#I got seven more asks to go from this last batch so stay on the look out if you sent one

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.

This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!

~

Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.

Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?

Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.

You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."

You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.

You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."

Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."

You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."

"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"

"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."

"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.

"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."

That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"

"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."

Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"

You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.

"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.

Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."

"Well in that case..."

And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.

Little star, so bright and fierce,

Beautiful with eyes that pierce,

But that's not all there is,

He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,

Charming and witty, a wish come true,

If only the rest of the world knew.

Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.

And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part VI

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchlia, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @shizunxie, @food-lover9000, @exactlydeafeningmusic, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @sillybeanzo, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness

a/n: I’m quite glad because I finally have this story almost done! As of now I’m estimating 5 to 7 more chapters left so that’s exciting! anyway let’s get on with the story! (Also for those wondering yes I’m also working on requests from my latest post)

a shift back to the original perspective

“I can’t deal with this any longer Lucifer it’s like torture!” Asmo cried, as he leaned onto his older brother’s shoulder.

“Asmodeus get off of me and pull yourself together” Lucifer sighed.

“But-“

“Enough” the eldest said, raising his voice.

Asmo was taken back a bit at his brother's harsh tone but nonetheless went back to moping. He couldn’t really blame Lucifer because everyone was on edge due to Mc’s harsh behavior. Well everyone except the residents in Purgatory Hall. They were constantly visited by Mc which caused inevitable tension between them and the brothers.

However what no one could figure out was how this drastic change in personality came to be. After all Mc was perfectly fine at the beginning of the week, everything was fine at the beginning of the week.

Well everyone guessed the old saying was true, you don’t know what you have until you lose it. And they sure as hell were upset about losing your personality.

It started off with them believing you had a bad dream of sorts, however when you returned after your stay at Purgatory Hall still upset at them, the brothers racked their brains trying to figure out what they did to make you so upset.

However when they confronted you about the issue you laughed in their faces. Saying something along the lines of “If you seriously don’t know what’s wrong then why waste your breath taking to me, go make yourself useful and bother someone else”

The reaction they got was unexpected to say the least and you hadn’t planned on opening up anytime soon so the brothers went to their last resort. They all had asked Solomon to do a bit of investigating for them as a favor of sorts; of course they would have asked the prince or his butler but as of late you wanted nothing to do with them.

Diavolo felt hurt by this fact because you were his exchange student and at the end of the day it was his job to make sure you were comfortable down here. And if he couldn’t even do that then what was the purpose of this program. So he too went to Solomon asking for a favor, even for a second Simeon had crossed his mind too, but he decided against it.

So with everything set in motion the angels and sorcerer decided to invite you over to try a new batch of tea Simeon received from the Celestial Realm after classes had finished. They were also able to get Luke a private lesson with Barbatos to ensure he didn’t get caught up in drama. The younger angel knew something was up with you however he humored the other two because he wanted you to get back to normal, plus it gave him time to perfect a new recipe.

______

You and Solomon had finished up your last minute studying for the day and were currently on your way to Purgatory Hall to meet Simeon for tea.

As small talk was made you decided to bring up a question that had been plaguing you for a few days.

“Solomon, I have a question to ask,” you said, facing the sorcerer in question.

“What is it?” He replied, curious to know what you would bring up.

“How many demons do I have a pact with?”

The question took Solomon by surprise and he gave you a concerned look. After all he hardly remembered each of his 72 pacts, but for you to ask such a question when you only had seven was a bit well…concerning.

“You have 7 Mc, one with each of the brothers. Why do you ask?”

“Hmm oh no reason” you responded.

It’s as you thought, this was either the future, a dream, or something else entirely different. After all the current you wouldn’t have a bunch of pictures of those demons on your wall. And last time you checked there were two extra pact marks that weren’t previously there, both bearing different symbols you weren’t familiar with. So it had to belong to Lucifer and Belphegor.

It was a bit odd really, because you had known the brothers to be clingy but now they were just going overboard with their affection and concerns. But in all honesty it was hilarious to you that they didn’t understand why you were mad at them, since you remembered to remind them everyday. No matter though it wouldn’t be long before you blew up on them anyway.

“Are you okay Mc?” Solomon asked, nudging you a bit with his arm.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry I guess I just spaced out a bit”

“Well it’s fine, since we’re already here”

“Oh I guess you’re right,” you laughed.

“Hey you two! The tea just finished so why don’t you have a seat, I’ll grab some cookies too” Simeon said, opening the door to greet you both.

You and Solomon smiled and headed towards the couch in the middle of the living room. Once the two of you got settled Simeon joined you with the tea and refreshments he promised.

So far everything was going well, the two thought. You were always comfortable around them so they never really struggled to get you to talk or open up about any problems. You were currently talking about your day when you had made a snarky comment about one of the brothers then continued on with your story.

Solomon thought now would be a good time to question you since you were the one to bring up the demons. He looked towards Simeon for a reassuring answer and the latter nodded in agreement.

“So Mc what’s the deal with you and the brothers lately? Well actually what did those demons do to upset you this much” Solomon asked, laughing just a bit.

You cocked your eyebrow at his statement and narrowed your eyes the slightest before responding. “I’m still upset for the same reason I’ve always been, nothing has changed except for the fact they refuse to leave me alone now”

“The same reason? What have they done previously” Simeon asked, now curious about your answer.

“I’ve told both of you why I’m upset with them countless times?” You questioned “ Or did you both just forget”

“I’m sorry Mc but I can’t remember you complaining about the brothers in a way like that” Solomon replied.

“Yes he’s right, if anything the brothers are nothing but nice to you? Well there are those few times where they drag you into their schemes, but overall they love and dote on you very much Mc” Simeon added.

“Oh yeah because they all loved and doted on me when Belphegor killed me” you responded rolling your eyes.

Both men went silent and shared a shocked expression wondering if the other heard what had come out of your mouth correctly.

“Belphegor did what to you..?” Solomon asked.

You glanced over him and responded cautiously. “He killed me. I’ve told you both this before why are you making those faces”

“We’ve never heard of anything like this before Mc..” Simeon responded horrified.

“Well if you must know, then I’ll explain it again”

And you did just that. You gave them every single detail of that day to the two sitting right in front of you; and like a good audience they listened.

They listened to how you explained the sensation of dying, as well as the way it felt to be betrayed when you were only trying to help. They listened to every word that left your mouth good and bad, waiting, hoping, even praying that this wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no way the brothers would do that to you, they loved you. After all there was no way Diavolo or Lucifer could let you die, it was their job to keep you safe.

Is what they thought until you explained to them the conditions Diavolo and Barbatos gave you when you returned back in time. In a sense Diavolo could even be at fault for your death.

The more they listened the worse their heads felt, there wasn’t any way this could be real, yet the way you describe each detail with such emotion they couldn’t believe anything otherwise.

After you finished they each took turns asking an occasional question waiting for your response. However one thing was for certain, you were to stay away from those demons at all costs and they would have a word with them tomorrow.

______

The doors to the RAD student council room opened to reveal one human and angel considerably angry.

“What’s up with you two?” Mammon asked, confused.

“Did the talk with Mc go well?” Diavolo questioned, a bit concerned by their reaction.

“It went considerably well actually” Solomon responded crossing his arms

“That’s great! What did you three talk about?” Asmo exclaimed.

“Oh you know the usual, Mc’s day, the tea I prepared, classes and such too.” Simeon started. “But one thing each of you failed to mention was the fact that Belphegor here killed Mc”

Each demon in the room tensed at the mention of that day. No one knew what to say, after all it was just agreed collectively to never be brought up again. So why now? Why was this issue arising again? Why was Mc still talking about it? Hadn’t they forgiven Belphie?

“Where did you hear that from?” Lucifer was the first to break the silence.

“From Mc themselves, after all they relayed each detail to us yesterday” Solomon responded.

“But Mc never brings up stuff like that! So why now?” Mammon added.

“I actually might have a theory about that.” Barbatos said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, well please enlighten us,” Simeon replied.

“If my Lord wishes so then I will” Barbatos commented.

“Go ahead” Diavolo responded, eager to hear what his butler was talking about.

“I believe the Mc we are currently interacting with is not our own”

“What do ya mean by that?” Mammon asked, shooting out of his chair.

“I mean that this Mc is from a different timeline, and ours is in another one. In simple terms our Mc switched with the one we are currently interacting with, due to a certain curse”

“A curse?” Satan asked.

“Yes a curse, however I am still unsure of the true nature of this curse so I cannot estimate when our Mc will return”

“If that’s the case then what’s the difference between the two Mc’s?” Levi asked, now confused.

“Well it appears that this Mc still hasn’t forgiven you for killing them?” Solomon added.

“If they have experienced the same things our Mc has then that brings a question to wonder. Just how many timelines are there where Mc has been killed?” Simeon questioned looking toward the youngest demon brother.

Belphie hid in his pillow as his twin came up beside him for comfort. “Stop picking on Belphie, he already feels bad about the whole situation” Beel added.

“Well that’s to be expected, however Mc is mad at all of you not just Belphegor. So has it ever occurred to you to apologize to them for everything they went through? After all, I believe there were numerous accounts in the beginning of the year where each of you tried to separately endanger their life” the angel added, with the slightest bit of venom to his tone.

Each brother stared at the next waiting for one to speak up for them, however none did. Not even Lucifer.

Maybe Simeon was right, had they really never apologized to their Mc about the whole situation.

Well it was too late for that now, because no one knew when they were going to see their beloved Mc again.

Next part

[rottin6]

give me thief james..... snippets please.. im a beggar at ur doorsrtep

got major writers block and cannot for the life of me finish this one but here u go mwah!!!

There was a fucking thief and Regulus was hell bent on catching him if it was the last thing he ever did.

He didn’t realise it at first. Of course, he didn’t. No one ever thinks to count the flowers or notices that someone would be stealing them out of all the things in the shop. But on a Tuesday morning, Regulus refilled the stands, paying more attention to the white roses which he thought smelled quite nice but were drastically overpriced. An old lady came by sometime later on and asked Regulus when they’d be getting a new batch in, and that’s the confusing part. Because not once that day did Regulus sell anyone any white roses.

Now, the thievery didn’t happen for the rest of the week, but Regulus was so sure that whoever it was, was going to strike again the following tuesday. So, like any normal and sane-minded person, he set out to catch them instead of calling the police.

Regulus arrived earlier for his shift that day with a goddamn plan. He’d gone though it in his head at least twenty times and was certain it was fool-proof. He must’ve had around three coffees and four energy drinks coursing through him because what if the thief was a seven foot hench bodybuilder? Regulus may as well give him the rest of the flowers and anything else in the shop because he, albeit studied the art of martial arts over one summer, was about as frail as a feather in a thunderstorm.

Regulus filled the bucket with flowers before promptly ducking away behind the stack of umbrellas. He stayed there for minutes, patiently waiting for the thief so that he could execute his very well made plan. It got to the point where he was beginning to think no one was going to rob him today but as he began to move, a flicker of movement caught his eye and he froze.

Regulus had never spoken to James Potter before, but everyone knew of him. Everyone knew about his football success and how he was the golden boy of the decade, on his way to becoming a huge star. Regulus’ best friend, Remus, had warned him away from pretty, popular boys on his first week at college as they watched James sit on a table with a huge group of friends, rowdy and loud.

“Popular ones aren’t for boys like me and you, Reg.” Regulus did ask why but Remus only shook his head, looking enigmatically stressed as always.

Regulus was sure he was looking the same when he caught James standing in the door of the shop, one leg in and one out. His fingers picked meticulously at the white roses, holding them carefully in a batch. Regulus couldn’t look away—James’ hands moved dainitly from stem to stem, being so gentle that Regulus couldn’t even be angry or scared at the situation. Though, by default, he was both, considering James Potter was stealing from him.

That’s when Regulus, obviously, had to knock into an umbrella.

“Shit,” James muttered, freezing before standing upright and looking around. “Hello?” he called. “Hey, is someone there?”

Regulus didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say and instead settled on resting his palms and his back flat on the wall behind him. So much for a well thought out plan.

“I–I can explain,” James continued, adjusting the glasses on his face. “I wasn’t breaking and entering. Well, I was entering but your door was already open in my defence, so there was no breaking.”

Regulus begged to differ but it wasn’t as though he was about to tell James that. He could barely lift a finger. He knew he had to do something, anything, and he so wished he had his phone so he could text Remus for help.

“Also,” James paused, the moment laying between them as though he could tell Regulus was listening. “I found something,” he said. “A necklace?”

And Regulus jumped out immediately, brushing past the newspaper stands and coming face to face with the boy in front of him. A gust of air swept by him from the late spring winds coming in through the door, wrapping around Regulus, and for once, he was self conscious.

But then James’ face had broken into a grin. “Oh,” he sighed. “Hi.”

His arm was still firm against his chest, the flowers nestled like one of his football trophies. His eyes, clear and golden, were on Regulus, who squinted back and held out his hand, attempting to look as mean as possible. “Give me the necklace,” he said, not budging. “Now.”

In an ideal world, James would’ve given the necklace and the flowers back, apologised and then left Regulus alone forever. But rather, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, his face taken up by his wide teeth grin and dimples so deep that Regulus wanted to sink his finger in.

“Can’t we talk first?” he asked, amusement flowing behind his eyes and Regulus struggled to stand still. “Now that you caught me and all, you know. I didn’t think you’d be all business already, seeing as it’s only what, half eight?”

“Who steals at half eight in the morning?” Regulus blurted out, his hands clenching into a fist shape at either side of him.

“Well, I’m no proper thief but I doubt any of them have schedules and stuff.”

“Stop talking.” Regulus said. “Give me the necklace, or I’m calling the police.”

James raised his eyebrows, his smile stretching further. “Or?” he echoed.

Regulus nodded, “Yes. Give it to me and I won’t report you, and we can just–just pretend none of this ever happened.” He crossed two fingers over his chest, James’ eyes following the movement. “Promise.”

He wasn’t really going to call James in. Not only did stealing flowers seem like a stupid crime to call the police for, but if his boss found out there was a thief, she’d most likely fire him and Regulus can’t let that happen.

So it worked in his favour when James finally took a step closer to him. “Who am I to say no to an offer like that?” he said, the morning sun hitting his face just right. Up close, his eyes were bronze with specks of green dotted around, the same size as the moles scattered across his face.

“Here you go.”

James placed the necklace into Regulus’ palm, the metal cold on his skin and so different from the brief warmth he felt from James’ touch. His pulse spiked and he stuffed the necklace deep into the pocket of his jacket.

“Thanks,” Regulus said quickly, his cheeks matching the red roses next to him. He moved past James and held onto the side of the door, motioning out. “Really, thanks. See you at school—”

“Wait.” James spoke, standing in front of Regulus who huffed. “I don’t know your name.” he said, leaning on the door. “I’m James.”

“I know.” Regulus’ voice stayed calm. “And you really shouldn’t introduce yourself to the workers of shops you steal from.”

James looked down at the roses he held onto, his brows creasing. “Oh. Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“It’s fine,” Regulus gritted out, his hand holding onto the door. “We just got that batch in actually, but it’s fine. I just n—”

James interrupted him. “Wait. So, you’re okay with me taking your flowers?”

“No fucking way,” Regulus shook his vigorously. “Definitely not. I’m actually not okay with any of this which is why I need you to leave right now.”

Neither of them spoke for a couple of seconds and for the first time that morning, James’ smile faltered. He nodded, “Okay. Okay, yeah, I’ll leave.” he said. “But I wouldn’t be here if I absolutely didn’t need to be. And I can show you why–”

Regulus formed another great plan at that moment. It was quick and stupid but needed to be done. And as soon as James moved himself from the door, Regulus leapt out of the way and crashed it into the frame, pushing James out while doing so.

He jumped back and Regulus would have laughed at the bewildered look on his face if he wasn’t so committed to his plan, busy locking the door. He let out a long breath, his heart erratic, as he met James’ gaze through the glass.

He mouthed something but Regulus just shrugged, tending to the flowers and umbrellas which fell during his whole scheme. He felt the weight of the necklace in his pocket and the relief that it came with—worth losing roses for, he supposed. Regulus half-expected James to bang on the door at some point, to still be there, but when Regulus looked out and saw no one, he unlocked the door again.

He hesitated only momentarily before standing behind the till and finishing the rest of his shift, with a strange feeling of regret for not telling his name.

[findingtomarrymort]

Hello! I'm here to ask help in finding two fics in ao3!

1. This fic was a short one. Probably below 3-5k words? I'm not sure. But it was a one shot and complete fic. I remember the story started with Harry, much younger than Tom, entered the room and knelt in from of Tom. He asked Harry, who was covered in so much blood, what happened and he confessed of killing Ginny, his wife, bcs she was getting suspicious of them and followed him. I think Tom was sort of a mob boss and is very obsessed with Harry that it was said how he didn't even mind his favorite suit getting blood in it even though he knows Harry would be upset for him later, and was actually sort of proud of Harry and keeps praising him and calling him pet names. Harry told Tom that the murder weapon was Tom's grandfather's knife, whose blade was very distinguishable and would be easily recognized, that's why he sort of implied that they'd burn the body later in a bonfire. This is a muggle AU, btw.

2. This one is longer. 50k+ words. I remembered how the fic was already finished but still marked as WIP bcs the author was planning on adding more chapters in it telling Tom and Harry's future. This one was an AU where Tom and Harry are in the same era. It started with a young Harry, being young and neglected by James for his twin siblings (b&g) , bcs Lily died in giving birth to him, decided to give gifts (?) by wrapping one and wishing that someone would receive it. Tom, in an orphanage that time, was the one who received the gifts which was signed only as 'H'. Ofc, Tom became possessive and obsessed with this person that gives him gifts every Christmas since that year until Hogwarts. Harry, a smart student, later top dueller of the class and the unknown top one of his batch until revealed later in the story, managed to figure out by his early years at Hogwarts that Tom was the receiver of his gifts but stayed anonymous. And oh, Harry was actually a seer in this story. So Tom, figured out in their fifth year, i think, that his 'H' was Harry and sort of coerced him in a relationship but Harry, who can very much defend himself from Tom, just went along with it and they became close. Only, Harry saw the future where Tom became a dark lord and even had a vision of being abducted with a bag in his head and was presented in front of him in that same future. He tries to change Tom, only, he did something that made Harry leave him. I think he made Tom choose between him and being a dark lord bcs Tom was doing something evil that time. Like creating his first horcrux, i think. So they broke up and Draco, whose Harry's elder brother's crush, had a crush with Harry and they became close that time. Next chapter, showed Tom, seven years after Hogwarts, in a ball, who was planning to leave Britain after that be go on in a journey as the greatest Dark Lord ever, seeing Harry for the first time since their Hogwarts graduation. In their graduation, he tried talking to Harry, only, when their eyes met, Harry saw him and a look of dissapointment and disgust (?) passed his eyes and that hurt Tom do much. In the present, he followed Harry in a balcony, looking beautiful in the moonlight as the cliché goes, but Draco got to him first and their conversation implied their relationship, that Draco actually liked being called 'Dragon' by Harry in bed last night, and that they were married/bethroted (?). Then they talked about Tom but Harry assured Draco that Harry doesn't care about him anymore bcs they belong to each other now and Tom was devastated and mourned the loss of his 'H' whom he loved since he was a child and then he woke up. They made up after that scene after Tom promised to be better and Harry also apologized for pressuring him and gave him a last chance. Harry was very close with Sirius in this fic, btw, bcs of James' neglect and Tom even misunderstood once that 'Siri' was Harry's lover. The story ended with Harry leaving and travelling the world but promising Tom that they'd owl each other and Tom knowing Harry was still hiding something from him (Harry's inner eye) and would wait for Harry to come back, trust him, and tell him this secret. This is why i believe the story's done already and the next chapters should be just added in a series but yeah, the fic was still a WIP.

I hope i was helpful enough with these details!! Thank you!!

another confetti for royal-ides, who, again from sheer determination, found the second fic on their own ❤️

have a fun read!

1. Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Torrent

Summary:

He notices the blood on Harry’s hands and clothes, and he offers no reaction—simply arranges the British boy so that the blood stays away from Tom’s expensive suit jacket.

“Would you like to tell me what happened, sweetie?”

2. You Were There For Me Through Gifts by N_Author

Summary:

Harrison Potter, the third child of the Potter's is neglected by family and mostly everyone throughout his life (Not the usual abusive story).

He thrives to be best and sometimes wishes someone to be with him when he feels alone. In his childhood he sets aside gift to someone in the world who feels alone like him and it disappears to that someone by some strange Christmas magic. Seeing it disappear he makes a habit to send it every Christmas. What will he do when he meets that someone in future..?

How will their relationship change?

[riotbrrrd]

Heads Up Seven Up

Got tagged by @scienceoftheidiot and I'm trying to stay awake at work so here we go, 7 paragraph breaks of a wip.

He wakes up to the sound of rummaging around. Heart jumping in his throat, blood turning to acid. Bright daylight coming from the windows. Stakh is going through his drawers.

Most of the room has been cleaned, but everything is still slightly out of place, too far from the walls, pushed around by large hands and panicked bodies searching for secret compartments. Artemy can't stop his gaze from jumping from one corner to another, trying to see if they missed anything. There's food left on the table that makes his stomach growl.

Stakh gives him a glance like he'd throw him a punch.

“We should get a proper bed inside your workshop. I tried to take a nap down there and thought it was going to kill me. If you’re good I’ll take the bed after you.”

Artemy nods. He should get a look at his house. He hasn't had the time to think about it since he learned it was being looted, and it probably wasn't even the last time someone did. And check on Lara again, but he should get to the Lair first so that he can grab a bottle for her if… it's become so easy to mentally draw the pattern of his feet through streets he knows by heart, to count each of his steps so as to not waste a second. Judging by the lighting he can't have slept more than four hours. Who's getting the doses made in the meantime?

“I left Dankovsky watching over a batch,” Stakh adds as if he could hear Artemy's cogs running. “But there's also a teenager with a toolkit who keeps asking for you, so…”

His eyes flicker down, his tongue licks his lips as if to catch himself. He's so tall now. Standing in a room filled with his stuff, but slightly to the left, like he doesn't quite belong. Artemy didn't really have the time or the ability to really wonder what Stakh became while he was away. He can wonder now. He can start thinking about how Stakh has been talking to him since he's back, like he's gotten used at ordering people around. He thinks of the knife cutting the livers out of three men lying behind the warehouses.

[ryuzakemo128]

The Angel Of Death

Chapter Twenty Seven: Where to go from here?

<- Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: Red is making another step forward in her life and she's thinking about either proposing marriage to Thomas or wait until the dust settled.

Trigger Warning: Angst, Alcohol and drug usage, possible sex scene here or there,

Red and Thomas started to take the time to spend more time with each other. Red decided to stay with the Russian Mafia, the outcome of that meant more people defending both Thomas and the children. Which remained to be one of the few confusing for Thomas and the rest of his family.

"Why aren't you in that whole deal?"

"Why would I be in that 'deal'?" Red is beyond confused now.

"Because there are Russian men keeping us safe,"

"Yeah, I can certainly see that Thomas. I'm certainly not blind,"

"Why aren't they following you around?"

"Because I asked them to care for your safety needs as well as the needs of the children, throw in the fact that I most likely get shot at most of the time so I get shot it won't hurt my pride as much,"

"You not mind being shot is really weird," Michael says frowning,

"Not if you get shot as often as I do," Red stated plain as day.

"You get shot more often than not? How does Thomas feel about that?"

"After it happens, never beforehand. I'm not a fortune teller I can't tell you when it happens or why it happen, but it does"

Thomas gleefully watched the two in Red's upstairs office walk in circles while arguing about the statistical measure of how many times Red should have been shot rather than not.

"It's part of my life as far as your concerned,"

"And I'm saying it shouldn't be"

"I haven't been shot or shot at in months, the last time it happen I also managed to break my foot walking out of my car," Red frowned more so at this point of her conversation with Michael, "Don't tell not to get shot because I swear it'll happen because you have willed it to happen."

"You have stepped outside in four almost five days," Thomas said to her, "I'm sure you won't get shot at or shot when you leave the house or while you are outside the house,"

"Sure, you say that now," Red stated staring outside the bedroom window.

"I'm sure Michael didn't mean to make you feel scared either," Thomas says as he lit a cigarette, "I'm also sure that you'd scare Masha if this continues,"

Red then proceeded to go back to bed, "Wake me up in twenty minutes, I'll deal with the murder conspiracies later."

Red didn't know what else to offset the increased momentum of work coming in at several diverse angles. She went from bypassing the outside world to completely being invested in it to a concerning level. Thomas had Michael lectured about scaring her. She had several assassins at her beck and call throughout the day. She changed up throughout the day to align them in the right places and within Thomas's timetable. Red frowned at Michael's dirty looks at her, scanning his body language to even get a chance at knowing what happened. "I never got the chance to leave the office and help yourself to the hard liquor. You look like you require it more than I do right now," "You have no right to say those things," "What things?" "You know what you said to me yesterday, I'm owed an apology right here and now," "I didn't offend you I indicated out the fact that I get shot more times than you have," "I also have been told that you need my brain," "Thomas sent you here," "I never said I was sent here by your controlling boyfriend," "Your mother?" "Nope, I came here because you upset me. I heard you also need more of excelled mind to help you," "Are you insinuating that I haven't got a clue about my own business?" "I don't mean that," "Yeah, sure. I need you to examine those counterfeit items I recently got a batch of and I also need you to write down the amount," "When did these get into your office?" "This morning," "Why can't you do it?" "You said you wanted to help," "with the paperwork," "It's part of the paperwork," "How is counting counterfeit items part of paperwork?" "Technically counterfeit money by the looks of it,"

"How big is your production connections anyway?" "big enough to give headaches and spinal issues," Red said as she gave Michael better access and a more comfortable chair to sit on.

"You could have mentioned that a few days ago that you were going to mention her, refrain from mentioning her for the foreseeable future,"

"You launder money for the Chinese?!" Thomas burst in aggravated, beyond aggravated by the look of it.

"And the Russians, what about it?" Red says nonchalantly.

"There are several things I feel I need to point out that I find wrong about that fact," "I don't dabble in drugs, I dabble in counterfeit ones and I do work for others too and it's part of the job,"

Red explained what she sold in Small Heath and what she wasn't willing to see there. She went into so much detail that Michael nearly fell asleep twice.

"Now do you understand what this business entails?"

"At least a little, not a whole lot but I feel more comfortable,"

"Great, if you have more questions let me know,"

With that Thomas and Red came to an agreement that her business shouldn't be selling Arthur drugs anymore.

"I'll call my people and tell them to call yours, worse case scenario I scare the love of god into him and it gets better from there?" Red suggested.

[chubbology]

A Little Incentive

prompt: someone skinny grows chubby on their partner's good cooking and insistence they eat well

From the tempting smell of bacon and syrup that wafted into the room, I knew she’d outdone herself this morning.

“I made breakfast,” she stage-whispered to me. I grinned and turned over in bed, feigning sleepiness even though what I really wanted was to sit right up and take that plate from her hands.

Then my stomach growled and she laughed.

“The others are jealous,” she said. “But I told them they already had a habit of eating breakfast. You’re the one I need to hammer it into, by any means necessary.”

I took a deep breath and sat up in bed, pushing hair out of my face. “Consider me incentivized.” I took the heaping plate of breakfast food that she pushed at me, then the fork, and started into the chocolate chip pancakes, which were half soaked in syrup. Also on the plate lay bacon, eggs, hash browns, a muffin, and…

“French toast sticks, too?”

“As a reward for finishing all your exams! I know you like them.”

I thanked her. She poked my side and smiled fondly at me. “At the beginning of this semester, you would have said this was too much. I hope you know that it makes me the happiest girl in the world that you’re eating properly now.”

In response, I took a bite of extra crispy bacon and groaned in pleasure. As she got ready for the day, I considered her comment. Eating properly. She and I had different definitions of that, or used to at least.

My first two years of college were hard. Working part time, taking hard classes, dealing with an awful roommate. I barely took care of myself. I thought eating properly was eating at all. But then I met her and we hit it off, became friends and then more than friends, then moved in together with a couple more roommates just barely off campus. All the while, she made a point of showing me each day what eating properly meant to her: big meals cooked in the kitchenette or piled onto plates in the dining halls, snacks throughout the day, and never forgetting dessert. It kept her chubby, but she didn’t mind. I certainly didn’t.

“Bye!” I called out as she left for her last day of exams. She seemed confident about how hers had gone so far. Me? Not so much. I was never a good test taker.

I finished my plate down to the crumbs. I went and leisurely washed the dishes. I had pretty much nothing to do today. From the silence coming from the other bedrooms, I knew I had the apartment to myself, too. I could go outside, but it was too hot. And like hell I was going to go to the library again until I absolutely had to. There were always video games, but I stayed up late last night staring at screens, trying to forget my poor performance on my own last exam of the semester. I felt burnt out on everything.

I blinked in confusion when I realized I’d opened the fridge. I closed it. I literally just ate, so I don’t know why I’d…

The next three hours, I spent back in bed. Looking on my phone, resting my eyes, worrying about exam results, and tugging on my pajama pants. They were tight because I was so full. Eventually I decided to do something productive, starting with a shower. Maybe I could drive to a café or something, hang out there.

After showering and dressing (since I wasn’t exactly full anymore, I figured the tightness of my shorts was from bloating) I wandered into the kitchen for something to snack on. The fridge was always well stocked, and I eyed the rest of the batch of muffins in tupperware. I heard her voice in my mind: It makes me happy when you treat yourself.

What the hell. I took out the container, opened it, and took a bite out of the cinnamon raisin muffin. I closed my eyes. Big and sugary and so good. Better than the first one, maybe, because it had cooled off and I could better taste the flavor. I ate another one. And then I treated myself with a third before closing the lid again. There were still eight left.

I tried putting the container back in the fridge, but something stopped me. Go ahead, I heard her say. You don’t eat enough.

Slowly, I opened the container again and ate two more of the muffins. They were just so good. Then I put the container away, firmly slamming the fridge door and biting my lip. Truth was, she stopped telling me I don’t eat enough months ago.

I went back into the bathroom and took a good look at myself, which I’d avoided doing before. Truth was, my shorts were tight because, thanks to my partner’s cooking and our lingering stays at the dining halls and my new penchant for snacking, I had filled out more than a little. I’d put on my own chub. My shirt clung to my sides, which were soft and rounded (Is that why she poked me?), and upon closer inspection, I couldn’t deny my face looked tubbier, too.

I stood in quiet shock for a while, gently pressing my palm to the outward slump of my belly, its natural shape when I didn’t suck it in. (When did I start unconsciously sucking it in?) After a minute of dazedly contemplating my weight, I rummaged around for a dusty scale and stepped on it with bated breath.

My jaw fell open. My whole face, my neck, my ears flushed red, even though there was no one to see me there, finding out I was thirty seven pounds heavier than expected.

Forty pounds? Almost forty pounds? It was impossible. I didn’t look that much bigger.

But she had always said I was too skinny. So maybe twenty of those just filled me in? And then the rest was…extra? Forty pounds.

The surprise waned after a few more minutes of checking myself out in the mirror. I found I wasn’t as upset as society had led me to think I would be.

I did go to a café later that day. My newfound self-awareness didn’t kick back in until after I got a grande frappe and a scone. At my table, I thumbed the belly that now warmed a small part of my lap before eating and sipping my treats anyway.

My shorts felt so tight after a while, I just unbuttoned them and hoped no one would notice.

I spent a few hours there, reading and browsing my laptop and giving my soft belly secretive, intrigued touches before I started thinking about the six remaining muffins at the apartment. When I got back, I found I was in good company.

“I really did good on these,” she said, swallowing. “Want one?”

I took one, trying to hide my sheepishness. Did she guess it was me who ate the five that were missing? Or did she think it was our other roommates? Did she think…

“You want to get a late lunch?” “I think I need new clothes.”

We stared at each other. She chuckled, “Sorry, what?”

I flushed, tugging conspicuously on my shorts, not quite able to find the words. “Need to go shopping.” I’ve gained almost forty pounds. Forty pounds! My throat constricted.

“Oh.”

I looked up at her. “You’re a good cook,” I said, grinning. Still a little embarrassed.

But now she was a bit pink in the face, too. “Yeah, we should go shopping. Um. You aren’t mad. Are you? I just really like to cook and bake, and you really were too skinny and—”

“No, no! I’m not mad. I—”

Am I going to get fat? I wanted to ask her suddenly, and I felt very warm. I’m always eating these days. What if I outgrow the new clothes I buy? What then?

“I hope you know I think you look good,” she blurted. My thoughts ceased. “Really good.”

Suddenly, I was aware I’ve been sucking my belly in again. Would it be weird if I stopped? Just let it...swell out? I took in a deep breath, then let it all out, not sucking in this time. Her wide eyes fixated on my chubby lower belly.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to be awkward. “To be honest, I only noticed recently that I look…different.”

Her eyes met mine and she looked very adoring. I’m sure my expression was identical. “Just a little. I was surprised how much your appetite grew.”

“Yeah. You still want to get lunch?” I asked. “Kinda feel like the dining hall.”

Kinda feel like going all out.

I won’t get fat.

Only a little, maybe. Not the end of the world.

“Okay,” she squeaked, as if hearing my thoughts. “Good idea. After all my stupid exams, it’s time to treat myself.”

I wholeheartedly agreed. So we went.

I loved how she looked shyly excited the whole time, as I overdid the second and third helpings. It seemed to make her overdo it some, too. Which spurred me to make it a competition, and there we sat together, overeating like a couple of chubby fiends.

“Still think you’re too skinny,” she taunted me, as we left, already discussing plans for dinner.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[svchengss]

king of hearts | d.sc

PAIRING. dong sicheng x reader

GENRE. high school!au, fluff, slight angst, kind of e2l

WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed any!)

WORD COUNT. 6.7k

SUMMARY. sicheng’s subtle flirts are not working effectively but it only motivates him to try and woo you more. the devil sure works hard but dong sicheng works harder.

PLAYLIST. king of hearts

TAGLIST. @floraljae @clovdless @mashiihearts @ndr1271 @kunrengui (shoutout to mashi for being a major help in the process of writing this <3)

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

music was blaring through the multiple loudspeakers scattered around the school grounds, booths of various interests that were set-up by the clubs being swarmed by visitors and ecstatic oohs and aahs from the ones playing games can be heard intermittently. the annual school festival of redlands high, an event that is looked forward to by every single student there. or maybe not, you’re quite unsure of the self-made data.

you immediately made a beeline to the dance club booth which is managed by yangyang, the president also holding the title of your best friend. a cartoonish grin crept up on his face when he spots you walking towards him.

“so, what do you think? looks legit, huh?” he crossed his arms together, observing the design of the booth with a proud smile. the set-up is definitely eye-catching, not much decorations going on, adding to the simplicity of the white theme with gold touch-ups. you browsed through the plastered posters on the board, inviting people to sign up for their upcoming audition. looking up to the signboard hanging outside, you showed a thumbs up towards him, muttering a quick ‘perfect’.

“so what exactly is your booth doing? there’s not much… activity going on?” you scratched the non-existent itch on your left eyebrow. the boy in front of you gave you an eye roll before explaining that there will be mini dance games - or just dance as he worded. an amused sound left your lips as you bent down, dropping your signature in the guestbook on the wooden table.

“are you coming to the stage shows tonight? i heard there’s a new band performing,” your ears perked up instinctively upon hearing the words. after your sister graduated high school, nobody paid any attention to keep the band going. the zikas, a trio that made the music club strive back then. either the newer batches were too lazy to make an effort or too scared if they weren’t up to the already high standards of the school.

“i’m going if you’re going,” you simply stated, which made yangyang flash you the same grin from before. you said your simple goodbyes when people started lining up to try the just dance game at his booth. after he reminded you to wait for him by the statue, you went off to check out the food sales, eager to fill your growling stomach since this morning.

you can do this, sicheng. you can do this.

he made sure to double check the tuning of his guitar for one last time before joining the rest of his bandmates on the stage. his tall and slim physique surely left an impact, seeing that some of the audience suddenly became more invested in the performance compared to the others. he’s wearing some band’s shirt - probably green day since it’s quite similar to your sister’s posters in her room, black leather jacket and his black hair middle parted. not to miss the silver pendant necklace on his neck, sparkling under the spotlight.

the moment he struck the pick through the strings of his electric guitar, the drummer and bassist followed after, producing a melody that is pleasing to your ears. he held the microphone closer to his mouth, singing the lyrics as you bobbed your head up and down to the covers they sang - american idiot and helena are the ones you recognized since you’ve heard the songs so often. yangyang on the other hand kept on sipping the chocolate milkshake in his hand, vibing with the music as well.

the next song was a sentimental one which you assumed is a self-composed one, since you’ve never heard this song before. before you know it, the performance is over and the audience have started packing up their belongings to hang out somewhere else or go home.

“good job everyone, we did well,” yuta, who played the bass earlier, high-fived the rest of the band with a sly grin on his face. guanheng chugged the mineral water down his throat before stashing his drumsticks into the bag while sicheng was lost in his thoughts. he doesn’t know why but you stood out from the crowd, only able to see you just now. he wouldn’t say it’s a crush, not knowing anything about you but it definitely made him feel something. a trigger in his heart, not knowing where it leads to. but what he does know is that you caught his attention.

“and you know what he said? i’ll come back crawling to him just like his other exes. what the heck is even that?” you took out the binders from your locker while listening to ningning rant about her love life. since you haven’t had any relationships before, you’re not really a professional in this aspect of life so you just kept your mouth shut to avoid giving useless advice.

“that sounds so rude, he’s such a jerk,” you commented, taking the first bite of your sandwich afterwards. the tea-spilling session eventually came to an end when she reached her class first and you kept walking to mrs. walker’s, english being your first period. nothing exciting really happened in that class except someone got their phone confiscated for texting in class - just the usual things. classes later, it’s finally recess when you met up with ningning and yangyang in the cafeteria.

“first of all, cut him off. block him. everywhere,” yangyang emphasized the last word, knowing how much of an idiot the guy can be. you just scrolled through your socials, double tapping on certain posts that caught your eye. owning a cat looks fun, you made a mental note to bring the idea to your parents later. the bell rang which signals that classes are starting back soon and the same cycle of events continues before it’s time to go home.

you observed yangyang’s sharp moves, following to the beat of the song echoing in the dance room. it’s currently half past seven and he’s still here, beads of sweat running through his hair. and why would he stay in school so late, you may ask? obviously, he’s here for a reason and it being an upcoming dance tournament is the most accurate one. while you’re here, sitting on the floor, back against the mirror and legs straightened out with your phone in your hand. it amazes you how the goofy boy transforms 360°, being all serious when he’s in his element.

“let’s go home, i’m tired already,” he panted out breathlessly, using a cloth nearby to wipe his sweaty forehead. you wait for him by the glass door as he packs up his things when the lights in the music studio also switched off. you wondered it must be the band guys so you paid no attention whatsoever. of course, your predictions were right when you saw two lads stepping out.

since yangyang is taking too much time tidying up the dance studio and the music studio seems unoccupied, you decided to check it out for a bit. it’s been a long time since you last entered the room, always accompanying your sister for her extra practice when you were younger. not much has changed, except some additions of instruments can be seen. not seeing anything in the dark condition as the room is only illuminated by the faint lights from the hallway, you pushed the switches down only to be met by a gasp.

“what are you doing here?” the tall boy approached you, a stern look visible on his fine features. your eyes scrambled around the room in an attempt to find any logical excuses for your ‘break-in’ but to no avail. your tongue was dry, not a sound escaping your throat when you heard yangyang’s voice, signalling your cue to exit the room and escape from the tension building between you and the boy. he just shook his head, the black hair bouncing left to right as he finally caught on.

it’s you, you’re the girl from the crowd. and your name is y/n.

the walk home was filled with one-sided conversations where yangyang kept on babbling about how he should improve the choreography he created earlier while you only added small comments. your mind is filled with embarrassment, too much that you feel slightly mad at yourself. why didn’t you say anything earlier? now, you look like a complete idiot with communication issues in front of that boy.

“yeah, and remember that pasta? we should definitely try it again, it’s like, so good,” yangyang said, earning a nod from you when you saw the boy from last night’s music studio tragedy approaching your table. you tried to look away but it was too late.

“dude, just wanna let you know that mr. park is seeing us after school,” your grip on your fork loosens up when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. maybe he forgot about the incident? you really hope so.

“yeah, totally. thanks sicheng,” yangyang playfully winked at the latter, earning a disgusted look from him who started walking away. he glanced back at you with a smug smile on his plump lips, making you freeze up again.

he didn’t.

“are you okay, y/n? feeling sick?” ningning furrowed her eyebrows upon seeing your sudden change of demeanor. you shrugged her off and continued to consume the macaroni placed on the tray in front of you, mentally cursing at yourself for the poor life choice you’d made. well, at least you know that his name is sicheng, right?

oh boy, you’re in for a long ride.

you can’t wait to go home and snuggle under the covers, today has been a long and tiring one for you. you had three pop quizzes as if all the three teachers intended so, your class had to run multiple laps during p.e. and so on. you’re already planning your routine in your head, trudging your way to the lockers when you saw him leaning against yours, scrolling down his phone.

“crap,” you muttered under your breath.

there it is, the smirk on his face returns when he spots your figure approaching. oh, how you wish you could wipe it off his face. he moved a couple steps backwards to give you some space to arrange your things before locking it, turning your head towards him.

“i’m sorry, why are you here again? and if it’s because of last night, then i’m sorry if it bothered you or anything,” you huffed out.

“what? i didn’t really care, it’s not like you were stealing anything, right?” he squinted his eyes, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, laughing shortly after seeing you get riled up.

“damn, you really need to learn how to take a joke. y/n, right? i’m sicheng, nice to meet you.”

“why exactly are we having this meet-and-greet or whatever this introduction is?” you crossed your arms, waiting for his response. but he didn’t, immediately turning on his heels and making his way towards the stairs, probably going to the studio.

“jerk,” you cursed under your breath, walking out the school building.

“what? you got accepted? seriously?” ningning’s voice echoed against the cafeteria walls, earning surprised and annoyed glances from other students who were either satisfying their grumbling stomach or simply having conversations. yangyang softly nudged her elbows using his, asking her to lower her voice down before telling you to go on. you were quite surprised as well, the acceptance email was not what you expected to receive. when you filled in the application form, it was just a mere shoot-your-shot agenda to see if you’d make the cut. although this is just a camp, you’re still unsure of what lies ahead.

“yeah, it starts next week. but i’m so nervous though,” you sipped the iced coffee in your hands. you’ve only watched videos of people producing their own music from scratch which you start to take an interest in. however, you’ve never done it hands-on before, only having basic music theory knowledge thanks to the piano lessons your parents signed you up for when you were young.

“you’ll do awesome, i promise,” yangyang gave you a reassuring smile, making you release some tension from the overthinking you’ve had since you received the email last night.

“thanks yang.”

now, here you are on the first day of attending the internship camp. you stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, straightening your cardigan and applying some makeup onto your face as touch-ups. it’s currently 7:40 in the morning, the earliest time you’ve ever woken up on a saturday. your siblings are still swallowed in their states of sleep. you double-checked the contents in your tote bag, making sure that no important things are left behind. you totally don’t intend on leaving a bad first impression on your first day.

after bidding a swift goodbye to your parents who just woke up, you drove your mother’s old honda to the completely new destination - mbyte studios. the tall building with light grey and blue painted walls definitely made it stand out, a futuristic look catching the eyes of the passersby. taking a deep breath, you entered the main lobby before being escorted to a room on the second floor. you assume it’s a waiting room for all participants of the camp, scanning that majority of the occupiers might be college students. you thanked god that the camp takes place on weekends so your high school senior life won’t be interrupted that much.

DAY 1

your eyes widened when you spot sicheng with the same white and blue tag you’re wearing, seated on the sofa. what the hell is he doing here? you avoided acknowledging his presence, trying to make yourself as unnoticed as possible heading over to occupy the seat farthest from his. after quite some time staring at the paintings hanging on the wall, a middle-aged lady with a petite figure entered the room, making you sit up straight.

“welcome to mbyte studios! i’m the assistant director, mrs. hwang. first and foremost, congratulations on being accepted. it’ a pleasure to witness the start of your musical journey embarking here. i believe that we should know each other first?” she gestured for any volunteers. sicheng stood up from his seat, charisma evident in his stance which left quite an impression on the others. the strong confidence in the way he speaks made the woman smile amusingly.

some names later, it was your turn to introduce yourself. the moment you stood up, he immediately recognized you and you were sure you caught him making some faces. the ice-breaking session went well thankfully, mrs. hwang elaborating on the social rules and the itinerary throughout the whole six days. one that caught your attention was assisting the producers on making a track from scratch, just like you had dreamed of.

when it was finally time for lunch break, you shot up from your seat to get away from sicheng as fast as possible but to your dismay, he beat you to it, jogging up towards your standing position.

“i didn’t know you were into music, what’s the sudden occasion?”

“it’s none of your business actually,” you sneered back, obviously not favouring his attention.

“woah, relax. you’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? by the way, we’re having lunch together,” he placed his phone onto a nearby table, pulling a chair for you.

“just eat on your own, i don’t have the appetite,” you flash a sarcastic grin before disappearing into the women’s restroom. he just laughed bitterly at your response before walking towards the food counter, joining his newly made friend, jaehyun. being the same age, they’re easy to click.

DAY 2

“today, we’ll be focusing on the recording process. you’ll be assigned into groups that will have a tour of the whole department. our staff will facilitate each group,” the manager said loud and clear. you remembered his name was johnny. the tattoo on his shoulder really stands out, considering the fact that he’s always wearing a sleeveless shirt.

but what are the odds when your groupmate is none other than the guy himself, sicheng. it’s like the universe truly resented you for having to be associated with him at any event. your group was escorted to the farthest recording studio on the floor. to say that this was a great experience is truly an understatement, making you observe the gears used in astonishment. you hate to admit it but sicheng has a handful of knowledge on this particular topic, always correctly answering the questions directed by the staff. maybe it wasn’t quite surprising upon knowing that his career choice is a singer, not that you care anyways.

again, nothing out of the ordinary happened today, except that you and sicheng had lunch on the same table. of course, it’s not that you accepted his offer but he welcomed himself to the spot. being the quickly favoured participant among the rest, obviously they welcomed him with open hands. he placed himself among the two guys sitting at the right corner, eyeing you whose eyes are still not leaving the article you were skimming through. with the last spoon of food shoved into your mouth, you quietly excused yourself from the group. sicheng just watched your movements in subtle signs of annoyance.

with the final task of doing microphone check-ups, day two of the camp ended with a breeze. you can’t wait to go home, get into a warm bath and spend the night watching netflix. it was a tiring one indeed but you’re not one to complain. pushing the car keys into the ignition slot, the sound of the engine starting is still nowhere to be heard even after a couple of retries. you rested your forehead onto the steering wheel, cursing silently in your head, having to get a taxi and call your mother about this incident. you’re sure to be receiving a handful from her, not to mention her soft but stingful remarks.

“hey, are you okay?” a deep voice interrupts your stressful state of mind. looking up, it’s sicheng with a concerned look on display. you hesitantly shared your problem, making him press his lips together probably thinking of a solution.

“you know, i don’t really know how to fix your broken engine or whatever but i know someone who can. let me just ring him for a sec. and you’re coming home with me.”

and that’s how you ended up in the front passenger seat, sicheng steering with one hand and the other rested on the windowsill. the faint music from the radio can be heard, probably a song by jon vinyl. you’d steal quick glances to see his other hand dancing in the air, enjoying the rhythm of the song playing. besides that, it was silent as both of you are preoccupied with your own things - sicheng on the road while you on your phone. he tried to make small talk but you would say it’s unrequited, only replying with short sentences. after a good ten minutes drive, the sight of your brown painted gate becomes a sign for him to stop the moving car.

“your car is safe with my friend so you shouldn’t worry about it or anything. also, what’s your number? it’ll be easier for, you know the car business of course,” he reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, handing over his phone to you after. the close proximity made your breath hitch, the dewy scent of his perfume diffusing into your nose. not too strong, he has a good taste.

“thanks and um, i’ll buy you a drink later. just for today.”

“are you asking me on a date?” there it is, the significant tug on the side of his lips making its presence once again.

“stop being so narcissistic and move along please,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a small wave, stepping into your property. sicheng stared at the numerals on his phone screen, a small, proud grin etched on before driving off the lane.

“how was the camp? met any cute boys?” the first thing you hear in the hue of the blue monday morning is ningning’s chirpy voice. sometimes you wonder how she gets all boosted up at this hour of the day. yangyang is the polar opposite, his appearance as if he just got out of bed, the hood of his denim jacket resting on top of his auburn hair.

“it was good and no, no cute boys. but sicheng was there,” you replied nonchalantly, a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. you can almost predict the words that are going to spill out of her mouth.

“what’s up with her?” yangyang yawned, his eyes lazily gaze at you. you just lifted your shoulders, having no idea whatsoever. a ping sound was heard from your phone, notifying that a new message is received.

unknown: hey sicheng here

unknown: ur car may be ready tmr. want me to drive u there?

listening to your heart, you were about to type ‘no’ but remembering the fact that your parents will be busy the whole day tomorrow and yangyang is coming home late once again, you have no choice but to accept the lad’s help.

now you’re back in his vehicle, the same spot as before. you’ve only noticed now that a musical note charm is hung on the rearview mirror, a semiquaver to be exact. you’d say that it looks authentic, gold specks shining when sun rays hit the surface. observing the interior of his car, there are quite a number of small decorations.

“can we get coffee first? my treat for the car and the ride,” you suggested, looking at him whose eyes are focused onto the road. the traffic is quite pleasing today, nobody honking mindlessly at the other drivers and flipping each other off with the famous middle finger gesture. his side profile does look charming, some type of earrings dangling from his ears. if you’re going to be honest, his appearance does seem to be your type. you’re not one to say about his persona though, always managing to bother you at any time of the day.

“sure, wanna go to the new cafe? i heard it’s good,”. you just nodded while he skillfully steered the steering wheel, moving the car to the new destination. you turned your eyes to look outside from the car window, seeing the one hundred and one manners of the citizens. a mother struggling to take her child who’s having a tantrum out of the toy shop, a young couple having their romantic meal in the french cafe. the motion of the car stopping awakened you who was being distracted by your clouded mind.

from the moment you stepped into the place, the interior caught your attention. the light brown painted walls with black furniture complementing each other perfectly, making a retro-like appearance. the funky song playing faintly in the background surely is a mood-setter, just how you like it. even the barista serving you is being friendly, making a couple of small talk in the midst of operating the machines.

you would say that it was a pleasureful day for you. the exquisite taste of latte washing down your dry throat, getting your car back without too much babbling from your dear mother and the gap between you and sicheng closing in for a little.

the last sentence baffled you for a second.

DAY 3

sicheng’s eyes shot open from the short slumber he was trying to get - failing miserably even, upon spotting you enter through the door. he pulled the chair beside him in hopes for you to get his message and take the seat. a frown made its way onto his face when you just waved at him, making your way to another spot a few chairs to the front. he scoffed, head tilting slightly before approaching you instead. you shot him a puzzled look, roughly translating to ask him what he’s doing here.

“i just want to be close to you. now focus,” he redirected his eyes onto the muscular man who just entered the room. he’s a songwriter - the best one in this company to be exact. you were focused on each point he explained, making small notes on your laptop. it’s not always that you’ll get a chance to be guided by a four-time award winning songwriter, might as well gain some benefits from it.

“another tip i have is to use all types of chords. remember, do not stick to the same ones, you’ll lack creativity. for instance, use major, minor, dominant, diminished, and augmented. i promise you, more ideas will be flowing and better quality songs will be produced. you got me?” the questioned, earning buzzing sounds of positive responses from the hall.

DAY 4

another day of group work, you’re given the task to create a melody according to the themes given - for your group, it’s love. looking at sicheng, he’s already on his electric guitar, strumming mindlessly to find the perfect note to start on. the rest of you are now juicing out some thoughts on this particular sense of human nature.

“love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all,” jaehyun suggests, earning nods of approval from the rest of your groupmates.

“you’re a pro at this, mr. romantic,” you teased him, earning a soft chuckle. a dimpled smile is etched onto his features, rosy cheeks and his eye smile making you fawn. prince-like visual and a sense of humour? a two in one package, totally.

“not really. i guess i’m a sucker for romance movies,” he rubbed the back of his neck. your small conversation came to a halt when you heard a crooked, loud sound coming from the rough strum on the guitar strings. you turned around to see sicheng gazing directly towards the both of you, a sharp one even. jaehyun just blinked his eyes before catching onto the situation unfolding in front of him while you’re still being completely oblivious. you tilted your head in confusion, unsure of what’s gotten into him.

it’s the day that yangyang has been looking forward to since the past few weeks, his dance tournament. you’re seated with ningning on the bleachers, music from the loudspeakers echoing through the walls. with the cheers of the bewatchers whenever someone captivated them with a trick or dance move, usually the risky ones, it truly is a loud atmosphere.

“now, welcoming contestant number 43 to take the stage,” the host announced, you and ningning clapped with all your might, shouting words of encouragement as well. yangyang took a deep breath before lifting his right hand up, cueing for the music to start playing. just then, there’s the sound of someone plopping down on the hard surface next to you - sicheng. he’s looking casual today, a light yellow hoodie replacing his usual dark clothings.

“what are you doing here?” you shout whispered while ningning raised her eyebrows at you.

“didn’t yangyang tell you? i’m here to watch him dance,” he countered your question before darting his eyes back to the boy who’s busy popping on the dance floor, tinashe’s song playing in the background. he ended his routine with a moonwalk, making his way to the end of the stage. you’re confident that he’s going to win the competition, looking at how precise and clean his moves were. all the late night practices he had eventually paid off when he’s announced as the second placer. nonetheless, he’s still proud of himself, not to mention you and ningning who have been with him throughout his whole journey.

“you did well,” sicheng welcomed him with a fist bump which he reciprocated back. you didn’t know that they were this good of friends.

“i’m starving,” he rubbed his hand onto his stomach, making you remember that your stomach has been rumbling since you only ate a cereal bar that morning. you were about to catch up to yangyang and ningning who were walking fast ahead when you felt a tug on your shirt, looking down to see sicheng crouching down to tie your loose shoelaces.

“you might fall,” he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodies, waiting for you to come along.

“um, thanks,” you muttered out before catching the glances given by your friends, later teasing you about the scene.

roars of students can be heard coherently, filling the basketball court. the basketball captain, a tall one with black charcoal hair is shooting a three-pointer. the players are then called over to their respective sides for whatever strategy their coaches will be implementing in the third-quarter. the home team is currently leading by five points, knowing that the players wearing the significant red and black jersey have been training their asses off for a while now.

but why exactly did you come to the game tonight? besides from the main event happening in the moment, the other reason is now standing in his position, strumming his electric guitar producing a funky sound that vibrates through the walls - a cue for the start of another buzzing stage. sicheng has been bugging you about watching him perform tonight and after quite some time evaluating, why not? when he finally caught you among the crowd, he flashed you a flirtatious wink. right before the band bowed as gratitude to the audience, he gave you a gesture to wait for him at the back of the gym.

“you came! but seriously, thank you,” he rested the sparkly white guitar against the wall, enveloping you into a hug. this is new, you tried to hide the flustered state of yours as you reciprocated his movement. from the corner of your eyes, you can see a black-haired guy approaching the two of you, followed by one with long, white hair and a bandana nicely keeping the fluffy strands in tact.

“ooh, who’s this?” the first one wiggled his eyebrows, later introducing himself as guanheng, the latter named yuta. to your surprise, the bond between you and them are quick to form with guanheng piloting the conversation. not to mention his subtle jokes making you giggle at times.

“well y/n, your little boyfriend here is getting jealous so we’ll excuse ourselves for now. see you whenever,” guanheng banging his drumsticks into the air while yuta gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the store room of the gymnasium. the nickname they gave sicheng surely made you a bit shy.

boyfriend?

DAY 5

you’re seated in front of the computer screen, your chin resting on the palm of your hands and the tabs of different colours left untouched. you redirected your gaze onto the projector screen, the words ‘arrange, mix, edit and master like a pro’ on it. a long sigh leaving your lips, you try to remember what the producer said earlier.

don’t make the song sound too repetitive

a good buildup promises a good melody

you can have a certain instrument playing only on one part for cinematic impact

DAY 6

“i’m hyo and you’re,” she moved the wheels of her chair to the back a bit to take another look at the clipboard resting on the desk, “sicheng, y/n and jaehyun, right?” the three of you nodded in harmony, anticipating for the next order that will be given.

“okay cool, we’ll be brainstorming first,” and she proceeded to explain what the requirements for this project are. you mouthed out the important points she gave, soft rock, heartbreak and drums. you’re on a roll today, contributing your countless ideas during the first few minutes of the discussion. sicheng just looked at you discussing with hyo, your lips pursed slightly. his gaze seems full of adoration, even jaehyun said so.

“any objections?” hyo looked over to the rest.

“i think she made some great ones. i’m sure this project will come out fresh,” jaehyun voiced out his opinions, sicheng nodding after. he went straight to handling the instruments , you and jaehyun collaborating for the mixing process. hyo eventually chimed in on some times, giving small advice whenever you seem stuck in the brain. with the hours ticking by, you’re feeling more satisfied than ever with your earphones in, listening to the final product created.

all of the participants are then assembled in the hall again, waiting for a final speech by the director which formalizes the end of the camp. sure, you’ve earned worthy knowledge throughout the six days. but if you’re being brutally true to the sound of your heart, it would be how you came to learn sicheng’s true antics. he might be the cocky guy who thinks they have the power to do anything but in truth, he’s just some guy with an honest heart, honest intentions to know you better.

summer break, your most anticipated event for the past few weeks. the moment the last bell rang, that scene in high school musical 2 kept replaying in the back of your head, the students doing a parade in front of the lockers picturing how your little heart is doing backflips in your chest right now. all the beach trips ningning planned is making you feel dizzy. you turned around to a voice calling out your name from the end of the hallway, your eyes catching the sight of sicheng jogging towards your spot. he stopped in front of you, hands on his knees catching his breath.

“are you free tomorrow night? there’s a party at guanheng’s and you know, it would be really cool if you join,” his fingers tracing onto each other, waiting patiently for your response.

you didn’t even have the time to process his invitation when ningning crashed her body against yours, yangyang following suit.

“a party? y/n would totally love to come, right?” ningning nudged your arms softly while yangyang tried to stifle a giggle. you were about to mouth out a ‘what?’ before sicheng cut you off.

“cool, you guys should come too. tomorrow at 10,” he and yangyang exchanged finger guns gestures before leaving the three of you. you just stood there in disbelief, eyeing them up and down before ningning dragged you to the parking lot. a stringful of grumbles escaped your lips, making the guy laugh obnoxiously.

“i can’t believe you guys did that,” you extended the seat belt, buckling it to the slot beside you.

“please. but you do want it, right?” you can’t deny, what she said was true. plus, you should have some fun and distress before having to go back to the usual dull routine of yours.

“how do i look?” you turn around, revealing the baby pink crop top and flare pants on your legs. it’s not your best outfit but giving the cliche excuse - you have nothing to wear, the two articles totally complements each other

“you look hot, that’s all i gotta say. right, yang?” ningning lifted her head from the headboard, glancing over at yangyang who’s going over his messages.

“yeah totally,” he lifted his hands, giving you a thumbs up. you threw a jacket onto your shoulders and grabbed the black purse on your dresser, glancing at the wall mirror one last time.

from the moment you stepped into the venue - guanheng’s place, smells of alcohol lingered around your nose, a group of people cheering ever so loudly over a game of beer pong, some already passed out on the couch. not to mention a brownish stain on the carpet - probably from someone throwing up. the mess would take a whole day to get rid off, you note to yourself. your friends are no longer to be found, both of them getting affiliated with god knows what. your eyes scanned the living room for sicheng but his presence is still nowhere to be found.

you decided to step towards the kitchen bar, pouring a drink for yourself. the mixed sweet and sour taste of it remained on your tongue for a couple of seconds. looking over at the snacks served, you grabbed a strawberry flavoured lollipop from the clear bowl. the crowd is cheering loudly for some type of incident happening at the back of the room, the music has been turned up to be a little louder than the volume before and you’re suddenly getting a little bit overwhelmed. you grabbed your purse and stepped out, inhaling some fresh air and looking up to the starry night sky.

“y/n? where have you been?” sicheng approached you from behind, making you a bit startled.

“sorry, hanging out outside can calm me. where did you go?” you popped the lollipop into your mouth.

“some jerk decided to throw up in front of me,” you pinched your nose with a disgusted expression, making him roll his eyes.

“do you want me to accompany you out here?” he offered. you just nod your head, placing yourself on the patio with him following suit. the sweetening flavour empowering your senses. it’s definitely much more calm out here, allowing you to clear up your mind. it’s not that you hate the atmosphere in the house right now, you’re just not in the mood.

“you know, you look pretty,” you turned around to meet his face. his brown eyes brimming with unconfessed love.

“shut up, stop with the jokes,” you lightly land a smack on his arms.

“what if i say i’m not joking?” he looked straight into your eyes, trying to find any emotion inside you. the sudden seriousness is making you feel much more awkward so you forced out a laugh, turning your attention right back upwards. the stars are shining brightly tonight, you can almost spot a constellation.

“i know what you’re doing, dong sicheng. just stop it already, it’s not working on me.” denial, that’s what you’re experiencing in the hot minute.

a gentle tug can be felt on your wrist, his eyes still not leaving yours.

“didn’t anyone tell you before? you’re really pretty. like, i can’t even describe it to you. you’re just,” he leaned over to caress your cheeks, “pretty,”.

what jaehyun said on the other day is true, after all.

love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all.

your heart is beating so fast, it could fall out of your chest at any moment now. even the faint music blasting through the speakers inside the house can’t flush down the sound of your heartbeat. you’re not used to this, the sudden need of the significant skin to skin contact that symbolizes love between two individuals.

“can i?” his face in a very near proximity from yours, whispering into your right ear with his honey-like voice. you pulled the candy away from your mouth and nod, giving him the approval he needed before he dived in. heat rose from your stomach to your chest. you could only focus on how soft his crimson lips felt on yours, invading your privacy by all senses. you felt the kiss expand beyond your bodies, whirling you round, swirling you into the stars. he pulled away with a soft smile, you thought you could melt right then and there.

“wow,” that was the only word escaping your throat. your jumping heart still hasn’t settled down yet, your very first kiss still feeling surreal. you could see that sicheng is very much mirroring your emotions, his slender fingers grazing over his lips - the one that has come in contact with yours.

“the strawberry lollipop is sweet,” he commented, making the both of you laugh.

a ping from your phone awakened you from the gushy eye contact with him, unlocking it only to find yangyang’s text message. the second part of it made you fluster.

yang: yo r u coming in or what? and congrats for the kiss, we thought we’d have to wait longer for this

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield 4

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 3: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/654100310923657216/sword-and-shield-3

Warnings: mentions of a rough past, otherwise none.

4: Learning Process

Closing your eyes and taking in a breath, you straightened and opened the door to the common space. You forced yourself not to freeze as you saw all four of them gathered in the room, turning to stare at you.

“Should you be up?” Tech instantly asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shuffled into the room, then sat down on an empty chair, pulling your legs up. Looking down at your knees, you tugged at the sleeve over the arm that had been injured.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the tense silence.

“Why are you apologizing?” Hunter turned to you with an odd fierceness in his voice. “You kept Tech and I from getting badly injured or even killed at your own expense, but you’re apologizing? If anything, we should be apologizing to you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide. For a moment, you tried to scoop up your scattered thoughts. “N-no,” you finally tried to stammer, trying to explain. “I- I’m- I got distracted, I- I made a mistake,” you confessed, taking in a burning breath. “Back in the vault room, I- I should have been paying attention, but I thought- I thought I’d done something wrong. I got distracted, and I should have- I should have been faster. If I’d been paying attention like I should have, we could have gotten out in time and- and-“

“What in nine Corellian hells are you talking about, Shiv?” Hunter demanded, staring at you incredulously. “What do you mean you did something wrong?”

You swallowed thickly. “You- you seemed angry, and I- I thought I’d done something wrong. I’m not- I wasn’t completely attuned to you and got distracted. I should have been quicker to find a solution, but I- I got distracted and-“ You bit your lip, frustrated at your own inability to just explain. “I could have paid attention and avoided getting anyone injured,” you whispered, looking down.

A silence fell over the room. Then Hunter let out a deep sigh. “Shiv, it’s my fault.”

Startled, you looked up at him. “Wh-“

He raised a hand, hushing you from protesting. “I was the one who distracted you. As your leader, and as... as the one who was... who was Bonded with you at the time, I shouldn’t have done something to distract or disorient you. I wasn’t mad at you, Shiv,” he said evenly, looking at you with his dark eyes. “You did everything I could have asked and more. You sacrificed your own body just to keep Tech and I from being injured. Why would I be angry with you?”

Despite yourself, tears welled in your eyes as you reached up to futilely swipe away tears. He... wasn’t angry? You knew that the 501st had been... very kind, compared to many of your previous Handlers. And you had barely realized it, but you’d automatically defaulted back to expecting the same treatment you’d always endured before the 501st had taught you differently. Yet here you were, not being punished for getting distracted.

Hunching up, you dug a palm into your eye and trembled with the effort of holding back the sobs of relief, the dull pain in your arm reminding you of your failure. “I’m sorry,” you gasped, “I- I shouldn’t be crying, I-“

You let out a gasp as you felt two giant arms wrap around you, pulling your into a surprisingly gentle hug. Looking up, you saw Wrecker’s face looking down at you.

“Hey, I thought you looked really cool out there, Shiv,” he said, voice more subdued than usual, though still pretty loud. But you appreciated the effort he seemed to be making to keep you calm. “I mean, there was that huge blast and it was super cool, and you saved the Sarge and Tech.” He grinned down at you, weathered face lighting up.

Despite yourself, you let out a little giggle at the goofy grin on his face as he recalled the blast. Sniffling, you tried to wipe away tears and focus. “Th-thank you, Wrecker,” you whispered with an exhausted smile.

He carefully set you down, and Hunter gave him a nod. “I was going to thank you for keeping us safe out there, Shiv. I understand if this incident makes you want to leave the team, but-“

“No!” You bit your lip, but shook your head adamantly. “Please, I-“ You looked down at your feet. “I’d like to stay, if you’ll... if you’ll give me another chance.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Shiv,” Hunter reiterated fiercely. “I don’t know what made you think that you did anything wrong, but I’m not angry with you.” He took in a deep breath. “Do you need any medical attention to your arm? We don’t really know... enough about you.”

You shook your head. “No, I-“ You rubbed your arm absently, still coated in the metal. “It will heal,” you said uncertainly, glancing over to the side uncomfortably. Normally people didn’t.... care if you got hurt. “Please, I can still... I can still function just fine.”

“Why do you talk like you’re some kind of slave?” Crosshair stared at you, eyes piercing.

You flinched. “I used to be,” you replied thinly, hanging your head. “Before... before the 501st took me in.”

A dead silence fell, and you could almost feel the anger palpably fill the air.

“So that’s why you-“ Hunter seemed to stop himself, breaking off. A snarl crossed his lips, then just as quickly disappeared. He let out a heavy sigh. “Shiv, you’re not a slave here, with us. You’re not just a weapon. You’re our teammate, one of us, and you’re a valuable member. You don’t have to sacrifice your own health or safety just because you feel some stupid need to or because you’re any less valuable than us.”

You listened, still fixated on the floor. You remembered the first time that Rex had given you this talk as well. Now things began to make more sense. Why Hunter had seemed angry, back in the bunker. Because he’d been like Rex, you now understood. He’d been upset that you’d called yourself a tool. He was upset about how you’d been treated.

It still felt odd to you, to realize that there were people out in the world that would see you as more than just a weapon. It was still hard to accept. Hard to grasp.

“Thank you,” you said at last, looking up at him. “I... Commander Rex and the 501st... were very kind to me and I-“ you winced. “Once I left, I... I went back to my old ways. I’m... I’m used to being nothing more than a tool. I was born a weapon. I... I’m used to being expendable.”

“You’re not expendable here. You’re not just a weapon here.” Hunter’s eyes bored into you, staring you down. “Don’t expect us to treat you as anything less than a person.”

You looked up, then, and gave him a genuine if tired smile. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you and Tech are safe. I’ll do my best in the future to continue being a good teammate.”

He nodded curtly. “We’re going to drop off the intel we got at the next stop and let you get a bit of rest. We haven’t been assigned to anything yet.”

You looked around at everyone. “Um- should I start to... I mean, should I be prepared to start working with everyone? It might be best before the next mission to at least have Transference with everyone, so that I can easily be passed between everyone even in the middle of battle.”

“Do you have any sort of compiled profile about yourself?” Tech asked curiously.

You grimaced. “I tried that before, but everyone who’s tried to understand by reading has said that it’s not... enough. I can give it to you if you want, I should have it, but I’ve been told that while it’s informative, it’s not very useful until it’s been experienced.”

Tech nodded. “I’d still like to have a copy, if you don’t mind.”

You nodded. “Of course.” Fumbling with one hand, you tried to grab your datapad from it’s charging port. After a moment, you managed to grab it and pull up the correct page, handing it to Tech.

“Sorry, I- I won’t have full use of my other hand for another couple of chrons at the least,” you explained, pushing hair away from your eyes.

“Just take care of it until you’re not hurting yourself,” Hunter ordered, eyeing your arm sharply. “Are you sure you don’t need at lest a bacta patch?”

You smiled weakly, shaking your head. “It will heal more quickly without it, in this case. Bacta seems to leave scars on me more than letting it heal naturally. Although in an emergency I’ll use it.”

He just nodded. “We’ll be landing at the next designated spot in seven chrons.” Without another word, he ducked out the door and left, presumably to the cockpit to pilot.

“Hey Shiv, you wanna sit here?” Wrecker patted the empty spot next to him invitingly.

You hesitated, then decided to accept. After all, you’d have to get to know all of them pretty well, right? Might as well start now. Gingerly, you sat next to him, favoring your arm a little. The more you let it be, the quicker it would heal, you knew. Pulling your legs up, you leaned back in the seat, almost touching Wrecker’s side.

He casually draped his arm around the back of the chair, behind your shoulders, though not touching you. “Is this okay, Shiv?”

Startled, you blinked but nodded. “Oh- of course.”

He grinned. “Good. Wouldn’t want to make ya uncomfortable, ya know?”

“Thank you,” you whispered shyly, head ducking.

A little kernel of hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe... maybe this would be a place where you could belong.

~

Tech examined your arm closely, peering at it through your goggles. “Whoa. It’s almost completely healed,” he said wonderingly. There was some scar tissue still on your arm, but it was a far cry from the mangled mess it had been when you’d first gotten the wound.

“Is it because of the metal?” Hunter asked, glancing at your arm.

You shook your head as Tech let go of your arm. “Um, no, the metal is there mainly for protection and sterilization. My biology is not... entirely organic, so it fixes itself differently,” you offered awkwardly. “I don’t completely understand it either, as my kind is... extremely rare. I’ve only met one other of my kind.”

“So there are others.” Tech glanced up at you from his datapad. He’d apparently read the profile you’d compiled and had peppered you with questions once you’d woken up.

“I don’t know how many.” You shrugged. “Probably not very many though. We’ve been... pretty heavily enslaved or used. Worked to death, essentially.”

Hunter just grunted. Crosshair let out a quiet huff from his corner where he was polishing his rifle. Wrecker was off in the galley, getting a snack apparently.

You’d apparently slept through the drop off, and when you’d woken up you’d been informed that you had a couple of chrons left before you reached the place Hunter had decided you would train with the rest of the team. He’d made some notes to Tech about the Bonding Process from his experience, which Tech had added and already distributed to the other team members.

When you finally arrived at your destination, you felt rested and mentally and physically ready. Your arm was almost healed and no longer hurt, and you knew that it would heal fully in time for the next mission, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it being reopened somehow or interfering. A damaged weapon wouldn’t be of much help in any situation.

Following the others down the ramp, you looked around interestedly at the wide, open plains littered with some rock formations. In the distance shimmered the water of a lake, and hardy grasses waved in the slight breeze. It was a good place to train, with no one in sight and a wide line of sight. You turned your attention back to Hunter, who led the way away from the ship a safe distance before turning.

“Alright.” He nodded to you. “Is there a specific order that we should do this in?”

You shook your head. “Anything works.”

“I can go first,” Wrecker offered, stepping forward. He grinned at you excitedly, and you instinctively smiled back. You appreciated the way Wrecker had treated you so far, the way he was cheerful and smiling but also thoughtful in the way he approached you.

“That alright, Shiv?” Hunter addressed you.

You nodded, stepping forward to meet Wrecker. “Sure.”

“Alright Wrecker, do you remember the process?” Hunter asked.

Wrecker’s smile dropped, eyebrows furrowing and mouth opening a little in clear thought.

You stifled a smile. “Keep your mind open towards whatever you feel. You have to start the process by offering me your hand and saying ‘Permission to Transfer,’” you reminded.

“Oh, right!” He laughed, then stuck out his hand. “Permission to Transfer,” he bellowed.

You took his hand, closing your eyes. “Transfer Granted.”

Wrecker was the easiest Transfer you could remember in a long time. He was so unguarded mentally towards you, his thoughts blasting. They were coherent and clearly linked, just... loud, and fast. You found yourself taking a bit longer to settle into the Bond, stabilizing the flow of information and ‘tuning in’ to his mental frequency.

By the time you could focus outward, you realized with a bit of surprise that you’d actually automatically become an IWS in instant response to Wrecker’s preferences. Wrecker let out a pure, joyful laugh, then aimed at a nearby rock formation and sent a rocket hurtling towards it. He whooped in the aftermath of the explosion, effortlessly tossing you in the air and catching you as though you barely weighed anything.

You had to smile a little, materializing over his shoulder. You leaned your chin against his shoulder, quickly getting comfortable with the steady stream of information he kept feeding over the Bond as naturally as though he had been doing it for years. Weapons seemed to be something that came to Wrecker naturally, as well as using them. You found yourself fading away and falling into a comfortable, natural rhythm as he did a little target practice. His weapons of choice were pretty standard, and you even got to Shift into some lesser used heavy weaponry.

It was comfortable, to just lean back and be fed information in a steady, constant stream. Wrecker’s weapon handling was expert, though to others it might seem that he just randomly moved and fired. But you could see the natural nuances that he used to sight, aim, lift, and fire.

Wrecker stopped after a couple of weapons. “This is really easy, Shiv!” He laughed. “You doing ok? I can kinda feel ya there.”

You let yourself shimmer into view again, comfortably rested against his shoulder. Your voice came out wispy and almost dreamy, a reflection of your mental state.

“You’re very natural with being a Handler,” you murmured, hands sliding over his shoulder. Shadowy fingers trailed down his arm, brushing against his armor. “It’s very comfortable and... relaxed.” You giggled, feeling a little loopy from the giddiness that he kept pouring over the Bond. “Your thoughts are... constant, fast.”

“Oh, uh... I guess that’s a good thing?” Wrecker scratched the back of his head.

You Dissolved the Transference, landing next to Wrecker. Reaching up, you rubbed your eyes and blinked a little sleepily, letting out a wide yawn.

“Yea,” you slurred, shaking your head. “Sorry, it’s...” You gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re a very natural Handler. I’m feeling a bit high,” you giggled. “I’m very.... I tend to be influenced quite a bit by my Handlers’ emotions.”

Wrecker steadied you. “Glad to hear it! It felt really comfortable.” He shrugged. “It felt different from what you said, Sarge,” he remarked thoughtfully.

“It’s a bit different for everyone,” you said, starting to recover your senses. Shaking your head, you took in a bracing breath and looked up. “I’m ready.”

Tech hesitantly stepped forward. “I can go-?”

You nodded, stepping toward him.

He took in a deep breath. “Permission to Transfer.” He held out his hand, a determined look on his face.

You took his hand. “Transfer Granted.”

The moment you felt the Bond click into place, you mentally reeled. It was a barrage of... everything. Tech’s mind was constantly whirling, moving through thoughts, processing things, almost a nervous babble of information. You tried to process, to find a way to join the stream that rushed on and on, thoughts disappearing as quickly as they came.

Calm down, Tech, you whispered, trying to infuse a sense of relaxation into the words. There’s no need to be nervous. There’s no perfect way of Transference. It’s up to me to assimilate to you, to learn about you. Just be yourself. It’s just me... just Shiv.

You could feel Tech let out a breath, and the stream seemed to slacken a little. Just enough for you to ease yourself in, to begin to process and adjust to the new stream-of-consciousness. Tech’s thoughts ran into each other seamlessly, one thought clearly linked to the next. He had both visualization as well as full words and sentences, something you recognized as being a sign of Tech’s proficiency in using both sides of the brain equally.

You prefer double blasters, right? You recalled.

A tentative thought slithered its way through the stream as you picked it out. Yes... is that... possible?

You smiled. You are my Handler, now. Slowly, you let yourself shimmer into view. Sliding your hands down both his arms, you turned to whisper into his ear. What do you need me to be?

Tech stared down at both his hands, and between one blink and the next, he was grasping another blaster in his left hand. He offered a few schematics and modifications, letting you quickly adjust. Then turning, he focused on some rubble that Wrecker had created and began to pick them off, one by one. A few of the initial shots missed, but as you began to find his rhythm, he began to easily hit every single target he shot at.

By the time he lowered the blasters, you’d begun to understand his process. Tech was a true analyst, his movements clearly thought-out and calculated, the opposite of Wrecker. Wrecker’s movements came naturally, hardly without thought. Tech’s mind, however, made razor-sharp recognitions and calculations, thinking a step ahead as much as possible. It was simply a matter of learning to find his pattern and learn to predict it and run with it.

In the back of your own mind, you began to realize the work cut out for you. If you happened to be tossed from Wrecker to Tech in the middle of the battle, it would be like making a 180 degree shift within the space of a breath. It wasn’t impossible, but you knew it would take a close understanding of each of them, their thought processes, their preferences, and their individual personalities to truly perfect yourself as their personal weapons.

You Dissolved, the two blasters once more converging into one as you reappeared physically. For a moment you simply froze, staring blankly ahead as you regained yourself. Shaking your head, you blinked and refocused, looking back up.

“Ambidextrous,” you said almost without thinking. “Physically and mentally.” You shook yourself off. “Sorry, it’s... it’s a bit challenging to keep up.” You smiled at Tech. “Your mind is... so fast. There’s so much. It’s very impressive.”

He blinked, and you wondered if that was some color staining the tips of his ears. “Thank you,” he said.

“Guess it’s my turn.” Crosshair grunted, stepping towards you. He eyed you warily, eyes flint.

You turned to him. “I’ll do my best.”

He held out his hand. “Permission to Transfer.”

You grasped his hand, feeling the calloused palm under your own skin. “Permission Granted.”

Silence. Compared to the others, Crosshair was just... utter silence. The Bond was there, you could feel it, but there was just... darkness and silence. But it didn’t surprise you, after you took a moment to think about it. You’d worked with a sniper once before. They distanced themselves, so far.

So you didn’t say anything, simply waited.

After a moment, a single visual came across. A detailed schematic for the rifle, including the mods.

It only took you half a second to instantly respond, the rifle seeming to just appear in his hands. He carefully studied the rifle, lifting it to stare through the scope and aiming in a few directions. You stayed quiet, ready to instantly respond to anything, trying to remember everything in Crosshair’s profile and the previous sniper you’d worked with.

Crosshair abruptly turned and fired several shots, peering down the scope. A few other modifications appeared across the bond, and you Shifted seamlessly between his steady shots. He hit every single target, every single time. No emotion came across the Bond, only a split-second visual of the intended target and any adjustments.

He lowered the rifle after a few more shots. “Your response time is satisfactory,” he said aloud, turning the rifle over in his hands. “I’ll have to get used to your presence. I keep feeling like there’s someone behind me.”

You hesitated a moment before speaking. “Would it be better if I kept a shadow beside you, or just stayed invisible?”

“Try the shadow,” he said, lifting the rifle again.

You projected astrally, hovering just beside his shoulder.

He paused. “A little forward.”

You adjusted, realizing that you might have been in his blind spot.

“Other shoulder.” After another moment and a few shots, he nodded. “Better. Once I get used to your fixed location, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

You nodded, Dissolving the bond. With a wince, you clapped your hands over your ears and squeezed your eyes shut with a tiny whimper. Everything kept bursting in your senses, a sharp contrast compared to the utter silence and deprivation of Crosshair’s mind. Letting out a gasp, you dropped down and hunched close to the ground, scraping yourself together.

“Shiv!”

You shook your head. “I’m fine-“ you blurted shakily. “I’m fine- I just- it’s been so long since I’ve worked with a sniper, I-“ Sucking in a breath, you started to come back to, getting used to the normalcy again. Slowly standing, you leaned gratefully against Wrecker’s arm.

“You’ve worked with a sniper before?” Crosshair asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You nodded, peeling your eyes open. “Y-yes. But it’s been many years, since I was a child. Both of you have... your minds are like... like sensory deprivation tanks. It’s- I have to- to get used to it. I think like- like Sergeant Hunter experiences.” You shook your head, taking deep breaths.

“You alright?” Hunter asked, observing you carefully.

You straightened, nodding. “Yes. Could we try passing?”

He nodded. “Who do you want to start with?”

“You, please,” you requested, sending Wrecker a grateful smile. He grinned back and nodded, patting your arm.

“Permission to Transfer.”

You took Hunter’s hand. “Transfer Granted.”

“So, how do we pass?” Hunter asked as soon as he was holding the modified blaster in his hand.

“Just warn me who you’re passing to at least mentally,” you directed, materializing over his shoulder. “That way, even if you throw, I can direct myself to the person you’re intending to pass me to. It also helps me prepare myself to acclimate to the next person and try to predict what weapon and modifications they will want from me so they don’t have to waste time waiting for me to finish Shifting. I can Shift mid-throw. Or you could hand me over.”

Hunter nodded. Without warning, he sent you a name and whipped his arm back. “Cross!” he shouted.

You Shifted mid-throw, allowing your astral form to dart across the space and directing the rifle to Crosshair’s hand. He caught it, instantly lifting it to his shoulder. Taking a quick shot at a rock formation and hitting the target, he sent a single name across again.

“Tech,” he warned, sending you into a tail-spin.

You darted over to Tech, splitting mid-air to guide yourself into both his hands seamlessly. Tech spun, shooting quickly at two pebbles on a rock formation and knocking them off. He didn’t even turn around before slamming the two pieces together and tossing them over his head.

“Wrecker,” he shouted, though you’d already started Shifting.

Wrecker caught the IWS, hefting it effortlessly above his head. “That was pretty quick,” he said, firing a random shot into the distance. “You good, Shiv?”

You Dissolved, pressing fingers to your temple. “Yeah, I’m... I’m trying to get the hang of it. It might take me a couple of tries to be able to get better. It’s... it’s difficult to keep track.” A migraine started to build in the back of your brain, making you hide a wince.

“Well we’ve already at least formed a good foundation, so let’s give Shiv a break for now and head back to the ship,” Hunter decided, turning on his heel and heading back for the ship.

You took a step forwards and lost footing, pitching forward. Wrecker caught you before you hit the ground, making you gasp. He lifted you up.

“Whoa there, Shiv. You good?” he asked, holding you easily as you grabbed his shoulders for balance.

“A little- I- disoriented,” you managed, still reeling and dizzy. “I-I’m a bit- dizzy from-“ You winced, closing your eyes and burying your face into his shoulder. “Sorry- everything is- I’m going into sensory overload,” you stammered, feeling jittery.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take you back to your bunk,” he said cheerfully, his steps long and steady as he walked back to the ship.

Your breath started to stutter as you felt sleep quickly creeping up on you. “Thank you, Wrecker,” you managed to whisper thickly, before the darkness descended irresistibly.

[pjo12fan]

Headcanon #3

Annabeth discovers she loves baking

The bad news: she’s really bad at it.

But nobody dares tell her.

The thing is everyone’s so used to Annabeth being really good at everything:

She trashes Percy, Leo and Jason at video games.

She’s been giving Piper a run for her money on their karaoke nights, and now there’s debate on who the best singer is.

Hazel’s starting to regret giving Annabeth horseback riding lessons, cause she’s getting scarily good.

And she’s even taught herself Chinese, to the point where she’s speaking it better than Frank.

So, when she starts getting into baking, all her friends are thinking, looks like here’s another thing Annabeth is a badass at. On the plus side, there’ll be free cookies right?

Wrong.

There are free cookies. But as it turns out, Annabeth is really awful at baking.

It started when Percy’s parents were away for the weekend on Sally’s book tour, they let Annabeth stay over so Percy wasn’t alone.

And Annabeth just went into a frenzy. Making batch after batch of burnt cookies, feeding them all to Percy.

Except he didn’t dare tell her how bad they were, he just kept swallowing as many as he could. And she would just keep making more.

The thing is Annabeth was completely oblivious, she just loved watching Percy eat for some reason. And she would smile and ask him, “Do you like it?”

And poor Percy’s just forcing mouthful after mouthful down his throat and nodding enthusiastically. He figured she’d get better over time.

Well, the seven demigods had a reunion at Percy’s place a couple months later.

Annabeth’s decided to bake a cake and some cookies as well. But by that point, each of them had already experienced Annabeth’s baking before, so they knew it wasn’t going to end well

Frank and Hazel are determined to avoid the inevitable, and they actually bring a cake they bought, to the apartment.

But when Annabeth finds out, she just says “I reckon we could finish two cakes, besides mine’s almost done!”

Upon hearing that Leo just closes his eyes and starts to groan, but Piper slaps the back of his head and tells him to not be rude.

She hates it as well though. But she figures somebody’s gonna let it slip sooner or later.

Anyway as the night goes on, Annabeth just brings out trays and trays of cookies.

And Jason can’t help but ask why she made so many. “I swear it’s not humanly possible for someone to eat this many cookies.”

He’s lying though. It is possible. If the cookies were good. It just wasn’t possible for someone to eat that many of Annabeth’s cookies.

She doesn’t know that. She just laughs cause she explains how Percy really loves them and how he can’t stop eating them. She was scared there wouldn’t be enough, so that’s why she made a ton of them just to be safe.

She goes back into the kitchen to get more. Everyone just stops chewing and gives Percy dirty looks. They’ve pretty much had enough at this point. It’s literally been months of burnt, horrible cookies, forced smiles and painful chewing.

And that’s how the evening goes, whenever Annabeth gets up to leave. Everyone is just begging for Percy to end it, once and for all.

Once the coast is clear, Piper and Frank spit out mouthfuls of cookie into the bin. Hazel and Leo just stare at the son of Poseidon and shake their heads.

“How could you man?” Jason’s just pleading with his bro, “Why haven’t you told her? Whyyy?”

And Percy’s basically given up at this point. He just can’t do that to her, he can’t tell her it’s bad.

It’s gone on too long, and they’re all in too deep he explains, they’re just gonna have to wait until Annabeth gets better.

And Piper’s mouth just hangs open. She’s in complete, utter disbelief. “Percy, honey, are you insane?!!?!”

“It’s been months man,” Leo’s chiming in now too. “She’s getting worse!”

“I’m pretty sure the last one I ate had a blonde curl in it.” Frank’s almost in tears and he’s begging on his knees at this point. “Please Percy, you have to tell her.”

“And tell her tonight Percy,” Hazel orders. “After we’re gone.”

“Why me?” Percy complains. “Cant someone else tell her?”

They all facepalm when Percy says he can’t because he’s told her so many times he loves her cookies, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t even hate them anymore at this point

“Why would you do that Percy? why?” Jason picks a couple cookies from the tray, checks to see if Annabeth is in view- she isn’t, and he tosses them in the bin.

Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s time to own up man.”

Percy looks like he wants to cry, he just shakes his head saying he can’t do it.

But by then, Piper just wants all the pain to end, and she’s blatantly pouring charmspeak into her words. Telling Percy, “Gotta tell her Perce, it’s better she finds out from you than someone else. And it’s better you be honest than have us keep lying about it.”

“Lying about what?”

Annabeth’s frowning, staring at each of them. They were clearly talking about her.

Everyone’s gone silent. Nobody dares meet her eyes. Even though she’s wearing an apron with a cartoon on it, and she’s got ridiculous rainbow mittens on, Annabeth is still so very scary when she’s mad.

“Lying about what?” She demands. “What’s wrong?”

Nobody replies. Frank quickly excused himself to the toilet. Jason and Piper suddenly found a real interest in the design of the coffee table. Hazel’s nervously playing with her hair, staring at the wall. Leo starts fidgeting with the springs in his pocket. And Percy’s just staring at the floor, he figured he could probably list hundreds of monsters he’d rather fight right now to avoid being here.

“Hello, anyone?” Annabeth’s practically got steam coming out her ears at this point. “I know you can all hear me!”

Piper looks up, makes eye contact with Percy, who’s silently pleading with her to not do this, but she turns away and looks at Annabeth. “You should ask your boyfriend.”

Annabeth cocks an eyebrow, staring at him expectantly. “Well?”

Percy’s mind has gone blank. He can’t think of anything to say. Other than the truth. Piper’s charmspeak is still echoing in his ears, and it’s taking literally all his strength not to do what she says.

He can’t take it anymore though. He opens his mouth and starts saying, “Well, we all kinda think-”

“We?” Leo’s shaking his head. “Don’t speak for me man.”

Jason feigns annoyance. “Yeah Perce, it’s what you think.”

Percy stares back at them. Are they being for real? But everyones face is just telling him, hey, you got us into this mess, now you gotta fix it.

So what can he do? He clears his throat, he puts on his bravest face. “Annabeth, I have a confessions to make.”

Annabeth has got her hands on her hips. “Mhmmm.”

“I think the-”

Ring!

He’s cut off by the doorbell. Someone’s knocking impatiently. And Percy is the most relieved man in the world at this point.

Frank goes to open it. And it’s Nico.

“Oh hey Nico,” He starts saying. “What’s up? Do you wanna come in?”

Nico pushes past him and walks straight into the living room. Everyone stares at him.

“What’s up man?” Jason asks.

Hazel goes for a hug but he signals for her to stop. Instead he turns to Annabeth.

“You gave me a box of cookies yesterday.” Nico says. “And I tried one.”

“Oh yeah!” Annabeth grins. “Did you like them?”

Nico stares at her, he can’t tell if she’s joking.

“No.” He says.

“Oh,” Annabeth pouts. “I didn’t know that, everyone’s been telling me they’re great.”

Then Nico narrows his eyes, as he looks at all of them - Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, Hazel, and Percy, all sat on the sofas, collectively holding their breath.

“Cowards.”

He spits out the word, staring down each and every one of them, before disappearing into the shadows.

And that’s how it’s done folks.

This is so long, but I just couldn’t stop writing hahaha, Nico’s a badass though

[andilovetowrite]

The Chosen Couple (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. (Not that you minded of course)

(Btw- the reader is an avenger, and Tony is kind of her father figure)

Warnings- None really, just tooth-rotting fluff and awkward confessions.

Word Count- 2.2k

Posted April 21, 2021

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

God, I hate the rain, you thought as you ran across the street, pulling your jacket even further up your head. You knew you should’ve bought an umbrella or even a raincoat, but since it was movie night, you didn’t even hesitate to run to Peter’s house after you dropped your bags at home. Every Friday was the same. Either you or Peter would have the privilege to pick what movie you guys wanted to watch, and then both of you would relax on the sofa until you left, or fell asleep.

This Friday was different though. It was the last day of school, so the day was even longer than usual. Everybody was just glad that the year was over, and summer had finally arrived. Sophomore year had been challenging, especially Physics, but you couldn’t wait for the next two months. Obviously saying goodbye to your friends had been bittersweet, but the feeling of relief of not having to do any homework or tests triumphed over the sadness. Tonight, you and Peter would watch movies until morning, and eat every possible snack you could find. The entire week had been leading up to this.

Trying to shield your face from the sharp drops of water, you finally reached the door, pushing it open with one hand, the other occupied with holding four huge packets of chips. Finally reaching the top floor, you dropped the bag on the floor, holding your knees and taking a breather. Hey, not all of us have superpowers to walk up seven flights of stairs and not get breathless. Pushing the jacket off your back, you knocked on the door, bouncing on your feet, waiting for Peter. A couple of seconds later, after the sound of a thud on the floor and May’s laughter, the door flung open, revealing a flustered Peter.

“Hey Y/n!”, he breathed out, smiling his signature grin before engulfing you in a hug. You felt his arms circle around yourself, pulling you close. Smiling slightly, you reciprocated, throwing your hands around his neck.

“Hi Peter”, you said, your voice muffled in his sweatshirt. Pulling away from him, you pushed him off me, laughing at the cute pout on his face. “I’m soaking wet with this thing on me.” Plucking the clingy jacket off yourself, you squeezed it, water splashing off it. Peter stifled a laugh, taking the bag out of your hands.

“Drenched, aren’t you?”

Elbowing him, you gave him the bags of snacks, muttering sarcastically. “That’s the sympathy I get for bringing the best food for our movie nights”

“Ooh, Doritos and… sour cream Lays!” He looked up at you, smirking. “You got the good ones.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded, walking inside the apartment.

“Is there any place I can dry this?”, you asked, referring to the sad bundle of cloth in your hand. Peter took it from you, despite your complaints.

“Let me do it. You are my guest”, he said, looking over his shoulder, winking and he threw it into the washing machine.

“Well, I am your guest every other day”, you shot back, walking into the kitchen. It was true anyway. The Parker’s house is your second house. The tower was nice and all, but with all the Avengers and Bucky and Sam constantly arguing, it can get annoying fast. Peter’s house is a shadow of calm in your life. Ever since you found out he was Spiderman, well, (he actually told you, but that’s a different story), you tried to come to his house every night to make sure he was fine. Tony had stopped you from fighting crime since last month due to exams, as well as Peter, but it didn’t stop you from coming and visiting him. You know, since he was your best friend.

“Hi sweetie!”, May called out, embracing you. Knowing where Peter got his talent for amazing hugs, you hugged her back, smelling the scent of warm cookies and cinnamon. Realizing that the smell of cookies was coming from behind her, you looked across, seeing a batch of cookies starting to burn.

“May! The cookies!”

“Oh-oh!” Running at them, she grabbed a towel, quickly pulling the burning hot cookies out of the oven.

“Here!” Pushing some of the items off the counter, you made some space for the tray of cookies. Dropping the tray down with a clatter, she blew on them, fanning the golden-brown discs with her hand. “They look awesome Aunt May!”

“Aww, thanks Y/N”, she said, staring at the cookies on the table. “They are, aren’t they?”

Smiling, you nodded, getting hungrier just looking at them. “Oh my god, what smells so good?” Peter called out, walking out of his room. Gesturing to the perfect cookies on the table, you pointed to May.

“Wait a second, they aren’t burned” Peter looked at May in astonishment, carefully taking one off the pan and biting it. “It tastes perfect May!” She merely smiled, walking over to the counter, grabbing her purse and some packs of gum. Now noticing her clothes, you called out.

“Where are you going, Aunt May?”

She looked back at me, quickly applying some lip gloss. “Oh just a night out with my friends. I need it. Plus-”, she glanced at the TV and then Peter, “- I know how loud movie nights can get.” You laughed, jumping off the chair and walking to the front door. Grabbing an umbrella, you gave it to her, mumbling about how to not make the same mistake you did. “Okay sweetheart. I’ll see you both in a few hours. I might stay over at Ashley’s house, but I’ll call you if that happens.” Kissing Peter on the cheek, she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

The minute the door closed, Peter jumped up, pulling you towards the sofa, showing you the array of snacks that he placed out. “Okay, so we have chips, chocolate, cookies that May made and there is ice cream in the fridge.” His eyebrows furrowed like he was remembering something but his eyes lit up in recognition when he was the small box next to the door. “Oh, and Mr Stark sent over a couple of things for us for tonight.”

Chuckling, you told him to get those, while you picked out the movie. Trying to choose one between Star Wars and Harry Potter, you chose the latter, knowing that you two were going to have a Star Wars marathon in the near future anyway. Grabbing the remote, you chose the first movie, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, pausing it to wait for Peter. Looking for him, you saw him standing at the door, the box lying open, untouched. He was holding a small index card, his face bright red.

“Hey Pete, you alright?” Worried, you slipped your hand under your shorts, feeling the edges of your dagger sitting over there. Pulling it out, you carefully walked over to him, thinking that something was wrong. However, when you got closer, Peter heard me, turning around so fast he hit his head on the wall. Crumpling the card in his palm, he threw it behind him, smiling nervously. “Are you okay? What was that?”

“Nothing”, he replied, too quickly. Quirking your eyebrow, you shrug, letting it go.

“What did Mr Stark send for us?”, you asked, trying to get a glimpse at the box.

“Uhh, just some snacks and drinks. I think there was some cold coffee in here as well. Why don’t I go heat us some?”, he said in a high voice, the same one he used when he lied.

Not even letting you get a look at the mystery box, he began pushing you towards the couch, mumbling something under his breath.

“Y/N, your t-shirt is soaked! Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting to go home and change. Seeing your expression, he pushed me down the sofa, telling me to wait. A beat later, he ran back, holding out a dark blue hoodie with a picture of Luke Skywalker on the back. “Here, change into this. Don’t wanna get a cold”

A half giggle escaped me as you took it from him, walking over to the bathroom as you changed into it. Pulling it on, the familiar scent of Peter embraced me. The plush inside of it felt warm against your skin, making me shiver involuntarily. Biting your lip, you looked into the mirror, liking the sight of Peter’s hoodie on me. The more you stared at your reflection, the fuzzier you felt. This just seemed like a very boyfriend thing to do. To be honest, you always thought of Peter as more than just a best friend. The first time you saw him was in 8th grade. You had just moved to Queens, due to your parent’s job, and you were quite excited. It had been a month since you had gotten your newfound power of controlling objects with your mind. It was hard. Your parents didn’t know about it just yet, and it was getting harder to block out your power off from simple everyday objects. You remember how one time you almost threw a plate at your mom because she was freaking out about your Math grades. Soon after you had moved in, you met Peter Parker. He lived across the street from you, wearing glasses and carrying lego boxes home most days. Since you were the same age, it was only a matter of time before you two became friends. And friends you became.

“Hey Y/N! You alright?”, Peter yelled out from the living room, cutting me out from your thoughts. Shrugging your shoulders, you walked out, seeing him sitting comfortably on the couch, chips, ice cream and some sandwiches in his hand.

“Delmars?”, you asked, nodding to the sub in his palm.

“Yup got it earlier” Pulling the sleeves into your hands, you brought the hoodie closer, loving the warmth. “Come here, I’m freezing”, Peter said, making ‘grabby hands. Chuckling, you carefully jumped in, arms curling his midsection. Resting your head on his shoulder, you grabbed the remote, pressing play.

On the screen, the intro of Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone began showing up, as Peter scrunched up his nose. “Wait, Harry Potter?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn? Remember?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s mine. The last time was yours.”

“But I had an extra one, right?”, you looked at him accusingly, “because you came and ruined my date.”

He looked down sheepishly, trying to hide the small smile. It had happened about 3 weeks ago when Brad Davis had asked you out. You couldn’t begin to explain how hard it was to explain to him why Spiderman had swooped me out of the sky to go help him do English homework. But truthfully, you weren’t vibing with him. He talked too much about sports and how much he worked out. No offence Brad, but you could backflip him out of a window within minutes. Sadly, he didn’t know that you were an Avenger, so you had to act like you were interested in his biceps for 2 hours straight. Thank god Peter had shown up, otherwise, you would have had a very awkward conversation with him.

“Fine fine”, Peter muttered, grabbing a few chips and stuffing them in his mouth.

“Aww, come on”, you said, threading your hands in his curls, “you love Harry Potter” Smiling cheekily, though it sent a twinge of pain through your heart, you teased. “Especially Hermione Granger”

His cheeks turning pink, he mumbled. “No, I don’t”

“Uh-huh”

“Alright alright, let’s just do this!”

“We have literally all summer, I’m sure we can spend some time discussing your crush on Hermione”

“In that case, let’s talk about Mrs Potter over here”

“Okay, I think we got it”, you said, making the word much longer. We grinned at each other, ready to watch the movie, as the intro began playing in the background. Little did you know that these beautifully crafted cinematic adventures that you guys were about to have would change your relationship with Peter forever.

Thanks for reading till all the way here! If you liked this, please follow me and I’ll send out the next part in a couple of days :)

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

[mqgriett]

Crosshair- The Exam

Prompt: “You’re the only thing that matters”

Pairings: Crosshair x Fem!reader

Warnings: none!

Summary: you’ve been studying your ass off for a month trying to prepare for the exam that will dictate whether or not you get to go back to the 104th battalion as a medic. 

Notes: IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG thank you sm for requesting @lightning-wolffe

You shut off your data pad and pushed it under your armpit, squeezing it with your bicep to not let it fall from your grip as you open your textbook. Before you received the chance to re-read your highlighted notes you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“I heard that your boys landed in Hangar 5.” Kix chirped, pointing behind him with his thumb. He ran his opposite hand through his short brown hair, smiling kindly. 

You hummed in response, your attention mostly focused on your annotations. The big exam, one that basically determined whether or not you were allowed to return to your assigned Clone Force, was in three days. Every quiet moment was spent with you cracking open a textbook or reviewing your notes. Now that you thought about it, when was the last time you ate… or slept?

Kix quickened his pace and moved in front of you, using his index finger to push your book down to properly view your face. “You know the exam isn’t for another three days, right?” he asked. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, “Unfortunately not everyone has a memory like yours. I need to study.” you said, closing your book and bopping him on the head with it lightly. 

He took the textbook from your hands, holding it up in the air until it was out of your reach. “Fives!” he called to someone you couldn’t see, “Batchers still here?” 

Behind you, the ARC trooper nodded, “Gonna be here for the next coupla hours. Engine is shot.” 

Kix let his guard down just long enough for you to grab your study materials back. You gently nudged him to the side and walked past, just wanting to get back to your quarters and study. 

The medic gave up, hurrying to catch up with Fives as you walked in the opposite direction. 

Were you dying to see the Bad Batch? Absolutely.

Did you have the time to? Unfortunately not.

Someone (a medic from the 212th apparently, but you tried not to believe rumors) had fucked up a month ago, and it costs you your privilege of being an on-site medic. All field nurses were sent back to Coruscant to retake the big medical exam to prove that they could still serve as medics. 

Unlike Kix, you took it very seriously. Getting anything below a 80% would make your chances of returning small. Only the top 45% of nurses would go back to their battalions while the other 55% stayed on Coruscant to continue their studies. 

The large metal door to your room slid open as you scanned your hand and you stepped inside. Without looking up, you wandered to your desk, which was covered in an assortment of different papers and sticky notes. 

Still reading your textbook, you typed in the access code for your online notes. After a few seconds an automated female voice began to quiz you on questions you had written down two weeks ago.

You stood up and undressed yourself, lazily pulling a dark brown shirt over your head and letting your hair fall loose from the bun that had sat on your head for the majority of the day. 

“Define Choledocholithiasis.” said the voice. 

“Stones in the gallbladder or common bile duct” you replied effortlessly, shuffling to your bathroom to fill the water compartment for your caf. 

You plugged the machine into the wall, allowing the slow drip of heavenly brown liquid to start as you sat back down at your desk. It gave you a moment to think about everything. Realistically, you were more qualified than half the shinies going in to take the exam. 

Kriff, you were wasting your time here. 

You pushed back from your desk and slid on the first pair of shoes that were near your door. 

The halls had quieted down for the most part, most of the clones eating dinner or heading to bed if they had an early start tomorrow morning. 

Massaging your scalp and yawning, you made your way to Hangar 5. 

You looked a little tired, but it didn’t matter as long as you got to see Crosshair. You knew none of them would care but especially not him, in the small window of time you two got alone he frequently told you how much he loved your messy hair. He wasn’t much of a verbal communicator when it came to your relationship, but he always made up for it in physical gestures. 

Rounding the final corner, your eyes began to scan the busy hangar for the marauder. You took back your thought from earlier, seeing that Hangar 5 was a lot more busy than you had anticipated. 

At least two different squadrons were shipping out, from what you could tell it was the 104th and 312th battalions. The blurred figures of grey and green armor made it difficult to keep your focus on one thing at a time. 

You carefully started to walk along the wall, ducking until a small cruiser as a short cut. 

After another ten minutes of searching you finally spotted a familiar face in the bottom right corner of the hangar. 

Tech typed away at his data pad, turning to shout something up at Wrecker, who was sitting on the top of the ship and swinging his legs like a mad man. 

Despite the excitement bubbling in your stomach, you took your time walking over to them. It was nice to just observe and laugh at their behavior for a few minutes, it lifted your spirits.

Once you were within vision to Wrecker, he didn’t hesitate to point and shout at you from the top of the Marauder. 

“Tech!” You called as he mindlessly searched for you in the crowd of people. 

He grinned widely, opening his arms up as you jogged over to him. He hugged you tightly, another pair of large arms suddenly wrapping around both of you. 

Wrecker finally set you two down, giving you an individual hug and swaying you from side to side. At one point you were almost choking. 

“Thought you were studying for the exam.” Tech said skeptically, eyeing you as if you would ever hide something from him. 

You shrugged, “priorities” you peeked over his shoulder, looking for a specific person. 

Tech noticed your wandering eyes and smiled, “Cross is taking inventory with Cody.” 

“Where’s Sarg?” you asked, linking your arm into his. 

“Talking to some of the blue regs.” Wrecker replied loudly, making a few of the 501st soldiers turn to look at him. The large clone was never one to be secretive when it came to addressing the other clones as “regs”. It often drew attention to the group, not necessarily the good kind either. 

From a distance you could see Hunter walking back towards the Marauder with Fives, both of them with their helmets at their hips. 

Sarg’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, his pace quickening as his urge to be with you grew. He hugged your torso tightly, allowing his arm to sling around your shoulder loosely afterwards. 

“It’s been a while.” He said, gently nudging you away from Fives before the ARC trooper could talk.

“It’s been two months. And I always call.” You replied, smiling. 

“You look exhausted.” Hunter pointed out quickly, looking down at the bags under your eyes. 

You shrugged, “could say the same for you Sarg.”

You four situated yourselves underneath the Marauder, sitting on top of a few power supplies and food crates. Hunter sat next to you, Wrecker and Tech mirroring both of you. 

“We were told you wouldn’t be coming down.” Hunter said, leaning back on his elbows. 

You raised a skeptical brow, “who told you that?”

“Fives” he answered nonchalantly, “why else would I be talking to him?”

His comment made your eyes roll, “be nice.” You warned, poking his stomach where armor didn’t cover him. 

Hunter swatted your hand away, briefly turning his head and smiling. “Look who’s back,” he jutted his thumb behind him, pointing to the two other clones making their way back to the ship.

Cody held a clipboard loosely at his side as he spoke to Crosshair, who carried his helmet against his hip. The 212th trooper laughed at something he said before saluting the sniper and walking in the opposite direction. 

You always seemed to forget how handsome Cross was in person. The blue hologram of him during your brief calls did nothing for his strong jawline and high cheekbones. The scruff along his jaw and neck was slightly more visible now, a grey shadow lingering along it. 

Pushing yourself off the crate, you broke into a swift jog towards him. For someone with perfect eyesight, he didn’t notice you coming until you were a few meters away. 

He opened his arms up, catching you perfectly as you jumped to him. 

His long arms held your waist completely as he lowered you to the ground, back arched due to his height compared to yours.“Didn't think you would come.” he said softly in your ear, his voice alone producing butterflies in your stomach. 

“I wanted to see you.” you replied, pulling away from him and moving to his side. 

Crosshair sent a small smirk to you, which was enough to indicate that he felt the same way. 

You walked side by side back to the rest of the group, shoulders touching and hands grazing against one another’s. The gestures were sweet, like the type you would make in school when you were younger. They were enough to make the other person feel loved without drawing too much attention. 

The Bad Batch, plus you, sat underneath their ship once more as the rest of the 104th took off in their ships. You waved to Sinker and Comet from the opposite side of the hangar, tossing over-dramatic kisses in their direction while they climbed up the steps. Another mission for them, one that you wouldn’t be going to. 

“When do you expect to return?” Tech asked from the top of his crate. You had situated yourself on a lower case, one that was used to store bombs and other small explosives. It kept you about seven or eight inches off the ground while Crosshair took your spot next to Hunter. 

You let out a long sigh, “I don’t even know if I’ll go back.”

“They need ya out there.” Wrecker replied, crossing his large legs like a child would. 

Crosshair could sense your unease and pushed himself off the crate, settling on the ground in front of you and leaning back so his head pressed against your chest. He let out a small chuckle, no doubt feeling your heartbeat quicken for a few moments. “They’ll take you back.” he said calmly, reaching for your hand and placing it atop his head. 

You began to run your fingers through his short, grey hair. “If I don’t get above an 80% then I’m not going back.” You mumbled. 

“Why 80?” Hunter asked innocently. 

“Because she’s a girl.” Wrecker replied loudly, having absolutely zero common sense as to who could be listening. 

Crosshair tense underneath you, muscles tightening against your legs, “Wrecker.” he seethed, using his brother’s full name. 

Your face dropped, cheeks heating up. He was right, but hearing someone finally say it out loud made it worse. That was the real reason you had been dedicating so many weeks to studying. Even if Kix received a 45% and you an 80%, they would choose him over you. Clones were bred to be intelligent. You were just a girl who somehow got Senator Palpatine to assign you to a clone squadron. 

You wiggled your way out from under Crosshair, stepping over the low crate of explosives and walking up the steps of the Marauder. It was cold inside but the chill felt so nice against your hot body. 

In all honesty, you wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your room and bawl your eyes out until you physically couldn’t produce tears anymore. But you knew you couldn’t, that would be showing weakness. 

Soft footsteps echoed behind you, Cross’s monotone voice ringing in your ears shortly after, “he didn’t mean that.”

You shook your head, “No no, he’s right.” 

He took a few steps towards you, gently reaching for your wrist and pulling you into him. He rested his chin on your head, “you’ll do great on the exam.” 

You pushed off of him, needing a bit of air to keep from crying. You shook your wrists out and looked up at the ceiling, it helped a little bit. “Just nervous.” you muttered. 

He stayed silent, not exactly sure how to comfort you. Words frequently failed him and in the rare occasion that you were upset Tech was able to calm you down, but not this time. Crosshair wanted to make you feel better, no matter what it took. 

You hated being this vulnerable around anyone, the panic in your stomach growing every second of silence that passed. 

Taking a deep breath, you began to walk past him, “I need to go, you have more important things to-” 

He caught your bicep and spun you back around, other hand holding the small of your back as he kissed you. It was a deep, passionate, yet chaste, kiss. You melted into his grip, leaning backwards to force his lips onto yours more. You held the sides of his face, the small scruff on his jaw feeling immaculate against your own. 

He rested your foreheads together and quietly, barely audibly, whispered, “you’re the only thing that matters.” 

You were about to kiss him again when Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker walked through the door. 

Hunter smiled, “Guess who’s got a new nurse on the team.”

Your head cocked to the side, Wrecker looking like he was about to explode from excitement at any moment. “We do!” he bellowed, “and it’s you!” 

Mouth hanging open, you looked from Crosshair to the other three. “What?”

“Welcome to Clone Force 99, medic.” Hunter answered proudly.

[cosmiclatte28]

White day Cliché  (Jeno x you)

a/n : I rushed this! Sorry if your white day is coming to and end or maybe you just start the day. Anyways this one is for Jeno lovers I know out there @yutahoes @neopalette

Warning : Florist reader au! Winwin is your asistant and of course this is a great lesson for you to know that there are other flowers than red roses to represent love :D

enjoy!!

14 of March, another unofficial special day for the cheesy couple. Not for you, the lonely girl of the batch! Come on, can’t people just keep this special day to themselves? Not that you hate them for having a partner, it’s just annoying for your single soul (okay admit it, you’re jealous) You glare at the author of this story, as if she herself has a special someone to give her the treats she deserves. “Shut up Cosmic, you’re nothing different than me.”

Anyways, what makes you sick and happy about this day is just that your flower shop is selling like crazy! You’re sick for arranging red roses every minute and happy because well the profit for today is big!

“Another red roses,” your assistant Winwin calls out from the cashier. You glance from the working table to see another pile of receipts waiting to be done on the table.

“All red roses?” you sigh and Winwin just gives you a small nod “We’re lucky we prepared a lot of them today.”

You roll your eyes “Didn’t they know there are many more flowers other than roses?” you shudder but continue arranging the flowers.

“I don’t know, what will you want to receive as a girl in white day?” Winwin asks as he leaves the counter when he sees no new customer is here. He takes his gloves and starts helping you.

You smirk “Hmm interesting, let me see.” You say as you grab your scissors and cut the thorns.

There’s seven bouquet to finish and you’re glad you get a hand.

“Let’s see red roses are ideal for love, it represents love and passion, beauty and respect.” You finish one bouquet like Winwin.

“But there are other flowers like, pink hydrangeas! They’re cute and they represent romance too, even better a true feeling.” Your hands already wrap a second bouquet. “Sincere emotions.”

Winwin leaves you for a while with three bouquets done, he called the names and the pretty flowers are on their ways to meet happy receivers!

Winwin returns luckily without a new paper, you’ve been making more than ten today! And you’re getting bored.

“I’ll say some hint of forget me not will be nice.” You pick the knife to cut the thorns out of the stem and prepare the wrapping paper for the bouquet.

“Oh yes, that symbolizes true love! It’s sweet, but not many people know that.” Winwin smiles when he is also thinking of flowers that represent love.

You nod “See, I have something else in mind.”

The other bouquet are smaller, so you finish them faster and Winwin is back with more orders.

“How many men are planning to rob the red roses here?!” you squeal when you see another orders of red roses.

“Do you want me to lie and say we don’t have anymore red roses?” Winwin rolls his eyes but his hands are already making more bouquet like you did.

“One more red roses orders and I am done.” You hufth but continue to work, because money comes first.

“Okay, besides we don’t have much more left. Let’s sell all of it and stop.” He pats your back and  you grin “No, we sell the other flowers at half price!”

The man beside you pops his eyes “What? Why?”

You wrap up another piece “Because WInwin, this is only lunch. People will flood this place before dinner if they’re coming for a special dinner. And I have a good plan to sell these other pretty flowers.”

Winwin just nods and leaves you again to distribute the flowers. After five more arrangements, your red roses are finished, and you begin to make new arrangements.

“We’ll sell this at a lower price, but I’ll write the explanation of each flowers. Come help me.” You pull Winwin to the working space and tell him your plan. He grins and nods happily “Those are great ideas.”

So, in the next one hour both of you begin to arrange different flowers with colorful calm tones and divergent beauties. All different like how every couple has different representation of love.

“This one has Hyacinth as the main flower this is for the couple who adores sincerity and constancy.” You help Winwin put on the sign on each flowers.

“Next, this one has Magnolia, for those who has all enduring love.” You explain when a new customer is walking in to look for a flower to present at dinner.

You’re glad because the idea is fresh and people are loving it, they even ask you if you have flowers for their special lovers. You’re energized to make new arrangements for customized couples and their faces are also brighter as they feel confident meeting their lover and explaining the meaning of each different flowers.

“Wow! That’s a lot of flowers today!” Winwin says when he starts to count the money and you’re still sitting on your working table trying to fix the last flower.

“I am going to go buy us coffee,” Winwin takes some money from the cashier and you let him go “Take me some cookies too!”

Winwin smiles and excitedly leaves, oh damn you know why he’s excited. He’s seeing on the hot barista there and is he bringing a flower? Oh Winwin! Even Winwin has someone to take care of today.

You sigh when you realize you’re single and sad. You busy yourself with cleaning the leaves and thorns before you hear a ring from the door.

“Welcome-“ you pause when you see the man in front of you. “Oh, you!”

The man with a gentle eye smile walks to your side “Long time no see (y/n)! Nice flower shop.” He looks around and you stay quiet. “How did you find me?” you ask, confused about seeing the man here.

“The Instagram is noisy with people saying their white day became more meaningful and special after ordering a flower from you.” He leans into the table between you and him.

“And? What did you want to do here, Jeno?” his name tastes bitter leaving your tongue. The same name you’ve never mentioned for a month. The same man you are trying to forget. “I know that today is White day and I need your help.” He smiles

You are not going to fall for this smile again. He has humiliated you and you’re supposed to not allow him be here again in your life, but here he is.

“What help? I sold all my flowers.” You lie

Jeno chuckles “I saw some flowers there.”  He points to the display fridge and you shake your head “Not for you.”

He grins “Look, about Valentine I am so sorry. I was so surprised.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes “Stop, I don’t care about you and that day.”

“I do care. I feel like a jerk, I am so sorry. I never expected you to send me flowers that day. I was so surprised I did not know what to say or how to act and I accidentally let you down with a silly thing.”

“You told me to go home. You broke my heart and dignity.” You clench your fist.  Come on, don’t cry about this in front of him.

He reaches out for your hand “I picked up your flowers you dropped when I said to go home. It was a coold winter morning (y/n), I couldn’t think straight and I am so worried you’ll fall sick.”

You can no longer hold back the tears, and Jeno takes his chance to pull out his handkerchief and wipes your tears with it.

“I put your love in a vase, every day I smile and got energized from them. I tried my best to not let them wilt, but they wilt…. And I know it’s time for me to man up and see you.”

Your heart aches, but you’re glad you can still meet him and that he actually did not mean to dump you back then in Valentine’s day when you send him some “love”

“Your forget me not, reminds me of you and your true love.” Jeno slowly touches your hand and when you did not pull away, he holds it softly.

“Your gerbera daisy energizes me and cheers me up!”

You chuckle but tears are still running from your eyes. So Jeno did understand your message from the flowers?

“And I will not forget the Lavender roses, for love at first sight.” He pulls you into  a hug when you begin crying again.

“Sorry I wasn’t the fastest guy to notice your love, I only noticed it when you’re missing from my life. So for today, I want to place an order.” He pulls you away and you look at him in confusion.

“I’ll take blue hydrangea for your deep understanding and my apology, then give me some pink hydrangeas to show you my true feelings and romance to you, then pop in some bellflower for my gratitude.”

Jeno catches how your eyes are twinkling wet but you go to work and prepare those flowers.

“Most importantly, don’t forget the forget me not, all arranged in a pretty bouquet with your favourite wrapping paper, the baby blue wrapping and add a note saying “Lee Jeno is waiting for you, (y/n). XOXO Jeno.”” He winks and leaves the counter and you blush there with your tear stained cheek. Oh Jeno and his flirtiness.

You quickly make his arrangement and did exactly what he said, even writing the notes down. Once you’re done you take your apron off and walk to him with the beautiful arrangement full of meaning in your hands.

“Here,” you hand it to him. He reaches out for his wallet but you stop him “May I know who this flower is for?”

Jeno clears his throat and stands up to face you “For the wonderful girl in my life, happy white day! Read the message and the meaning of the flowers.” He winks and you giggle

“Are you planning to ask me for a dinner?” you ask after receiving back the bouquet.

Jeno nods “If you can close this shop earlier.”

You quickly run to fetch your coat and bag when you see Winwin coming from the door. “Winwin will close the shop for me, what about you pay this flower and your apology by asking me for a dinner?” you step up your confidence and Jeno bends to whisper in your ear “I could even offer you more princess.”

You feel chill run down your spine “Dinner it is! Let’s go.” You pull him out of the shop, leaving Winwin with big question mark.

Jeno has his brightest smile on his face, “I am the luckiest guy today. Forgive me for the past… I want a new beginning, will you let me have another chance?”

You smirk “Only if you show me you’ve changed.”

He pockets his hands into his jacket “Challenge accepted!”

“Jeno!” you stop and he turns his heels to face you, you rise and press a quick kiss on his cheek “I forgive you for what you did last Valentine.”

He blushes “Thank you, but I want to make better memories with you, my soon to be lover.”

You feel a garden of flower blooming in your heart, White day is not bad at all!

fin

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           “I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

          ��“Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

           “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 11

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

Word Count: 8.2K (longest one yet) 

__

The next few days flew by in a snowy blur. Most of your time was spent wrapping gifts and packaging baked goods to deliver to family friends. You grunted as you leaned heavily on top of the Tupperware container as you shoved in more sugar cookies. This particular batch was going to Erwin's coach and his family. The sound of wrapping paper tearing made you cringe, turning around you saw Hange holding up the two uneven lengths of paper. She smiled sheepishly at you before shrugging and taping the pieces together once more. Your mom and Erwin were currently out shopping at the mall, which was a good hour away from the hick town you lived in.

You and Hange had already been out shopping the other day. It had been very stressful shopping for all your friends and family. You were glad to have gotten the ordeal over with. Although it was stressful, you had enjoyed picking out the perfect gift for your loved ones. Some highlights included: a camera lense for Armin, a set of chain necklaces for Mikasa, a turkey hat for Sasha, a safari hat for Connie, and your personal favorite was a set of fancy tea cups for Levi.

You really had outdone yourself this year, even going as far as buying Erwin supplies that he would need for College. For Hange you had purchased her a fresh set of glassware for her experiments, since she was majoring in Chemistry and enjoyed doing work outside of the classroom you thought it was a fitting gift. Hange held up her finished product proudly, judging by the size of the box you guessed it was a pair of shoes.

"I can't wait to give these to him!" she gushed as she set the box to the side and began folding a sweater that the two of you had purchased for your mom.

"Yeah I'm sure he'll love them." you agreed. You weren't the only one who had splurged this year. Hange had bought Erwin a fresh pair of cleats for his freshman season at college.

"I hope so!" she chuckled as she boxed the sweater and the pair of earrings for your mom.

"What did you ask for this year?" you asked as you set the stuffed container of cookies to the side.

"Oh nothing special." Hange waved her hand dismissively. You weren't surprised, she wasn't exactly interested in possessions. She valued knowledge above most things, so the closest you could get to filling that need was to give her books or items that helped her learn and shit. You had learned that the hard way, a few years ago you had given her a nice bracelet, which was currently collecting dust on her dresser.

"Well what about your parents, are they doing something special this year?" you inquired, you knew that she had learned to appreciate knowledge from them. They used to go on trips and spend Christmas soaking up the culture of wherever they went. One of their most notable trips was to South America, Hange's favorite trip to date. They hiked in the jungle and learned about the environment and shit.

"Aw sadly no, they wanted to take a break and focus on their research here." She shrugged as she wrapped the box in snowman wrapping paper.

"Really?" you mused, although Hange's family was unconventional you admired their free spirit.

"Yeah, I'm particularly interested in my mom's project, she's studying these penguins in South America right now-" she continued to ramble on about her mother's studies and her father's work. Both of her parents were very active in the zoology community. Hange's rant was cut short by the sound of her phone ringing, she apologized before answering the call, walking out of the room for some privacy. Which you thought was odd, she usually wasn't so private with her phone calls, which at times could be annoying. You brushed it off as most likely being a conversation about gifts. You picked up your phone, taking the opportunity to answer the text that Mikasa had sent you earlier that morning.

"We'll be over around 7." her text made you feel giddy with excitement. Although this year would be a bit different you were still excited to see all your friends.

"See you soon!" you responded, you realized that it was probably a good idea to start dinner for your mom. She should be home any minute but still you set about preheating the oven for the casserole and the ham. Thankfully the Jeagers brought dishes as well, Carla made a mean pumpkin pie. You weren't expecting Kenny to bring anything other than booze. You fell into an easy rhythm as you prepared the vegetable casserole. It couldn't have been more than an hour later that your mom and Erwin stumbled in the door and dropped the bags down by the card table where we had been wrapping gifts. Your mom was quick to wash her hands and start the mashed potatoes as you checked the ham. Hange had began to set the table with Erwin, a christmas playlist had been playing to set the mood.

The Jeagers arrived right at 7, just in time. Grisha's arms were full with gifts, Carla toted two pies, Eren held a board game, and Mikasa had two bottles of red wine with ribbons around the necks of the bottles. Hugs and formalities were exchanged as they entered and put their gifts under the tree. Carla joined your mom in the kitchen to finish carving the ham. You and the other teens finished setting the table as everyone trickled into the dining room.

Just as the ham was placed on the table and glasses of wine were poured, the doorbell rang once more. Kenny had arrived, surprisingly only thirty minutes late. He had a huge bottle of vodka and another sizable bottle of whiskey. Your mom greeted him, taking the liquor from him and pointing him to his seat. Now that all guests were accounted for you began to dish out food and recount the past holidays that your families spent together. It didn't go unnoticed that Kenny was a tad uncomfortable, but thanks to Grisha's easy going nature and Carla's friendliness, he slowly eased up. Of course you and the other teens had your own conversation separate from the adults.

"-Do you remember that one year that I creamed you guys in Just Dance?" Hange gloated as she waved a forkful of ham in Eren's face.

"Ugh yes, but only because that was the year that Mikasa's ankle was sprained." Eren deflected, lifting his own fork to push hers from his face. Mikasa blushed and shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"Well I guess we'll just have to see if that was the real reason after a rematch!" Hange teased before biting into the hunk of meat.

"I guess we will." Eren narrowed his eyes as he watched Hange chew the meat.

"We should play Mario Kart first, I want to redeem myself." Armin was quick to change the subject. Always quick to avoid possible conflict.

"Yeah I totally creamed you last time!" you gloated a cocky smile on your lips.

"W-What! No I had the most wins!" Eren's eyes were alight with anger. He was too easy to piss off.

"Wrong!" you said in a sing song voice.

"Knock it off you two." Erwin scolded from across the table, Eren's cheeks flushed when Erwin scolded him but you simply rolled your eyes. In the last few months Erwin had taken to hovering over you and your friends. It was strange, he had never shown so much interest in your social life until recently. At first you had been eager to tell him what was going on in your friend group, but now it was becoming annoying.

"Lay off Erwin, it's all talk." you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Erwin's eyes hardened at your snarky tone, your guests eyes flickered between the two of you as you glared at one another. Until finally you snorted and looked away with a shake of your head.

"Uh...so who wants pie!" Armin, ever true to his anti confrontation nature filled the thick silence between the teens. Meanwhile the adults had continued to yammer on about all the hot hospital gossip.

"I-I would." Eren played into Armin's excuse to change the subject.

"Yeah sounds good." you sighed, defeated. Armin scrambled out of his seat and ducked into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the pies. He dished out three pieces onto you and Eren's plates before serving himself. By the time he had returned, Hange had already changed the topic to the party the following day. You sat in silence as she rambled about the logistics for the party at your house.

"I think that Nanaba is bringing mac and cheese, Mike is probably going to bring those snicker doodles that he always makes-" You tuned her out, not interested in her current rant. Tomorrow's party wasn't the party you were really excited for. So you instead turned to Mikasa, hoping to talk about your plans for the 26th.

"So what time are you going to Annie's? Would you like to ride together?" you asked as you angled yourself to face her to better tune out Hange.

"We are heading over around 9, and sure I'm driving." Mikasa responded as she stretched to serve herself a piece of pie.

"Perfect, are you spending the night there?" you quizzed, unsure if you also wanted to spend the night there.

"No, we were going to go back to Armin's but I can drop you off here if you want." Mikasa answered as she took a bite of pie.

"Alright that sounds good!" you agreed, knowing that Mikasa was always a reliable designated driver.

__

Dinner had gone relatively smooth, despite the tension that now hung in the atmosphere between you and Erwin. The rest of the evening was spent in the living room opening gifts with a Christmas movie marathon playing in the background. The Jeagers left around eleven, which was later than they usually stayed. Kenny took the guest bedroom in the basement, since he was spending Christmas day with your family anyway. You checked your phone with a heavy sigh, already it was twelve am. You contemplated texting Levi to tell him happy birthday, but you weren't sure he would be awake. It was already six in the morning in France, and usually he got his three hours of sleep between four and seven in the morning. But you decided that if he didn't answer you could leave him a voicemail or shoot him a text. So after you changed into your pajamas and had snuggled beneath your covers, you pulled up Levi's contact, your thumb hovering over the small phone icon. Finally you just said 'fuck it' and pressed the button, the phone rang three times before he answered.

"Hey." his voice was thick and gravely as he spoke, immediately you felt bad. You knew that you must have woken him up and you cringed internally.

"Hey happy birthday!" you greeted, making sure to keep your voice low so you wouldn't disturb Erwin and Hange.

"Tch thanks." Levi mumbled, you pictured him running a hand down his face as he tried to wake up.

"you're welcome birthday boy." you teased as you fell back onto your pillows.

"shut up." Levi scoffed, you could hear his footsteps as he walked through the apartment, presumably to get his morning cup of black tea.

"you know you love it." you sighed.

"keep telling yourself that." Levi's voice was becoming clearer now that he was more awake.

"I think that I will." you answered with a light laugh.

"you still going to that party tomorrow?" Levi interrogated, you groaned. You had almost forgotten how he liked to stick his nose in your business, even when he was across the fucking ocean.

"Yeah what about it?" you huffed, feeling a bit defensive.

"Shouldn't you stay with your family or some shit." Levi sounded frustrated.

"My mom said I could go." you pouted childishly.

"Whatever." Levi grunted, and you frowned, unsure of where his frustration was coming form.

"Aw come on no need to be jealous, I'm sure you can find some rager in Paris. Not like you'll be missing much here." you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hmph." Levi scoffed, you could hear the tinkling of his spoon as he stirred his tea.

"So....when are you due to be home?" you asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

"Next week." Levi's tone was clipped.

"I'm so jealous." you sighed dreamily.

"Yeah Paris is way better than Shiganshina." Levi responded nonchalantly, you weren't sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. Either way he was telling the truth.

"No need to rub it in my face." you chuckled.

"Tch." He scoffed, you liked to imagine him smiling as he did so, even if he wasn't.

"Well I hope that this next week goes by fast, as much as I hate to admit it I've... missed you." you confessed, the tips of your ears scorching hot with embarrassment. The silence was deafening as you waited for him to say something, hell anything even if it was making fun of you.

"Whatever." he huffed, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at the sound of his baritone voice.

"Just don't stay out late tomorrow." he quipped and you frowned, why did he care how late you stayed out?

"No need to worry about me, I'll probably just stay sober with Mikasa." You told him, only half honest.

"Never said I was worried about you." Levi sighed.

"Hmph fine be like that." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, not surprised with his response.

"Be like what?" He asked, genuinely curious what you meant.

"Like an ass." you quipped.

"Tch I'll quite being an ass when you stop being such a brat." Levi snapped, clearly you were approaching dangerous territory.

"Okay okay chill." you muttered, backing down before things got too heated.

"You're the one that brought it up.." Levi pointed out.

"Yeah and now I'm regretting that" you sighed, wishing he wouldn't be so stubborn for once. He sighed as well and you heard a small clatter on his end of the line, you figured he was starting the dishes.

"Look I've got some shit to do, I'll call you later okay?" Levi's voice was a tad strained and in the moment of silence you heard the sound of Isabel and Farlan bickering in hushed tones.

"Y-Yeah sure of course." you couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"Happy birthday Levi." you wished him once more.

"Thanks, talk to you later brat." and with that he hung up, leaving you totally alone in your dark room. You plugged your phone in and rolled over onto your side, he could be so annoying. You inhaled sharply and decided that you would enjoy the party tomorrow to it's fullest. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

___

"Hey can I borrow your lip gloss?" you asked Mikasa as you leaned forward to apply another coat of mascara to your lashes.

"Sure which one?" she asked as she pulled her hair into high pigtails on top of her head.

"The cherry one." you answered after a moment of contemplation. She finished her hair before reaching into her makeup bag and pulled out the tube of clear gloss.

"Thanks." you said as you took the make up from her. You didn't usually put this much effort into your appearance when you went to parties but you figured since it was the first time you would be going to Annie's that this was a special occasion. Also you had a sneaking suspicion that two of your exes would be there and you at least wanted to look hot if you were going to get black out.

Plus Mikasa was also dressed up, she wore a tight fitting black top with long sleeves and a low cut neck line that showed off her pale collarbones and neck. She had chosen to wear a choker that had metallic studs surrounding the black leather along with some other layered necklaces. To match her top she had selected a red plaid skirt and some torn tights. You weren't dressed nearly as edgy as she was, but you too had gone for a grungier look. You'd opted to wear a tattered pair of mom jeans along with a black cropped tank and an oversized flannel to cover your shoulders.

You sighed as you finished applying the gloss and frowned, Eren and Armin were in the next room over blasting Post Malone. You assumed that Eren was on aux since Armin usually listened to Surfaces or Khalid.

"You ready?" Mikasa asked as she pulled on her Doc Martens and double checked her earrings.

"Yeah." you assured her as you stood up to grab your small backpack with an extra change of comfy clothes in case you ended up staying the night. The two of you left the room and knocked on Eren's door that was down the hall.

"Just a minute!" Armin's shrill voice sounded a bit panicked but Mikasa simply shrugged and headed towards the kitchen. The Jeager's house was a ranch style house with one main floor and a nice basement. The two of you waited patiently in the kitchen for the boys, it was already well past nine. You scrolled through your snapchat, most of the stories were the regular group picture of friends having a sleepover, the druggie kids showing off their weed, and of course Sasha and Connie posted a video showcasing the house party at Annie's. From what the short video showed, her house was dark except for some LED lights that flashed through multiple different colors. The music was deafening, and the kids that you could see seemed to be swaying to the pulsing music.Sasha spun the camera around as she knocked back a shot with her arm around Connie who blew a puff of vapor at the camera.

"Looks fun." Mikasa scoffed, you knew that she preferred more low-key parties.

"If you end up not liking it we can always dip." You shrugged, knowing that this wasn't exactly your speed either. Mikasa hummed in agreement and turned to look down the hallway as Eren's door opened. The boys emerged from Eren's room, Eren wore a pair of black jeans and a dark forrest green long sleeved shirt. Armin wore a baby blue knit sweater with a collared shirt underneath and black jeans as well.

"All set?" Mikasa asked as she turned to pull out a bottle of titos with a cute little sweater over it. You smiled at the cute accessory and nodded.

"Yep!" you said popping the p as the four of you all made your way out to Eren's car. You slid into the back seat next to Armin who was fiddling with the hem of his sweater nervously. Eren resumed his hype music as Mikasa backed out of the drive way. Eren pulled out his puff bar as soon as the car was out of the drive and took a long drag. Mikasa scoffed and cracked the window for him. He blew the billow of smoke out the window and reached to turn the music up. He reached back and dangled the puff for you to take, after a brief moment of hesitation you accepted it and cracked your window before taking a hit. Armin watched with wide eyes as you inhaled and blew the vapor out the crack.

"Since when did you vape?" Armin asked, his mouth agape in awe.

"I don't...at least not regularly." You admitted sheepishly.

"That's what they all say." Eren chuckled, smoke curling out from his lips as he smirked.

"Shut up I'm serious!" you snapped a playful smile on your face. Thankfully Annie's house wasn't far away, about a twenty minute drive. You pulled up to the house, it was huge. Standing at least three stories tall, with a long winding driveway. Mikasa pulled up behind one of the many cars in the drive way and parked the car. Mikasa led the way around to the side door, which was unlocked, piled of shoes littered the hallway. The sound of loud music greeted you as you walked into the kitchen on the main floor to set the alcohol you'd brought down. The real party was in the basement.

The lights were off, leaving the only source of light to be the flickering LED lights, you couldn't even tell who was who. The air was heavy with the mingling aromas of cologne, vapes, and weed. Armin practically clung to you as the four of you waded through the crowd to get to the seating area in the center of the room. As you got closer the overpowering scent of weed assaulted your nose. There on the large L shaped couch was Annie, she held a large bong to her lips as Bertolt held the lighter under the weed, she inhaled deeply and the bong bubbled. She pulled back and blew a puff of smoke right in Reiner's face, the blonde's face scrunched up in disgust as he turned away to cough.

"Yo." Annie greeted Mikasa who leaned down to dap her up. Once Annie had greeted Mikasa she turned her attention to Eren who was eyeing the bong.

"You want a drag?" Annie offered, patting the sofa next to her. Eren nodded and dropped down between her and Bertolt, who once again struck the lighter for Eren. Mikasa rolled her eyes and waited patiently for Eren to finish his drag. Once the bong was out of the way she lowered herself down onto his lap and pulled her puff bar out to take a long drag. Armin shifted awkwardly behind you and tugged on your sleeve.

"Want to go get something to drink?" he yelled over the booming music, you glanced at the bong longingly but decided that Armin needed you right now so you nodded in agreement.

"Sure." the two of you pushed through the crowd to the minibar where an impressive amount of liquor was waiting. You poured some Bacardi into a glass of and added some pineapple and orange concentrates before handing the cup to Armin. He thanked you and quickly got to work on finishing the mixed drink. You poured yourself a rum and coke and then two shots of Malibu for you and Armin to take. The two of you knocked back the shots before wandering back over towards the couch. The crowd had thinned out a bit, something about watching a movie in Annie's in home movie theater.

"-No that's bullshit, I know for a fact that you pissed your pants in the second grade Eren!" your eyebrows shot into your hairline at the words leaving Annie's mouth.

"Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I don't notice shit." She huffed as she lifted the juul in her hand to her lips and took a long drag.

"I-"

"Just take the L Eren we all remember." Bertolt shook his head and chuckled at Eren's flushed cheeks. You glanced at Mikasa, usually she would defend Eren but she seemed content to let him struggle through this one on his own, still perched on his lap.

"We've all had accidents before." Armin said with an awkward chuckle as he sat down beside Annie, who looked at him with a blank expression.

"Like that time you tripped down the stairs and broke both your legs in fourth grade?" Annie quipped, a small smirk curling onto her lips. You choked on your drink at Annie's remark, she was an absolute savage.

"Exactly..." Armin flushed, lifting his own cup to his lips. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you were too invested in the conversation to be bothered to pick it up.

"Want a hit?" Annie offered the bong to you, you nodded. Although you'd never had weed before, you'd tried asking Levi for some of his but he always denied you. Annie held her hand out to Bertolt who placed the lighter in his open palm. She packed some more weed into the bowl before handing you the bong.

"You ever done this before?" She asked as she kneeled in front of you. You shook your head,

"Okay so I'll tell you when to inhale, and you've got to take a huge breath so you can get the smoke in your system. But then you'll have to take another breath to get it in your lungs." she instructed as she pressed the weed deeper into the bowl.

"Okay." you agreed, she nodded and struck the lighter, holding the flame over the weed in the bowl. You pressed your lips to the mouth piece and waited for her instructions.

"Inhale." she said once the weed was lit. You sucked in a big breath and the water in the bong bubbled. The smoke burned the insides of your throat as you inhaled it, you pulled the bong off your mouth and sucked in once more to get the smoke into your lungs. She nodded in approval as you coughed, smoke curling out of your mouth.

"Not bad for your first time." she commented as she took the bong from you and passed it to Mikasa who took a long drag before passing it to Bertolt.

"Thanks, that stuff burns." you coughed, Annie sat down next to you on the couch and draped her arm over the back. You felt the buzz from the weed and the shots you'd taken earlier, making your head spin a bit. Annie's thigh brushed against your own, you tried to focus on what she was wearing, a pair of grey sweats and a cute cropped peachy colored tank top with spaghetti straps.

"I like your top." you complimented, her hand fell from the back of the couch to your shoulders.

"Thanks." she said, turning to gauge your reaction to her touch. You swallowed a bit nervously, you'd known Annie since kindergarten, but you'd never really been friends before, she was always so quiet.

"I always thought you were a good kid." Annie smirked, her eyes a bit playful.

"What made you think that?" You giggled, shuffling closer to her.

"Your brother is like the school's golden boy, and you are always in all the honors classes." she shrugged, you frowned. You were used to people coming up with these assumptions. She was right though, you did take honor classes, but that didn't mean you couldn't party!

"I guess...But that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy partying." you countered.

"I suppose." she chuckled, taking a hit from her juul and blowing the smoke away from your face. Your phone rang in your pocket and you frowned, as you dug it out of your pocket. Your frown deepened at the sight of Hange's contact lighting up your screen.

"Hang on I should take this." you apologized, moving to stand up to find a quiet place to answer the phone. Annie snatched your wrist and pulled you back down on the sofa, the room spun as you fell back down and slumped against her shoulder.

"Slow down there sweetheart." Annie chuckled as you leaned against her.

"I got to go answer my-"

"Nah just stay here, enjoy yourself." Annie pulled you closer, but your head was too foggy to protest, thoughts of your phone already fading into the back of your mind as Annie held the bong to your lips once more.

__

"She's still not answering." Hange chewed on her knuckle as she glanced at Erwin who was gripping the steering wheel. His brows were knit tightly together with worry, Levi shifted in the back seat, tapping his fingers impatiently.

"This is stupid, she can wait until tomorrow to see me." Levi huffed, trying his best to sound indifferent.

"Oh don't say that Levi." Hange frowned as she looked back at Levi, her eyes deep with worry.

"Don't worry about it." Levi grunted, turning his attention back to his phone. He opened snapchat, and scrolled through the stories. His eyes widened slightly when he stopped on Sasha's story, the video of the party played, he found himself looking for your silhouette among the swaying bodies. He tapped on his screen, expecting to move on to the next story, only to find a new video, added to her story less than ten minutes ago. A video of you with a red solo cup in one hand, and a juul in the other. You were leaned up against a blonde girl who was pushing a bottle of Pink Whitney against you, the pink alcohol sloshing in the glass.

"Come on (Y/n) finish it off!" Sasha encouraged as the other kids on the couch picked up on her chant.

"Finish it, Finish it." the crowd cheered as you sat down the cup and took the bottle from the blonde. You looked at the camera as Sasha shuffled closer.

"No pa-paparazzi please." you giggled, hiccuping half way through your sentence. You lifted the bottle to your lips and tilted your head back, the liquid spilled down your front, making your skin glisten in the colorful lights as you chugged the alcohol you managed to get in your mouth.

"Fuck yeah!!!" Sasha jeered, spinning the camera around to her face. The video ended and Levi felt his blood boil. He'd never seen you so out of it before and he hated it. He hated how easily you had given into doing something so stupid, he hated the sight of the juul in your fist, he hated the way the girl's arm was tightly wrapped around your waist, but most of all he hated that he wasn't there.

"Wait, I think Sasha's snap map is on." Hange mumbled, her phone screen casting a pale glow over her glasses as she zoomed in on Sasha's bitmoji. Sure enough Sasha's bitmoji was on the map, surrounded by at least twenty other bitmojis gathered in one location.

"Okay let's head that way then." Erwin sighed as he started the car and backed out of his parking spot in the airport parking lot. Erwin pulled out of the small airport that was about thirty minutes away from your town and set off towards Annie's house. Thankfully Annie lived on the outskirts of town so it wasn't as far of a drive. It wasn't long before Erwin was pulling up a long winding drive that was full of cars. He parked at the back of the line of cars and got out of the car with a heavy slam of his door. Levi slammed the back door of the minivan as hard as he could, the two of them marched up the driveway silently with Hange following nervously.

"You guys please slow down it's icy out here." Hange begged as she slipped on one of the steps to the side door. The three of them piled into the house, Hange knew it was bad when Levi didn't bother to kick his shoes off before continuing towards the basement steps. Erwin stormed down the steps, the music getting louder as they descended. Erwin paused at the bottom of the steps to take in the scene, cups littered the floor, the room was hazy with smoke from juuls and the scent of weed clung to the air. A group of partygoers was crowded onto the couch, Levi's eyes narrowed onto the back of your head.

"Yoooo that's ice cold." Eren's loud voice could be heard over the music as the teens passed the bong between one another.

"No it's the truth." you slurred, the empty bottle of alcohol still in your fist.

"Well sorryyy that I forgot that I had gum in my mouth." Connie said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"You're an idiot." Sasha laughed boisterously as she shoved a handful of pretzels into her mouth.

"damn straight." Annie agreed, taking the empty bottle from you and setting it on the coffee table. Erwin stalked across the room and stood behind Bertolt, who was now on the floor. The conversation came to a halt at the sight of the uninvited guests.

"Woah I think I'm seeing things." you said, tilting your head downwards as you tried to understand why you were seeing your brother.

"Me too." Reiner agreed, his own distant gaze honing in on his team captain.

"Get up we're going home." Erwin's voice was cold and commanding as he glowered at you.

"I don't wanna leave." your eyes hardened with denial. Erwin stepped over Bertolt, once he had moved your eyes landed on Levi, who was glaring at you with those dark eyes.

"I'm definitely seeing things." you grunted as Erwin pulled you off the couch and away from Annie's warmth.

"Hey man she said she didn't want to go." Annie snarled, jumping to her feet, her icy blue eyes sharp.

"Yeah well she's drunk as shit and doesn't know what she's saying." Levi snapped back at Annie, who had a hand clamped down around your arm. Hange shifted nervously behind the couch as she watched the scene unfold.

"You need to leave." Annie growled, pointing a finger at the stairs.

"That's what we're trying to do dumb ass." Levi growled, taking a step closer to the circle of teens.

"Leave her alone she can make her own decisions." Reiner quipped, rising to his own feet.

"Stay out of this Braun." Erwin ordered, releasing you so he could turn and face Reiner.

"I'm just saying, she chose to come here on her own and she's enjoying herself so let her be." Reiner shrugged.

"She's had enough tonight." Erwin countered, shifting his gaze back to you as you swayed on your feet.

"No I haven't" you frowned up at Erwin.

"Yes you have. We're leaving end of discussion." he said with finality, once more reaching for your wrist.

"I'm not leaving Erwin." you protested, pulling yourself free from his grasp. He snatched your wrist once more and tugged you away from the circle. You gasped and stumbled after him, the protests of your friends echoing loudly in your head. Erwin hauled you up the stairs and out the side door, Levi and Hange close on your heels. He only slowed once you were walking down the driveway. You wrenched yourself free once more with a strangled cry.

"I said I don't want to leave!" you screamed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

"You always embarrass me in front of my friends just give me this one night!" you cried, the cold air making your face beet red.

"You'll thank me later." He said simply before turning to continue down the driveway.

"No I won't I'm going back inside." you turned on your heel and marched back towards the door, only for Levi to catch your wrist.

"You've had enough for one night." He scolded as you struggled against his hold. Hange chewed on her bottom lip with worry at the sight, this was not how she planned your reunion.

"Levi let me go." you said with finality as you met his eyes.

"No, you're going home." Levi's voice was tense.

"No I'm not."

"(Y/n) you're going home and that's final." Erwin sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. You spun around and glared at him.

"You're not my fucking dad Erwin so quit acting like it! Jesus it's so annoying I'm tired of it!" you screamed, your chest heaving with frustration, your breath coming out with puffs of vapor. Hange and Levi stood deathly still, knowing that the topic of your father was a sensitive one.

"Fine be that way." Erwin snarled and marched to the van and climbed in with a slam of his door. Hange rushed to get in the car without a second glance over her shoulder. Levi remained firmly rooted to the ground, his hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist as you cried.

"Get out of here Levi." you sobbed, shaking your arm to throw his hand off. He finally let you go, his head tilted down to the ground. You huffed, wrapping your arms around your chest before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the house. Levi stood there a moment longer just listening to the sound of your receding footsteps before he padded back to Erwin's car and slid into the backseat.

__

Your head was spinning as you pressed your back against the bathroom door, your lip quivering as you tried to contain your tears. You knew that you'd hurt both Erwin's and Levi's feelings, you also knew that they were only trying to help you. But there was only so much help you could except from them without them toeing the line between helpful and overbearing. You slid down the door with a whimper, you hugged you knees to your chest and rested your chin on top of them. A knock startled you out of your moping,

"(Y/n)? You in there?" You groaned when you recognize Jean's voice.

"Open the door please." He said softly and you felt more tears fall down your cheeks as you reached up for the knob to unlock the door. The lock clicked and you shuffled to lean agains the wall so he could open the door.

"Hey" he said as he stuck his head in, his amber eyes soft with worry.

"Hey" you sniffled, turning your head up to meet his gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asked, slipping into the small bathroom and closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of you, his elbows propped on his own knees as he got onto your level.

"Well for starters, you kissed someone else when we were talking." you said a bit venomously. He cringed and plopped down to sit criss cross applesauce instead.

"I'm sorry I know that I shouldn't have done that but, I've been really confused....like sexually I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and your frowned.

"I know, but it still hurt my feelings." you mumbled, a few fresh tears falling from your watery eyes.

"I shouldn't have led you on like that, it was a real jerk move." Jean agreed, his eyes still soft and comforting. You'd missed being his friend you realized as you sat on the cold tile.

"I've missed talking to you." you spoke your mind, managing a small smile.

"Me too, let's be friends again?" he proposed, offering his hand to you. Your smile grew wider as you extended your own hand to grasp his. You shook hands briefly.

"So are you and Marco a couple now?" you asked.

"Sort of.." Jean chuckled.

"You want to go back to the party now?" He asked, jutting a thumb towards the door. You nodded, although now you were beginning to sober up. He stood and offered his hands to help you to your feet. You accepted his hands and he pulled you to your feet. The two of you walked slowly down the steps to rejoin the circle of teens in the living room. Jean stopped at the bottom of the stairs his hand held loosely in your own. He squeezed your hand, asking for your attention. You turned and faced him, a questioning look on your face.

"You've got some-" He chuckled, lifting his thumb to his mouth and licking it before wiping away some rogue mascara off your cheeks. You gasped in mock offense as he wiped away the makeup.

"You're not my mom." you teased, pulling your face free as you turned to head back into the fray, trusting that Jean got all the black marks off your face.

"Nobody could replace Angie." Jean agreed as he followed you into the basement. The group of previously rowdy teens was now subdued due to your brother and his meddling party crasher friends.

"Hey look who's back!" Reiner greeted, causing all the heads to turn back to you. You smiled sheepishly and dropped back into your seat next to Annie.

"You alright?" She asked, her eyes scanning you meticulously for any signs of injury.

"Yeah I'm- I'll be alright." you stumbled over your words as the group watched you carefully.

"You want a uh beer or something?" Connie asked, lifting up an unopened can.

"No she doesn't you idiot!" Sasha snapped, elbowing Connie harshly.

"Ow well I was just trying to make her feel better!" Connie cried, turning to tackle Sasha. The two began to tussle, rolling around on the floor grunting as they struggled. You smiled, the pair never failed to make you happy. Annie draped her arm over you again as the boys began to place bets on who would come out victorious.

"If Sasha wins you've got to drink one of Connie's mixed drinks!" Eren said, leaning over to Bertolt who scoffed, his boyish features contorting with disgust. Connie was known for making the worst mixed drinks.

"You're on Jeager." he reached over Reiner and the two shook in agreement before turning their attention to the scuffle.

"Come on Sasha!" Eren jeered as Sasha bit down hard on Connie's hand. The boy yelped and tried to desperately pry her locked jaws off his hand. He gave up quickly and resorted to hitting her head with his closed fist, his face wild with panic.

"Tickle her neck" Mikasa suggested as she lifted a red solo cup to her lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, Mikasa usually kept quiet during these scuffles, unless of course it was Eren being thrown around. Connie's free hand flew down to Sasha's armpit and immediately Sasha released his other hand to roll away from him. Connie regained the upper hand, pinning Sasha beneath him as he tickled her ruthlessly. Jean groaned and slapped a wad of bills into Reiner's open palm as Sasha slapped the ground in defeat. Connie threw his hands into the air and rolled off Sasha who was fighting for breath.

"Traitor" she moaned, her brown eyes glaring at Mikasa who shrugged indifferently. Eren groaned and frowned at Mikasa.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked as Bertolt looked relieved. Mikasa shrugged once more a sly smile on her face as Eren pushed her off his lap.

"So" Connie jumped to his feet and clapped his hands together.

"About that drink." he turned and strutted over to the mini bar, followed by a sulking Eren and a smug Bertolt. You turned to Sasha who was now straddling Mikasa her hands around Mikasa's shoulders as she jostled the girl.

"Come on Mikasa why'd you sell me out like that?" she whined as she shook the girl, Mikasa's drink sloshing in her cup. Mikasa smiled as her eyes drifted to the group of boys, Connie had a large bottle of Tito's and a two liter of Mt. Dew in his hands as he inspected the two, his face scrunched up with concentration.

"Come on Sasha it's not like you wouldn't do the same if it were me." Mikasa scoffed with a roll of her eyes. You snorted at Mikasa's response, knowing that she was indeed correct. Sasha gasped and shook Mikasa harder.

"I would never do that to you! Besides you would win in any fight you fought." Sasha objected, leaning back on Mikasa's lap her arms extended.

"Psh whatever." Annie scoffed, a playful smirk on her lips.

"Not all of us are masters at kickboxing." Sasha pouted as she climbed off Mikasa's lap and dropped onto the empty space next to her. You knew that Mikasa had participated in the sport for the past few years, but you were confused when Sasha looked between Annie and Mikasa.

"What you didn't know?" Annie asked with a smirk. You shook your head,

"No I guess I don't know." you laughed as Annie licked her lips and she threw her arm back over your shoulders.

"Mikasa and I are on the same kickboxing club." She shrugged as you settled back into her side. Your mouth opened into an 'o' shape in realization as Annie dug her juul out of her pocket and took a hit. Mikasa nodded in agreement, her eyes shifting back over to the boys, who were laughing loudly as Eren chugged a cup of mystery liquid.

"Really? I had no idea." you said as you followed Mikasa's gaze. Eren was now leaned over gagging as Armin patted his back with a worried expression.

"-You dodged a bullet there!" Reiner quipped as he patted Bertolt's back as the tall boy watched with a disgusted face.

"Hey where did Ymir and Krista run off to?" Sasha asked, whipping her head around to look for the pair.

"Probably making out in some corner." Reiner scoffed as he dropped back onto the sofa, the rest of the boys rejoining the group as well. You nodded in agreement, it was no secret that the pair had been seeing each other recently.

"Guess so." Sasha sighed, slumping back into the sofa, throwing a glare at Connie who was now seated next to her with an arm over the back of the couch. Eren and Armin were the only once unaccounted for, you assumed that they had fled to the bathroom given the state Eren had been in after drinking Connie's concoction. Jean had managed to slip away with all the commotion, probably to return to Marco. Annie sighed, glancing at her phone with a frown, it was well past three at this point and you were starting to feel the fatigue.

"Well I think that I'm heading off to bed." Annie yawned, the others seemed to be mellowing out as well.

"You guys can crash here or my brother's room is open as well as my sisters rooms." She said as she stood up. You immediately missed her warmth as she lingered by the couch.

"I call Eric's room!" Sasha perked up, also standing up to run towards Annie's younger brother's room.

"No fair!" Connie yelled, giving chase. Mikasa sighed and stood up as well.

"I'd better go check on Eren and Armin." She mumbled as she stalked off towards the bathroom.

"Are you staying the night then?" Annie asked you as you also stood up, not sure if you should go after Mikasa.

"I'm not sure, Mikasa was going to take me back to her place..."

"You can sleep in my room with me." She offered, tilting her head towards the stairs. You bit your lip as you weighed your options. Mikasa had been drinking and smoking and you knew that she wasn't stupid enough to drive so you figured that you weren't leaving any more.

"We'll sleep in Sarah's room." Reiner said as he and Bertolt began to retreat up the stairs. Leaving just you and Annie in the basement living room, she raised a brow as she waited for your answer.

"No pressure." She said as she began to walk towards the stairs.

"Yeah I'll sleep with you." you blurted as you jogged to catch up to Annie. She smirked at your wording and you flushed.

"Not like that!" you slapped her arm as she led the way up to the top floor which was a maze of closed doors. She slipped into one of the closed doors, into a large bedroom with a queen sized bed in the center of the room. She emptied her pockets before climbing into bed, pulling the covers back for the both of you. You slid into the open side and sat your phone on the bedside table. Annie sighed with relief as she nestled into the covers, scrolling through her phone as you closed your eyes in an attempt to sleep. After a few minutes Annie put her phone down and rolled over, now her front was facing your back.

"You awake?" She whispered, you rolled over to face her as well.

"Yeah" you answered, resting your head on your arm as you focused on her features as best as you could in the dim lighting.

"You wanna make out?" she asked, your eyes widened in shock. You weren't sure if she was being serious or not.

"For real?" you blinked rapidly as Annie shuffled closer and pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

"I mean yeah." she huffed a shy smile on her face. You pursed your lips in thought, you had never kissed a girl before, and it wasn't like the thought of doing so had never crossed your mind. You shrugged and leaned slightly into her touch.

"Yes or no." She said as she propped herself up on her elbow so she was looking down on you.

"Sure." you agreed, she leaned down as soon as the words left your lips. Her lips were so soft compared to the boys that you'd kissed in the past. Her hand that had been in your hair now traced over your cheek bones as she licked your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for her to slip her tongue in, the taste of weed and pink whitney mingling on her breath. You met her tongue a bit timidly as she licked your bottom teeth. She pulled back after a moment to readjust herself so that she was now laying down on top of you, caging you in her arms as she leaned down to kiss your chin.

"You're so cute." she mused, her lips pressed against the corner of your mouth.

"You're really pretty" you breathed as her lips hovered over your own once more before connecting her lips with yours once more.

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.