#/local dumbass tries. Oh god does he try

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Visiting your hometown

What happens when you take your man to your home town? As your memories, people and places come together how will he react?

A small/long drabble to get me back into writing. Enjoy!

Victor Creed

This mutant never thought that he would walk in your hometown. He didn't expect to see cultures that morph together into one special town, your town. A place where you grew up. So keeping all that in mind he was cautious. Various not to offend someone or to say a rude word in your mother tongue. For the first time in his life, he is frazzled and nervous. he will keep in his front pocket a small leaflet some words he heard you say a few times that may be of some assistance. trying to woo you.

-that old hag showed me the middle finger. let's go.

Unfortunately, anything that he says wrong, will be your responsibility to amend it. so good luck.

Loki

you just know that Loki will have your mother tongue in his little finger (that sounds weird but let's carry on) but do not be fooled, he can not survive the morning wave of people in the farmers market. something that is pretty much normal for you. Loki doesn't know how to feel when he sees the local butcher wrapping the meat in todays' newspaper giving it to buyers or how people shove him to the side as his black suit with the green scarf is more than brought down in value. he will hear the near shouts of Famers that are trying to sell their livelihood to him as his head goes from one side to another in a split second. he will easily get reeled in by the old farmer who just smells the innocence on the Midgardian addressed god. you know the moment you grabs his hand he looks at you.

-how did you ever survive in this chaos?

-I thought you said that chaos is your middle name.

-it is however my kind of chaos is more dignified.

-survive just a little bit more, I need to go to that man in the corner.

-oh, no...

Thor

we all in the fandom know that thor is a ball of joy. but when he lands in your city, your territory he is stoic. he is here on a mission and no one should stand in his way. he will glue himself to your side and he will hold the dictionary book in his mighty right hand and your hand in his left. he will not stand for wasting a day on mundane stuff that you do with him back in the HQ so say goodbye to lazying around. when you go to the oceanic part of your country you are now almost ready to drown him in the ocean. or just leave him on the road, it is getting that heavy.

-thor, think it is time to stop.

-what do you mean?

-to be honest, I don't know anymore I am so tired.

-you are right... let us stop. for 2 minutes and then you can drive again.

-I will leave you here.

Bucky Barnes

bucky loves to travel. he loves to see you in the role of a guide you tell him about the park where you cut your leg open and when you got to the hospital as a nun stood above you praying for your recovery. bucky loves to feel the fresh air going into his nose thinking to himself how this was the same air that you breathe in. he loves to see all the different parts of the city where you went to. even so much that he went to your former hairstylist.

-bucky, you don't have to do this.

-nonsense, doll. I want to experience it. just like you did.

-that was eons ago. and I wore super short hair, like a hedgehog.

-hedgehog?

-yeah, it was so short that I only put on gel and made small spikes.

- I will give everything I have and say that you looked beautiful.

-alright, your call.

Steve Rogers

steve cannot wait for enough for him to arrive in the city where you walked, ran, and laughed. he cannot wait to enter your old apartment and see all of the hidden pieces that he wants to know. he loves to help you clean the apartment and see a big box of your old photos. he will look with your through on the hard wooden floor with one arm around your shoulders as you talk about each photo. even showing him the photo of your sister.

-when will I meet her?

-I don't know.

-didn't you say that she lived here, still?

-yeah...

-I want to meet her. I think am ready for it.

-okay...

Bruce Wayne

you just know that when you told him to pack his bags to go with you he did his research. he knows when, how the city was built. he will try to memorize the tongue twisters and say them horribly wrong just to make you laugh. when he looks at your old apartment he tries to envision the day you left it all behind to go to Gotham and it breaks his heart to imagine you in tears.

-bruce.

you take his calloused hand feeling his fingers tighten the grip.

-sorry, I immediately imagined you when you moved out. I got sad.

-why?

-because, you surely cried.

-I did, a little, but this city didn't have that something.

-and what is that?

-you dumbass. now stop sulking we need to clean.

Clark Kent

as Clark arrived at the farm where your aunt lived he couldn't help feel but prepared. he saw the cows eating grabs and was ready in a split second to milk it just to show off his soft and delicate side. Clark heard the stories of your aunt, well one of them, and from what he concluded, for now, this aunt was the beginner level, nice one, the one who won't tear him a new one if he doesn't treat you right. as the door opened you greeted your aunt in your mother tongue and introduced your man. Clark shakingly trying to reply in the mother tongue feeling the few letters that stood together could fall more apart than from his mouth. your aunt laughed hugging him and roughly patted him on his back. almost like a punch if you will. you look at your aunt and Clark cannot help but stand behind you as he whispered.

-what did she say?

-she said that you seem stiffer than a goat's turd.

-you said that this aunt was nice.

-she is. but that is the way we express ourselves.

-with curse words???!!

-what better way.

Arthur curry

Arthur was relaxed when he arrived, he was laid back when he slept in your apartment but that all suicide jumped off a cliff as he shook hands with your mother. Your mom wasn't that intimating but he heard the stories of her standing to your abusive father and running away with just some change in her pocket and a used car. he knows that the woman in front of him is strong can make or break your relationship. so he held the coffee cup in his hands as if was the key to everything he needed to know how to make your mother happy. he saw how your eyes sparkled when you talked to her how your smile ever left for a second you take what seemed to him in complete gibberish but cute gibberish. your mother turns to him asking in English.

-so Arthur, can I call you by your first name?

-yes, madam. of course, you can.

-thank you. well, then Arthur what do you do for a living?

with a small nod from you, he tells the honest truth.

-I am a superhero. but minus the stupid cape. I am here to keep you and your daughter, of course, safe from all danger. and I hope you will like me!!!!

you turn to your mother with a small chuckle as you tell her in your mother tongue.

-he is helpless.

-he seems like it, good luck, Y/n.

Orm Marius

nothing can save his pulse from rising as he walked with the crowd of people in the town square only your hand which he held more than tightly enough. you stopped pointing at a big statue of a colonel on a horse placed in the middle of the square.

-he is a big deal.

-yes, I can imagine the poor people that had to lift it up to place it here.

-yes, but thanks to those people, people now in the present can always remember what they went through at that time.

he didn't find any specialness in the statute for him it lacked in far more than that he can count but when he saw your face looking at the statue he knew that whatever that stirred in you he wanted to see it every day. he only squeezed your hand placing a kiss on your knuckles.

-does this mean you want in your likeness?

-sure, but only if you will make it.

-oh, darling, that is a recipe for chaos.

The Joker

j never put effort into himself. he did in destruction, in chaos, in mayhem, and even in covering his white skin with some basic foundation as he meets your off the edge aunt. when you told him that every second sentence from her is a curse he was more than ready to meet her. because sometimes crazy people click with the people who like to curse. everyone knows that. so when he sat in the house of your crazy aunt he firstly observed, he watched you talked together and exchanged laughs, even more, when you ever brought to tears as you laughed off the curses she threw at you so playfully making even j smile. so when she turned to him it was game time. and you were the translator.

-my aunt asked what is that you do for a job?

-tell her I am the man of your dreams.

-I told her that.

-damn, then tell her-WHAT?!

you giggle at his shock as you heard the playful quote she told you when you were little and j wanted to know what she said.

-what did she say?

-she said "if a girl gives a man a hand, she will give him her ass"

-your aunt is a wise woman.

- I knew you would like her.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan likes to take walks and taking a walk with you next to him as you showed him around your old neighborhood and told him stores of the always pissed on metal slide and the always filled cafes that were always the pinpoints for some scammers he found in question why you like it so much. as you showed his around you stopped at your old elementary school. you showed him the main entrance was where everyone hurled in the morning hours and where you sat with your friends and talked about the horribly proffers that still to this day haunt you. something he heard you mumble in your sleep.

-she was that awful?

-yes, and people like here never get old it's like the evilness she has in her keeps her eligible for work.

-am i not the same?

he couldn't ask a stupider question. and for that, you punched him in the shoulder.

-don't compare yourself to her. you aren't evil.

-you are forgetting my job, darling.

-you kill for money, she kills for fun and to keep herself alive. a difference now let's go home I need to remind you just how good and attentive you can be.

-lead the way, dove.

hope you liked it. Tell me what you think❤️

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[lady-literature]

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. 

And they all live happily ever after the end.

[abbynx]

La Squadra Esecuzione as Best Friends Headcanons

Formaggio - Very chill, first and foremost, he is down for anything to do. Videogames? He'll try to beat your ass. Cat cafes? Heck ye he is down - The type of friend who will coax you to cut class to hang out behind the school or climb over the school fence to hang around the local arcade or theatre. But if he get caught, he won't snitch and he's willing to take responsibility. Begrudgingly. - Ohhhh physical touch is bare minimum for him. He'll occasionally lean on you, perhaps shrink himself to fit himself in your pocket just to platonically cuddle and perhaps, use you as a transport. - Will high five you as a greeting, and will high five you as a farewell. Usually followed by a hug too uwu "Bro!" He holds his hand out for a high five, in which you instinctively grant him one, when he also entwines his fingers through yours and pulling you for a hug, patting your back for a second and pulling away. "I missed you bro!" - Prepare for dumb jokes, dumb puns that he effortlessly come up with as time goes by. You can't go on a day without him cracking a joke. You'd either roll your eyes at it or laugh along with him. There's nothing in between "You see that guy over there, bro?" He leans on you, arm draped around your shoulder as he points at a person from afar. "Yeah, what?" "I say... You'd be a perfect match." You glanced at him, hearing him shake a box of matches as he wiggled his eyebrows with a dumb grin. - *Finger guns and bro intensifies* Illuso - That weird person you don't see yourself associating yourself with somehow befriended him for some reason. Most likely started when you both started to wake up at 3 AM and meet in the middle of the dark, in the kitchen, wanting to grab something to eat. At first it is awkward, but soon you learned to bond through it! And soon enough, your midnight chats extended to become actual friendships! - Seems distant, but he cares. He's the type pretend not to care about you, but will glare (or more than glare depending at the severity) at people who hurt you. He is the 'I'm the only one allowed to insult them like that' type of friend. "Huh, Formaggio hasn't been teasing me. I wonder what happened." You wondered aloud, as you say beside your friend Illuso. "Must be because of his bruised jaw. The previous mission must've been tough for him." "Yeah... That..." - Probs touched-starved. He acts irritated and push you away when you try to hug him, but secretly loves it. If you stop trying to hug him, he'd be kinda sad but will not say anything. - This friendship includes you listening to him rant about every little thing, and brag about things he can't do. He appreciates you listening to be honest, and that's initially how your friendships started anyways. - Will use derogatory terms as a term of endearment. Please don't be offended, he doesn't mean any offense "Hey idiot! Get your sorry ass right here! Risotto said we have someone to take care of!" "Thanks, dumbass." "Eyo slut! Take a look at this fugly idiot!" - Does not have the habit of knocking. In fact, he just barges into your room, through the mirror. In more than one occasion has he seen you undressed but he couldn't care less about it. "Hey dumbass can I borrow your— hey, stop screaming! Anyways I ran out of hair ties, do me a solid—" - Everyone around you being confused to how you two are most unlikely to become friends, but you two are practically unlikely twins Prosciutto - You can not stop me from assuming he is quite the mom friend if you pry his shell hard enough. Perhaps a mom friend mixed with tsundere friend. "Hey! Drink your water or I'll break your ankles! No I don't care that we're in the middle of killing someone! I packed you some water and you didn't drink it! Well shit I didn't pack it specifically for you, I just managed to pack extra! Now go ahead and drink, I'll handle this one myself! While you're at it, coat yourself with sunscreen! If I hear you whining about being burnt, I swear to God—" - If you happen to be a mom friend too, you'd be bonding over the

mutual stress of having to look over the rest of the gang over a glass of wine as chaos around you ensues because you two decided to take a small break. "Formaggio and Ghiaccio is up at it again..." You sigh, swirling the content of your stemware as the distant bickering of the two aforementioned assassins echoed. "Just... Let's just lay low. It'll be over soon." Prosciutto sighs along as well, before downing his glass of whiskey. "Hopefully." And it didn't end, as it ensued and progressive got worse. Stands were called, knives were thrown, guns were shot. And two mom friends of La Squadra almost lost their voice from all the yelling and lecturing - Will scold you for your bad habits. Bad posture? He will walk behind you, press his knee on your back and roll your shoulders back whilst he lectures you about it. Messy time management? Will buy you crap to make you keep track of time. Sleeping so late? He will take whatever you're distracted with, demand you to turn your lights off as he lights soothing scented candles and tossing you some comfortable blankets to use. Barely taking care of yourself? Bro prepare yourself. "I don't understand how you live like this! You'd be dead if you were to continue that habit! At least help me help you to make you be better!" - Very blunt and honest to the point it stings, but he never lies to people he is closed to. He prefers being upfront with his loved ones and will try to rebuild their confidence and reassure them that they can be better than what they are. "When I say you're idiotic, you're but a burden, I mean it. You have all rights to be hurt by it, but don't just live with it. Prove me wrong, that you can be better than that and you'll be the best version of yourself. I know you can do it." - Will accept hugs, but will most likely not hug back. Maybe he'll just out one hand on your back and lightly stroke it, but that's it. But in rare occasions, he will return them too. Sometimes, he'll even initiate it. - Your connection to him as a friend has lead several advantages. No one in general can make a negative comment about you with Prosciutto around. His glare alone was scary and they would not wish to stick around and find out what he can do than just glaring. - Extremely appreciates when you help him around by simply carrying things for him, fetching him coffee and actually doing your damn job properly is enough to make him be filled with gratitude. Pesci - Baby. Okay, so this boy. Boy oh boy, he is baby. Take care of him, bro. Don't coddle him to the point of him being entirely dependent on you, but sis you can always reassure and make him improve himself! Perhaps a tamer version of his relationship with his brother. - You two will mostly likely be friends because you always defend him from the others from teasing him and rooting for him. He is very grateful for it and can't thank you enough. Either that, or Prosciutto paid you to babysit him. - Will constantly cling on your arm when he's anxious. It's up to you whether you'll snap at him and slap his hand away, or just let him hang around you. He'll just simply grab your wrist, and sooner and later he'd have his body pressed against yours, completely clinging on the entirety of your arm. "D-don't leave me, Y/N! I'm scared—!" - He is extremely thankful for you watching over him and protecting and by this, he tries to improve himself a lot more just so he can confidently say he can watch over you and protect you as well - Just the sweetest little thing, whenever he'd be away with Prosciutto for a mission he'd return home bearing gifts from travel and he'd give it to you. It would be something either miniature, or something practical like a knife sharpener or something. "I-I got this for you... I hope you like it! Big bro helped me pick!" - Honestly, I can imagine him just being the best, supportive and encouraging friend there could be. If ever you needed someone to confide in, he'd just sit and listen and will certainly not repeat what you told him to others. He'll try his best to comfort

you, taking inspiration to how you comfort him and will just try his best to make you feel better. "I know life is rough and hard and bad, but you always told me it will change and soon it all be over and better. It's good that you recognise you're in a bad place, now you need to take a break and then later you won't even know you've already forgotten your problem! It's okay to be sad, too, but not for too long." - The type of friend that will share anything he has. He has a cookie with him? Shit, he'll split it in half and give the other half to you. Some soda? Well I hope you don't mind drinking from the same can as he is, he will give it to you. Melone - So this nerd isn't a complete creepy pervert, not entirely at all. He's chill for most of the time, so he's a neat company if you don't mind him bombarding you with questions regarding your genetics, heritage records, blood type, zodiac signs and whatnot. But knows when to stop. - You most likely befriended him because he is one of the chill people in the group... Somewhat. Or perhaps you just started to bond over mutual love for steamy, erotic novels from the same author. If this man has shame, his guilty pleasures would be reading these types of trashy novels filled with smut. - He is great as a wingman. Complain to him about your lack of a love life, he'll observe your types and he'll somehow come up with a list by the next day enthusiastically listing them to you in a PowerPoint presentation. "If you're into girls, I have this one right here! She's compatible with your zodiac sign, although she has quite the temper she can be extremely passionate and affectionate— or perhaps you're into men, that I have as well. Several, actually. This other fellow right here is also a part of Passione from the Human trafficking branch, stoic and quite a stern one, but knows when to lay low at times and appreciate those around him— either him or the girl, you'd make good babies together!" "Melone, what the fuck—" - Very touchy. He'd lean his head on your lap as you both read on the couch, or randomly put his head on your shoulder during meetings, grab you by the arm while crossing the road, smacking your ass as a greeting (if you tell him stop, he'd stop of course), will pretend to kiss you just so he can see your reaction, anything. He is one affectionate nut that he sometimes forget about personal spaces. If you're not particularly fond of being touched like I am, simply tell him nope. I mean, he'd be sad but will respect your boundaries. The only time he'll actually respect established boundaries, to be honest. - Knows the most random facts and will share them to you for the fun of it. Additional to that, he will also mutter his shower thoughts and random cursed facts out loud just so he can curse you with the knowledge and confusion. "Did you know that dolphins masturbate using dead fishes? Also, there was an experiment involving dolphins in which one of the scientist fell in love and had sex with it. Another fact, is that dolphins are also seen doing the deed—" "Okay, Melone, I get it! Dolphins aren't as innocent as they seem! Stop ruining it for me already!" ... "Did you know that a woman once used mayonnaise as a lubri—" "MELONE!" - Being his friends meaning being his impulse control. If he intends to use his Stand on some innocent passerby just for the heck of it (for science, as he claims), smack him by the wrist and glare at him. If he eyes a particular someone for too long that the person gets too uncomfortable, try to divert his attention away. "Ow! Y/N what the heck—!" "What did I told you about oogling at people? It's impolite and creepy, stop that!" - He may not seem like it, but bro he cares a lot. If ever you had a problem, he'd sit and listen, offer you his shoulder to cry on, and perhaps hang out to divert your attention away from what's bothering and hurting you. And if you need advice, he'll try his best to come up with a flawless solution to your problems. But if comfort is what you need, his arms are open baby. Ghiaccio

- Bro you must need emergency ear plugs for this one, he is a massive screamer, a ticking time bomb with no timer that will erupt at random. If ear plugs aren't enough, cover your ears. - Befriending him was an impulse control befriending him. Well, all you did was to constantly try to calm his tits and cool his head to the point he actually barges in your room to hang out so that he can cool his head from all of the shenanigans occuring all around him, or maybe he just had another thought about something maddening about the world. "WELL WHY?! WHY IS WOMEN'S CLOTHES SIZING CHART DIFFER FROM EACH STORE?! THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE! INCHES AND CENTIMETRES EXISTS FOR A REASON, DAMNIT!" - There are moments where he isn't screaming, thankfully and he's a decent person to talk to. If you're a listener, he'll do the talking, just ranting about things, rambling on and on, before complaining, and then another outbursts comes out. By this, you simply sigh, put a hand on his shoulder and talk to him in a gentle, calming voice. It usually does the trick. Formaggio and Melone joked about this talent of yours as witchcraft. - He appreciates you a lot and honestly doesn't know what to do without you and by that, he knows he has to reciprocate the care you give him somehow to show he is grateful of your friendship and care. He isn't the type to be physically affectionate, but he is extremely thoughtful about his closed loved onesa and prefers to be practical about it. He would save you your seat in meetings, fetch you snacks if he ran out for an errand, etc etc. Extremely observant of your mannerisms, that he might point that out to you and you won't even realise you do that. - So like, he is very protective as a friend. He will do something whenever someone has wronged you in any way. The others teasing you? Bam, he'll shoot them back with a witty insult. Your s/o cheated on you? Ohohoho boi, be prepared to see their name on a headline on the daily news. Your order was wrong? Bam, he'll have the waiter shaking in fear from a screaming, angry Italian mafioso as he demands for them to remake your order correctly. "WELL CAGACAZZO?! QUIT STANDING AROUND AND GET ORDERS CORRECTLY—" "G-Ghiaccio it's just a minor thing, let it go—" "THEY SERVED YOU AN INGREDIENT YOU SPECIFICALLY TOLD THEM NOT TO INCLUDE BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO IT! WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS SLIDE OFF?!" - All in all, he's just glad you're there for him because damn, someday his temper is going to get the best of him and he doesn't know what to do. And with your friendship, he's learned how to cope with his spontaneous anger by carrying soothing stuff to ease his nerves (courtesy of your suggestions and gifts for him) - Basically the dynamic of a rapid gremlin with rabies and a calm, sunshine personified angel. Everyone (Riz, including, but he's more subtle and dry about it) joked about the unlikely friendship, and how your ears must've lost a little bit of hearing capacity. Rissoto - I feel like he'd be extremely attached to a childhood friend. You've been friends since before you underwent the drastic change by going through a lot to get to where he is now, and still the only person that stuck around with him was you. By that, you became the most trusted by him due to the fact you've known each other for very long. - As his best friend, you're his confidant and finds himself often going to you if ever he needed advice, or needed to vent about his stress. He really isn't vocal but when he's confiding in you, his words spill out of his mouth usually sealed tightly just steadily flows, his big strong Capo veneer falls apart in front of you but he doesn't necessarily feel unsafe by being vulnerable. That's how he trusts you. - No one will dare to bad mouth you in front of the Capo, or else there'd be hell to pay for. I mean, teasing is fine, he knows you can handle burns from team mates here and there (and will silently smirk at it) but he will not stand it if they attempt to belittle you for something unreasonable. "Watch your mouth. That was

out of their control, stop blaming them for something they can't do." - The type of friend that doesn't know how to comfort someone, but will try their best. So as you spill your heart out, tears, snot, sweat and all, he'll just pull you to his chest and awkwardly pat your shoulders to get you calm and comforted. Not to mention, he is extremely stiff at the hug and is very unsure what words to say to you to not upset or offend you any further, so he'll just ride it out smoothly, and let you let it all out on his chest. It's not like he can't wash your tears, snot and sweat on his chest anyways. - Since he is very non-vocal, he's a good listener so rant all the way! Complain about the weather, about your lack of love life, about how underpaid the hitmen team is, anything! He won't find the perfect response, so he'll just nod along and perhaps comment occasionally on what your saying. "So like, ugh, I am soooo frustrated at how Prosciutto could say that to Pesci! He makes a good point, but it's redundant for him to be too harsh on him! Look, all I'm saying is, maybe Prosciutto should start choosing his words correctly so that Pesci won't feel too upset! You know???" You glanced at your friend, as he simply sat attentively beside you. He nods silently as a response. "Anyways—" - Extremely great at deduction and the way he reads people so easily is so unreal. And so he uses this to his advantage to know what's up with you whenever you seemed off. By this, he's able to tell whenever you're upset but scared to talk about it, frustrated but too busy to talk about, etc etc. And with this, he takes the time to drag you to take a seat, and talk about what's been bothering you. If you don't wish to talk about it at all, he'll let you be after with a reassurance that you can overcome whatever the heck you're going through. - Everyone is surprised that you two aren't married??? That you're just friends??? The way you two look just makes you two look like a couple and it boggles the others how you two aren't one.

[greensaplinggrace]

What Is There To Celebrate About the Darkling? (Part 4)

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He’s calculating but impulsive. Gentle yet firm. Stubborn and adaptive. Just a real mess of contradictions that makes him all the more interesting.

He loves nature. He loves the forest.

Fond of luxuries and nice things. After growing up as he did, I think he deserves them.

Very socially awkward. Introvert just trying his best. Anything that isn’t manipulation and therefore something he’s planned in his head is just a social train wreck waiting to happen.

The way he pushes up Alina’s sleeve when they first meet. This man had zero compunctions about acting completely unprofessionally in front of his soldiers and I think that’s very sexy of him.

He’s constantly tired and exasperated with the people around him.

The way he says “quiet” with the softest voice imaginable and a room full of laughter instantly goes silent.

He had no interest in Elizaveta even though she was utterly obsessed with him and I think that’s hilarious.

Elizaveta: I have a plan to resurrect the Darkling Everybody Else: Oh the Darkling is so evil for trying to come back! The Darkling, who just wants a nap and is sick of this mortal bullshit: Why am I even here? This is such a pain in the ass. I should have killed Elizaveta when I had the chance.

How he asks if Alina “will have” his name like a man proposing.

Has his bedroom attached to the war room.

Constantly checking up on Alina just to know how she’s doing. Never pushing her beyond her limits as she’s training.

Very creative with his shadows and the extent of their abilities. So many of the ways he uses his powers are genius.

His ending in RoW is a tragedy and an injustice. He deserves better.

This old man pouting at Alina in episode seven as he says “please, I just want to talk to you 🥺”

There is a black kefta made for Alina after like two days in the Little Palace. He really was already planning their entire immortal futures together as Mr. and Mrs. Starkov wasn’t he?

His bed is covered in maps and notes when he’s plotting how to find Alina. Also before that, the way he’s poring over the notes at his desk and giving orders is 👌🥵

Him acting like a real General at all is simply amazing.

The fact that he trusts Luda with his life. That they have a whole intimidation routine set up around him purposefully getting himself fatally injured knowing she’ll heal him.

He looks like a vampire in the show and a fae in the books.

His favorite ABBA song is probably “Lay All Your Love On Me.”

Looks composed but that’s only a façade. Is actually an unhinged feral terror of pain and misery.

That scene where he tells the king she will remain in the Little Palace to train undisturbed and he puts his foot down. ON THE RED CARPET. the king’s carpet. and uses a commanding voice that’s just on the edge of an order…I’m surprised he didn’t get flogged for that. IMO nothing conveys the fine line he walks with those in power while wielding his own like this scene. Literally he should just be celebrated for this alone.

“‘Why won’t you leave me alone?’ I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk. Long minutes passed. I didn’t think he would answer. I even had time to hope he might have gone, until I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Then I’d be alone, too,” he said, and he stayed the whole night through, till the lamps burned down to nothing.

Trapped a bunch of Saints in the Shadow Fold like a true amoral disaster villain. What an icon.

His barely concealed amusement and half hidden smile when Alina comes to put his kefta on. The way he finds Alina utterly hilarious and tries so hard to act like he doesn’t.

That small amused smile when Alina jokes about finding Volcra hilarious. Please he’s so adorable 😭

“‘I know what you feel when you’re with the tracker,’ he said. ‘I doubt that’ He gave a dismissive wave.” - My Malarklina obsessed self, vibrating at the edge of my seat: but what does it mean?!?

Mal and the Darkling’s entire fight in the Fold: dumbass on dumbass violence.

The way he stands with his back turned to Alina when she enters his tent the first time they meet and then does the slowest Godfather turn in history. 1999/10 - points removed for a criminal lack of cat petting.

“I may lead the second army, but the king is still the king.” - the delivery of that line. the implications, the history behind it and also the foreshadowing for his plans.

That slow turn face reveal in episode one though. Like okay we get it you’re pretty alkjsdflkj

Confused Old Man Face™ whenever Mal or Alina do anything remotely defiant in his presence.

How he tells Alina to come closer and she only takes the tiniest step and he doesn’t even react.

His little head cock whenever someone says or does something that just doesn’t vibe with him.

Darklina tumblr has now convinced me that the Darkling is a cat in human form.

“You’re an amplifier,” she said. He glanced at where Sylvi was pouncing on another helpless tree, oblivious, and gave a single, frightened nod. How could he have been so stupid? He would have to tell his mother now, and she would insist that they leave right away. If word got out, they’d both be in danger. Amplifiers were rare, hard to find, harder to hunt. Their lives would be forfeit. Even if they got away, word would spread. He could already hear his mother’s voice: Foolish, careless, callous. If you don’t value your own life, show some concern for mine. Annika touched his sleeve. “It’s okay,” she said. “I won’t tell.” Panic crowded in. He shook his head. She slid her hand into his. It was hard not to pull away. He should. He was breaking his mother’s fundamental rule for keeping them both alive. Never let them touch you, she’d warned him. - 😥 I just want to give him a hug all the time.

His strangled shout when Mal tackles him off of the skiff.

His smile when he’s summoning the sun. The expression on his face when he does so. Like I know I’ve mentioned this before but damn. If you ever needed a reason to celebrate him, this would be it.

“Shame, I’ll have to give that speech again now.”

The way he flips Mal over his shoulder in the Fold after Mal attempts to strangle him.

His little lecture on the Small Science to Alina when they’re going to meet the King. Info dump.

“You make it sound so easy.” “A bird makes flight look easy. But it was born to do so.”

When Alina looks at him for guidance on whether or not to remove her veil and he gives her a small nod.

The handhold in the throne room after Alina’s demonstration is absolutely precious, but it’s in a room full of people he should be keeping up a façade for and it’s so unwarranted and yet he does it anyway, I’m-

The way he says “welcome home, Ms. Starkov,” in the most tender voice I’ve ever heard and then goes “ok that’s enough emotions for one day” and then just straight up leaves without even a goodbye.

He has his symbol?? Sewn into Alina’s kefta??? bRo???!?!

Disaster Simp never gets tired of introducing Alina to other people or talking about how she’s the best thing that ever walked this earth.

The Darkling lying: honestly

“I have devoted my life to undoing the great sin of my forebearer, but I am never seen as the solution. Only as a reminder of the problem.” Sasha you were literally the problem. What a manipulative little shit. We love to see it.

The way he closes his eyes and kisses the coin before he makes a wish at the wishing well.

“I think the Grand Palace is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.” - I love him your honor.

This man has the most intense lines for Alina. Like straight up I would have booked it when he said “you and I are going to change the world”. But then the head grab?! “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.” He’s so intense like sir can you tone it down a bit please I am begging you.

“I shall be right by your side.” / “We can do anything. Together.” / “For us.” / “You cannot do this on your own. And neither can I” / “I want you to know my name. The name I was given, not the title I took for myself. Will you have it, Alina?” - WEDDING VOWS

That scene in the war room when Alina comes to find him and he instantly drops his guard and lowers his arms and welcomes her with a soft voice.

“Am I bothering you?” “Not at all.” - girl you could be stabbing him in the chest and you still wouldn’t be bothering him.

This whipped disaster sounds like the proudest man on the planet when he talks about how much more his enemies fear Alina over him.

His shadows react to his emotions.

“YoUr’E nOt IvAn.” asjlkdfjs god he’s so embarrassing.

Local Dark Lord Sasha offering Alina the throne after she literally tries to kill him.

He gets so jealous of Mal.

Has a great relationship with his soldiers and his men. His men trust him implicitly and believe him to be an amazing general.

When he turns around after Alina puts the kefta on him and looks flustered/has to take a breath because she’s a lot closer than he expected. The way he’s breathless and literally can’t string a sentence together because he’s so distracted by her closeness.

His jokes are absolutely terrible.

GF: *jokes about throwing herself down the stairs to get out of an event* Sasha “no thoughts head empty only Alina” Morozova: haha I’d just have my healers heal you right back up again.

How genuinely touched he is by Alina admitting to wanting to help Grisha and Ravkans.

That scene in Demon in the Woods when he notices the intricate details of the politics in the Grisha camp after one meeting with the Elders. He has the Ulle pegged almost instantly.

Born to be a leader. Born to take care of others. Born to protect. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s protecting people. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s leading them and caring for them.

The way he cups his hands around Alina’s face when they’re kissing.

This man gets so starstruck by Alina walking into the Fete that he doesn’t even excuse himself from the King’s side to go to her.

Long haired Aleksander rights!

Ok I know the wig was kind of ugly but he looks pretty with long hair and I think it would look very good on him naturally.

The way he slams his hands together in the Winter Fete scene and instantly turns the room pitch black.

Literally any times he summons shadows is a blessing and we should all celebrate him for it. They are so beautiful. On god if I ever saw his shadows in real life I would be awestruck.

He asks Mal if he’s okay when they first meet.

The pure, barely contained fury directed at the Conductor for daring to harm Alina and kidnap his Grisha.

He always has to make a grand entrance.

This man is like a bloodhound when it comes to Nina. He is very invested in finding her and I feel like that’s never really talked about.

“I know exactly how she felt. The King’s soldiers treated me the same way. Because they knew- they knew that I was more important than any of them.” - the way he says it, like it’s something he has to remind himself of in his head constantly. a justification for the way he’s been treated, the fear he evokes in others. a way to protect himself from the hurt of being ostracized and reviled. arrogance and conceit as a defense against emotional harm.

Also the way his face instantly changes after that, like he’s said too much. vulnerability. lowering his eyes. shifting his eyes. literally just everything about this scene makes me love him all the more.

Dark carriage rides up to the Crows’ hiding place. Grisha circle the area as Aleksander steps from the carriage slowly, dressed all in black, floofy cloak high on his shoulders. Villain Entrance™

Him slowly pulling a knife out of his chest like it shouldn’t have killed him is hot as fuck and also totally badass. Big dick energy.

“I’ve had enough of your lies.” “And what lies are those?” - Alina, pulling out a fifty mile long scroll of grievances: Well, for starters-

This man is literally just an Alina Starkov compliments machine.

He cares so much about the Grisha and their protection. He loves Ravka and his people so much.

He had an entire cult dedicated to him.

“They would approach him. They always did. But he felt more anxious than usual. He’d stopped trying to make friends in the places he and his mother visited—there was no point when they moved on so quickly. Now he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.”

Save a Villain. Murder the King.

Openly admits to staging a coup like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He speaks so slowly. He moves so slowly. Everything he does has to have Purpose and Gravitas.

Theater Nerd™

He knew Nikolai for years and yet couldn’t recognize him as Sturmhond. We do stan an oblivious icon 💕

The Darkling after he gets his ass whooped in Siege and Storm: Mom can you please come pick me up? I’m scared!

He’s here to manipulate sun summoners and murder cities. And unfortunately he’s all out of sun summoners.

Would absolutely get drunk on real alcohol. This man thinks kvas is strong liquor.

Has his wrists exposed exactly one time in the most skin he’s shown all season and it’s when Alina visits him at night in the war room. WHORE!

Was too emotionally slutty and fell for Alina. RIP.

He’s passionate and cold and beautiful and hurt and twisted up in ways nobody could ever hope to understand and he’s stunning.

I would literally kill for this man 🖤✨

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

POV: You Got Wayyy Too High

Warnings: Drug use (weed lol)

Aizawa Shouta/ Eraserhead

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Aizawa as he plopped his bag at the door. You were trying to smoke weed from a pipe, but instead of lighting the actual herb, you were trying to heat it up from the bottom of the pipe.

You’d never smoked weed, but wanted to try it and bought the supplies from a local smoke shop, as well as buying some good stuff from your friend.

Unfortunetly, you also didn’t bother to look up how to actually use a pipe, instead just relying on knowledge you gained from drug documentaries.

This meant that you only knew how people heated up heroin with a flame under the spoon, which meant that surely you could do the same with weed.

“No, no, no, no. Stop that,” he ordered. You were his age, but nonetheless still buckled under his stern tone.

“Look, do you need me to show you how to do it?” he asked, gently taking the glass pipe from your hand. You nodded.

“Watch carefully,” he ordered, as he properly lit up the herb as he inhaled the smoke. He then passed it to you, watching you carefully to make sure you were doing it right. Soon, you got the hang of it.

Even sooner, though, you were a coughing mess.

“Calm it down, there. Don’t take huge puffs. You’re not impressing anyone here, y/n,” he scolded, taking another puff. He did it effortlessly, as if he’d done it for years. (He has.)

You wanted to impress him, though, even though he seemed to not care what you did. You just wanted to prove to him that you were ~cool~.

Well, this ended up in you looking very... uncool.

While Aizawa was chilling with a pretty decent high, you were laid across the bed, starfish style, blasting music in your ears. You were honestly vibing though, so Aizawa didn’t mess with you. For now.

The next day, he definitely teased you a little bit about how totally out of it you were, and how you listened to the same song on loop for 3 hours.

“How did you know that?” You asked, cocking a brow.

“Uh, because your headphones weren’t plugged in?”

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might

He was smoking when you came home, and though he tried to hide it, you smelled it. He acted as if he was just caught as a 17 year old in his mom’s house.

“Uh, no, it’s nothing! I...I don’t do anything like that!” He insisted.

“Toshi, come on. I can smell it,” you smiled. He covered his face.

“Please, please, keep this between you and I...I only do it because it helps with the pain and-”

You cut him off, “ I dont care why you do it, just lemme have some already!” 

Of course, you were just teasing him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “...You smoke?”

You shook your head playfully.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to try some, though!” 

He passed it to you, and you took a way-too-long drag. Instantly, you were doubled over, coughing and hacking your lungs out. 

He patted your back firmly.

“Since this is your first time, you’re gonna cough a little. Just try to take smaller puffs and take deep breaths. There you go.”

Once you recovered, and Yagi got his turn, he handed the joint back to you. It continued to be passed back and forth between you two until it was finally no longer than a centimeter. 

For a moment, you both just chilled out on the couch together, just vibing. That was until Toshinori noticed your goofy, dreamy facial expression. He chuckled to himself, but that was all you needed to become hysterical, laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Seeing you laugh so much of course made Toshi a mess as well, which only added to your decent into utter madness.

Eventually, though, you both calmed down, and Toshi excused himself so that he could go take a quick bath. He often did this whenever he smoked, so that the warm water could aid even more in soothing his aching muscles and creaky bones.

So you were left alone. Totally unattended. At first, everything was totally fine.

However, as you started to actually feel the effects of the herb, you began to panic.

Is this normal? Does everyone else feel like this when they smoke? Oh God, this isn’t right...oh fuck, I’m gonna be the first dumbass to OD on THC...fuck...

Thoughts whizzed past your brain, every single one making sure you knew how totally fucked you were.

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you counted your pulse with two fingers on your wrist, but you coulnd’t find a pulse.

oh fuck...i’m probably going to pass out any minute now...it’s all over...

Images of your final goodbyes to everyone you loved flashed just behind your eyes.

“How’re you holding up, pumpkin?” asked Toshi, coming back from the bath, in a robe and his golden hair still damp.

You looked at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Toshi...I’m...I’m dying...I love you, okay?” you murmured. He would have laughed, all except he saw the genuine fear in your eyes. 

He sat down next to you, surrounding you with all of his lanky limbs. 

“You’re not dying, honey. What you’re feeling right now is totally normal, I promise. Take some nice, deep breaths for me. Come on. There you go. Good.”

He cradled you there for a good while, until he felt your tense muscles finally slacken, and your breathing evened out.

Toshi made a mental note to never let you smoke that much ever again, guilt pinching at his sides.

Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu

You had taken an edible cookie from your friend. She told you it was just a small bit in there, just enough for you to feel something.

You decided to be modest, eating just half of the cookie. You didn’t notice any effects, and out of sheer boredom you decided to go ahead and eat the rest of it. No harm in that, right?

Well, an hour later, it kicked in. You were expecting to feel something interesting, but you definately weren’t expecting anything like this at all. 

Everything seemed so far away. Even your breathing sounded like it was coming down a long corridor and echoing to your ears. You could feel your soul swimming in your body. 

Fatgum, who you lived with, luckily finished his hero duties early, and walked into the house joyfully as usual.  He called out your name. You didn’t reply.

His large footsteps could be heard, but you were too busy thinking about how weird breathing sounds to notice. 

Fatgum soon found you collapsed on the bathroom floor, face pressed against the cool tile.

Immediately, he propped you up against the wall, looking into your eyes with great concern.

“What did you take? Y/n, look at me. What did you take?” 

You lazily looked at him, your face completely serious. As serious as it could be, anyway.

“...i...it was...edible...” you mumbled out. As soon as he understood, he was laughing hysterically.

“s..stop...s not funny...” you grumbled, punching him in the gut. 

“Alright, alright... let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel much better once you wake up,” he smiled, picking you up and bringing you into the bedroom. 

You quickly were comforted by the warm, heavy comforter. Fatgum took a moment to look at you in your groggy state, trying his best to hold back a laugh. It was so painfully obvious that you’d never done anything like this in your life. His only regret was not being around to witness your ascent into cloud 9.

Soon, though, you had drifted into dreamland.

Hizashi Yamada

You locked yourself in your bathroom, sneakily lighting up the joint you bought off of your friend. Your boyfriend was in his room, playing Fortnite or some shit, and frankly, you were embarrassed to smoke in front of him. You knew that he’d definately find something to roast you about, and he was relentless.

A couple minutes after you lit up, though, the door was basically busted down.

“HEY, HEY! You better be planning on sharing some of that!” yelled Hizashi, his hand already out and waiting. He still had his headset on, but you saw with relief that his mic was turned off. You passed it to him.

“Augh! Where the hell didja get this weak shit, y/n? Nah, this ain’t gonna cut it,” he complained, putting it out. 

“Hey! I got that from my friend, dude! What the hell?” you frowned. Before you could be too mad at the waste, though, Hizashi pulled out a small wooden box from under his bed. Opening it, he revealed his stash of entirely too much pot.

You covered your mouth, stifiling a laugh. How the fuck could you have not smelled it? 

Within five minutes, he’d rolled up a blunt, and was passing it to you, already lit. 

It was gone after a little over half an hour, and you could already feel the effects. Your eyes were dry, your stomach craving junk food, and your brain craving chill vibes.

He returned to his game, unbothered but his volume definately toned down about 5 notches. He was a lot more chill than you’d ever seen him act, ever.

You found your way into the kitchen.

Once his game was over, he met you in there. You were in front of the fridge, pulling out thing after thing. By the time he’d gotten to you, you had eaten half a jar of pickles, three pieces of cake (with your bare hands), drank a bunch of soda, and you were headed for the chips that were sitting idly on the top of the fridge.

“oh, God...what the fuck are ya up to, dude?” he groaned. He did not want to deal with this mess.

You grinned at him.  “I dunno, maan... look dude could you just get me these up here? please bro...” you giggled. He sighed dramatically, taking them.

However, instead of handing them over to you, with your dirty little fingers, he ate them.

“stoppp, bro, please lemme get some!” you pouted. He acted as if he couldn’t hear you, leaving the kitchen. You followed after him, kicking him in the shins. 

Still, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hizashi, come on, maaannnn!” 

He laid himself on the bed, covering himself with blankets. He pulled out his phone, calling you.  “Y/n, I miss you so much, man. Come chill out!” he spoke into the phone, trying his best not to break the act. You were absolutely furious at this point, punching at him.

“I’m right here, you doughnut!!” you groaned.  Dramatically sighing, Hizashi frowned, “I really wish y/n was here to sesh with me...” all while still eating the chips. You jumped on top of him. 

Finally, you caught him off gaurd, grabbed the chips, and locked yourself back up in the bathroom. 

This time, though, he just left you be. 

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Weird Little Shit

For: @darks-ink

A class discussion held by Wes about Danny’s weirdness was never not going to be an absolute cluster fuck

Wes smacks the board, “alright, fuckers, thank you for coming-”.

“We’re only here because we lost a bet”.

“Shut up, Dash. You shouldn’t have to be strong-armed into learning the truth”. Everyone rolls their eyes at Wes pretty actively. “Anyway, since you all refuse to see or even listen to the truth of what Danny Fenton is. Instead, this. Weird shit about Danny Fenton one oh one”.

Dash snorts, “now this I can get behind, little shit weighs, like, ten pounds or some shit”. Wes points at him aggressively, “exactly”. Scribbling down ‘weighs less than a sack of potatoes' on the board. Star throwing in her two cents, “yeah and I’ve seen Sam just pick him up under her arm and run off”.

Brittney smacks her desk, “half the time he makes food directly in home ec it’s fucking cold, which ew, but also really weird”.

“Oh yeah he does that with his drinks too. He whole ass ‘drank’ a solid chunk of ice, major power move honestly”.

“And remember that snowball fight? I don’t think he ever actually made any snowballs, he just kept acquiring them”.

“Kid made for a great air conditioner when all the windows got stuck shut though; guy runs cold as fuck”.

Wes is just aggressively scribbling more down with a mildly manic grin.

“We should totally invite him to parties so he can keep the fucking beer cold”.

Dash laughs loudly and smacks Dale on the arm, “now there’s an idea!”, deadpanning, “still not inviting freaky Fenton though”. Dale chuckles very awkwardly.

“Well he’s an ice sculptor so that’s not surprising”.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘ice sculptor’? He clearly lifts weights in his spare time”.

“Oh yeah, he lowkey picked up the back end of my car once”.

“James, your car is a tiny little piece of shit. I could lift that damn thing”.

“Hey”.

“Anyway. Like I was saying, people who handle cold shit all the time, you know, like ice sculptors, usually have cold hands”.

“He lifts weights! Not ice sculpts!”.

“Here I though he was a painter”.

“Why the fuck would he be doing that?”.

“Well he’s always randomly splattered in green paint”.

Basically everyone pauses to look at Hanna. Kwan blinking, “the green is ectoplasm, duh”. Emilie shrugging and nodding, “everyone knows that”.

“Well I thought it was paint”.

“Well you’re clearly stupid”.

“Shut up”.

Dash waves everyone off, “so clearly not a painter or weight lifter, because have you seen his goddamn noodle arms?”.

“He lifts weights!”.

“No he doesn’t!”.

“Who cares! Have you seen his dad? Of course he’s a strong little shit! What really gets me is him getting out of locked rooms”.

“Oh he whole ass climbs out windows and shit”.

“All that ecto that gets on his skin makes his hands all sticky, hence why he can climb the side of buildings”.

“When the heck did you see him doing that?”.

“Oh I totally saw him showing off knife swallowing to some elementary kids”.

“I think he hangs out and does drugs or some shit on the roof”.

“So he climbs up the school building to do drugs? Why wouldn’t he just use the hidden steps like a normal person?”,

“I’m pretty sure the kitchen staff actually include him in their budget for missing utensils cause he eats so many of them”.

“Julie, no one’s saying Danny’s close to normal. Also kids got an iron stomach damn”.

Dash has to jump in there, “I totally made him eat my underwear once”. Earning him a round of judging glances. “What? I didn’t expect him to actually do it. I was planning to mock him for pussying out. But then the little fucker went and did it”.

“Power move”.

“Shut up”.

“You fed your underwear to a guy who builds guns?”.

“Excuse me but what?”.

“Maybe him doing so much dangerous shit is why his heartbeats all slow and stuff”.

“Again, excuse?”.

“Well we totally tested everyone’s heart rates and breathing and shit and he’s super low. He blamed his corn supper”.

“That’s stupid”.

“His corn supper had teeth, Todd”.

“Back to the gun making because what?”.

“FentonWorks is a weapon company what do you expect?”.

“James, he made a shotgun out of a pencil, two toothpicks, an elastic band, and a snapped in half penny. The thing was magically welded together”.

“You can’t weld a fucking pencil. It’s wood, moron”.

“Well it was goddamn wielded”.

Wes grumbles, “yeah he welded my binder zipper together once, stupid pyrokinesis”. Star glares at him, “I thought this wasn’t about your crazy conspiracy crap?”. Wes glares at her like she’s stupid.

“Ignoring Wes being crazy again. You guys do know he has laser beam lipstick right? He could totally weld stuff with that”.

“Didn’t he have a tail that one day?”.

“Huh?”.

“That lipstick of his is the plasma peach one right? Because girl I so need some, it makes amazing blush”.

“Oh no a dog just crawled under his shirt. I think he was trying to hide the treats or some shit?”.

“Fucking where? in his shoulder blades?!?”.

“Oh my god that’s right, he can totally pop all his joints out so probably yeah”.

“Since when could he do that? Better yet, why? Fucking ow”.

“His fingers also glow green when he cracks them”.

“Right Right I remember that! We also got him under a black light, totally wild”.

“I wish I could pop out my joints randomly”.

“He probably just eats glow sticks and they leaked into his joints and shit”.

“THAT MAKES NO SENSE”.

“Who cares, take him to a rave”.

“Oh my god yes he does amazing makeup”.

“Wait Fenton does makeup now too?”.

Wes points at Dash, “he’s got to cover up the dead parlour to his skin somehow”. With half the class shouting, “HE’S NOT DEAD”.

Emilie pursing her lips, “but what if he was, that would be hot”.

“EXCUSE ME!?!”.

“Oh get off your vanilla basic bitch high horse, Karen”.

Wes rubs his forehead, “not this shit again”. Smacking the board, “weird shit about Fenton, people! Not y’alls weird necrophilia fetish!”.

“Hey that’s just Emilie”.

Jesse looks genuinely offended, “bitch what? Have you seen a ghost? That glow? Mmmmmh yeah, daddy”.

Star chokes, “oh my god. I love our town”.

Wes sighs, “I should just start blocking you people from seeing ghosts at all. Cover those eyes until you stop BEING FUCKING BLIND”.

“Eyes never stop seeing, they just get covered”.

“NO! NO! BAD!“.

“That weirdly reminds me that Danny can totally walk with his eyes closed”.

“That’s weird how?”.

“How ‘bout you fucking try it then!”.

Dash shrugs, “well his eyes go glowy green all the time so no surprise he can just see through his eyelids”. More than a few people look to him, “why did you not add that to the weird list?”.

“Because it’s not weird”.

“Dash... do you know anyone with goddamn glowing eyes... besides ghosts”.

“Uhhh the entire Defect Quartet”.

“Excuse?!?”.

“Honestly him biting open pop-cans is weirder”.

“Oh god yeah, that’s horrible to hear”.

“He dead ass cut his lip up once doing that and just... kept doing it. There was blood all over his neck”.

“Why the heck didn’t anyone take an edgy aesthetic photo of that? Goddamn”.

“I feel like this is more an off-the-books class on discovering that Danny might actually be hot”.

“You wanna say Fenton’s hot again? I’ll goddamn choke you, motherfucker”.

“Do it you fake ass bear dom”.

A couple of people shuffle out of their desks and away when Dash actually throws a punch at Jasper.

“On a side note, once saw Danny sleeping in a trash can”.

“How is that weird”.

“How isn’t it? It’s a trashcan”.

“And he’s trash, your point”.

“YOU'RE GONNA HAVETA HIT HARDER IF YOU WANT TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION ON YOUR TWINK BOY! HE’S DURABLE AS FUCK!”.

“FUCK YOU!!!”.

“Huh, he did survive falling from the ceiling multiple times and that drowning once”.

“Fucker wasn’t drowned, he can breathe underwater”.

“Excuse me?”.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!”.

Dash snapping his head around, “IM TEACHING HIM A LESSON!”. Jasper just smirks, “I DON’T NEED BREATH PLAY TIPS FROM YOU!”. Dash tries punching him again.

“This is ridiculous, I mean really, Danny would be the dom”. That silenced the entire room.

“What?”.

“Come on, he ate Skulker once ‘cause the guy was coping him an attitude”.

“DANNY EATS GHOSTS?!?”.

Wes turns around and slams his head on the board, “God fuck this is such a cluster fuck”.

“You’re hosting this and holding us hostage here”.

“YOU’RE NOT MY HOSTAGES! YALL LOST A BET!”.

“Oh suck my toes”.

“WHAT?!”.

“While Wes loses his mind for the fifth time this week, what we’ve got is he’s icy as shit, likes welding and makeup and ice sculptures and weight lifting, weighs fuck all, just vores goddamn everything, and climbs shit weirdly well?”.

“You’re forgetting all the glow shit”.

“HA! Glowing shit”.

“Fuck Todd, you are a dumbass”.

“IN SHORT LOCAL ELDRITCH TEEN BUT HE’S STILL NOT A GODDAMN GHOST WES!”

“FUCK YOU! IT’S SO GODDAMN OBVIOUS HOW ARE YOU PEOPLE LIKE THIS OHMYGOD!”.

Just then Danny Fenton opens up the door, the class going dead silent while he glances around slowly. Him looking to the whiteboard, then slowly back to his fellow teens, speaking “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no”, while slowly backing out and closing the door.

At first, no one says anything before Star snickers, “pffft”; the entire classroom bursting out into laughter directly afterwards.

Wes turning around and smacking his head on the board once again, “why. Just. Why me”.

END.

Prompt: Wacky reveals (ex: Danny drying up too quickly bc intangibility, Danny's drink stays cool way too long, people's electronic devices are always more charged when they've been near Danny, etc)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby

Day 14: There Is Only One Way To Load A Dishwasher

Warnings: Bad Language Words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N- Oh we are getting closer. And this particular scenario happened between my father and me one night. Luckily no one cut themselves, but we were in a severe disagreement as to how sharp knives were to go into the dishwasher. Turns out I was the logical one. Don’t forget to keep an eye out for @what-is-your-plan-today​ and @ohthankevans13​ for there updates. 

Series Masterlist

There was the loud sharp sound of laughter from the outdoor patio, which Ransom joined in as well with his own genuine laugh while having a firm hold of your thigh under the table, his thumb sweeping back and forth over the soft material of your leggings while your hand was clasped over his in reassurance, easing his hand loose to weave your fingers through his. 

This evening a couple friends of yours came over to the house to visit and have dinner, which you knew Ransom had been a bit apprehensive with. Not that he didn’t like your friends, sure he did, they were perfectly nice people you had grown up with, Rick and Sandy. But they weren’t like Ransom’s usual friends, other people in the same arrangement he had been, trust fund kids who didn’t give two shits about anyone but themselves. Perhaps that was a good thing. He was still learning how this whole being married thing worked. 

So Ransom was a bit nervous all damn day, brushing it off though as in ‘He was Ransom Drysdale and did not give a shit what anyone thought about him.’ You knew this to be a lie, that he actually wanted to make a good impression on them. Just from the way he was acting all day, double checking there was enough wine and beer for your guests. That the house was generally picked up looking. He even offered to go pick up dinner, which you were not going to say no to. Writing out a list with a firm “Just pick up this list, NOTHING ELSE.” 

And it just raised your suspicions when he came home with steaks. High end expensive steaks that had been hand cut by the butcher at their local shop. You gawked at them as you had actually put burgers on your list. You peeked in the rest of the bags. There wasn't the buns, chips or anything else you had written. But the ingredients for grilled veggies, potato and garlic bread. 

“You didn't have to do this Ransom. I thought you were going to stick to the list?” You remarked as you looked at the steaks he so carefully let laid to rest on the kitchen counter before taking them to be grilled. 

“Well if we're going to entertain, we’re doing it right.” He responded and that's when it clicked, this was his way of showing he could take care of his family, be something more than what everyone thought him to be, so you dropped it. Going to your tiptoes, you pecked his cheek with a thank you, and went from there. 

Now it was the end of dinner, you felt Ransom relax more and all four of you enjoyed a fun conversation, some of which was Rick and Sandy filling Ransom in on some of your younger years, a devilish grin would spread across his face. “Oh trust me, she's still just as bad, just better at hiding it.” 

“Hush I'm an angel.” You made a move to gather some dishes when Ransom sprang up to take them from you. “You are the one who fully corrupted me Ransom.” you smirked at him, which you could see a bit of color rise in his cheeks and his eyes crinkling in the corners with a grin. 

“Something I take great pride in Princess. I got the clean up, you continue visiting.” He offered and you smiled a thank you while settling back down. Rick and Sandy gathered their plates, with nothing but praises for the whole meal, especially those perfectly grilled steaks, which you glanced at Ransom to see a slight satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before you turned back to your friends. 

Ransom headed back into the house from the patio with the plates and utensils, listening while you restarted the conversation. He didn't bother shutting the door, leaving it open to let the conversation flow into the house as well as the breeze of the evening. Flicking on the overhead light, he popped open the dishwasher and started to randomly put plates in wherever they fit as the dishwasher was already half full from the night before’s dishes as well as their breakfast ones. Then he started dumping the utensils into the tray lining the side made specifically for them. He wasn't paying attention though, forks were going in tines down or up, spoons shoved in any spot they would fit and the wickedly sharp steak knives went in handle down, their points glinting maliciously face up, ready to strike any unsuspecting hand. 

Which Ransom did, when he grasped another bundle to shove in, and his palm, slid along the tip of the knife along the meatiest part, near his thumb. 

A blossom of red spread on his hand, as well as a sharp surprising pain, making him jerk back and clatter the handful of forks across the dishwasher and floor. “Son of a Bitch!” He yelled rather loudly in shock as red droplets dripped over the dirty dishes and across the tile floor till he got to the sink and turned on the tap. He could feel a wave of naseau wash over him as his vision blurred a moment and sharpened seeing the red swirl down the sink. 

You happened to hear Ransom yelp and curse as the door was open, as well as Rick and Sandy who looked with concern towards the house. A glance over your shoulder showed Ransom standing at the kitchen sink, and you could see from there that his face was tensed and almost in pain looking. “Excuse me.” You said hurriedly and pushed from the patio table to rush inside. “Ransom? Oh god what happened?” You grabbed a hand towel to press against the gash on his hand to get the bleeding to stop, his face whiter then usual. “Breath Ransom, don’t pass out.” You tried to draw his attention to you instead of at the red welling up again before you pressed the towel against it. 

He hissed when you pressed down from between clenched teeth. “Fucking knife got me while I was loading the dishwasher.” 

You glanced at the dishwasher and could see the mess that it was left in. Knowing you would have to set it straight, especially the knives, as half of them appeared to have been tossed in point up. 

“Christ Ransom, you gotta put the knives point down for this reason.” You said hurriedly as you pried the towel up to take a peek at his hand. “We have to take you to the emergency room, this is pretty deep. You are going to need stitches.” 

“Nah- I should be alright.” He started when he wobbled a bit, his other hand grasping the edge of the counter. Its that moment Sandy poked her head in. 

“Do you guys need any help?” 

You were immediate before Ransom could protest. “How about a rain check on Cards Against Humanity? I think we need to get some stitches for Ransom.” 

Sandy then came in fully to take a look at Ransom's hand. “Let me take a look? I’m a nurse, and can tell you if they will give you any stitches.” 

Ransom lifted the hand towel once more and she hummed while looking at it. “Yup, looks just like the cut Rick had a couple years ago. Steak knife get you?” 

“Not fucking intentionally.” Ransom growled a bit, getting agitated now feeling he was under scrutiny. 

“Ha, Rick said the same thing.” Sandy chuckled and her husband came in, happening to hear her.

“Well I forgot I put the knife in the water when I was washing the dishes.” He came to Ransom’s defense with a dumbass excuse and at this point Ransom was ready to go to the emergency room, just to get out of this curve of a disaster the evening took.

Sandy dabbled at the wound with the cloth when the blood welled up again and Ransom this time felt his head swarm. “Im going to...” and thats when he slumped, you and Sandy trying to catch him and Rick managing to get his arms under Ransoms armpits and ease him down to the floor. You straightened up with a hand against your lower back and one pressed to your baby bump, sighing. 

“Ransom can’t handle blood... I’m hoping this isn’t whats going to happen with shitty diapers to.” 

***************************

After You managed to get Ransom to the emergency room, and he was once again patched up and left alone, you were sitting nearby, counting your fingers and muttering to yourself. 

“What are you doing Y/N?” Ransom winced as he flexed his hand a bit, and you smirk at him. 

“Counting how many times we have been to the emergency room in the past 6 months. This makes three times. You are like a walking talking disaster Ransom, I’m a bit surprised it has been this long since we’ve last visitied.” 

He glared at you while he stood and took his coat from you to shrug it on. “Eat Shit Y/N, I never visited the emergency room till I hooked up with you. What does that say?” 

You shrugged. “That I’m not as much as a dumbass as you Ransom, but that’s okay. I love you anyways.” You tuck into his side as you two leave the room. 

“Yea yea, Love you to Y/N.” He rolled his eyes, wincing as he dug his injured hand into his coat pocket, looking for the Beamers keys.

[rainboq]

Thank you for the prompt! Here's one in return. #3 (kiss on the cheek) pricefield

You asked for a kiss on the cheek, you get an entire date and Chloe being a massive disaster. Enjoy! Apologies in advanced for my nonexistent Spanish skills. I’m going insane. It’s just Max, why the hell am I going insane? Chloe sighs as she sits in her truck, one hand on the wheel while the other hovers over the send button on her phone. Fucking Rachel and her big ideas. Just ask her out Chloe, it’ll be fine Chloe, you’ve known her since you were a little kid Chloe. 

A little traitorous part of her wished that Max had just said no so she could get the rejection over and done with. Instead, her dorky little face with it’s stupidly cute dimpled smile and earnest eyes had light up like Chloe had told her that there was going to be new episodes of Hawt Dawg Man or something. And not, you know, a date with her dumb punk ass.

Just hit the damn button Chloe so you can blow this already and tell Rachel you told her so. There’s no way someone as smart and talented as Max wants anything to do with me. She’s just doing this for old time’s sake.

Her finger taps the button and she locks the screen so she can’t stare at it and ratchet her anxiety up higher.

Ha. As if she has any control over her anxiety right now.

Her phone buzzes with Max’s reply and she takes a few deep breaths to try and steady her nerves. Her usual go to right now would be smoking, but she forgot her damn pack at home like a dumbass in her flurry of getting ready. At least I didn’t fuck up Rachel’s makeup job.

Is Max even going to like me with this much makeup on? She knew me before I ever started wearing any.

She does an impromptu drum solo on her steering wheel to try and get some of her nervous energy out, to mixed success when her eyes spot movement in the lobby of Max’s building. She turns in her seat, gets a look at her and promptly forgets to breathe. Chloe had said to dress up a bit, and Max had taken the liberty of wearing a flowing black dress with some matching leggings. It’s not nearly as showy as the things Rachel wears to parties and events, but there’s something about the way her freckled shoulders look under the straps that makes her heart squeeze. Those damn freckles, why do they have to be so cute?! Dammit, breathe, don’t be a total dweeb in front of Max because she grew up and got hot.

Fuck she is hot though.

I’m so boned.

Max spots her truck as she pushes out through the inner door and a great big dorky smile spreads across her face as she waves enthusiastically. Chloe waves back and scoots across the bench seat to throw the passenger door open. A moment later Max is climbing in, all winning and too god damn adorable smiles. “Hey Chloe!”

“Uh, hey Max! You look… hella great.”

Max’s cheeks go a bit red as she hunches her shoulders forwards, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know about that, but you look amazing.”

There’s no part of Chloe’s stolen blazer and worn black jeans that qualify as amazing to her, but if Max likes it she’s not about to complain. “Thanks,” Chloe tries to say as smoothly as she can muster despite the slight wobble in her tone, “You down for some food?”

“I’m hella starving.” Max replies with a cheeky grin as she shuts her door. “I’m so down for this ‘best taco truck in town’.”

Rolling up to a dumpy taco truck in her old brick with someone as gorgeous as Max suddenly has Chloe feeling like Max really deserves a better first and probably only date, but plans are plans. “Then let your noble steed be off, fair maiden!”

Max breaks out in gigglesnorts as Chloe pulls out of the parking lot. “You did not just use one of William’s lines on me!”

“I so hella did Caulfield, what’re you gonna do about it?” Chloe adds a wink, hoping it’ll cover up how obviously sweaty as hell her palms are right now.

“Oh, I’ve got something in mind.” Max says in a low tone that makes Chloe have to fight to not choke on her own spit.

Oh god, is Max actually flirting with me? I’m so not fucking ready for this. “You down to thrash a bit hippie?”

“As long as your bony elbows don’t hit me!” Max replies with a laugh and Chloe punches the radio on.

The scratchy punk from the local station starts blaring and Chloe internally breathes a sigh of relief at not having to try and deal with Max’s flirting for a moment. Oh god, I can hear Rachel laughing her ass off at me right now.

Max for her part grooves along, and Chloe has to focus to avoid going off the road because of it. God she still dances like a total dork! Fuck, it should be illegal to be this cute or something.

Thankfully they make it to the taco truck without Chloe running into anything, despite her distracted driving, and she pulls them up to the sidewalk. I just hope she likes it or this is going to be a hella lame date.

“Hungry Max?” Chloe asks as she throws her door open after shutting off the radio.

“I’m so hungry, you have no idea.” Max replies as she does the same before sheepishly admitting, “I also kinda skipped lunch.”

Chloe jumps out of her truck and jogs around the front of it as Max clambers out. “Jesus Christ Caulfield, no wonder you ended up so short.”

“What! Hey! Not all of us get to be so freakishly tall.” Max groans and sticks out her tongue.

“Yup, it’s just my burden to bear. Now what do you wanna eat?”

“I mean, you know what’s good here.” Max shrugs as she walks alongside Chloe towards the food truck. “Order for me?”

“Spicy or nah?”

“No way, never spicy.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh at the way Max shakes her head and waves her hands in the air. Yup, still a total dork. “Can do Maximo. Just wait here.”

Chloe skips ahead a few steps and shouts out, “¡Hola Alejandro!”

There’s a clattering sound inside the truck and a middle-aged man’s face appears, “¡Aha! ¡Flaca! ¿Como estas?”

“Muy bien, gracias. ¿Y tú?”

“Bein.” He says with a nod and a big smile.

“Bien, quatro numero doce con polo por favor.” Chloe says, before turning to grin at Max who looks a little stunned.

Alejandro sticks his head out to see what she’s looking at before pulling back in and grinning broadly. “¿Tu amor?”

Chloe shrugs, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she rubs the back of her head. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I forgot how to say that in Spanish. Way to go dumbass.

Alejandro, to his credit, doesn’t need it spelled out for him as he pokes his head back out and calls out to Max, “¡Hola bonita!”

Max freezes up for a moment before doing a little wave back. “H-hola.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Alejandro grins at her, before retreating back into the food truck to start working on the order.

Chloe pulls out her wallet from her blazer’s pocket and takes out approximately the right amount of money plus tip and drops it on the counter before jogging back to Max with a big idiot grin on her face. “And that’s the food!”

“I guess I should probably learn some Spanish if I’m going to be living large in LA, huh?” Max asks sheepishly, doing that thing she used to do when they were kids where she’d hold her arm.

“Prolly a good idea,” Chloe says as she moves to stand next to Max. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“Maybe I should have brought a sweater, I always forget how cold it gets here when the sun goes down.”

“Here, stand next to me, the food should warm you up.” Chloe holds out her arm and Max doesn’t hesitate to tuck into her side.

A sort of silence settles in as Max hums softly to herself and chews on her lip while Chloe watches the window for the food. The pressure of Max against her feels good, great even, but it all feels so surreal. “I can’t believe we’re actually on a date.”

“Oh no?” Max giggles softly as she snakes an arm around Chloe’s waist, “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“How about the part where you said yes?”

“When I told my parents, my dad announced that Joyce and mom owe him fifty bucks.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe somehow manages to not stammer.

“They all had a bet, our dads bet that we’d date some day.”

Chloe turns her eyes heavenwards, where the few stars visible in LA are starting to poke out as the sun sets. I guess you’re smiling on my dumb ass from up there, huh dad?

“¡Loca!” Alejandro shouts from the truck as he puts their food out.

“That’s us.” Chloe says before reluctantly pulling away from Max, “we’ll eat in the back of my truck, meet me there?”

“Sure thing.”

Chloe trots over, grabs the two trays of food. Damn, dude threw in tortilla chips gratis, I fucking owe him a bigass tip next time I come.

Max waits for her, standing next to the now open tailgate. “After you, mademoiselle.”

“You know French?” Chloe asks with a cocked eyebrow as she slides the trays into the bed before climbing up.

“I picked up a couple things from an ex.” Max shrugs as Chloe turns, offers her a hand and hauls her up into the bed.

They end up sitting together at the far end, their backs resting against the cab as Chloe divides the food between them. “Eat up, short stuff.”

“Oh my god, stop making fun of my height you beanstalk!” Max laughs as she elbows Chloe.

Chloe just cackles as she pulls out her first taco and takes her first bite. Come on Chloe, it’s Max, but it’s still a date so don’t eat like a total fucking slob.

She waits until she’s actually finished her first mouthful and swallowed before turning to Max, “How is it?”

“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” Max mutters as she finishes her first mouthful, “Legit the best taco I’ve ever had.”

“Did I tell you or did I tell you?” Chloe grins in triumph before taking another bite of her taco.

They don’t talk much as they consume their tacos, they’re too tasty. Chloe finishes first and has to resist the urge to shout her victory like they did when they were kids having stupid eating contests. Instead, she starts popping tortilla chips into her mouth and just kind of watching Max while she waits.

Damn, I’ve seen her a bunch since she moved here and I still can’t get over how damn cute she got. Like even her ‘ugly duckling’ pics from high school look great. I can’t believe I missed out on her braces years though, damn, that would have been hilarious to be around for. That or I would have gotten in a lot of fights for jackasses making fun of her, which wouldn’t have been much of a change honestly…

Max finishes her tacos and beams up at Chloe, “That was delicious! Thank you so much Chloe!”

“Hey, you deserve it, also hang on, you got some sour cream on your nose.” Chloe grabs a napkin and wipes it off, prompting a giggle from Max.

“You’re adorable.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Max laughs and steals a chip from Chloe’s basket before grinning at her as she eats it.

“What, hey! Those are my chips! You’ve got your own!”

“Yeah but yours are tastier!”

Oh my god, this old game. “What, you want me to feed them to you?”

Chloe’s heart skips a beat as Max’s cheeks flush red. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”

“Only if you feed me yours.” Chloe grins as she feels her own cheeks heating up.

“It's a deal then.”

Chloe holds up one of her chips to Max’s face, who promptly devours it before holding up one of her chips for Chloe, who returns the gesture. Before long they’re both grinning at each other like sappy idiots and swapping chips until their baskets run empty. Max makes a little disappointed noise as they run out and Chloe gathers up their baskets.

“I’ll run these back and we’ll hit the road?”

“Sure thing.” Max says, before stifling a yawn. “Man, I didn’t realize how late it’s getting already.”

“Nah, you’re just getting old, the night’s still young.”

Max jabs a finger into Chloe’s side before laughing, “You ass, don’t you know it’s rude to joke about a lady’s age?”

“I’m older than you!”

“I said a lady.” Max retorts with a smirk as they both get to their feet and hop out of the bed.

“You got me there Maximus Wrecked.”

Damn, I think this is actually going pretty well! She thinks to herself as she jogs back to the food stand and drops the baskets off on the outside counter. From inside Alejandro flashes her a double thumbs up and Chloe grins back at him before turning around to head back to her truck.

Max is already in the cab, holding herself and shivering a bit as Chloe gets in. “Definitely should have brought a sweater.”

Thinking fast, Chloe pulls off her blazer and holds it out to Max. “Here, until the heater decides to start working.”

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she puts the blazer on in a hurry, “This has been great.”

“Hey, you’re great so…”

There’s a giggle from Max before she stifles another yawn. “Dork. We should probably head back though. I had a crazy long day.”

Chloe’s heart sinks and her mind immediately starts racing for ways she fucked this up as she starts her truck up. “Oh, okay.”

“I had fun Chloe, seriously.” Max says, reaching out across the bench and laying her hand on Chloe’s forearm as she shifts the truck into gear. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Oh, okay, so I didn’t completely fuck it up. “Second date, huh?”

“Definitely,” Max smiles warmly as they pull out into the street, “Mind if I put some of my tunes on?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

Soft indie rock fills the cabin as Chloe drives back to Max’s place. Despite the promise of a second date, she really, really, really doesn’t want this to end. She’d hoped to go walking down the beach or something with max, maybe hit up a bar and get a little crazy.

Can’t you just be happy dumbass? You got the second date, just… take it easy. You know better than to rush Max of all fucking people.

The drive back to Max’s apartment is way too short, or maybe she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts that the usual nightmare of LA traffic barely registers. Either way, she’s sitting in front of Max’s building and wishing she was anywhere else in town with Max.

“So, uh…”

“Thank you, I had a wonderful evening,” Max says softly as she scoots across the bench seat and presses a gentle kiss into Chloe’s cheek, one hand cupping her chin.

It takes Chloe a second to remember what words are, much less how to put them together into sentences, but she does manage, eventually as she turns to look at Max. “You’re, uh, hella welcome.”

Something mischievous that ties Chloe’s guts in a knot sparkles in those brilliant blue eyes of Max as she smiles wide, “Do you hella want to come up to my apartment for some coffee?”

[stardustskz]

Smile, For it Suits You

Title: Smile, for it suits you

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: best friends au, fluff, holiday au

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, sickness, typo errors (lmk of there are more)

Member: jeongin

Description: the four times Yang Jeongin ruined your new year’s and the one time you ruined his’

Notes: dedicated to @jeonginks for @districtninewriters ‘s winter exchange fic. first of all, i’m so sorry for it’s late. i was wondering on whether posting it on new year’s eve or on the morning of january 1st but thought of doing the latter. happy holidays eiko! i hope you had a blast holiday and i hope that you’ll like this one, i tried putting as much into it! 

ps. i forgot if there are any word count limit, i’m so sorry if there are

pps. i’m so b=nervous posting this idk why

i.

There’s this superstitious belief that has been going on every January 1st and you neither disagree or agree with it. Okay, scratch that… you are sensitive about it. Ever since your grandmother told your eight year old mind about it, you always made sure to make your first days of every year perfect. 

The following year, you were cautious of your entire January 1st as your parents took you out to the local theme park to celebrate the new year. The day went well with the self reminders that your young mind whispers every time you were about to lose your composure due to the small things that irk you. You went to every extreme ride that you like– perks of having the height to fool the staff for your age. You even won plushies multiple times from the crane machine and the huge human-sized bear that your father got you as a prize in that one fishing game. 

Night time was fast approaching when you decided to have an ice cream without your parents' assistance. Because you were in the age of bragging about how independent you've become seeing to it that you’ll be adding a number to your age in the following months. It was successful! You bought your chocolate coated vanilla ice cream after telling the vendor to have a happy new year. You’re on your way back to where your parents sat on a bench when you saw a boy running fast towards your direction. Your first instinct was to move away from his pathway but it seems that your mind and body forgot how to process your intentions as you fell on your butt, causing your ice cream to fall on the ground as well as stain the lower part of your favorite jacket.  

"Hey!" you called out to the boy who was now about a meter away from you. Your calm and optimism for that day gone. Because he didn’t even apologize or bother to stop from his tracks. 

The boy came to a halt from his frantic running, turned around, and yelled back,

"I'm sorry! But I'm really in a hurry!" he then looked at you apologetically then continued running to god knows where. And oh boy, you were so annoyed as he turned out to be Yang Jeongin from your class. Your everyone-loves-and-adores-him classmate. Everyone falls for his stupid cheeky smile and almost everyone in your class has a huge crush on him. Which is you think, stupid, you were all in fourth grade, how does one know who to like? After that incident your day went sliding downwards, from getting scolded by your parents for ruining your white shirt to losing your favorite hanky from riding the Vikings and you only have one person to blame and it was and still is, Yang Jeongin.

ii.

Quite opposite from your dislike towards Yang Jeongin, you gained the ‘honor’ to be his best friend during 7th grade. It just… happened. When Han Jisung decided to be a dear who made you audition, forcefully, for your school’s theatre club, it so happened that Jeongin was a part of it too. 

Now, during your junior year in high school, you were currently in one of your senior Minho’s parties before the new year. You were in the middle of talking to Jisung and Jeongin when you felt your surroundings started to spin, 

"Hey, I'll just use the bathroom for a bit" you said, excusing yourself from all the talking. You don’t have a clue why you’re feeling nauseous when you only had a cup or two of what seems to be a soda, well, it tastes like it.

"You okay?" Jeongin asked, his tone laced with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you replied, starting your way to where the comfort room was. It was when you started throwing out all the contents of your stomach when you felt a hand on your back, patting it in a calming manner while their other hand puts away the stray strands of your hair from your face. 

"Is this what you call fine? I thought you won’t drink tonight?" he jokingly said, chuckling a bit by your earlier tough act.

"Well, yeah I also thought I wouldn’t." you rolled your eyes at him through the mirror by the sink after you gargled with water. Maybe it wasn’t just a soda after all. You glanced at the door, furrowing your brows when you noticed that it was closed. 

"You closed the door?" you asked him.

"Yeah? I did?" he said innocently.

"There's a reason I left it open dumbass" you said, trying to call out for help but of course people wouldn't hear you due to the loud, obnoxious music blasting by the speakers in the living room, you even heard people shouting. 

"Oh… I didn't see the sign?" Jeongin said, a bit unsure of himself. Truthfully, he doesn't remember seeing it but he may have forgotten that Jisung told him something about not closing a door because the lock was not working well. Maybe this is the door he was talking about. Jeongin pondered.

It was dreadfully silent, but it was a comfortable one, with you frustrated of how the fuck are you both gonna get out before the countdown. You left your purse with Jisung containing both your phones. There’s no way you’ll be able to get out unless Jisung remembers the absence of your presence and he probably won’t do that until after the countdown. Because Jisung tends to get overly excited about fireworks that he’ll forget that you and Jeongin aren’t back yet.

"5 minutes until the countdown, are we really spending our new year here?" you asked, a bit sad to miss the fireworks display and spend your first minutes of the new year inside a bathroom. What a way to start the year.

"I’m sorry, we’re stuck here" Jeongin said, cautious of whether you’re mad or not. You went closer to where Jeongin sat inside the bathtub, planning to sit beside him.

“I’m not mad, just… annoyed?” You said, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, maybe it was the alcohol or how comfortable you were around your best friend but you soon drifted to a deep slumber after hearing the fireworks explode outside, remembering to greet Jeongin a “Happy New Year, Jeongin” before completely shutting down.

And if Jisung said something about you getting locked last year in Minho's bathroom and only managing to get out the following year, as if it’s a good joke, you definitely punched him for it.

iii.

The news of Jeongin and his family moving to your neighborhood the following year surprised you. Of course you were ecstatic about it, even more when you saw their moving truck beside your house. You were about to be neighbors! Ever since then, you’ve been spending most of your time with Jeongin, more than what you both used to, your moms also got a lot closer. Which is why they decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve with both families. 

A few hours before the countdown, you decided to hide away in your room, deciding to sleep before the clock strikes 12 because you sure are exhausted by all the preparations. You were lying in your bed with your feet dangling at the bottom, the happenings from earlier that day flashing in your mind. You heard the door to your room opened but you didn’t even bother to look at who it is. 

“Everyone’s looking for you” Jeongin’s familiar voice said. He went closer to your figure only to see that you have your eyes closed, he thought that you’re already asleep,

“I’m tired, let me sleep for a while.” you said, eyes still closed. You tapped the space beside you signaling for him to sit there if he wants. However, Jeongin chose to lie down beside you. And you never opposed it. 

“Wake me up before the countdown.” you said, tiredness completely settling in your system, the hazy figures in your mind beginning to be more vivid as your dream completely took over your consciousness.

Jeongin rolled his eyes at your command, but he will anyway. Turning on his side, his sharp looking gaze softened as his eyes landed on you. He carefully watched how your eyes are now closed, with your lashes curled adorably. You look like an angel whenever you’re sleeping. You were never this peaceful looking when you’re awake because you're the type to furrow your brows more than smile on a daily basis. But right now, your brows are not furrowed even in the slightest bit and the corners of your lips are lightly pointing upwards, a sign that maybe, you’re having a good dream. It continued like this when Jeongin realized that he’s also falling asleep, and even falling harder, as he kissed the night with a goodbye as well.

You both completely missed the countdown but it wasn’t like you were mad about it. When you woke up the next morning, with your best friend still beside you, you figured it was a shame to not witness the fireworks display for two years in a row but you had a great time with finally sleeping for more than eight hours. 

Despite that, yes, you still blame Jeongin.

iv.

It was the first time that you’ll be spending your new year in a different place than your own home. You were already in your third year in college and your group of friends decided to spend your new year at a vacation house near the provinces of your country. Of course, your parents only allowed you to go if Jeongin would be there and thank god you both are in the same circle of friends. 

The original plan was to go together as a group and ride Chan’s van all throughout your three day escapade. However, you have to attend a family gathering in the morning of December 31st, which was the reason why you were left with Jeongin and his truck. You had everything prepared, from the music for the road trip to the snacks that you two bought from your shopping two days prior. And the only thing left is the long journey. Your friends already arrived at the destination by the time you and Jeongin left your place. You were both jamming to different genres of songs, with you feeding Jeongin a chip or two from time to time,

“You can sleep, you know, we still have a long way.” Jeongin said, glancing at you as you yawn from the passenger’s seat. 

“No, no. I can’t leave you for yourself. You can also get sleepy anytime soon.” You said, cautious of possible incidents that may occur. 

“Suit yourself y/n” He said, as you blasted an even livelier song on his radio. 

You were both listening to ‘Wannabe’ with Jeongin doing the shoulder dance and his eyes almost disappearing due to all the smiling and singing when the car slowed down in a not so good manner, as you think.

“What’s happening?” you asked him, maybe panicking for a bit because you were both currently in the middle of nowhere and the sun was already setting. 

“I don’t exactly know,” Jeongin said, his bright smile no longer visible as he stared down on the steering wheel, wondering what the fuck is wrong with his truck. 

“It won’t start.” he said, after a few attempts of once again turning on the car’s engine.

“I should go find help somewhere nearby.” you said, because clearly, your phone’s signal isn’t working as well. 

“No, we should go together, it’s dangerous,” he said preparing to get off the car as well

“Help me push the car to the side of the road first.” he added, then you both worked on it. 

After grabbing all your important belongings, you both started walking forward, continuing the path of the road in hopes of seeing a gas station or an apparel or something.

“I feel like I brought upon misfortune with you whenever we celebrate the new year together.” Jeongin said, probably blaming himself for what just happened.

“It’s not like we can control everything that’s happening around us.” you replied, looking at Jeongin’s sullen expression. 

“Hey! Don’t frown, you look like someone who’ll eat me up alive” you told him. Well, he’s not particularly frowning but Jeongin’s scary whenever he’s not smiling. You noticed the sky slowly get dark and you managed to get sight of something bright at the road ahead.

“Still, I’m sorry this happened, y/n.” he said, coming to a stop only to lock his gaze on yours to sincerely apologize. 

“Stop apologizing dumbass, look I can see something ahead.” you said, mirroring his gaze and smiling as brightly as you can. Jeongin has been your support ever since you two have been attached to the hip. His bright personality is so much of a contrast to your snarly, hostile and strong attitude. And he brightens up your day almost everyday even though he can also annoy the hell out of you. But still, you can’t bring yourself to hate or get mad at him. Because a single smile from Jeongin, all your irritations and annoyance will surely melt away. It just does. The moment Jeongin smiled at you, with his cheeky grin that managed to show his dimples, as a reply, and nodded in agreement and determination, to walk towards where you were pointing out, all your worries for that night went away. Together with your belief that all new years are supposed to be spent in a perfect manner. Because this time, although you spent your new year by the parking lot of the gas station that you both found, you don’t blame Jeongin for all the things that went wrong in that specific year. And at the very least, you get to spend it with the person you cherish the most.

v.

“Why did you decide to spend your January 1st with me dumbass” you asked him, as you opened the door to your dorm, thanking your roommate who went home for the holidays. 

“Well, my also, ‘dumbass’ best friend stayed at the dorms for the holidays and worked themselves up because of finals and now they can’t go home due to a very high fever.” he rambled. You finally let him in because you can already feel your limbs giving up on you. 

“Look! You can’t even stand up on your own!” Jeongin scolded, wrapping his arm around you while he escorted you back to your bedroom. He managed to tuck you in your bed and placed a cooling pad on your forehead before he quickly left for the kitchen, without saying a word. Minutes later, he came back with a bowl of porridge in between his hands.

“You can cook?” you teased.

“Eat.” he said, his expression was serious so you had no choice than to immediately oblige on his command, yes, he was mad and you are kinda scared of this type of Jeongin. You quickly finished it and took the medicine that he gave.

“Do you not have any other plans today?” you asked him, your voice almost a whisper.

“Someone ruined my original plans for me.” he said with his tone a bit more harsh than usual. 

“If that someone was me then I don’t need you here.” you said, irritated by his tone, you turned around to face the other side of your bed in order to avoid seeing him. Jeongin must have figured out that you’re mad at him, due to the change of your tone. He took a deep sigh,

“It’s not like that,” he started.

“I already warned you a week ago about overworking yourself and look where it brought you!” he said, his voice now more calm than before,

“And check your phone please.” he added. Your phone? You haven’t checked your phone since last night due to this stupid fever and apparently- Oh. There are multiple calls and texts from him. 

“I asked auntie regarding your whereabouts and I knew from her that you’re down with fever because I thought you went home yesterday morning, to make it in time for new year’s eve.” Jeongin said, you turned around again with your guilt forming because you forgot to tell him.

“I was worried, y/n. I prepared something for you last night, we were supposed to-” you cut him off,

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you,” you said, trying to find his gaze,

“Are you mad?” you asked, taking his hand that was resting on his sides.

“N-no, I’m not. I just-” he took another sigh, “I was just so worried, we can continue whatever road trip I prepared for us anytime this year just please don’t disappear on me again.” he said, more like, begged as he held your hand between his’. 

“Okay,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“I won’t do it again, now please smile?” you asked, hoping for him to please just smile again.

Because did he just see you act cute in front of him? Apparently, yes.

“Oh my god okay!” he said and laughed out loud.

“Don’t do that again, this is why I’m the cute one between us!” he said, holding his abdomen for his dear life from laughing too much. You frowned. But this is better. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your first day of the year.” you said, because he wouldn’t be able to go out as he chose to take care of you.

“It’s fine, I intended to spend it with you in the first place” he said, still recovering from the good laugh that he just experienced.

“Wait, so you’re supposed to take me to star gazing?!” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah? I’m sure my truck won’t fail me this time but you did.” he said, you’ve been bothering him about this request of yours since last year due to his car ruining new year for the both of you. 

“Hey! You already forgave me for that!” Jeongin only laughed and told you to go rest and sleep already. At first, you refused to, but you remembered that you’re still down with a fever and your body gave up on you already. But that day, you fell asleep with a smile on your face. All these time, from the previous years that you had until now, you were searching for perfection for all your first days of the year. However what or rather, who you really need is someone that would stay with you no matter how much misfortune you get. And gladly, you have a dumbass of a best friend for that. 

[stonerz4sokka]

the gaang (& co.) on zoom

aang: ALWAYS mixes up his class times and it isn’t until sokka helps build his schedule and set reminders on aang's phone that he actually shows up to the right class at the right time, always excited to be there but is constantly getting distracted by the littlest things (doesn’t help that his window is behind his computer), isn’t afraid to tell the teacher when the hw assigned is too much (the whole class thanks him for that), types jokes in the class chat, wears his appa print pajamas to class everyday, motivates people to stay optimistic during these ‘troubling times’ (and it works)

katara: wears sweatpants and a crewneck everyday but NEVER forgets to do her hair, talks shit about the ugly white girls in their class (some are sokka’s exes) with zuko, wants to do pranks with toph but is too scared of getting caught (though she eventually does a few),  takes the lead in breakout rooms bc she can’t stand the awkward silence although if aang is there they’ll both be very distracting, will literally laugh on camera every time she hears a stupid comment, gives emotional speeches to help motivate her classmates which are well-intentioned but come off as a little preachy :/ people still try though bc they weirdly don’t want to disappoint her, refuses to let a man interrupt her so she will continue talking even if their voices are overlapping for a good 20 secs 

sokka: has an insane amount of reminders, alarms and organizational tools on his phone and computer so he doesn’t forget to go to class, he tries so hard to focus but ends up doing something that’s completely unrelated yet still educational, wears his same dumbass science pun t-shirts to class but he has his hair down more which makes the white girls in his class go crazy, starts all his sentences with ‘i think’ or ‘maybe we should’, tried to be clever once by setting a video on loop for his zoom background so the teacher didnt know he went to the bathroom but forgot to mute himself so the entire class heard him pee :(( his teachers enjoy him more in a zoom setting bc he's less of a distraction but they hate how he never stays on topics and asks questions they dont have the answer to, whenever katara sees him getting increasingly neurotic she’ll send him links to cool small businesses and they’ll ignore their classes n go online shopping together 

zuko: always looks tired and grumpy even when he’s well rested, his camera is at 256p even when he has the newest macbook (azula messed w his computer & he still hasn't realized), extremely paranoid around accidentally unmuting himself so he just never talks, cannot figure out zoom and never screen shares for projects bc it takes him 15 mins every. time. is weird in breakout rooms because he's bad at social situations but he's trying!!! he could try harder tho :/ is able to empathize well with his fellow classmates n tries to lift their spirits (it rarely works but the effort feels nice), the teacher once saw him scream and punch his desk during the desmos activity and sent iroh an email about local therapists who specialize in anger management, spends his breaks between classes crying 

toph: she will pick her nose, eat food, clip her toenails, do anything gross on camera to get back at her history teacher who told her she needs to be more ladylike, is actually cool in breakout rooms she seems like she would be super distracting but she would complain about the shitty teachers n provide insightful thoughts for the discussion/assignment at hand, does her zoom classes in her backyard so she could play with bugs, gives very helpful advice for maintaining ones sanity during online learning

suki: is always wrapped up in her blankets to the point where u can barely see her face, eats on camera & doesn't realize that no one wants to see that shit, she laughs at all the teachers' bad jokes bc she genuinely thinks they're funny, refuses to let sokka outperform in zoom learning so she does actually pay attention although it doesn't look like it, is really chill in breakout rooms n pretends she doesn't really care but will edit the work after class so it fits her expectations, she once farted in the middle of when she was talking and just pretended like she it didn't happen, actually is fine with online learning and likes the flexibility and doesn’t get why sokka is spiraling all the time :// 

azula: oh god, she wears entire outfits with khakis and polos and SHOES!!! for her zoom meetings!!! she. wears. shoes. her hair is always perfect, tries WAY too hard and everyone knows when she wants to speak in class bc she literally starts vibrating on camera, one time someone won a debate against her in class and she turned off her camera for a good 3 minutes, when she turned it back on her eyes were watery and her entire face was red, doesn't understand how people are underperforming over zoom, has the second highest gpa in the school (after sokka) and managed to convince herself he is actively trying to ruin her life but he's just........ sitting there. constantly messes with zuko's google calendar so he's late for class, can clearly see the art of war by sun tzu on her bookshelf in the background

mai: yawns on camera whenever azula talks just to piss her off, doesn't talk often because her teachers & peers underestimate her but she's smart and when she does talk it's always something rlly insightful, one time her and ty lee were paired with jet for a project where he spent the whole time 'explaining' the topics at hand while they did the entire project on another tab and pretended to pay attention to him, tom tom will sometimes join her during class bc he misses her n she acts like she hates it but she does love spending time with him, is actually secretly extremely anxious about maintaining her grades during online learning but only sokka and ty lee can tell, her and sokka gossip through heavily layered inside jokes that only the two of them understand

ty lee: built a completely new daily schedule and organizational system the minute she learned they were switching to zoom, is always ready for class 20 mins before it starts but joins the zoom 2 minutes after class started so no one thinks she’s an overachiever, a great student but she waits too long to speak in class so she barely joins in on the discussions, is seemingly the regular ty lee but every so often she’ll pretend to go to the bathroom & turn off her camera to recollect herself bc she’s always on edge :/, would have the best gpa in the school but doesn’t want to seem intimidating so she purposefully scores lower on certain assignments so she has a 3.75 gpa, 

jet: he tries to subtly vape during class by turning off camera his camera but its really obvious bc when he comes back he’s coughing and waving the smoke out the air, only participates in breakout rooms when the teacher comes in and immediately turns off his camera when they leave, staged a kidnapping during one of his lectures as an elaborate prank but no one cared noticed, someone else recorded the prank and posted it on tiktok where it blew up & all the comments were insulting him, he didn’t care though because ‘there’s no such thing as bad clout’

chan & ruon-jian: has not gone to a single one of their zoom classes sober (honestly barely attend), still tried throwing houseparties even when the cases were at their peak, tried to one-up jet's kidnapping prank by calling SWAT on themselves but ended up getting arrested because they forgot to hide their stash (they sell counterfeit juul pods), worst part was that their prank only got 250 views on yt :(

[tae-cup]

The Chief | Night Terrors (1)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, BUT I DON’T WRITE SMUT OKAY

Word Count: 7.2k Words (Holy guacamole. This took forever to write.)

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Any suspects? Just message me if you want to be tagged! I’m sorry there’s literally no Reader in here, but she’s coming in next chapter, I swear. No, you did not stumble upon an x OC fic, and no I did not tag this wrong, just bear with me XD. Please please read this one, it sets up some good background. 

 Thank you so much to @seokjinsultimatesimp / @kingbewwy for helping with my story planning and ideas!!

Beautiful header by the wonder @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

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       The flight was long. Long, tiring, and utterly boring. Jungkook knew he should have packed something to do on the plane. He had been dependent on the movies in first class and reclining chairs to pass the time. Well, now he was halfway through his fourth movie and sleep was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was quiet across the aisle from him and Taehyung was watching a movie next to him with some snacks he raided from the service cart. Not wanting to bother either of them for entertainment, especially Yoongi, he decided to sit in silence. The movie was getting boring so he turned it off and prayed sleep would arrive. 

It did not. 

He arrived, jet lagged and lacking 13 hours of sleep. 

“Did you sleep?” Taehyung tilted his head as they stood to collect their belongings from the baggage claim. The boy just tiredly shook his head. 

“Hah, guess we’ll have to be getting you coffee!” Seokjin chuckled, having slept most of the flight in peace. Yoongi, despite sleeping for the entire 13 hours, still looked exhausted.  The others just seemed focused on getting their luggage and leaving. They had a lot of suitcases to store their equipment. Jungkook rolled his eyes at his older counterpart.

“I’m fine.” But as he said it, a huge yawn ripped from his chest. Jin grinned, but didn’t mention it as Jungkook’s ears started turning red with embarrassment. 

“Guys, we have to get going.” Namjoon announced. 

“Aye aye, chief.” Jimin saluted cheekily. Namjoon just pressed his lips into a thin line, not amused. The younger male just sighed and nudged the police chief. “You really need to loosen up.”

“And you need to remember that we’re here to solve a murder.” 

“Even better! It’s several murders!” Taehyung chirped, earning a glare from his superior, Yoongi. 

“Aish, you kids.” Hoseok scratched his head. “You shouldn’t be excited that a bunch of people are dead.” He muttered. 

“Sorry, hyung, we just rarely get cases that Joonie agrees to investigate. How else am I supposed to keep up with Yoongi if I never get any experience?” Taehyung glared right back at Yoongi. The older man muttered something under his breath and dragged the younger away by his collar. 

“Where are they going?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He was still trying to get used to the group dynamics and while he wasn’t entirely innocent, he tried to fill up that role in the meantime. The other members looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kookie.” Jimin winked. “He’s probably...teaching Taehyung his place.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to make the connections. “So like yelling? Hyung could’ve just done it here. I mean, he does that all the time!” 

Jimin exchanged a look with Jin. Jin shook his head, Jimin smiled. 

“Kookie, no, Yoongi’s going to-”

“Oh my god, he’s too innocent.” Jin cried, rushing to cover the maknae’s ears. 

“Too innocent for what?” A lazy drawl came across the group, making Jin and Jimin jump. Namjoon chuckled and Hoseok pretended to be distracted on his phone, only stealing a quick glance up. 

     Yoongi’s hair was messy, as if hands ran through them several times. His lips were swollen and he had a large dark spot on his neck, which he quickly covered with his shirt collar when he saw them staring. Taehyung trailed behind him, dazed. He looked relatively the same. Jungkook jumped into action, shoving Jin away. 

“Oi! Yoongi-hyung, I know you wanted to teach Tae a lesson, but isn’t that too rough?!” He shouted pointing at the other’s ‘bruise’. Hoseok began giggling and Yoongi turned impossibly red. 

“Oh yeah, he taught me a lesson for sure.” Taehyung chuckled. Jungkook gaped, eyes flicking between the two. 

“But he didn’t need to beat you up! Why are your lips swollen and there’s obviously a bruise on your neck!” 

      Yoongi began laughing softly and Taehyung’s ears went red. Namjoon sighed and dragged Jin over to help load the car. Hoseok was quick to follow, leaving Jimin to watch the scene unfold. 

“We didn’t beat each other up.” Yoongi explained with a grin. 

“So someone else did?!” Jungkook’s nostrils flared with anger. “Where?!” 

“Slow down, coffee boy.” Taehyung said, amused by his younger friend. “You wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off.” 

“Okay fine, but I could hold my own!” 

The two began to open their mouths to respond when Namjoon shouted at the remaining four. 

“Get over here! We’ve got a long ride.” 

Jungkook rubbed his temples, scrunching his eyebrows up in distress. “Fine, I’ll drop it, but you better tell me soon.” He said in a huff and stomped off to the van, leaving Jimin, Yoongi, and Taehyung to burst out laughing while the youngest pretended not to hear them.

       The town of Cape Springs was old. Old as in ‘stuck in a total time warp’ old. It looked like nothing had been updated since 1950. The van felt out of place, despite the various modern vehicles littering the road. Main street was all one story, one street. The boys looked peered curiously out the windows. The town could be considered charming if it weren’t for the murders happening every Saturday. 

        A stomach growled from somewhere in the van and it set everyone else off. 

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, Joonie.” Taehyung said. “I missed breakfast on the plane.” He complained. 

“Yeah, me too.” Yoongi agreed reluctantly. 

“You slept the entire time, you lazy ass. What are you even using all that energy for?” Hoseok snorted. 

“Thinking, you dumbass.” Yoongi retorted. “Unlike what you do all day, I actually use my brain.” 

“Sure thing, Mr. Head Investigator.” Hoseok said, clearly annoyed by his comments. 

“Yoongi and Taehyung aren’t the only ones.” Namjoon finally gave in, tired of listening to them bicker. It often felt like babysitting children and not a team of well trained detectives, investigators, and policemen.

       Then there was the actual child of the group, 24 year old Jungkook. He was far too innocent for someone of that age, to his hyungs, having grown up around the protective nature of the other boys. Jin pulled into an open spot and parked the car. Taehyung and Jimin threw open the door, rushing to get outside and tumbling out in a heap. The other men chuckled at their antics. 

“You clumsy idiots!” Yoongi reprimanded, climbing out and helping them up nonetheless. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jimin just pouted. The townspeople passing by were quiet, eyes trying not to stare at the obvious newcomers. 

“Let’s go to this diner.” Namjoon said, pointing to a faded sign that read Betty’s Diner. Jin’s eyes surveyed the street. Despite their being people with modern clothing and devices, it still felt like they were transported back to the 1950s. 

“It’s not like there’s much of an option.” Jungkook pointed out, gesturing around the small mainstreet. It was either Betty’s Diner or Isabella’s Ice Cream Parlour and there was only one that held savory food. Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok fought to get through the doorway at the same time, earning an annoyed look from the locals inside. 

“Great, we’re making such a nice first impression.” Yoongi mused, gazing at the four men arguing at the door. Namjoon tried to soothe the wrinkles between his brow as he nodded along. 

“You guys are going to give me wrinkles before I’m 40.” The police chief sighed. 

         When they could finally sit, they were put at a table in the back. The diner had to move several tables and chairs together in order to accommodate. As they ordered, they didn’t even notice the dirty looks they were getting. Seven new, rowdy, men have arrived in town. That could only mean trouble. 

“I do not snore.” Namjoon said, offended. 

“You do too!” Jin fired back. “I sat next to you for 13 hours and god knows how many nights I’ve spent in your-” 

“That’s enough!” He cried, exasperated. The poor man was always under scrutiny from his partners. He loved them all dearly, but dear god it could be a lot to handle. Jin frowned and huffed, looking away. 

“One order of french toast and orange juice.” A waiter interrupted, tone harsh. The group turned to him, surprised. The name tag read ‘Hak-kun’. 

“Here.” Taehyung raised his hand awkwardly after a brief silence. The waiter let out an annoyed sigh and practically threw the plate down with the glass. 

     Taehyung cautiously pulled the plate toward him and the other men eyed Hak-kun. The waiter stormed away without another word. The cook was watching him, everyone in the diner was watching him. There was muffled shouting and next thing they see is Hak-kun is when he’s leaving, throwing his uniform apron onto the ground in frustration. The locals stared before going into a muttering frenzy. Anger issues….always fired...psycho...etc etc.

“Should I have gotten pancakes instead?” Taehyung asked after a tense silence. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. 

“Obviously. Who eats french toast for lunch?” He scoffed. 

“Pancakes aren’t exactly a lunch food either.” Jin piped up. 

“But at least they fit into a category.” Yoongi started, ready to rant. “They know their place. They’re a breakfast food! French toast is like in mealtime limbo. Nobody ever wants french toast just for breakfast; they can also have it for lunch and dinner!” 

     Jimin was in a fit of laughter at the usually subdued man’s outburst. 

“Think they poisoned it?” Jungkook playfully nudged Taehyung who grumbled something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like ‘They might’ve’. Lunch continued as normal. Yoongi sat in silence for the rest of the time while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin made the group laugh with their antics. 

        The police station was dusty. Old and dusty, looking like a ghost town. Namjoon peered inside, glancing around to see a bored desk attendant. He waved, but the attendant even spare him a glance. Jin cleared his throat. The attendant jumped, looking up with dazed eyes. 

“Oh, hello? Has there been an emergency?” He asked with a questioning gaze. The seven men shifted awkwardly. 

“Uh, hello, we’re from the Bangtan police department. Were you not expecting us? We can come back at another time-” Namjoon began and the man quickly stood. 

“No! Not at all! Sorry, it’s been slow recently.” 

The men exchanged glances. 

“But...there have been a lot of murders recently, have there not?” Yoongi tilted his head. The man was sweating and they couldn’t tell if it was because it was hot or because he was guilty of something. Of course, Yoongi and Taehyung tended to intimidate people, it was part of their job, so that could also be the issue. 

“Yes! That’s why you’re here. Uh, I’ll grab the chief.” The man quickly left, rushing into the back. He opened a door into the backroom and loud talking could be heard before it was muffled once more by the door. 

      Namjoon looked lazily down at his watch, Jungkook tapped his foot nervously, Yoongi was whispering with Taehyung, Jimin was giggling about something with Hoseok, and Jin kept his eyes trained on the door. 

      A pudgy man walked through the door, a faded blue officer uniform on. He took in the men standing in his station, then looked uneasily back at the attendant. They exchanged looks and then the attendant scurried back to the desk, shrinking in his seat. The chief smiled at the men. 

“Hello boys!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! When did you get in?” He ushered them into the back where there were empty desks lined up next to each other. Dust hung in the air, only seen in the thin streams of light coming through the slats in the windows. 

“We arrived a few hours ago, we ate at Betty’s Diner.” Namjoon said. The others nodded along with the statement. The police chief’s eyes sparkled. 

“Ah, great food yeah?” 

“Definitely!” Taehyung piped up, only to be nudged hard by Yoongi. Despite being part of Yoongi’s investigative team, he had trouble reading the room. The chief seemed cheerful but there was an odd cloud of tension. 

“What’s your name, sir?” Namjoon cut in. 

“Oh right, you can call me Officer Nam.” He held out his hand and Jin reached forward, shaking it. 

“Officer Kim Seokjin, but I go by Jin.” Jin introduced himself. 

“You can call me Namjoon.” The younger man smiled, taking Officer Nam’s hand after Jin and gave him a firm shake. Before the office could respond, the other men were taking his hand, shaking it and introducing themselves. 

“Officer Min, head of investigations.” 

“Oh don’t mind the grump, I’m Officer Kim, but just call me Taehyung. This dumbo is Yoongi.” The energetic man shook Officer Nam’s hand several times excitedly. 

“Hoseok.” The other officer was formally trained. He gave Nam a firm handshake, his grip like iron. 

“I’m Jimin, pleasure to meet you sir.” The smaller man smiled widely. Officer Nam returned the smile warily. “That’s Jungkook.” He nodded towards the younger boy who had fallen silent. “He’s training with us, he’s mostly here to observe the process.” 

“Sorry, we can be a bit much in the beginning.” Jin said. It didn’t take a detective to see that Officer Nam was overwhelmed. 

“Oh it’s quite alright. There hasn’t been much we’ve been able to figure out much information with these murders. People are on edge, ya know? They clam up, won’t talk much.” Officer Nam explained. “We often leave it to our intern to handle public affairs, she’s more versed in...talkin’ to people.” 

“Intern?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, speaking for the first time. The officer seemed surprised to see him standing there, but nodded nonetheless. 

“She’s studyin’ to be an interrogation officer and needs some experience with a more experienced crew than us. The town is usually quiet.” 

“I see.” Namjoon murmured. 

“She won’t get in yer way!” Nam exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s just a little shy.” 

“Where is she?” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Well, she should be clocking in right about...now.” The office glanced at his watch. As if on cue, the door squeaked open. 

“Officer Nam? I’m here!” A soft voice called into the station. The men whirled around to see a small girl. She looked almost fragile with dark hair and a lithe frame. She looked startled to see the seven brooding men. “Sorry!” She squeaked, ready to flee the room. 

“Actually!” Officer Nam interrupted, halting her in her tracks. “Come here, I want to introduce you to Bangtan Police.” 

       She tentatively walked in. She looked like prey walking into a lion’s den; and she could’ve been with the way they were looking at her.

“Yes?” She shakily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“This is Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. They’re from The Bangtan Police Department and I’d like you to spend the remaining time in your work study with them to help solve this case.”

“W-why?” She turned, alarmed, to look at her superior. 

“Because they have much more experience and you haven’t gotten much experience with us here.” He explained, his gaze filled with something akin to fatherly love. “Now, introduce yourself.” He nudged her towards them. 

      The girl looked up hesitantly. Her gaze flickered away quickly, despite the encouraging smiles on their faces. 

“I’m Hae-won.” She murmured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can work well together.” 

     The boys were already swooning, hearts beating loudly. Once the chief left to discuss details with Namjoon, the boys split off to look around. Jungkook immediately took a place next to Hae-won. 

“Hey, Hae-won.” He grinned. She flushed and looked away. He was reminded of Y/N, but Hae-won was 10x shyer it seemed. “Wanna show me around?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Her voice was barely a whisper. 

“Now come on, how are you going to be an interrogation officer if people can barely hear you? Speak up.” He teased. Hae-won looked up startled, eyes wide. 

“Oh right, yeah, that.” She murmured, more to herself than anything, but Jungkook heard it. 

“Do you not want to be an interrogation officer? That’s perfectly fine, y’know?” Jungkook paid no mind to her confused expression. “It’s not perfect for everyone.” 

“Hm.” She didn’t seem amused, just lost in thought. She seemed to notice the awkward pause, however, because she tugged on his arm. “Right, let me show you my favorite part of this station!” 

        As Jungkook was dragged away, Yoongi spoke with Jin. 

“The people here are...odd.” the paler man spoke. 

“It’s a small town, Yoongles.” Jin said.

“I guess...and don’t call me that.” 

“What?”

“Yoongles.” The man scoffed. Jin swatted his arm. 

“Now, is that anyway to talk to your hyung?” The older man teased. 

    In the corner, Taehyung and Jimin were looking around the empty station. 

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung scrunched his nose, trying not to sneeze as a plume of dust flew into his face. Jimin ran his finger along the edge of a desk, tilting his head as he looked at the fine layer of grime on his finger. 

“Not sure. Maybe it’s just an off day.” Jimin shrugged, wiping his finger off on his pants. 

“I mean, why have all these desks if you don’t use them?” 

“Hae-won suggested we get them.” Officer Nam said, arms crossed as he appeared in the doorway. Taehyung jumped, goosebumps running up his arms as Jimin tapped his foot nervously. 

“Why?” The detective asked. 

“She said ‘just in case’.” The officer mimicked the young girl. They surveyed the room. Eight desks. 

“Hm. Interesting.” 

Officer Nam just shrugged nonchalantly. “That girl can be a little weird sometimes. She’s too eager, too soft for this line of work.”

“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.” Taehyung suddenly felt the need to defend the poor girl. Officer Nam’s lips slid into a sleazy grin. 

“I see.” He said. 

“Let’s split up.” Namjoon announced upon arrival. The alleyway was in a rather shady part of the town. There was fresh blood on the stones, a smear on the pavement, an arc of blood across the wall. None of them even flinched, not even Hae-won. 

“I’ll take Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin.” Jin said. “Let’s look over the crime scene.” 

        Taehyung nodded, pulling out his camera to take pictures. Yoongi crouched near the blood smear on the pavement and Jimin wandered around, handing them gloves and then running his hands over every seam in the wall. 

        Namjoon took Hae-won, Hoseok, and Jungkook to interview witnesses and the surrounding townspeople. 

        Jimin knelt on the ground, hand running over a soft texture. Curious, he carefully picked up the object. In his hand was a soft tie, one that looked oddly familiar. He lifted it to the air, examining it in the fading sunlight. It looked new, not exactly a week old. It was possible that it was planted there, but he needed to bring it in nonetheless. The pink haired man took out a ziploc bag and placed the tie inside of it before sealing it up once more. 

“Who was the victim and how was she found?” Hoseok asked, holding a notepad and pen. Officer Nam scratched his head for a minute before walking over to the spot. 

“Right here.” He gestured to where a pool of blood was at the end of the blood streak. “She was leanin’ up against this wall, throat slit as y’know.” 

“Mhm.” There was the scratch of the cheap pen against the notepad as Hoseok wrote down his words. “What was her name?” 

“Mun-hee.” 

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any further information, please do tell us.” Hoseok dipped his head. Hae-won observed from a distance, standing next to Namjoon as he explained the process to her. 

“So Hoseok here is going to ask the most important question first and then go on to specifics. Pleasantries aren’t too necessary until the end. He’ll close with a polite statement and leave.” The chief said as they watched the interaction. “In fact, here he comes now.” 

Hoseok waved at the two and winked at Hae-won. “Didya learn anything?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Hae-won smiled anxiously under his gaze and he laughed. Namjoon pulled at them to regroup with the others as night drew nearer. 

     The next day, they decided to have a formal meeting to discuss the situation. 

“So, we have Mun-hee, killed and placed in the exact same way as Jane Doe.” Jin laid out the facts. “She even looked a bit like Jane Doe. Were they relatives?” 

“No.” Hoseok shook his head. 

“I found a tie at the scene.” Jimin held up the plastic bag. Hae-won looked on curiously. Now Jimin had their attention. “It looks familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it.” 

“That’s from Betty’s Diner.” Hae-won interrupted. “I recognize it and I think it’s Hak-kun’s.” 

“Why?” Namjoon turned to look at the small girl. She pressed her lips into a thin line. 

“Well, he didn’t show up for work so I’m guessing he quit. He called me before that to say he lost his tie and broke down because his boss scolded him for forgetting to wear it.” She mused to herself before straightening again. “Those are just speculations.” 

       The chief of Bangtan smiled at her with a nod of approval. Even Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, Taehyung mimicked his expression. She was wary of the two of them. It always felt like they could see right through her. 

“Listen, it’s Friday. The killer strikes again tomorrow and if it’s Hak-kun, then we need to bring him into custody.” Yoongi said factually. 

“Are you seriously going to gamble people’s lives? What if it’s not him? Then we have no one watching out for the killer because we’re all trying to watch him.” Hoseok looked appalled at the suggestion. 

“Listen, I’m fine with that. We could see if there’s a pattern.” Yoongi shrugged. 

“There are people’s lives at risk here!” Hoseok shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. The other members jumped, surprised to see Hoseok so worked up.

“Jeez, you cops always get so worked up about people’s lives.” Yoongi said with a groan. 

“You’re technically a cop too, ya know?” The man sighed and slouched in his chair, defeated. 

“He has a point.” Taehyung piped up, earning a glare from his mentor. Instead of cowering back, as per usual, he jutted out his chin and continued. “Besides, don’t you think these murders are just too...delicate? Too well thought out for someone who’s doing this simply out of a moment of anger.” 

“We still can’t discount the fact that his tie was found at the crime scene. That’s damning evidence.” Jin jumped in. 

         There was a tense silence, Yoongi and Taehyung exchanging warring glares and Jin now staring intensely at Hoseok. A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitched uncontrollably. Namjoon’s gaze swept the room before he slowly stood, hands pressing to the table. 

“I say we bring him in for questioning. We don’t have to guard him if we just put him in a cell overnight.” He said, trying to reach a conclusion both sides would agree with. Jimin, who hadn’t spoken his opinion, just watched as the team was already divided. 

“Doesn’t it feel like the killer is toying with us?” He murmured, but with the silence in the room, everyone heard. 

“What do you mean by that, Jiminie?” Hoseok turned his attention away from Jin. His movement stirred the other members to look at him, Hae-won remained silent. 

“Mun-hee is found in the exact same situation as Jane Doe, as if the killer expected us and wanted to put on a show. A show of power. They’re saying ‘look, I did it once, I can do it again, and stump you every time.’ A subtle fuck you.” Jimin’s eyes darkened. The other men visibly stiffened, looking around nervously. 

“But how would they know?” Namjoon asked. 

“Small town, word spreads fast.” Taehyung said dryly. 

“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Jin sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation. 

“Well, actually,” Jungkook piped up. The attention turned to him and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Eye witness accounts say they saw a ‘strange man’ walking around.” He spoke, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him. They pondered over this discovery. 

“Hak-kun fits that.” Taehyung muttered, saying what was on the others’ minds. 

“Just because he’s a man?” Hae-won scoffed, a sudden hard tone to her voice that had Jungkook turning to look at her, surprised. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to the quiet voice she usually had. “I mean, I just, I don’t know if that’s enough information, but with his tie, I think it’s a good idea to investigate him.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Well, we’ll bring him in, get a warrant for his arrest, there’s substantial evidence, and interview him. Any objections?” 

       The six men’s eyes scanned the room before they all nodded. They waited, staring expectantly at Hae-won. She flushed a bright red from being thrusted into the spotlight. 

“Y-yeah. That sounds great.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. They all smiled fondly at her.

“Saturday, the countdown begins.” Jin mused, picking up his watch from his bedside table. 

“You’re setting a bad example, joking about these murders.” Namjoon sighed, rolling over, throwing an arm around the older man. The tips of Jin’s ears went red, goosebumps rolling up and down his body. 

“Joonie, some people have a sense of humor.” He snorted, turning over to face the man next to him. He placed his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and slowly leaned in. The chief met the distance, lips brushing Jin’s. Then the chief smiled, pulling away to look at his second in command. He loved this man. 

“I have a great sense of humor, I fell in love with you after all.” 

“I don’t know if I should be offended or touched by your proclamation of love.” Jin huffed, shifting to sit up, hotel blankets pooling around his waist. 

“You’re unfair, Jin.” Namjoon murmured. “So handsome and, fuck.” He sighed, obviously conflicted. 

“We already know I’m the handsomest, Joonie.” 

“But how did you end up with a mess like me? Sometimes you handle the children better than me, and I’m supposed to be the police chief!” 

“They just need a little mothering. And don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure a person like Y/N would throw herself at you if she got the chance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Jin laughed, getting up and pulling on his suit. 

        It was sort of a uniform, black linen pants and a white button up. This was paired with a navy blue suit jacket that had his badge in the pocket. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, mumbling something about there being a lack of room service at this motel. Namjoon just chuckled at his grumbling and got dressed as well. He wore black pants, like Jin, and a white button up shirt, except his suit jacket was a faded brown. 

“You always bring up Y/N, it’s almost like you like her too.” Namjoon pointed an accusing finger at his partner. 

“And what if I did?” 

“Well it would be unfair because I met her first.” 

“You can’t just claim women, Joonie.” He rolled his eyes and opened the heavy hotel room door. 

“I’ll do what I want.”

“You say that now, but we all know she has you whipped.” 

“Who has who whipped?” Jungkook’s curious voice echoed through the hallway. Jin spun on his heel to face the maknae. 

“Now look what you’ve done.” Jin glared at Namjoon who just shrugged innocently. 

“I’m just kidding.” Jungkook sighed. “I’m not as innocent as you guys think I am.” He wandered down the stairs, finally getting tired of acting dumb, the Chief and Second in Command now following him. 

“Elaborate.” Namjoon demanded. 

“Oh please, you guys actually bought that I was that oblivious?” He sat down, ignoring the other men at the table whose conversation came to a halt at the sight of them. 

“Well, I-” Jin’s face was red. 

“Come on, I know Taehyung and Yoongi are practically eye fucking each other every minute and quite literally fucking each other every night. Please keep it down guys.” The youngest pointed a finger at the two men sitting next to each other. They looked away with a huff, but their faces were red. 

“And You two.” He turned to Namjoon and Jin. “You make me sick, really. You’re so cute and reliable. Then you go and flaunt your cuteness to everyone. We all see it! Hoseok and Jimin-guys, just ask each other out already!” 

      There was a long silence. Jungkook shrunk back in his seat, bravado gone, now worried he took it a little too far. 

“Kookie, you’re not aware of the full story here.” Namjoon chuckled after a tense moment, the noise echoed by the other men at the table.

“You really want to tell him?” Jin eyed Joon warily. 

“It’s time he knows.” Taehyung sighed. 

“What? Know what?” Jungkook felt the bubble of envy in his stomach. They kept so many things from him; little secret, jokes. One time they forgot to invite Jungkook to his own surprise party. 

“Well,” Jimin reached out and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “We’re actually...all together already.” 

“Oh.” The younger’s voice was soft, trying not to betray the emotions flowing through him. They were all dating? And without him? Was he fucking seventh wheeling??? “Without me?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

      Jin started laughing his windshield wiper laugh as Hoseok smiled. Taehyung and Yoongi exchanged glances. 

“That was an unexpected answer.” Yoongi muttered under his breath. 

“That’s what we wanted to talk about this morning.” Jimin said soothingly, touch relaxing Jungkook easily. “We want you to join us.” 

“R-really?” 

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded quickly. 

“Is that a yes?” Hoseok asked, watching Jungkook’s mouth open and close. The sounds of the guests around him went underwater. He couldn’t hear anything, emotions spiraling out of control. All six of them? It was insane. But then he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else. 

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Yes!” He said again, louder. Namjoon smiled, cupping his chin with his slender fingers. 

“Then, may I?” He asked for permission softly. 

        Jungkook simply nodded and Namjoon tentatively placed his lips against his. It was quick, brief, one might even think it was an accident if it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s hand on his chin. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, baby, it’s just that...this is a small town. That’s why we’re trying not to be very open.” 

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook refused to pout. He wanted to have some big romantic story, but that would have to wait. They were trying to solve a series of murders, dammit. 

“We should get going.” Yoongi glanced at his watch and the others agreed, standing and taking their suit jackets off the backs of their chairs. 

    The morning breakfast rush had dissipated, now only the metal containers of bacon and eggs left. The place was just as dusty as the police station and it made Jungkook’s nose twitch with the urge to sneeze. 

“Why is everything so dusty here?” Jimin complained, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. 

“Yeah, it’s making me-” Taehyung was interrupted by the loud sneeze that escaped his mouth. 

“Bless you.” Yoongi responded immediately, rubbing Taehyung’s back caringly.

     It was the first sign of affection Yoongi had openly given Taehyung. They were alone, for one, and for two, Taehyung seemed a little down today, just a little sad. 

“Let’s get going, Hak-kun should be in his apartment still, according to the schedule Hae-won gave us.” Jin checked his phone to pull up the screenshot. 

“Why does she have his schedule?” Jimin asked innocently. 

“It’s a small town, who knows?” Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line. 

Knock knock knock. Namjoon waited patiently, his partners waiting near the car so as to not scare Hak-kun off. There was the sound of footsteps and a loud groan. The door opened a crack, stopped by the chain inside. 

“Who are you?” The voice was gruff. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon from the Bangtan Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the murders of Jane Doe, Mun-hee, and others.” 

“Okay one second.” The voice was more awake this time as he shut the door. The chain rattled on the other side and then the door opened fully. A man stood in clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Namjoon immediately recognized him as their rude waiter. 

“Had a rough night?” He tried to be pleasant. 

“Yeah, slept in the car again. The damn heater broke in my apartment.” The man grumbled, stepping aside to let him in. When Namjoon walked in, already tense, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness. 

      Despite the thin streams of light shining through the slats in his windows, the room was in utter darkness. As he adjusted, he could make out piles of clothing on the floor, dishes in the sink, unwashed, and cups littering the floor. There was also an odd assortment of broken items in the corner of the room, hidden in the darkness. 

      It looked like someone threw a rager in this house and then left. The brown haired police chief was surprised anyone could be this messy. Like, he was messy, yes, but he would never let himself degenerate to this state. 

“What do you need to know?” Hak-kun somehow found a place to sit on the couch, but it had a dent carved in it and Namjoon was sure that was the only place you could sit on that couch. 

“Actually, we have a warrant for your arrest due to substantial evidence implicating you in the murder of Mun-hee.” Namjoon dug around his pockets and took out the papers. 

“Oh, I see.” Hak-kun’s eyes didn’t quite meet Namjoon’s. He looked around, jaw clenching in signs of annoyance. 

“What’s that?” The chief asked, pointing to the broken objects in the corner of the room. The man’s nostrils flared in anger. 

“I just get mad sometimes and things happen, okay?” He snapped. “I’ll go with you willingly, I have nothing to hide.” Hak-kun stood and dusted off his pants, though they were already dirty with food stains. 

Namjoon grimaced and nodded, in a hurry to leave the dirty apartment. 

Audio recording #1:

MYG: Is it alright if we record this?

HK: Yeah, it’s fine. 

MYG: Great, okay, please tell us how you are connected to Mun-hee. 

HK: Mun-hee...ah, Mun-hee. We went to school together. Wait, can I get a glass of water or something? I have a splitting headache. 

MYG: Of course. 

KTH: So you knew her?

HK: Hah, well, we grew up together.  It was often just us, this stupid town, the old schools. A lot of kids come here because it’s the closest school around these parts, but only a couple actually live here. 

MYG: Who else lives here?

HK: Hm, there was me, Mun-hee, Joo-Eun, and another girl, her name is slipping my mind. 

KTH: You grew up with these people, though, how do you not know their names?

HK: She was always easily forgettable. She’s not much trouble though, I remember her being a nice girl...until, nevermind.

MYG: Until what?

HK: It’s not my place to say. 

KTH: Well it would do you good to say it.

MYG (muffled): Taehyung get it together. 

HK: I don’t want to talk about it. 

MYG: That’s alright, Hak-kun, I can call you that, right?

HK: Yeah. 

MYG: What do you remember about last saturday? 

HK: Not much. I remember I drank some weird shit at the party-

MYG: The same one Mun-hee went to?

HK: Yes. 

MYG: And why were you there, Hak-kun. 

HK: Mun-hee is, was, my friend, sir. I would never do anything to hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering. Listen, I know you guys are trying your best, but just drop it. I have nothing to do with it. That tie went missing long before Mun-hee’s body was found. I’ve obviously been framed and you stupid ass-

MYG: Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for coming, Sir. Please calm down or we’ll be forced to detain you. 

HK: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, ASSHO-

Beep. 

“Well that was certainly insightful.” Yoongi mumbled, glancing over to where Hak-kun sat, dejected, in his cell. Taehyung sighed and played the tape again, taking more notes of the important information along with his personal thoughts. 

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this.” Namjoon eyed the two with a raised eyebrow. 

“Joonie, he was a difficult person to interview. I could tell he was annoyed the entire time except when he spoke of Mun-hee.” Taehyung frowned, flipping through his notes. “Here, I wrote down ‘aggressively making eye contact and frowning.’”

“Are those seriously your notes?” Yoongi looked through his notes which were pages longer. “Do I need to train you in note taking as well?” 

“No! I just, I don’t notice as much as you, oh wise Yoongles.” Taehyung crossed his arms, pouting. Yoongi just softened his expression. 

“You can always tell me what’s wrong.” He placed a tentative hand on Taehyung’s arm. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hae-won’s soft voice hovered in the air. She was closing the door of the security room behind her. 

     Jin often handled the security room, but he trusted her to watch Hak-kun while he went to the bathroom. Jin slipped back in as she stepped into the room with the others. 

      Yoongi immediately dropped his hand, to the disappointment of Taehyung, and straightened. A cold look once again cast over his face. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I have to head back early to finish up some school work.” She explained with a gentle smile. 

“Okay, rest up and study well.” Namjoon nodded and she dipped her head, heading out the door. They all stared fondly at her retreating form. “The same goes for the rest of you.” 

       They had spent all day just interviewing and wrestling answers out of Hak-kun and yet they came up empty every time. Maybe he was truly innocent and they were trying to convict a good man. This was the kind of case where things could get really messy if they kept going on intuition instead of hard facts. 

“Let’s wrap it up and head back to the hotel. Jin, are you coming?” Namjoon called as the others filed out of the station. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check some things and then I’ll be back in no time.” 

Trusting his second in command, Namjoon left. 

      The first sunlight was filtering through the windows of an empty cell. A glass of water was on the ground next to the cot, tipped over, the ground wet beneath it. 

“How could he have escaped? Where did he go?” 

-

Hands reached out to the unsuspecting man. 

“Do you have a headache? You look in pain.” The voice said, hiding the glinting blade in the moonlight. 

“Who are you?”

“Just a nice person. I have something that could really help.” 

“What is it?”

“Oh, just some medication for headaches. It works wonders.” 

“Pass it here.” 

The man is passed out soon enough and the shadowy figure grabs the keys off one of the hooks in the back and unlocks his cell. Then the figure dragged him out, put him in his car, slit his throat, and placed his face down at the dashboard. They were back home in 10 minutes, bloodlust satisfied. 

-

“The feed is just looping. How did I not notice this before?” Jin mumbled, head in his hands. 

“Hey, it’s okay, the killer was...tricky.” Namjoon comforted his lover. 

“Boss.” Jungkook piped up, holding a phone in the air. “It’s for you.” 

     The chief of police stood and walked over with purposeful steps. It was easy to see why he was the chief. He was sure of himself, walked with purpose, passion, and he always looked like he had a mission. 

“Mhm?” He murmured. “This is he. What? How did it get there? Okay, okay, I’ll send my best men out to investigate. Please hang in there and don’t touch anything.” He hung up, rushing to throw on his suit jacket. “Hak-kun’s body was just found.”

“Where?” Jimin stood as well and the others followed suit. 

“In his car. No one disturbed him, claimed he slept in his car all the time and no one thought much of it. It’s just...so odd.” Namjoon sighed. 

“Why?” Yoongi tilted his head. Their fearless leader wasn’t usually thrown by anything, always keeping a cool facade. But here he seemed to be cracking. 

“His car was found across town.” He raced out the door, watching the others pile in and Jin took the driver’s seat. “I just feel like this case is getting away from us. We’re obviously missing something.” The chief stared out the window, thinking intensely. The other members knew not to make too much noise. 

“Do you think...it’s time to bring someone else in?” Taehyung asked quietly. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook said defensively. 

“I mean,” Taehyung shot the younger boy a look that shut him up. “That we may need more of a specialist in here. There’s one thing we haven’t been able to look at.”

“And that is?” Yoongi closed his eyes lazily as he leaned back in his seat. 

“Blood. We haven’t been able to test the blood.” 

“Well, we only know one reliable person who can do that and she’s probably very busy.” Jin scolded the younger males. “But it’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just take a look and then we can decide.” 

      The street they pulled up to was quiet, not a person in sight. The leaves shifted in the breeze, skittering across the ground. It made for an uneasy sight. They stepped out and Jin locked the car. 

     Jimin handed out gloves and then he went around, feeling over the creases of the blue car, completely ignoring the dead body inside. 

“Found anything interesting?” Jungkook called. 

“Nope.” Jimin responded flatly, concentrated. He peered inside, seeing the blood pooling on the dashboard and dripping into Hak-kun’s lap.

 “I think it’s definitely the same killer. He has the same neck slice.” He felt over the windows. Not a single scratch. “No signs of forced entry or struggle with the car.” He dictated as Hoseok took careful notes. 

“I see no bruising visible on the victim, wait.” He crawled onto the back of the car, peering through the back window. “I see some purple markings on the back of the victim.” 

    The shadowy figure dragged Hak-kun, his back bumping over every curve, spine taking the brunt of the blows. He moaned in pain, starting to stir. The figure panicked. They need to get this over with quickly. 

“Anything else?” Hoseok asked. 

“No, I’d have to see the inside.” Jimin sighed, brushing some hair out of his face. 

“We’ll see what we can do to get the keys.” Namjoon nodded at Hoseok to write that down. 

“This case has me stumped, Namjoon. Obviously, the killer must be drugging them, how else can they get away with all this with no struggle?” Jimin stretched his arms. 

“It’s confusing to me too, but I’m sure we’ll find out something soon enough.” 

“Namjoon, I think we all know who we need to call.” Yoongi set a firm hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and the police chief’s shoulders drooped. 

“But I don’t want to bother her, besides I think we can figure it out, right?” 

“This is her job, It’s time to man up and call Y/N.”

A/N p.2: Hey guys! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! Any predictions yet? I’m sorry this took so long, I was in a creative block

Other: 

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[actualfarless]

Confessions

Unknown to you, your girlfriend is part of a secret organization sworn to stopping an ancient evil. Unknown to her, you are that ancient evil.

Story below or read on Wattpad

“So, I have something to tell you.”

Rylie stared at me with her baby blue eyes from over the top of her knees, clad in her fluffy unicorn pajamas. Biting her lip, she wrapped her arms around her legs, doing her best to look at innocent as possible. It was the same as when she told me she loved me for the first time. Same as when she told me about her parents. Same as any serious conversation.

I smiled the best reassuring smile I could. “Yes, Missus Thelpty?”

“Thelpty-Grey. Future Thelpty-Grey,” Rylie corrected with a grin. She played with her wavy brown hair, not so subtly flashing her tattoo. She always lied about the heptagram on her wrist and I never pushed. Despite how much she pretended, Rylie never liked talking about herself. She would let me know when she was ready. Probably curled up on the couch in unicorn pajamas, staring at me with innocent blue eyes.

“Yes, Missus Future Thelpty-Grey?”

“Kay, so, you know how I, like, love those weirdass horror-scifi books?”

“Which ones?” I teased. I knew which ones. I first met her in the bookstore when she was buried in them. The local shop received a collection of the old ones, and she bought all of them. Every copy, even multiple versions of the same ones. ‘In case there was a misprint,’ she later told me. The author was prolific. For a normal person, it would have been an extraordinary purchase.

But that was Rylie. She won the lottery twice and was set for life.

The horror-scifi clashed with the fluffy unicorn pajamas, but that was Rylie. Half magical horse, half spooky space thing, entirely lovable. I guess that was part of why I liked her so much. She knew what it was like to live with a split life.

“The ones by Crofte.” Rylie’s smile didn’t slip, but her tone shifted. She looked past me, taking a deep breath. This was way more intense than the first ‘I love you.’

Not as intense as her proposal.

“Ah, yes. The spooky ones.”

“The spooky ones,” Rylie agreed. “Well, I’m part of a group. The Val Crofte Literature Club.”

I was well aware of the VCLC. Rylie received a box filled with new books from them every month, marked by seven circles. She told me they represented the seven classical planets in Crofte’s work. Rylie talked about them a lot. For Crofte-heads, a name Rylie used to refer to the group once, which I would never let her forget, the classical planets were the key to understanding the meta-story.

It also had something to do with alchemy. I had a hard time getting into them. They hurt my brain. I had no clue how one man wrote so much.

“Yeah, your nerd group.”

“They’re not nerds! Well, not all of them.” Rylie stretched, again flashing the heptagram. “It’s not just about the books. It’s about the meta-story. We, uh… we…”

Rylie struggled to get the words out. A nervous blush spread across her face.

I took her hand, careful to avoid the tattoo on her wrist. I never told her, since it was impossible to explain, but the design was unpleasant. Every time I touched it, even the slightest brush, it burned. Like a hot stove, but through my whole body and prickly. “It’s okay, Rylie. You can just admit to being a nerd. We’re engaged. I know this now.”

“There’s more to it, Aaron.” Rylie bit her lip, still uncertain. Then, a serious expression suddenly took her face. Not the way the faceless steal faces in the Crofte books. She simply decided to be straightforward. “The VCLC believes that the books aren’t just stories.”

“They’re damn good ones!”

Rylie didn’t laugh. That hurt a little. “They - we believe that Val Crofte is trying to warn us about creatures. Monsters. Eldritch beings.”

My heart thumped. Did she know?

“Val Crofte isn’t one person. The members of the VCLC embed codes in the books whenever we learn something new. Some of us are trained to hunt these things.” Rylie paused, looking sadly at her hand which I no longer held. I hadn’t realized I’d been retreating. But it was starting to make sense now. “Not me, of course. I’m a researcher for the VCLC. I study the codes, sort out the truth from fiction, then pass it along to the hunters. They’re usually about lesser beings. Mimics. Vampires. That sort of stuff.”

A weight was lifted off my chest.

“Some of them are about great ones.”

And put right back on.

“The VCLC has had a few names. We were inspired by Lovecraft. The name too.” Rylie’s excitedness took over as she continued her tale. She stood, pacing in front of the couch now. My eyes were focused on the seven-pointed star on her wrist. How it moved with the way her hands tensed. “There’s been so many stories, Aaron. We’re dedicated to stopping evil, great and small. And now… now there’s rumours, Aaron. Rumors of something big. The kind of monster that could destroy the world.”

Rylie paused, impressing the dramatic weight of this realization with her blue eyes and gestures. “A real Lovecraftian nightmare, Aaron.”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Is that tattoo VCLC?”

Rylie looked shocked, as though pulled from a dream. She held her wrist out to me. “This? Yeah. Ish. The members of VCLC get a tattoo on their wrist so we can recognize each other. But it’s also a sigil of protection. In Crofte’s books, it’s a symbol of power. It shows control over all of the elements. And all of the planets. The classical planets. They’re-”

“The ones that count,” I finished. That was something Rylie said a lot. It was a popular phrase among the books’ protagonists.

With a laugh, Rylie sat down next to me, snuggling close and wrapping her arms around me. “They are actually good books too. I was a fan of Val Crofte before I even knew about the VCLC. And not all of our members are full members. Some of them are just fans. You should give them a shot.”

“I will,” I lied. At least now I knew why the books hurt to read. It wasn’t just poor worldbuilding.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” Rylie asked, staring with her innocent blue eyes. Eyes that concealed secrets all too well. I gave her my best reassuring grin.

“No, Rylie, I don’t. I love you. I know you’re telling the truth.” I sighed. It was my turn to share. “In another life, I was called Thorn. Thorn A. Laytep.”

I took a deep breath. In a thousand lifetimes, I never told anyone this secret. But it was time.

“Before then, I was known as Nyarlathotep.”

<<>>

“Before then,” Aaron said slowly. His lips were pulled tight, replacing his usual smile with something stern. He was like that sometimes. Aaron liked to joke, to laugh, play. He brought out my childish side. That was what I loved about him. Then, rarely, he was serious. I loved that too. I could tell him things - important things - and he’d meet me with the same sincerity. “I was known as Nyarlathotep.”

My heart thumped. The name alone made my tongue numb and he said it with ease.

I laughed, pulling him tighter. He got me. “Nice.”

“I’m not joking, Rylie,” Aaron said. “I am… I was Nyarlathotep.”

“I know.”

Aaron stopped fiddling with the drawstring on his sweatpants. I tried many times to get him better sleepwear, even getting him more boyish pajamas, since he didn’t like my totally cool unicorns. He never wore them. I wasn’t upset, though. Aaron liked what Aaron liked. I loved that about him.

Aaron liked grey sweatpants and octopus shirts. “You know?”

“Well, like, I didn’t til you told me. But I know you’re not joking, Aaron.” Aaron Thelpty. Oh my god, I was such a dumbass. Seven years of piecing together puzzles for the VCLC and I never cracked the one that kissed me awake every day for the last three. I laughed again. “You really like anagrams.”

Aaron smiled. He had a nice smile. I loved that about him too. “That I do, Missus Future Thelpty-Grey.”

My heart hurt again as the feeling of guilt shot through me. I’d been with Aaron for so long now. We met when I was doing research on a local cult for one of our hunters and I just felt pulled to him. The same way Argent was pulled to the moon when she first arrived on earth. A connection that transcended the physical form and joined them in the spirit. With that first connection, Argent was soulbound to her element.

They were really good books. I wished Aaron would actually read them.

“If there is a future Missus Thelpty,” Aaron said quietly. His brown eyes were wet and he bowed his shaved head. In my initiation to the VCLC, they asked me to read - not recite, they were clear about that - read some magic text. My eyes burned. My blood boiled. It felt like my body was trying to tear itself apart from the inside out.

They later explained that the test was to see if I had any latent magic ability. I didn’t. But I still wanted to join the VCLC and contribute to the metanarrative. So they let me be a researcher.

Aaron’s sad look hurt worse.

“You said you were Nyarlathotep-” a figurative bee stung my literal tongue - “Gnarly-thep in another life. What does that mean?”

Aaron sighed again, moving away from me. 

“I was beaten. A group of kids figured out how to stop me, at least for a little bit, and Nyarlathotep was defeated. Well, banished,” Aaron said sheepishly, “for a thousand years. Then he- I came back as Thorn. Thorn was angry. He wanted to get revenge on the kids who beat him before, but they were gone. So he lashed out.”

“Like Aurum,” I whispered.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You haven’t met him yet,” I told Aaron excitedly. “He’s Argent’s… He’s related to Argent, soulbound to the sun. He’s all about the heart and lavish things, but he has, like, a bit of an anger issue.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said with a soft laugh, watching me walk around our living room. “Like Aurum.”

I hadn’t realized I was pacing. Val Crofte’s books got me so excited. It was definitely the excellent world building. I carefully readjusted the painting of the eclipse I had commissioned and sat back down next to Aaron. “Sorry, go on.”

“I… We? Thorn realized he wasn’t as strong as Nyarlathotep. He was a little superhuman but he wasn’t a powerful space being. He was just a strong man with a little bit of magic.” Aaron paused, reluctant to finish his story. I encouraged him with the sweetest look I could muster. He told me once that he could never resist my smile. I loved that about him. I didn’t tell him I had the same problem. “Thorn got himself in some trouble in the Americas. He didn’t live past the twenties.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Aaron quickly said. “I don’t consider Thorn part of me. I don’t even consider Nyarlathotep part of me. I have memories of them. Vague memories. But I don’t have any powers. I definitely am not an eldritch monster. At least not any more. Whatever I used to be, I’m not anymore.”

I searched his face, looking for any sign that he was lying. The VCLC texts warned that Nyarla… Aaron’s alter-ego a master of deceit. Supposedly, he delighted in pain and trickery. But those were just stories shared by strangers. Research from unconfirmed sources. Some members claimed that garlic could outright kill a vampire, but it rarely did more than give them a stomach ache.

The VCLC wasn’t always right. They were just a bunch of nerd books.

“Aaron Thelpty,” I said, tracing the Sigil of Seven on my wrist. It was meant for protection from physical and spiritual harm. But I traced it whenever I needed to feel brave. “There are thousands of stars in the sky. There are hundreds of worlds. They all have their theories. Their rules. But what they think doesn’t matter. What they say doesn’t matter. Because, despite the trillions of lives on those worlds and between those stars, only one matters to me. You. We are soulbound. There is nothing that can break that bond. I’m here for you, Aaron. I’m here for you.”

Aaron gave me the most confused stare I’d ever seen from a thousand-year-old being. “What?”

“It’s from the books. It’s what Luna tells Argent in The Rise of Neptune. It means, I love you. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what the VCLC says about you or your followers.” I took Aaron’s hand, squeezing gently, and looked him straight in the eyes. His soft brown eyes welled with tears. Not the painful ones that made me want to peel my skin, but the ones that made me want to wrap him in my arms and kiss him.

“I love you, Mister Future Thelpty-Grey.”

[alisnmoon]

WINTER TASK + SELF PARA : : But. But!  

Who : : Carmichael Davis, Allister Davis, and Gigi Brandt

Location : : Scotland and wherever Gigi is 

Timeline : : December 24th, 2020 to December 27th, 2020

Word Count : : More than three

“ But. But! “ Premise : : Carmichael Davis goes back to Scotland to spend break with his younger brother Allister Davis while their uncle Montgomery Davis is still undergoing physical therapy. Their time together starts off nice and the two catch up, sharing details that have happened during the months they spent apart. However, due to the careless words said by Allister Davis, an argument and physical fight breaks out between the two. Carmichael Davis then calls Gigi Brandt as he leaves Scotland, heading back to Gallagher earlier than he expected. tw: death mention and violence

This is strange, the feeling of lost. While Cyrus wasn’t his friend or anyone close to him, he was still a fellow student. He’s heard of the deaths during the spring semester and over summer break, how the students just expect for someone to lose their life while attending Gallagher. Death shouldn’t be the norm, not while you’re in school, that’s what he thinks. Out in the field, actually working as an agent, death is something you prepare yourself for. But as a student who’s simply learning? You should be safe and feel safe while at school.

“They’re traumatized,” he says to himself, staring outside of his cab window. “Normal students wouldn’t think like that, agents in training or not.”

He feels bad for them, the Gallagher students, but he would never say that out loud. The others would only look at him strangely, think that he’s gone soft. Honestly, he’s sure that they already see him as soft, weak even because of his relationship with Gigi. Which he guesses is fair, maybe he is soft but what’s wrong with that. Not like he’s the only one in relationship with someone or even keeps another person close to them.

Maybe they’re all soft and none of them wanted to admit it? Who even cares at this point.

His cab comes to a stop, the driver telling him that they arrive at his stop. Stepping out of it, he thanks the other as he drives away, before he turns to look at his surroundings. North Berwick, still the same small town that he’s grown up in. With the same neighbors, homes, and barking dogs. And that very similar dark red, two story house whos ground plan he memorized. Of course he did, it’s his home after all.

Unlocking the door and walking inside, Carmichael is met with an abnormally quiet house. “I thought he was going to be here,” he says to himself, closing the door behind him. “I guess I was wro—“

His words fall short, as he hears someone say “ ow “ farther into the house. Tilting his head to the side, he goes to where the voice came from, careful steps taking him to the kitchen. There, he sees an all too familiar back, one similar to his own. “Allister?” He calls out, the other’s actions pausing before he turns around. In that moment, Carmichael is met with a face that mirrors his own. With the same long brown hair and deep blue eyes filled with curiosity and fire. Eyes and smile that instantly lit up at the sight of the older boy.

“Carmie, you’re home!” And in a flash, the younger of the two throws his arms around his brother, bringing him in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Carmichael doesn’t hesitate to hug him back, pulling him in tightly. When was the last time they were able to hug like this, July maybe? He misses it, his brother, breathing and able to walk on his own. Alive and well.

Allister is the first one to pull away, a wide grin on his face as he looks over his older brother. “Look at you! You look good— wow, I can’t believe you look better in that shirt than I do.”

He laughs gently at that, shaking his head at the others words. “No way, I can’t pull off your clothes like you do,” Carmichael assures him. “Your crop tops? Still can’t do them, I feel weird in them.”

“That’s just your inner toxic masculinity talking! You’ll get used to them in no time.”

“This is coming from the straight twin, I see…”

“Why you…”

Jabs and nudges, loud laughter, smiles, eyes that shine brightly, and an instant connection that the two missed. The Davis brothers are back together and nothing could top that moment of serotonin for them. “Come on, I’ll help you unpack! We can talk while we do so, oh, tell me all about Gallagher.”

“I’ve already told you everything—“

“Yeah, in our chat and over the phone but it’s not the same! I want to hear you talk about in real time, to see your reactions about everything,” Allister says, already taking the lead to the stairs. “Come on, I need something that isn’t hospital gossip.”

“There’s such a thing as hospital gossip?”

“Yes and it’s terrible. I mean, it’s interesting but only for so long.” A dramatic sigh leaves his lips just as Carmichael just rolls his eyes. “Now come on, tell me everything!”

So he does exactly that, tells Allister everything. About his progress when it comes to the mission, to the people he’s met, to working with the other agents, and also his classes. Allister listens carefully as he pulls out shirts and pants from the suitcase, creating a separate pile for dirty and clean. He’s focused, not just on the task at hand but also the words leaving his older brother’s mouth. Carmichael knows that he’s storing each information quietly into little mental drawers in his head. For someone so destructive and disorganized, he’s somehow good at what he does. Carmichael wishes that he was like that too.

“So Cecilia knows, about us?” Allister asks as his brother nodded his head. “Oh boy, this doesn’t sound too good for me. I bet she’s extremely angry.”

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.” Though, Carmichael takes most of that anger is at Allister than him. Well, actually at both of the Davis twins. “She said that she won’t tell Eva and Cole, so it’ll be a secret between us.”

A moment of silence as Allister picks up the dirty pile and places it into a hamper. “Trust her, Cecilia isn’t the type to break a promise like that,” he says, talking as if he and the younger Casragi are close. “If she told that she won’t, then believe her.”

“And what if she does?”

“Then kill her.”

His heart stops, eyes growing wide at the serious tone and expression that his brother is displaying. But only seconds later that the younger boy cracks, laughing hysterically. “I’m just kidding,” he says in between laughs. “If she tells then she tells, no need to go crazy over it.”

It’s a joke and he should laugh at it but he can’t bring himself to do so. He’s reminded of Suzume, the Japanese princess that pins him to the wall in one of the secret passageways. How she tells him that he tried to murder her years ago, that she could never forget his voice or accent. Of course, he doesn’t believe her, unable to even fathom that Allister Davis could even try to assassinate someone. But hearing his brother’s voice, seeing the look in his eyes and how serious he was, he almost believed it. Because that joke sounded too real, as if he’s already done this before.

And it scares Carmichael for a minute, that Suzume could be right. That his younger brother, the goofy and dumbass twin, had done it. But the thought doesn’t last for long as he shakes the idea away. He knows his brother, better than anyone else in the world. Carmichael knew everything about Allister, he trusts the younger boy. Why would he trust the words of some random girl?

“Just hope that you’re able to get into the school’s system before the two find out your true identity. Don’t want them screwing up your name mid conversation.” Clearing his throat, Allister put on his best British accent, pretending to be Cole in that moment. “Oh hey, Carmichael there you— Oh, bloody hell, I meant Allister not Carmichael. Let’s hope that no one else heard that.”

He laughs then but it’s softer and not as strong. Almost forced. Worry clouds his senses. Worry, doubt, questioning, all of it. He wants to ask his brother about it but he couldn’t figure out how to say it. So he leaves it out, the information about Suzume and his failed assissnation. He’ll do some research on it later, whenever he gets the chance.

“Are you hungry? Because I am.” Carmichael stands to his feet. “Let’s go out into the town, yeah?”

“Yes, of course, you don’t have to ask me twice!”

. . .

The rest of the day is spent looking around their small town like old times. Talking to their neighbors, going to the grocery store together, and then eating out. Despite his own tiredness and desire to just rest, Carmichael remains awake, enjoying his time with his brother.

He doesn’t say it but seeing others at Gallagher with their siblings, especially twins, made him miss Allister even more. It’s like the old times again, where they’re inseparable, glued to the hip like when they were children. One of the locals even made a comment about that. “Haven’t you boys tried to spend anytime apart?” The twins gave each other a look, trying their hardest not to snicker loudly.

If only he knew.

Carmichael took notice of how his brother was walking that night. How the other walked with more care and slower than usual. He would take his time, sometimes even falling behind the other, to where Carmichael had to slow down for him.

Oh, how much have changed since the accident.

When they finally arrived back home, a movie was put on in attempt to watch it. But Carmichael ends up falling asleep on the couch after ten minutes. By the time he does wake up, it was when the TV was shut off and a blanket was placed over him.

The next morning rolls around, being the start of Christmas day. Gifts are exchanged between the two boys, Allister going first as he pulls out a large bag. “I swear to God, Al, if it’s something weird—“

“It’s not, I promise! You’re going to love it!”

He’s not too sure about that but doesn’t say anything else. Pulling apart the wrapping paper and then opening the box, his movements come to a pause at what’s inside. “You got me… a skateboard.”

“Not just any skateboard, a signed skateboard! And it’s custom made with your virus logo on it, turn it over.”

Pulling it out of the box completely, he turns the skateboard over to see what his brother is referring to. And right there, he’s met with the logo that he created at the age of ten. It’s a creepy smiley face with drips leaking from it’s mouth, eyes, and the bottom of its face. Right above it is Sam Beckett’s signature. “H-how did you get this?”

Allister shrugs his shoulder, obviously proud of his purchase. “Oh, you know. I just reached out to my best friend Sam and he signed it with no problem.”

Carmichael smiles. “Thank you, Al, I really appreciate it.” Putting the skateboard to the side, he then pulled out his gift for his brother. “Here’s yours, hopefully you’ll like it.”

“I’ll love anything you get me.” Beat. “Unless it’s clothes, I would kindly ask you to return them. Sorry, Carmie, I just can’t trust you when it comes to— Oh.”

It’s in the middle of his rambling that he sees the gift. A beautifully painted picture of Allister and Carmichael Davis, from when they were fifteen. One of their best pictures where the two boys had shoved cake into each other’s face, angry with each other over something stupid. But seeing how ridiculous they both looked, the boys laughed loudly, their anger instantly disappearing. Without their knowing, Montgomery had snapped a picture of that moment.

It became one of Carmichael’s favorite pictures with his brother.

“How did you—“

“Let’s just say that I know an artist.”

The two laugh at their words, gifts are put away, clothes are put on, and they’re both out the door. There’s one member of their family that they’re missing so of course they have to go see him.

“Oh, you got a text,” Allister says, phone in his hand as Carmichael drives them to the hospital out of town. “From Gigi, oh, your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Allister says, smirking. “She’s my girlfriend, thanks for reminding me.”

He doesn’t like that either, frowning slightly at his brother’s words. “Whatever. What did she send?”

“Just a generic Merry Christmas text and her saying thanks for the gift— what did you get her?”

“Just jewelry, nothing much.”

But it was much to him. Gigi was his first friend from Gallagher and someone who he cared for deeply. He still remembered how she tried to help him find his earring, how serious she was that day. Because of that moment, and many others, he got her earrings. Very small and simple, he was sure that she would throw it out after one use.

Carmichael wants to offer the idea that him and Allister have. Where one wears one earring and the other wears the second one. Though, he realizes how that might be too much for a relationship that wasn’t even real, so he went against it. Swallowing that idea into the depth of his mind.

“I told her Merry Christmas and that she’s welcome,” Allister says. “Anything else you would like me to send, Mr. Boyfriend?”

“Al, shut up!” But the younger of the two doesn’t, he’s laughing loudly at his brother’s reaction. It was not that funny, goodness.

Time goes on until they’re at the hospital and are able to see Montgomery. Carmichael gives him his gift, which is a painted picture of Montgomery with Eleanor when she was still alive. The two were so young and proud, even despite their living conditions. It’s definitely one of Carmichael’s favorite pictures of the duo, so it’s no wonder that he gets it painted. Allister gives him a gift too though Montgomery doesn’t like it too much. But it doesn’t matter too much, as long as they’re all safe and soft.

The rest of Christmas becomes just him cooking as Allister cleans. Time is set to the side to FaceTime Gigi and letting her talk to Allister pretending to be Carmichael Davis. It’s strange, being here to watch his brother pretend to be him. So used to seeing it over the phone, this is completely different. It makes him feel nauseous for a bit that he’s glad that he’s able to take the phone from the other and go to his room.

He almost makes the mistake of going into the room belonging to Carmichael Davis, that he remembers to go to the one belonging to Allister Davis. There he talks to the other for a bit, just sharing details about their winter breaks and Christmas gifts that they got. He thanks her for his gift ( whatever the fuck it is ) and she thanks him for hers.

He’s happy right then and there. But the happiness doesn’t last long as his brother knocks on his door, asking if they can talk. So he hangs up on Gigi, telling her that she’s more than welcome to call him later whenever she wanted.

“What’s up?” Carmichael asks, throwing the phone onto the bed.

“We never got to talk about the mission in full,” Allister says, putting on a serious demeanor. “Has Mr. Stewart given you further instructions?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.” He goes into his book bag, pulling out the letter that he received just before leaving Gallagher. Giving it to Allister, he watches as the other carefully reads over the letter. “My mission is still the same, nothing about it has changed.”

“I guess that’s a good thing…” Allister says, handing the letter back to him. “I wouldn’t expect him to give us a new direction, it would be pointless. We’re the only hackers on the team, it wouldn’t make any sense for him to do that.”

Carmichael doesn’t let the pronouns that his brother uses go over his head, how the other made this about them. About Agent A/C instead of Agent Carmichael. “I know but I’ll be able to get through it, just trust me.”

“I’m not sure about that.” He raises an eyebrow, watching as Allister crosses his arm over his chest and closes his eyes, deep in thought. “If you couldn’t get through the system this semester then who knows if you’ll be able to in the spring.”

His jaw tightens at that. “You don’t think I’m capable enough to do this?”

“Honestly? I don’t,” Allister says. “Which there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just more difficult than either of us were expecting. I should be able to get through, don’t worry.”

“Oh wow, thanks,” Carmichael says, frowning deeply at this point. His mind was reeling and heart is racing as the words fall from his mouth. “Happy to know that you actually believe in me.”

“I do believe in you but—“

“But. But!” Carmichael’s voice is raising, catching both him and Allister off guard. “But he says! But as in he’s going to disregard his previous message about me. But! But what, Allister?”

The other boy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you don’t believe in me,” he continues. “You don’t believe that I can do this.”

“I do believe in you—“

“But you said but! That means you don’t!”

“No, I do believe—“

“But—“

“I—“

“But—“

“Carmichael—“

“But—“

“Would you shut the fuck up and let me talk!”

It was a game, a power struggle between the two of them, as they try to one up the other person the entire time. Their anger showing in their expressions and voices. Carmichael wants to feel silly for letting his emotions get the best of him, to break away and apologize but he cant. Because these are emotions and thoughts that have been sticking with him for months now. Of feeling unworthy, unwanted, incapable, and more when compared to his brother. So to have the other say that, he cuts him deeply. Deeper than anything else.

“God, what’s gotten into you? Why are you angry at me?”

“Because you think that you’re better than me,” Carmichael says, getting into the other’s personal bubble. “You don’t think that I can do this like you, that I’m going to fuck this mission up.”

“I never said that—“

“You implied it! You implied that I would mess up and get us all caught—“

“God, Carmichael, now you’re just putting words into my fucking mouth. I did not imply that or anything.” He can see it, the passion in the others eyes, the fire that burns brightly and violently. Of how hot it was and how it could easily consume him. He should’ve stepped back, not test the other anymore than he was but he doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing because he’s a fucking idiot.

“You did imply it, that’s why you want to switch back.” Something he does not want to happen. “Because you just know that you can wrap this mission up faster than anyone else. Way faster than me apparently. Admit it, that you think that you’re better than me.”

“No, I won’t—“

“Admit it—“

“Carmie—“

“Admit it!”

“Car—“

“Admit—“

“Okay, fucking fine, yes I think that I’m better than you. No, I know that I’m better than you,” Allister says, giving into his own rage and chaos. “It’s not like you were put onto this mission in the first place. Mr. Stewart put me in, not. This is my mission so yeah, I should be the one to go back and finish it.”

There it is. He switches from “ our “ to just “ my “, of course he would. Because it’s their mission when it’s Carmichael out there but it’s only his mission when Allister is the one out there. “Are you happy now?” Allister says, voice lowering just as quickly as his change into the rage and chaos. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

It is but at the same it isn’t, he’s not sure anymore. He’s silent, eyes hard and cold as Allister just sighs deeply before putting on a smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “Look, I’m sorry for saying all of that and I do believe in you. It’s just… Mr. Stewart did give me this mission because he knows that I can do this so that’s why I’m acting like this, that’s all.” He reaches for the others' hands, squeezing them gently. “Now come on, let’s go downstairs and start cooking, I’m starving.”

He tries to pull Carmichael to the door but the other doesn’t try to budge. So grounded and feet rooted into the ground, he doesn’t want to go anywhere. There’s a numb and hollow feeling in his chest that he hates it here. The numbness travels throughout his body, controlling each part of him. Mouth included as words that he’s been trying to keep to himself fall out.

“Is it true that you tried to assassinate Suzume Minamoto?”

Allister goes still and tense, his grip around Carmichael’s wrist going limp. “How do you know that name?”

He doesn’t mean to say it, he wanted to figure it out for himself and to see if it’s actually true or not that. But the words are already out of his mouth and there’s no going back. Especially when Allister doesn’t try to deny it. “So is it true?”

“Carmichael,” he says, disregarding the other’s question. “How the fuck do you know that name?”

“S-she’s a student at Gallagher,” Carmichael says, pulling his wrist away from the other. “I met her, well, apparently she said that we already knew each other. That she could never forget my face or my accent, even said my full name without me introducing myself. Well, she said your name, Allister Davis.” It has a bitter taste to it. “So answer me, is it true that you tried to assassinate her?”

The look is back, the one from earlier when he joked about murdering Cecilia. “It’s true,” he says. “Emphasis on ‘ tried ‘ since obviously she’s walking around still. More of a reason why I should go to Gallagher so I can finish the job, or maybe I should notify her father about this.”

“Are you fucking serious right?” Carmichael shouts, obviously appalled at the others' words. “You want to go back to assassinate her again? Are you fucking crazy?”

“She knows who I am, Carmichael! We have to get rid of her so she doesn’t get in the way of the mission.”

“No, we can’t do that. One has already died, Allister, they’re undergoing an investigation right now. If you murder her then you’ll only make the situation worse for the team.”

“Minamoto walking about, alive and well, will make the situation worse, trust me,” Allister says, the wheels in his head turning. “I need to get rid of her—“

“Stop talking like you’re a fucking assassin, Allister.” His chest is tight and he feels nauseous because of this. “We’re agents, double agents to be specific. We don’t murder people—“

“I’ll do anything for Caledonia.”

And he grows silent, no words able to fall out. “Do you want to know the difference between us?” Allister continues. “The reason why Montgomery comes to me for missions is simple: they come to me because I’m not afraid to die. I’m not like you, a boy who fears death. I’m the boy that death fears.

“That’s what makes me a better agent and so loyal to Caledonia because I’ll put my life on the line for it. That’s why I’m the better agent because of—“

He punches him, right in the mouth with no sort of hesitation. Allister falls to the ground, not expecting it, before his eyes cloud over with anger.

The commence the fighting that breaks out. The two boys throwing and punching at each other. Allister is still weak but puts up a fight. It’s Carmichael who gets the most punches in and wins, throwing his brother down to the ground one last time. They’re both breathing heavily, eyes watching each other before Carmichael walks out of the room, going straight for his own.

. . .

He doesn’t sleep that night, he can’t actually. Instead, he’s packing his bag again, just putting random clothes into it, not even caring to figure out which belonged to Allister Davis and what belonged to Carmichael Davis. He just throws it into the suitcase before wheeling it downstairs. He found a plane ticket to head back to the states at the last minute, it cost him a lot of money but he didn’t care. He needed to get out of this fucking house.

Once downstairs, he pulls out his phone and calls Gigi because honestly, he just needs to talk to someone. And the main person he usually reaches out to is the one he’s pissed at.

“Hey babe,” she says once she answers. “What’s up? Why are you calling me so late?”

“Just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving Scotland early,” Carmichael tells her, looking out the living room window to see if his ride is waiting for him. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“What, why? Did something happen?”

Hands run through his hair, groaning softly. “I just… I got into a huge fight with… Carmie. A really bad fight where we both said some hurtful things about each other. Don’t really feel comfortable with staying here anymore.”

“Are you serious right now? Do you want me to go after him for you? Because you know I can and will.”

He laughs gently at her words, grateful that she wants to fight in his honor. Though, he’s not sure if he likes it that she wants to fight ‘ Carmichael Davis ‘. “No, it’s alright, seriously,” he tells her. “I kinda already did that already….”

“OMG, you fought your brother? Like, a physical fight?”

“Why do you sound so surprise—“

“I don’t know, you just don’t seem like the type to hurt someone! I just see you as that weak computer nerd—“

Their conversation over the next few minutes revolves around the two of them joking and poking fun at each other. It’s something he needed to pull his mind away from his argument with Allister and he’s glad that Gigi doesn’t ask him about it, though, he knows that she will once they’re back on campus. And it’s not like he can open up to her about it, about the real reason why he fought with his brother. He would just have to come up with a lie until then.

“My ride’s outside,” Carmichael says to her, sitting up from the couch. “I’ll text you when I get to Gallagher.”

“Okay,” Gigi says. “You know, if you want, I can meet you there too—“

“No, enjoy your break, I know that you’ve been looking forward to this. I’ll just see you when you get back,” he tells her. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” A beat before she continues. “Hey Allister?”

“Hm?”

“I’m here for you, you know that right?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just blinking a few times before smiling widely. Not an Allister Davis smile but a genuine Carmichael Davis smile, one that he doesn’t display that often. “I know,” he says. “And I’m here for you, Gigi.”

The two hang up and he grabs his luggage to leave the house. As he rounds the corner, he’s met with Allister standing in front of the door, giving the other a hard stare. The corner of his mouth is no longer bleeding which is good, he guesses. “You’re leaving.” It’s a statement not a question.

“Obviously enough since I’m not welcomed here.”

Allister opens his mouth, ready to say something to make it worse but stops himself. Instead, he just unlocks and opens the door. “Then leave,” he says. “And remember this Carmichael. You’re on your own from this point on. If you fuck up, it’s on you so good luck with my mission.”

Carmichael shoves the other out of his way, walking out of the door and to the car waiting for him. No byes or love you’s are said, the two boys just leave each other on a bad note. The door is slammed shut and the car pulls away, neither one of them looking back at the other.

And in this moment in the car, away from his brother and Gigi, it’s when he finally brings himself to think about what happened. How his own insecurities got the best of him, pouring and spilling before his brother, prompting the other to admit that he was better. Just because Carmichael Davis is weak, constantly pushing himself down as he compares himself to his brother. No one else is comparing the two, other than him!

But it doesn’t excuse how others genuinely like the other more and trust him with things. From Montgomery and Mr. Stewart who gives Allister missions, ones where he basically puts his life on the line every time. How Gigi, Ting, and Cecilia like the personality belonging to Allister than his own. That even Cole and Eva likes this version of him more than anything else, that the two like Allister over Carmichael. Or maybe it’s his version of Allister that they like but either way, it’s Allister Davis over Carmichael Davis.

And he hates that so much.

Then final piece to this fucking puzzle is the fact that his brother tried to assassinate someone years ago. How he swore up and down that his brother would never, ever do such a thing. But there he was, standing there and admitting to his crime, not even ashamed of it. ‘ they come to me because i’m not afraid to die ‘, the words replay over and over in his head.

It feels as though he’s finally meeting his brother for the first time. He’s always sworn that he knew everything about Allister, that he knew every little secret and small fact about him. But this, right here and now? He feels like a stranger when it comes to his own twin brother. Nothing about him makes sense anymore, he’s not even sure if he can trust the fucking guidebook that the two of them made for each other. It’s probably filled with fucking lies too!

What more is the other hiding from him, he wants to know. He needs to know because what the fuck even is the point of no secrets between family? Between brothers, between twins? Because all of this is absolute—

A tear hits the back of his hand, pulling him away from his thoughts. He didn’t even know that he was crying, so out of it, so numb. And they don’t stop either, the tears continue to fall like a soft stream before pouring out. No matter how much he tries to wipe them away, they keep coming. He finally gives in, just letting the tears continue to fall and his head down, not wanting the driver to see him so vulnerable.

That’s how he feels, vulnerable. Weak, useless, incapable, insecure, dumb, unloved, broken, and so many more things.

So he cries and allows for those emotions to consume him. What else can he do? Nothing, nothing at all.

[valkyriesryde]

Release the Hounds {4/?}

Chapter Four: Seek the Truth

Pairing: Persephone!Steve x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: Hermes has lost a pair of winged shoes and Bucky is pretty sure where they’ve flown off to and he’s not happy about it.

Word Count: 3,500ish whoops

A/N: Soooo got a bit carried away sorry guys, just wanted the new chapter after I had a bit of a break to make up for my absence. My country has opened up locally so I’ve been pretty busy because of it but it’s okay I’m still here and I’m still in love with these fuckwits ENJOY

Series Masterlist ~ Masterlist

Demeter appeared to almost float as she walked. The power she possessed did not cause fear to those that she passed, it wasn’t like when Artemis went on a hunt or when Athena walked in full armour. It was quiet and poised, it trailed behind her like the train of her dress. She was fertility and the harvest, those that saw her were enamoured by her beauty and strength that was so evident in her body from all the years of farming. This was why no one wanted to be the subject of her wrath, because she was not afraid to deal with problems herself.

Demeter was beginning to boil over though as she stormed into Bucky’s office and stared at him until he finished typing and looked up with a beaming smile, enough to brighten almost anyone’s day...almost.

“Good morn-”

“Have you seen Steve, Apollo?” Bucky rolled his eyes as she said his name and in the back of his mind cursed Steve for leaving before his mother had gone to work. Dumbass.

“I sent him to the mortal world.”

“You what?!” Demeter, ever protective of her golden child, if only she knew, Bucky thought. If only she knew how much of a pain in the ass he really was. That punk owes me for lying to his own damn mother.

“I needed some things, you know like those puddings that the bakers just can’t get quite right here in Olympus,” he looked off into the distance as he thought about the baked goods of the mortal world and swore he would make Steve buy him a whole bakery for lying to Demeter. “I, of course can’t go down there willy nilly so he offered to go for me this morning, he wanted to get in before the rush. Surely you know how it is Demi.”

Demeter caught her tongue between her lips, pursed and poise, Bucky knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t, be mad at him. She wouldn’t want it going back to his father that she tried to bite off the sun god’s head.

“Well when you see him,” she spun on her heel, her train flying around her as she did, “tell him to come see me. We’ve business to attend to.” “You have my word.” He bowed his head but made no move to stand as she waited for him to get the door until huffing and walking out on her own. “That’s where they got the term helicopter mum from.” Bucky mumbled under his breath with a shake of his head and then let out a deep sigh and dropped his head to his desk. More mess to clean up.

Hermes had torn his room apart when Bucky walked in. Clothes were thrown across the room and hung over lamps and shelves. His bed had been flipped and his wardrobe was practically empty. And yet he kept pulling it apart, searching in every nook and cranny he could find but to no avail. He started freaking out about an hour ago and all hope was lost and colour drained from his face when he heard the door open and shut behind him.

“What the fuck happened here?”

Hermes let a very high pitched yelp and dived beneath one of the piles of clothes, “I’M SORRY I’LL FIND THEM I SWEAR!” He yelled.

“Find what?” Bucky asked as he stepped over a discarded pair of winged shoes. “Far out Peter it looks like you pissed off one of the wind nymphs! What happened here?!”

“Oh,” Peter popped his head up and once he had confirmed it was in fact Bucky standing before him he went back to his closest to continue searching. “I thought you were Thor…” a nervous laugh leaving his body as a grimace spread over his face. “How’s it going? Got a message for someone?”

“Peter, what have you lost?” Bucky crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the brunette's back.

“I wouldn’t say lost persay…” Peter shot up and his hands flew around him as he talked, a distraction that often helped him talk his way out of trouble. “I’d say misplaced more than anything really. I mean is anything really lost or are things just put somewhere and forgotten about? Who’s to say? Not me. Nor you! We’re not the gods of finding things are we?! You’re the sun god, patron of prophecy and healing,” Peter grabbed a lyre that was stuffed in the back of the wardrobe and turned to hold it up to Bucky, “and music!” He threw it over his shoulder and kept searching, at this rate he may as well start tearing up floor boards he’d searched top and bottom and still, no sign of them.

“And you’re a thief, what have you lost Hermes?” Bucky had his sneaky suspicions on what the ‘misplaced’ item could be but he prayed to Zeus that he was wrong. Peter froze and stood slowly. When he turned to face Bucky his face was covered in guilt and shame, the boy wore it like a mask, as if he’d been caught stealing from mum’s purse...or worse...his father’s.

“A pair of winged sandals...you haven’t seen any have you? I have uh,” he counted the ones spread across the floor, remembered to count the pair on his feet, the ones that had landed in the bookcase and the one left shoe that was floating in the corner of the ceiling. “Fourteen I have fourteen, but I SHOULD have fifteen. I seem to have misplaced a pair…”

Bucky looked around the room until his eyes landed on the small daffodil that poked out the side of Peter’s shoe shelf. “I think I have an inkling as to where they’ve flown off to. Care to take a trip down under with me?”

The gates of the Underworld were massive in size and daunting in appearance. A mix of obsidian and black metal twisted together to form the vines that covered it. The gate dripped with gold, Steve wasn’t sure if it was blood of gods who dared try to pass the gates or a warning to those who thought to try. He settled on the fact that it was probably a nod to Hades also being the patron of riches. Wanda guided him closer to the gates and as she neared they opened for her.

“Where are all the souls?” Steve asked, it was eerily quiet for the entrance to the Underworld, he figured it would be full of wandering souls but all he could see were the ports of the five rivers and the only souls being the ones who swam the rivers until their debt was paid.

“Thanatos looks after them once Charon brings them down, you thought they’d be waiting here?”

“Well it just makes sense?”

“Tell me Steve,” Wanda stopped in her steps at the edge of the gate, her hands on her hips.

Steve was beginning to make out the intricate details of the vines on the gate, the asphodel flowers that were engraved into the metal and rock, the daffodils that were spread amongst them, only a few in comparison. He thought he saw mint leaves, only visible when the light hit the gold and he could see the pattern on the leaves. Symbols of Hades, he thought, as he saw the white poplars across the top. All but the daffodils, they were one of his and the asphodel flowers weren’t anyones, though she did have a field named after it, maybe it was the other way around?

“Steve?” Wanda asked again and he looked away from the gate reluctantly. “Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry, what was it you said?” He’d have to remember to ask Hades about the gate’s decorations another time.

“Did you really think we’d just have thousands of roaming souls at the entrance? Lesson one flower boy, when no one respects you, always respect yourself.” She continued walking through the gates and Steve followed quickly.

“What does that have to do with not keeping the waiting souls at the entrance?” he asked, wishing he’d brought something to write with.

“The twelve gods care about their appearance, am I wrong?”

“No, of course they do, people look up to them.”

“Exactly, they’re respected. They have to look the part, if they didn’t people would lose respect for them. The Underworld, Hades, we’re not respected. The gods, the nymphs and even some satyrs look down on us, they have no respect, we could be seen in rags and their opinions on us wouldn’t change.”

Wanda hated having to be the one to tell him about her home, it left a bitter taste in her mouth as she talked about how others viewed her home and her family. It wasn’t fair. But Hades had told her it had to be her first.

“We respect ourselves, our realm and our queen. We dress and we present ourselves how we see ourselves.” She flattened out her cloak and pulled her fingers through her auburn waves.

“Powerful?” Steve asked, it was the first word that came to mind when he looked at Wanda, she stood tall, proud of who she was and not one you would want to cross. She appeared as if she held power others wished they had.

“Amongst other things. To have lost souls, those waiting for judgement, hanging about the gates would contradict how we see this place, we aren’t a mess, there’s no lack of organisation or authority here Steve. Hades has the final say, the souls go through the entrances to the sides where they rest in Asphodel if they possess no debt and await trial by the council. If they need to be moved they are, if not, they move deeper into Asphodel where they make themselves at home. Some find families, some wander alone. But they all have their place. They’re not just tossed at the gates of Hades.” She pointed towards the sides of the gates and Steve could just make out the faded souls passing through the open doors one at a time.

Some were weeping, some stone cold, some even looked slightly relieved. Wanda carefully studied Steve’s face as he watched them, she wondered how much he saw, through her eyes she could see them clear as day, she could tell you exactly what they were wearing and if they had freckles or scars on their skin. She wondered if he could make out their clothing, from the somber look on his face she figured he could, thought perhaps he could even see the expressions on their faces.

“What if they have debts?” He turned back to Wanda and she nodded towards the rivers.

“Styx, Lethe, Acheron, Phlegethon and Cocytus. Depending on how they died or what debt they owe they swim in the rivers for up to a thousand years.” She pulled at his sleeve, away from the ports and the moving souls towards a cavern along the edge of the river Styx.

Steve heard the scrapping of metal against the rock and when he turned back he saw the gates close behind them, the final decorations coming into view and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed them before. They’d been split down the middle when the gate was open but now you wouldn’t be able to tell there was any gap between them. A cornucopia, which was bursting with the flora that adorned the rest of the gate and golden coins. Around it’s edge were three horses, black with golden eyes and behind it, the length of the gate was a bident.

The weapon of Hades, it was subtler than Loki’s trident, had little details apart from three etched rings where the points joined the staff, one for each judge. Steve thought it beautiful and fitting for a queen who appeared to not need much. He thought of all the mortals that drowned in riches and surrounded themselves with possessions that showed off their wealth, he wondered what Hades thought of them, if she thought they were using their wealth right or if she despised their need to be and have the biggest and best.

“I thought you were taking me to Thanatos?” They rounded the corner into, what Steve now realised was a tunnel that went deeper into the outskirts of the Underworld.

“Hades may not think she belongs on the council but she’s wrong. We can’t convince her, we’ve tried for a millenia.” Wanda pulled a pouch from her belt and placed it in Steve’s hands, it was filled with trail mix and he looked at her questionably and began to hand it back to her. He knew the rule to never eat food from the house of Hades. “It’s mortal food, I swear to you.”

“What makes you think she’ll listen to me then?” Wanda smiled knowingly at his words, she knew Hades was already listening to him, he wouldn’t be still standing here if she weren’t.

“It’s time the old gods adapt.”

“You say old gods, you mean my mother though.” Steve picked at the trail mix and examined it closely, it appeared to be what she’d said, mortal food, safe to eat.

“She doesn’t have your best interest at heart, you know that right?”

“She’s always protected me, I don’t know why she hates Hades so much but she has her reasons for keeping her out of the council.” He didn’t know them but he knew she had reasons. She had to, she wouldn’t want Hades kept out for no reason! Steve was sure of it, he was...wasn’t he?

“Which you don’t agree with.” Wanda pointed out and Steve thought about it for a second. He couldn’t think of a reason why Hades shouldn’t be one the council. He couldn’t think of any reason for Demeter to even hate Hades as much as she did. He’d never heard of anything happening between them, just the talk of evil, death and the devil within that Demeter had always associated Hades with.

“No I don’t! I don’t know why, I’ve always been told the bad, the ugly and the dangerous of this place and here I am fighting for it’s ruler to have a seat!?” It came off more like a question than a statement and Steve didn’t like how unsure he was about it all. He didn’t know if what he was doing was the right thing. He didn’t want to make his mother angry but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t think it was right.

“You’re fighting for what you believe in.”

“I’m not completely sure why I believe in it, but I’ll keep fighting for her,” Steve peered over Wanda’s shoulder, through the gates towards the kingdom, to her home, to her.

“She deserves to have someone fight for her.” Wanda bowed her head slightly, she almost went to curtsey but scrunched her fingers around her coat. “Do not give up on her no matter how many times she pushes you away. Please fight for us. The Underworld is a dangerous place and I can’t protect you but do your own research, learn about this place and whatever you do, do not fear it. We don’t harm our own here.” And with that Wanda disappeared back through the gates. She left Steve on the edge of the cavern with his tattered winged sandals and pouch of trail mix in his hands to venture deeper into the Underworld beyond the kingdom.

“You’ve been here for a day, that’s enough, it’s time to come home.” Bucky stood over Steve who was sitting against a wall. His arms crossed and a scowl on his face, Bucky hated being the bad guy, this wasn’t him but when it came to Steve sometimes being the bad guy was what it took.

Peter was crouched by Steve’s feet pulling the singed sandals off of his feet with a huff and grumpling about how tattered and filthy they were. “These were my good sandals,” he pouted, brushing off some dirt.

“I’ll pay to have them cleaned Peter, I’m sorry.” Peter nodded and placed the sandals in his satchel with a mumbled thank you before Steve turned to Bucky, his voice harsher than it was to the boy. “It’s not enough, this place is immense. I've only just scratched the service, I haven’t even seen the fields yet.”

“Because they’re behind the gates Steve and YOU’RE NOT WELCOME THERE.” Bucky was fed up, he hated this place, the sun didn’t reach too many dark corners and it gave him the heebie jeebies just thinking about what creatures lurked the shadows that would like to eat a god. Not to mention the last time he’d spoken to Hades and she’d threatened to feed him to Cerberus.

“How am I meant to plead her case at the council if I’ve no actual knowledge of her and this place?” Steve stood from the wall and gestured to his surroundings, Bucky and Peter had found him deep inside the Tunnels of Aidoneus which snaked around the fields, he hadn’t yet found an exit into them.

“She doesn’t want you to plead her case, your mother will rip you to shreds if you plead her case, you’ll never see the light of day unless it’s to do your duties. Is that what you want?” Bucky’s chest felt heavier than normal, he really hated this place, he strength drained out of him slowly like a leaky faucet.

Everyone always seemed to be claiming they knew what was best for him, that they knew more than he did. Steve may be a young god, only around for a small amount of time compared to some of the others but he had some life experience. He wasn’t the child his mother treated him like, or the small defenceless kid that he was when Bucky first met him. He was one of the few that could step foot on mortal ground for long periods of time. By the lack of colour on Bucky’s face and the drooping of his shoulders, Steve thought perhaps he was more powerful than Bucky was, to be able to walk on mortal soil as well as Hades’ was unheard of unless you were invited like Hermes or resided here like Wanda. But Steve wasn’t either, yet he wasn’t weak like Bucky was becoming and he’d been here almost twenty four hours compared to Bucky’s twenty four minutes. After being treated after his fall Steve continued to heal, he was becoming stronger and by this point he was back to himself. But Bucky was quickly weakening.

“You won’t survive in the tunnels for long Steve,” his voice was soft now, he was tired, he just wanted to go home and bring Steve to Demeter’s door.

“I just need to find a way into the fields.” Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve could feel the judgment, he thought it stupid too, trying to break into Hades’ kingdom like the fool he was.

“Your mother asked about you”

“What did she-” The caught Steve’s attention, he’d almost forgotten about his mother and what’d she would do if she found out he was here.

“I covered for you, don’t worry. But you need to come back before she sends a search party looking for you. If she finds out you’re here,” Bucky let out a whistle and Steve picked up his jacket.

“I know. I’ll come back. Bucky, I’m not done here. There’s more to the Underworld than what we’re led to believe on Olympus.”

“And how would you know that? You’ve barely seen this place.” There was something in Steve’s eye that Bucky hadn’t seen before, he was determined, he believed what he was saying and for once it was his own opinion, not one he’d been told. Bucky’s blood ran cold at the thought of why it could be, why it was this that was breaking Steve away from Demeter’s hold so quickly. It was too soon though, he thought to himself as they exited the caves with the help of Peter. It’s not meant to happen this way.

“I’ve ventured somewhat, and I plan on coming back.” Steve puffed his chest as he stood on the steps of his home and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“If I could die you’d be the death of me god of spring.” He smirked and Steve beamed back, he knew his friend would always have his back, he hoped he’d have his vote.

The door opened slowly and a cold breeze made its way into the office. Thor stood behind his desk as he looked out towards Olympus. He watched his citizens go about their day, saw some of his own family amongst them as the door clicked shut.

“Hello Brother.” He watched the reflection, her black suit, the gold inside of her blazer reflecting off the sun as she placed the notebook on his desk and sat in her usual spot across from him. “Pleasant week?”

“Always Hades, yourself?” He turned and smiled at his sister, sitting in his own chair at his desk. “Shall we begin, there’s much to discuss.”

Capter Five: Stand Your Ground

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!

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[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 6) | The Boyz Imagine

Ep 6: in which Hyunjae’s mom sets him up.

he Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main Characters: Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz.

Genre: fluff, slice of life, comedy, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10 | EP 11

---------

“Tonight at six. Don’t be late.” 

“Ma,” Hyunjae lets out a tired sigh, ruffling his locks in the process, “I’m really not interested and I--”

“You’re almost thirty! You should be getting married by now!” 

“Ma, blind dates don’t help people get together. It’s just a lousy way for singles to mingle.” 

“Exactly why you should go.” 

“Ma.” 

“Please, Hyunjae? She’s such a good girl. I met her and her mother for tea yesterday and her mother seems so keen to get her daughter married off to an honourable man! Now, I don’t know about honourable, but you’re funny. Surely, you can charm her socks off?” 

“Ma look, I--” Hyunjae frowns upon realizing what his mother is saying, “hey, excuse me? I am so honorable! But anyway, that’s besides the point. I’m not interested--I said I’m not--Hello? HELLO?!” 

Pulling the phone away, he is faced with a blank screen. 

“OH MY GOD!” his nostrils flare, “she just hung up! ON ME!” 

“I can hear you just fine,” comes Juyeon’s mumble from his respective desk. 

Hyunjae swivels around with a look of growing horror at the fact that this time, there’s no getting out of the mess that his mother has just put him in, “I’m almost thirty, and my mother decides that it’s the greatest idea to set me up like I can’t get my life together. Can you believe that?! The outrage?!”

“You don’t have your life together,” Juyeon is quick to point out.

“Juyeon, I really don’t need your sass right now.” 

“So are you? Going to that blind date?” Juyeon asks, a smirk curving his lips upwards as Hyunjae lets out a loud, insufferable sigh like the world has collapsed onto his shoulders, “Do I have a choice?” 

“I guess you don’t.” 

“I guess I don’t.” 

-------

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

It’s only the first date and Hyunjae is already late. Not that he cares, not really. Except that this girl will probably go tattle to her mother about his tardiness, which will then prompt his own mother to give him another earful about not being the perfect gentleman that she has raised him to be. 

It is with that particular train of thought that he practically bursts through the cafe called ‘Yours Truly’. Truly boring, in his personal opinion. Trying his best to swallow mouthfuls of air, scanning the room and walking in until he notices a lone woman, seemingly bored and looking out of the window as though there are other things preoccupying her mind. 

He approaches reluctantly, “Er--Are you Do Sarang?” 

The woman’s face swivels to face him. He has to admit, right there and then, that she’s not all bad looking.

“Yes,” she says slowly, as if she’s gauging his personality, “you’re Lee Jaehyun?” 

He extends a hand, “call me Hyujae. That’s the name I go by, most of the time.” 

She nods, and he barely has time to settle himself into his seat when she tells him, “so what excuse do you want to tell your mother?”

He blinks at her, ‘huh?” 

“You can say I’m boring. I only read books as a hobby and I love baking in my spare time, except I burn the kitchen. You think that’s bad enough? Or maybe tell her I have bad breath or something,” she keeps up the stream of babble with so much gusto that he can barely keep up. His mind churns the words inside his head, before reality suddenly kicks in.

“Wait--” he raises a hand to stop her, “you mean, you’re trying to find ways to sabotage this?” 

“Of course I am. Why? Were you actually--” cupping her hand over her mouth then, her eyes widen in shock, “Oh no, were you actually genuinely interested? Oh my gosh, I am--”

“NO!” He hollers a little too loudly that causes a few glances to glare daggers in his direction. Flashing a guilty smile while scrunching his shoulders up, he lowers his voice and continues, “no, I mean of course I’m not interested in blind dating. I just--I wasn’t sure.” 

“Okay great. Just so that we’re on the same page.” 

“Er--Sure.” 

“Cool. What shall I say about you? That you sweat a lot? Or you have AIDS? Or--” 

“I do not have AIDS,” Hyunjae quickly rectifies. 

Sarang laughs. She does have a nice laugh, he thinks to himself as she says, “you don’t seem like the type to have AIDS.” “Just tell your mom that I’m too noisy and talk too much. Or that I--er-- that I’m just too quiet. Too bland. Boring. You don’t like that.” 

“Okay, deal.” 

“Deal,” it’s at this particular moment that his stomach growls, causing Sarang’s lips to curl up in amusement. Hyunjae bites the inside of his cheek as he tries to restrain his own grin. He looks down for a moment, before finally meeting her eyes once more. 

“So...since we’re already here. Do you want to grab lunch?” 

-------

“So how did your date go?” Mae asks. 

A few days have gone by since Hyunjae’s supposed blind date, much to Mae’s excitement. Considering that she had been one of the potential candidates that the former’s mother had already listed down, she was glad that Mrs. Lee is finally opening up her horizons and allowing more women to enter Hyunjae’s life. Not that he needs any help at all, considering that he’s always been a charmer with the ladies. 

To celebrate, she had all asked them to gather at the local snack they usually frequent -- a habit from their earlier college days that seemed to have stuck -- and had ordered an array of pork belly, raw beef and chicken strips for the occasion. Radishes and Kimchi plates littered their entire table and servings of raw pieces of lettuce were left still untouched as they waited impatiently for the meat to cook through. 

Hyunjae has also noticed how she tries her best to stay as far away as it’s physically possible from Kevin, and while it might not appear that the latter is ruffled by her actions, Hyunjae has known the said man for too long not to notice the flash of hurt flickering across his face.

“She’s actually really cool,” Hyunjae says upon realizing that he still hasn’t answered her question, “she isn’t interested in blind dating either. So we’re both just finding excuses to please the mothers.” 

“Wait, but--” Juyeon frowns, “you just said she’s cool. Why not just hang out with her?” “Because that would just mean that my mother was right, and I’m not giving her the satisfaction.” 

“What an idiot,” Juyeon mutters behind his glass of soju and Hyunjae scowls at him, “piss off, lover boy.” 

“Alright alright, everybody calm down. I have meat,” Mae interrupts them by placing the grilled pieces onto their plates. As she does so, her arm brushes against Kevin’s shoulder, and she jumps back as though she just got burnt. 

“S-Sorry,” she mumbles out. It doesn’t take an expert to notice the fact that she’s blushing. 

Hyunjae clears his throat as a way to distract them from the sudden atmosphere, sending Kevin a pointed look across the table while a mindless Juyeon digs in without hesitation.

“How’s your relationship going, Juyeon?” Mae says a little too loudly, an obvious attempt to divert the attention. 

“It’s going great. We--We really understand each other,” Juyeon says with a small, hesitant smile like he’s trying to hide his happiness. 

“You are so whipped,” Hyunjae singsongs.

“At least my mother doesn’t have to set me up,” Juyeon shoots back.

“OOOH,” echo Mae and Kevin, who accidentally catch each other’s eyes before looking away. Though they’re not fast enough, causing Juyeon to blurt out, “What is going on between you two?” 

“NOTHING!” Both screech at the same time before shooting each other weird looks. 

“Sure doesn’t seem like it though,” Juyeon mutters loud enough for them to hear, while Hyunjae grabs the meat off his plate and stuffs it in his mouth. 

“Speaking of relationships,” Hyunjae continues when Mae hands over the tongs. He puts some fresh meat on the grill, passes some condiments down to Kevin and Juyeon, “Mae, does Changmin not know what boundaries are?” 

“What?” Kevin’s head snapped to attention at the same time that Juyeon said, “what happened with Changmin?” 

“Nothing happened with Changmin,” Mae shoots Hyunjae a look, “stop hyping them up like that.” 

“Oh yeah? Cause you guys were getting pretty friendly when I spotted you in the elevator.” 

“He was trying to untangle my staff card, you dumbass,” she replies through a mouthful of lettuce and pork. Gulping it down, she continues, “stop making the situation something that it’s not. Also, what the fudge were you doing in the Cancer Ward?”

“He was practically breathing the same air as you! How am I supposed to interpret that?!” 

“What? In the elevator? When?” Kevin’s eyes snap right to left in confusion.

“It’s nothing!” Mae answers with flushed cheeks and unable to meet his eyes, “it’s really nothing! And Hyunjae, stop inventing stuff!” 

“I am not! He was so close to you I would have socked him one if I--”

He gets cut off by Juyeon stuffing a roll of lettuce-wrapped meat into his mouth, his words finishing in a gargle as he scowls at Mae with his cheeks still puffed like a sullen child. Mae leans back in her seat, wishing that the ground would swallow her up just so that she does not have to look at Kevin’s face ever again. 

It’s bad enough that she knows he has a crush on her, bad enough that she secretly harbours the same feelings and isn’t sure how to express them. Adding Changmin to the mix will only provoke him and create a havoc of misunderstandings that she really does not wish to get into right now, and Hyunjae’s big ass mouth is not helping.

She waits until Kevin and Juyeon go off their separate ways with an excuse that she’s riding with Hyunjae this time, for he’s going back for his night shift at the hospital. As soon as she gets into his car and slams the door closed, Mae proceeds to whack him across the back of his head.

“Ouch, Jesus woman,” Hyunjae rubs at the sore spot with a grimace, “what was that for?”

“You idiot,” Mae hisses, “why in the world are you talking about Changmin in front of Kevin? You know how insecure he gets!” 

“Relax Mae. I was doing that to rile him up for you.” “Well don’t. I don’t like it.” 

“Hey, I have good intentions okay? Next thing you know, he’s probably going to get off his lazy ass and confess,“ he stops at a red light and cups his face with his hands in a dramatic pout, “and who are you going to thank when that happens?” 

“You’re not getting any credit for that.” 

“You’re so mean.” 

They finally pull up to the Hospital main entrance, before the man nods at her, “go on. I’ll go find a parking spot.” 

“Do I have to say thank you even though I’m pissed at you?” Mae asks, grudgingly picking up her bag. 

“Do you want me to tell my mother how mannerless you are?” he pauses, “actually, maybe that’ll stop her from marrying us off.” 

Despite their earlier argument, a smile creeps up her lips before exploding into a full-out grin. She salutes him, “see you on the other side.” 

“You’re talking as if we’re going to die.” 

“We might as well die, if we don’t save our patients.” 

“Wise words Mae,” he calls out as she walks away, and then chuckles when she sticks her arm out in a back-handed wave.

--------

I gotta say that Mae and Hyunjae’s interactions make me go AHDFH sometimes cause they fight like siblings and it’s the cutest thing. Who agrees with me? 

NEXT EP WILL BE OUT ON MONDAY! 

Tagging: @juyeonzz​ because she is the sweetest thing :,) 

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tagging list! Otherwise, don’t forget to turn on notifications for my Tumblr so that you don’t miss out on Deobi Playlist! ^^ 

[ilovejaskierthebard]

Domestic!Witcher AU: Part II

Tumblr was very mean to me and stole the first reply to this, and I am so thankful that the majestic @gods-no-longer-tread-here has decided to add fuel to the fire and give me more to work with/takes pity on my dumbass ways that can't work a tumblr ask to save her life

So lets try this again!

It's not crazy to think the villagers would ask Eskel's brothers for the low down on the handsome goat dad; these people don't just want to unlace the Codpiece of Destiny for a night. They want to whoo Eskel. They want to court him. They want to put a ring on it and have a baby goat ring barer in their summer wedding that they have been planning since they tried his cheese okay -so of course they go to his brothers/father figure for advice.

Except neither brother are super great at romance.

Like, Geralt might not even count because they would ask questions like what's his favorite color and does he have a gf/bf? -and this poor horse trainer who just wants to be left alone is just like hmmn and does that even count as an answer -because no one has been able to afford Jaskier's Advance Understanding of Geralt's Hmms  lessons so that means they have no idea what he means??

((No one can afford it on purpose. As if Jaskier would share that power with anyone but Ciri))

Geralt probably does know the answers but is a super protective of his brothers and thinks if you want someone like Eskel you gotta do it yourself.

Meanwhile my favorite goblin baby Lambert is just doing what every little bro would do and just completely fucking with anyone who has the balls to ask him

He does NOT have time to deal with this. He has bread to poof! Cookies to make! Buns to butter!

So he messes with them.

Like, oh yeah. Eskel's birthday is tomorrow and his favorite color is yellow green and he really loves getting his socks in that color. You should totally get him a pair. Just run up and shove them into his hands. Don't say anything though, because he is super shy."

Or

"Eskel is super into knife jugglers. Yup. Like you wouldn't believe. Might marry you on the spot if he saw you doing it."

-and poor confused Eskel gets a lot of people suddenly handing him expensive ugly green socks that month with absolutely no reason?? They just smile at him and run away?? And he also gets really concerned when there seems to be an increase in terrible knife jugglers in the village now too...

((Of course he accepts the socks, why wouldn't he? They are nice socks even if they are a terrible shade and why won't Lambert stop laughing at them???))

Secretly Lambert is a romantic tho (and no he won't admit it and yes he will poison your breakfast toast if you tell anyone.) But again its not great advice or even makes that much sense???

Lambert: Just grow some horns. He's into that. Promise.

Villager: I will NOT dress up like a goat, Lambert! NOT AGAIN!

Jaskier is also a terrible person to ask, even if he would try to convince everyone otherwise. Like look at all his romantic lesson plans! Look at all the happy couples he brings together! His odes of poetry and limericks to Geralt’s ass is proof enough! Which sure yeah. There are some happy couples and turns out rhyming ‘his ample backside’ with ‘heart soars, satisfied’ isn’t the worst? 

no it is.

-except he is basically a chaotic fae in my world, so all his work is done in a way that causes several break-ups or causes the local priest to abandon his work so he can run away with the local cobblesmith so now no one can get married or have new shoes. And lets be real, his match making is probably along the lines of 'hey you two would make a great couple! You both enjoy [insert rare kink] and I would know because I slept with you both at seperate times, so you also have that in common, how fun!'

He makes as many couples as he breaks

The universal truth is that Vesemir is the best to ask, but it's hard to pin him down because he's so busy, teaching kids, yelling at Lambert and taking vacays with his multiple rich hot widows. He will only answer serious suitors for a price too. They either have to donate to the local library [1 book per question or put in the hours at teaching the kids a skill] -and so basically this funds the whole village's education. They have the best library for miles and miles. It's like if the Library of Alexandria was built on one Sugar Baby's wisdom. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Meanwhile Eskel is just hanging out with his goat babies and making cheese and wondering why the town he lives near is so god damn weird.

Srsly that one guy dressed up like a goat wtf