#I know we talk about these nerds non stop but seriously you nailed him <£

[greycappedjester]

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do. 

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better. 

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic.  And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life. 

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist. 

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….” 

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck. 

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere. 

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time. 

In other words, it was a normal morning. 

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt. 

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider. 

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

 It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.” 

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web. 

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore. 

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”

[wizardnuke]

sickfic prompt 38 “Just let me take care of you why are you so stubborn.” for rhodeytonypepper??

“Pep-”

“I’m fine.”

“Pepper,” Tony said. 

“Tony,” she replied, matching his tone without looking away from her tablet. “I need to get this done.”

“I can do it for you,” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. I will. You need to rest.”

“I’m resting. I’m on the couch. I have chicken noodle soup on the table beside me and DayQuil running through my system.” She glanced up at him for a moment. “And I need to finish this.”

“Let her work, Tones,” Rhodey said from the other side of the couch. He was folding laundry with a fraction of his usual efficiency, and acting like he wasn’t having any problems at all. He had a high fever, he was going to have problems, but he shooed Tony away whenever he tried to help. 

He dropped the washcloth he was folding, bent down to pick it up, and swayed when he sat back up. His eyes unfocused for a moment, and he shook his head slightly, and then kept working. Tony sort of wanted to scream.

He looked back and forth at them, and he knew he looked nervous and clingy, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. “But she’s sick. You’re sick.”

“We’re okay. It’s just a cold,” Rhodey replied. “Not even the worst ones we’ve had.”

“You don’t know that yet,” Tony muttered. He put his hands on his hips, thinking, then: “J, how are their fevers?”

Pepper breathed out through her nose in that way she did when she was annoyed and only sort of trying not to show it.

“Ms. Potts has a low-grade fever of a hundred point one. Mr. Rhodes has a fever of a hundred and two.” 

“I feel fine,” Rhodey said. His hands were shaking, his grip strength was weak. Why was he still working? Why was Pepper still working? They were sick, they needed to rest to get better and they weren’t going to get better if they kept trying to keep busy. They were going to get worse, Pepper had already been sick for three days and Rhodey for two, if they didn’t rest-

“There,” Rhodey said to himself. Oh, good, he’d finished doing the laundry, maybe he would lay down and go to sleep for a bit. Tony stepped forward and picked up the blankets that he’d folded on his first load, ready to put them to use. Rhodey picked up a stack of pants, shifted to the edge of his seat, and eyed Tony warily.

“No,” Tony said. Were his hands tingling? Why were his hands tingling?

“Tony,” Rhodey sighed. Pepper made a vaguely annoyed and agreeing noise.

“You’re sick,” he said again. “I can put those away.”

“I can’t just sit here.”

“Why not?”

“Do you want help?” Pepper asked, looking over to him. Rhodey opened his mouth to reply, looking like he was going to say yes, and-

“Just let me take care of you! Why are you so stubborn?” Tony burst out. His spouses both paused and looked at him, startled. “God! And you call me a workaholic, really. Un-fucking-believable.” He dropped the blankets between them with a huff, then stepped back and pointed at Rhodey, who was looking at him with a mixture of alarm and amusement, and he did not appreciate it. He was not in the mood to be laughed at, not for this. “You! You have a fever of a hundred and two. You’re acting like you’re not graying out every time that you get up to get the laundry or do the dishes, and I know that you are because the last time you tried to walk through it I saw you almost collide with the kitchen counter. So sit down and stay there. I can do the dishes, I can put the laundry away.” His voice cracked.

“...yeah, okay,” Rhodey said, his amusement gone and concern evident in his expression. He sat back. “Read you loud and clear.”

Tony didn’t acknowledge his response. He turned to Pepper. She had turned the tablet off and was watching him with her head cocked to the side and eyebrows knitted together. “And you are going to work yourself into an early grave. You got sick in the first place because you’ve been working non-stop for three weeks,” he waved a hand, “thank you for that, you are a brilliant CEO and I’m so glad that you’re running SI, but you aren’t going to get better unless you take a break and rest. I know that neither of you like inactivity. I get that, I do, you’re both brilliant and I love you very much and I want you to get better.” He took a step back and crossed his arms tightly. He took a deep breath. “Please.”

“Oh, honey,” Pepper murmured.

“Tones,” Rhodey said softly, like he was talking to a spooked animal, which made Tony want to snap at him but he didn’t because he was sick, his face was ashy with exhaustion and nausea, probably, and should Tony have yelled at him? Well, he hadn’t yelled, he wouldn’t do that, but he had been speaking pretty forcefully and what if he was going to stress them both out and they’d get even more sick, he was going to make it worse and they would take longer to get better and what if-

“Hey. Hey, nope, don’t check out on us now,” Rhodey said firmly. Tony snapped back to reality, where there wasn’t just static and constant, unending regret. “Tony.” He pulled a blanket off of the stack and spread it over his lap, and Pepper did the same, still watching him with soft eyes. “Sit.” 

He blinked again.

“Tony,” Pepper murmured. “Sit. Just for a second.”

Tony sat. Rhodey turned to him and took his hands in his too-warm ones. Pepper pressed her shoulder against his back and leaned her head on the back of his shoulder. “Listen to me. I’m about to drop a truth bomb on you, okay? You ready?”

“Sorry,” Tony said, and he shook his head. 

“We’re not upset with you,” Pepper said. “We needed to hear that, and we’re going to listen,” Tony relaxed a little, relieved, “but you need to listen to us for a moment, too.”

“...okay,” he said.

Rhodey’s expression was serious, and concerned, and Tony saw understanding there, too. “Hey.” He squeezed his hands. “Out of the three of us, you have the worst immune system.” Pepper nodded against his back. “It’s bad when you get sick. You don’t bounce back easily, you always end up bedridden, and you have to be hospitalized more often than not.” He smiled wearily. “But neither I nor Pepper have reduced lung capacity like you do. Neither of us have a history of getting pneumonia or bronchitis from a cold, or even the flu. Even if it’s bad, we don’t get as sick as you do and we will get better. Okay?”

“You don’t get as sick as I do,” Tony repeated, slowly, because he hadn’t thought of that at all. Of course they didn’t. They were healthy, they could- they could breathe when they got sick. Tony couldn’t. He’d forgotten that that wasn’t normal.

Rhodey nodded. Pepper hummed in agreement and rubbed her face against his shoulder like a cat.

“We understand why you’re scared, and it’s a good reason to be,” she said, “but we’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m not scared,” he objected, more for show than anything. It was weak. Rhodey rolled his eyes. It made him feel a little better.

“You are.” Her tone was blunt. “It makes sense. We don’t fault you for it, and we understand why you’re mother-henning us-”

“I’m not-”

“You are. It’s okay, we don’t really mind it, but you can’t get yourself so worked up about this, honey.” She turned to press her chest against his back, and she circled her arms around his waist. Her forehead pressed against the back of his neck, she was warmer than she had been before this, and he made himself take a deep breath. “It’s not healthy. You’re not going to make us more sick if you sit down and tell us that you’re really worried. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice you were so upset.”

“Me too. Tell us before it gets to this point and you give yourself a minor heart attack,” Rhodey said, and his warm tone didn’t match his teasing words. He was still holding his hands. Tony didn’t consider pulling away. “Okay?”

Tony ducked his head. “Yeah, okay,” he said. 

“And you’re right.” Pepper’s voice was muffled against his back. She sounded tired. “I shouldn’t be working, it’s just gonna stress me out more. I have people who can do my job for a couple of days- you might have to do some paperwork.”

“Done,” Tony said. He felt her smile. 

“I get restless,” Rhodey said, “but you’re right, I almost passed out last time I got up.”

“Don’t do that,” Tony said, a little helplessly. “I can find something easy for you to do, or you can tell me to get you a- a puzzle or a Rubik’s cube or something.”

“A Rubik’s cube,” Rhodey repeated, a smile growing on his stupidly cute face. “Because I’m how old, again?”

“Oh, shut up, I’ll get a couple of the six-by-six ones and race you.” Rhodey’s eyes brightened with interest. Nerd. 

“Could he beat you?” Pepper asked, sounding genuinely curious. Tony paused, considering.

“Say no,” Rhodey said.

“No,” he repeated obediently. She snorted. Rhodey tilted his chin up in challenge. Tony didn’t really know why everyone thought he was the cocky bastard when Rhodey was right there. 

Tony turned away from him and he slumped against the back of the couch, still smiling, still cocky, but tired. Pepper leaned back to let him move, and then when he was also sitting with his back to the couch, draped herself over his lap. Her head rested on Rhodey’s thigh, and he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“Got any instructions for me, Mr. Stark?” She asked in a very, very poor imitation of her usual businesslike tone. Her face was fever-flushed. Tony bumped his shoulder into Rhodey’s with a hum.

“Well, Ms. Potts, I think you should take some time off,” he said, nailing his own usual I’m the boss tone, thank you very much. “I have other people who can do your job, you know.”

“‘re you replacing me, Mr. Stark?” She slurred. He huffed and rubbed at her back. He was going to get them both a cold compress, and some headache medication, because he recognized the tightness around Rhodey’s eyes and the way that Pepper pressed her temple against his thigh. He pressed his palm to the nape of her neck for a moment to test her fever- a little too warm for comfort in his opinion, and she relaxed a little bit more. Rhodey put his arm around Tony’s shoulders and leaned against him.

He was going to move. In a little bit. Soon. “Certainly not, Ms. Potts. You’re irreplaceable.”

[ashis2gay4u]

Heroes Of Olympus Heathers! AU

Here's the character list, in case people get confused:

Veronica: Percy Jackson

JD: Nico di Angelo

Martha D: Annabeth Chase

Heather C: Nancy Bobofit

Heather M: Silena Beauregard

Heather D: Drew Tanaka

Ram S: Luke Castellan

Kurt K: Octavian Augur

Big Bud Dean: Hades di Angelo

Veronica's Mom: Sally Jackson

Veronica's Dad: Poseidon Jackson

Kurt and Ram's Dad's: Hermes Castellan / Jeremy Augur

Ms. Fleming: Hecate Hearths

Principal Gowan: Zeus Skyson

'[text]' signifies what Percy is writing in his journal.

Now, on to the story!!

~

Percy Jackson stepped into the high-school, taking a deep breath as he tightened his grip on his open journal and pen. Another first day at Hell.

A boy bumped into him, one of the jocks.

Percy froze, and glared at him, "Hey, don't be a dick-"

The jock laughed, "What did you just say to me, bitch?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Percy replied, inching away, realizing who he was.

"That's what I thought, wimp," he said, smirking. His best friend walked up to them, and pushed Percy into a locker.

'Introducing Octavian Augur, the lead quarterback of the football team, and his best friend Luke Castellan, the captain.'

'Octavian allows his dick to lead him everywhere, and has a sense of cruelty regarding everybody. He's also the smartest guy on the football team, which is like being the tallest dwarf. Luke is charming, but is obsessed with being known. He did everything and anything to make sure people knew where he stood, and who he was.'

"What you got there, sissy? A diary?" Luke laughed, pointing at it.

"What a fag," Octavian added, knocking it out of his hands.

Percy watched in distaste as the two high-fived, and went to pick up his journal, only to find his best friend Annabeth Chase standing there, holding it out to him.

"Here you go, Seaweed Brain," she said, smiling.

Percy smiled back, taking the journal from her and cradling it against his chest, "Thanks, Wise Girl."

"No problem, Perce."

"Another year of Hell, and then University or College. Did you get your applications replied to yet?" Percy asked, opening his journal to continue his entry.

"Yep, all of them."

"You sent out ten, how in-"

"You must forget why you call me 'Wise Girl', Seaweed Brain," she teased, laughing as he blushed. "What about you?"

"Nothing. I sent out five, and no reply from anywhere. I'm doomed if I can't get into New Rome University, it's where Uncle Neptune and Dad went and they're both top-notch marine biologists."

Annabeth hummed, staring off into the distance. He followed her gaze, and found them both staring at Luke's ass.

"Annabeth-"

"I know, I know... But he has to still love me, I know he does..."

Percy was about to speak up, when people started clearing out the hallway. He quickly pulled Annabeth aside, and watched as the "Heathers" walked by.

They aren't all named Heather, but they definitely fit the trope in their own way; gorgeous, dumb, and cruel.

The first Heather stepped out, brushing her long, claw shaped, hot pink nails through her hair. She wore her usual emerald green outfit as she strutted down the hall, winking at the popular boys and sneering at the geeks and rebels.

'Introducing Drew Tanaka, the "Beauty Queen".  Bulimic, narcissistic, and obsessed with sex. Has a mean streak a mile wide.'

Percy didn't like her at all.

The second Heather stepped out, giggling as she stared at her phone, probably texting her boyfriend. She wore her usual yellow attire, which she somehow managed to pull off despite her black hair and crystal blue eyes.

'Silena Beauregard, the "dumb" one. She was sweet and kinder than the other two, but she got picked on for it often by her two best friends.'

Percy liked Silena, they used to be friends when they were younger, but then high school came and they stopped talking. He's sure she doesn't even know his name anymore.

The final Heather stepped out, donning her blood red clothes and scrunchie. She walked to the front of the group, seeming unimpressed with her friends.

'And last but not least, Nancy Bobofit, the queen fuckin' bee...'

Percy paused in his writings, before smirking.

'She is a mythic bitch.'

People started whispering about them, saying how they'd wish they were nicer, how pretty they were, how sitting at their table even once grants immunity, etc.

One guy made a creepy comment about a basement, nudity, a camera, and rats, but he chose to ignore it for his own sanity.

He watched as they went into one of the few non-gendered washrooms, fitted with three toilets, three stalled urinals, and three sinks each.

He suddenly felt the urge to pee, and after giving Annabeth a look of "wish me luck" he followed them in, heading into the first stall he saw.

Toilet, dammit all.

He could hear Drew puking in the stall next to his, and he cringed inwardly as Nancy said, "Pull it together, Drew. Bulimia is so last year."

"Yeah, Drew, maybe you should see a doctor," Silena added helpfully in a softer tone.

"Maybe you're right, Silena, I should."

The door opened, and the voice of Hecate Hearths, the student counselor, rang out into the room.

"Ah, Nancy, Silena..." She paused as she heard Drew puking again, "...And of course, Drew. Didn't you hear the bell? You're all late for class."

Percy quickly set to work in his journal, a plan forming in his head.

"Drew isn't feeling well, we're helping her," Nancy said sweetly. Her voice made Percy's blood boil, but he knew he couldn't back out now that the note was finished.

"Actually, Miss Hearths, I have the hall pass right here!" Percy said, flushing and stepping out of the stall.

Drew was now standing next to her friends, and the three of them stared at Percy in shock and awe.

Miss Hearth checked the note, and nodded. "Alright, but get back to class soon!"

As soon as she was gone, Percy found himself cornered by the three girls.

"Who are you?" Nancy demanded, glaring at him.

"P-Percy Jackson."

"Why would you do that?" Drew questioned next, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I want immunity," he blurted, "If you let me sit at your table just once, no talking necessary, people will think you at least tolerate me and leave me alone."

Nancy laughed, "Seriously?"

"I also do report cards and late slips!" he added.

"What about prescriptions?" Drew asked curiously.

"Drew!"

"Sorry, Nancy."

Nancy grabbed his chin, squishing his cheeks, and moved his face side to side, "For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure..."

"And a symmetrical face!" Silena said excitedly, "If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have two matching halves. Very important!"

"Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds," Drew said, smirking at him.

"You know, this could be beautiful... Some eyeliner, maybe some light eye-shadow and mascara, and we're on our way. Silena, get this boy some blush, and Drew I need your brush. Let's make him beautiful~"

"Let's make him beautiful!" the other two repeated, doing as they were told.

"Okay?" Nancy asked sweetly as she sat him on the counter of the sink.

"Okay!" Percy said excitedly.

~

Percy was nervous as they all stepped out of the bathroom during second period, his face all made up with a blue-green eye shadow, black eyeliner, red blush, and mascara. His hair was somehow tamed due to Nancy's harsh brushing.

People turned to look at the four of them, and once again, the halls erupted into whispers.

"Who's that guy?"

"Who's the sexy dude?"

"Who is he?"

Nancy smirked and pushed him to the forefront, and Percy gasped as he turned to see Annabeth staring at him, "Percy...?"

"Percy."

"Percy?"

"Percy!"

Everybody started fawning over him, and his face lit up like a lighthouse on the shore at night, "Fuck yes!"

Nancy smirked, turning to the other girls. She nodded her chin at Annabeth, who was staring at Percy with a look of shock.

"Let's see how much of a man he really is," she whispered.

Drew and Silena nodded, giggling.

~

"No, no way!" Percy said, "It'll crush her!"

Nancy's smile faded to a snarl, "Are we gonna have a problem here?" she snapped, glaring him down.

He gulped, backing away.

"You've got a bone to pick?" she advanced, backing him up against the lockers. Drew and Silena moved to block his only two exits.

"You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? I'd normally slap your face off, and everybody here could watch~" she purred, smirking.

Percy suddenly became aware of everybody watching the scene in silence, and he felt his body begin to tremble in fear.

Drew snatched the note from his hand and headed towards Luke.

He barely managed to get it back from her, but he gripped it like a lifeline as Nancy snapped her head in his direction.

"Well, I'm feeling nice, so here's some advice, listen up, bitch."

Silena, in all her pure glory, began to speak, Drew following her lead.

"I like!" They managed to say it in sync, which scared Percy half to death.

"Lookin' hot, buying stuff they cannot~" Nancy sang, her voice much more attractive than her face.

"I like!"

"Drinking hard, maxing dad's credit card~"

"I like!"

"Skippin' gym, scaring her-" she turned and smirked towards Annabeth, causing Percy's blood to run like ice through his veins, "-screwing him~" she then pointed at Octavian, who waved.

"I like!"

"Killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!"

He scrambled back as her leg swung up inches away from his face.

It's official, he's died and gone to Hell.

"If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let your mommy fix you a snack!" Nancy snapped, advancing again, "Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in my Porsche with the quarterback!"

"Honey what you waiting for?" Silena asked, managing to slip the note from his grip.

He reached out for it, only to have Drew block his way, "Step into my candy store!"

"You just gotta prove you ain't a pussy, anymore!" Nancy said, motioning to Silena, who had already delivered the note.

"And step into our candy store~" the three said, smirking.

"Percy, Percy look! Luke just invited me to his homecoming party! This proves he's been thinking about me!" Annabeth said, rushing over, the note in hand.

"Color me stoked," Percy said nervously, feeling extremely guilty at the excited look on her face.

"I'm so happy!" she said, seeming on the verge of tears.

"Yeah..." he said, forcing a smile.

~

"McDonald's has always been my place to go, always. No matter where we move, it's always right there!" Nico di Angelo said with a small smile.

Percy laughed, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he payed for the coffees, "Yeah, but it'll make you fat."

"Not if you work out daily, it doesn't," Nico insisted, "Come on, do I look fat to you?"

Percy, in all his idiocy, made the mistake of eyeing him up and down, hoping Nico didn't notice how his eyes lingered on his lips.

Blushing, he said, "No, you don't."

"Exactly."

"PERCY! WHERE IS MY COFFEE?"

"C-coming!"

"You have some... Interesting choice in friends."

"Yeah, I hate them, but I need them."

"Why?"

Percy said nothing, merely walked out.

~

That question is what was brought to the forefront of his mind as Nancy stood before him, hands on her hips.

"Nobody will talk to you, touch you, or even look at you! You don't get to be a nobody, you get to be dead to everybody!" she screeched, causing his ears to hurt.

Silena giggled, "I know who I'm sitting with at lunch on Monday."

Drew smirked, "Do you, big boy~?"

Percy turned to look at the others at the party, but everybody was turned away.

"I-"

"Come Monday morning... Percy stew will be on the menu~" Nancy purred with a smirk akin to that of a wolves before it tore out the jugular of it's prey.

He fled the party, tears in his eyes.

~

"P-Percy, what are you doing in my room?"

Percy took a deep breath as he stared at the other boy, before smirking, all of his uneasiness fading away as he stepped away from the window.

"I'm sorry, but I really had to wake you."

"W-why?"

Percy's smirk evolved into a huge grin, his cheeks flushing a dark red, "You see... I decided I must ride you 'til I break you~"

"W-what-"

"Nancy says I got to go, you're my last meal on Death Row," he purred, moving to straddle the younger boy, "So shut your stupid mouth, and lose those boxers~"

Nico's face went bright red, and he pulled Percy down for a kiss.

The rest of the night went even better then Percy had hoped it would.

~

"She's dead! Fuck! I just killed my best friend-"

"Percy, calm down, love," Nico cooed, cupping the older boy's face.

"W-we need to call 911-"

"-and get ourselves arrested for murder?" Nico questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Percy shouted, on the verge of a panic attack.

"Suicide note," Nico said, standing up and grabbing a pen and paper. "Write."

~

"Hey, Dad!" Hades di Angelo said, smiling at his son.

Nico rolled his eyes, his grip around Percy's shoulder getting tighter, "Hey, son."

"How was work?" Hades asked, before changing his voice, "Oh! It was crazy! They wouldn't let me blow it up, but I did it anyways!"

"That's great, son."

"Thanks, Dad," Hades finally noticed Percy, who smiled weakly and waved shyly, "Hey, Dad, meet my new girlfriend!" he added in a poor imitation of Nico's voice.

"Dad, this is Percy. Percy, this is.. My dad."

"Hello, Percy."

"Hi, Hades..."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Hades asked.

"Oh, no... My mom is making my favorite for dinner, fried salmon. With lots of ah... Salt."

"Oh, that's funny, isn't it dad? The last time I saw mom, she was waving out of a building you blew up seconds later."

"Yes, son," Hades said darkly, "Yes, it was."

"Uhm... I'm gonna go..."

~

"Drew! Silena! Open the door!"

"On no, oh no!" Drew laughed, locking the doors.

Silena gave him an apologetic glance, "No, no... No."

"You make our balls so blue~" Luke sang drunkenly.

"They're hanging sadly~" Octavian added.

Percy ran off, tears in his eyes and a burning rage in the pit of his stomach..

~

"Sword fight, eh?" Drew purred, the red scrunchie in her hair standing out against the green outfit she wore.

"What?" Percy questioned, staring at her deadpan.

"The sword fight in your mouth, idiot," Drew snarled.

"What? When-"

"Last night, yeah! Turns out the pretty girl was Percy Jackson dressed in drag!" a kid said from a few meters away.

'What?'

"Oh, everybody is talking about last night, Percy~"

"You bitch-"

"Apparently not like you, mutt. Go slobber on some more cock, eh?"

~

"Sword fight, eh?"

"Nico, I-"

"I know, Sea Prince, I know. Come on, we'll make 'em pay~"

~

Nico smirked as he loaded up his gun, "Not real, just tranquilizers. My grandpa Kronos brought them back from World War two."

"Well... Okay. What do we do though?"

"Plant a note saying they killed themselves for being gay for each other."

"Hah! Brilliant!"

"Mmhmm, they made you cry, so now they'll pay. They'll wake up as laughingstocks."

"I love you," Percy said, kissing Nico.

He hummed against Percy's lips, "Our love is God, baby."

~

"We love our dead gay sons, whether they were pansies or not!" Hermes Castellan and Jeremy Augur said at the funeral, just before Luke's poor mother broke down in tears.

"My son!" she wailed, "My beautiful, beautiful son!"

~

"You're a fucking psychopath! Get the hint, Nico!"

"But, Babe, our love is God~"

"Then God is dead!" Percy screamed, glaring daggers at the other.

He stormed off, ignoring Nico's call of, "You'll be back, sure as day turns into night! Nothing can break our bond!"

~

Silena clung to him, gripping his t-shirt so tightly he was scared her nails would cut into his skin through the fabric.

"I stand in a boat... On a raging black ocean, low in the water, and nowhere to go... The loneliest lifeboat, filled with people I know..."

"I know, Silena, but don't worry, we'll make it to shore someday..."

~

"Percy, please, talk to us son!" Poseidon Jackson cried, waving the book Moby Dick around.

"Your problems seem like life and death," Sally Jackson added, staring at her son with tears in her eyes, "But believe me, they aren't!"

"You don't know what my life is like!" Percy screamed back.

"Yo, boy, keep it together~" Nancy purred in his ear.

"You've burned that red scrunchie, come join us in Hell!" Octavian and Luke said in unison.

"Somebody's here for you~" Nancy said, smirking.

Percy's eyes widened, and he rushed upstairs.

~

"Don't make me come in there, Percy."

"Go away! I'll scream, and Mom'll call the cops!"

"Don't you want to make s'mores with me? We can smile and cuddle while their screams burn out! Ha! Get it, burn out?"

Percy knew he had only minutes to figure out how to get away, when he spotted the bed sheets.

'He wants suicide so badly? I'll give him one he didn't plan...'

"Percy, open the door! Open the door right now!" Nico snapped, brandishing his gun.

Silence.

"Don't make me come in there!"

Silence.

"On the count of three!"

Silence.

"One!"

Silence.

"Two- Fuck it!"

He kicked in the door, and froze at what he saw.

"No... Percy, why...?" Nico whispered brokenly, dropping to his knees. "You were all I could trust... Please don't leave me alone..."

The hanging body said nothing, merely swung back and forth.

"I can't do this alone," Nico sobbed, yanking at his hair. He suddenly got a crazy look on his face, onyx eyes wide and crazed, his grin so wide it could split his face in half, "Still, I will if I must!

He climbed back out the window, laughing.

"Percy?" Sally questioned, "I brought you a snack, blue cookies-"

She saw him there, hanging in the closet, and screamed.

His eyes opened.

~

"Drop the bomb."

Nico chuckled, "Oh, this little thing? I'd barely call this a bomb..." Percy gaped as the smile on Nico's face stretched, a crazed look in his eyes. “This is merely to trigger the packs of thermals upstairs in the gym, now those are bombs!”

Percy knew he didn’t stand much of a chance against Nico, but he also knew he had to try.

Nobody was going to hurt his friends anymore.

"I'm a fucking dead boy walking, and you're going down with me!" Percy shouted, tackling Nico to the floor.

Nico laughed, "I knew that noose was too loose!"

The gun went skidding far off, and as Percy was just about to reach it, Nico pinned him to the ground, smiling at him crazily. "I don't think so~!"

Just as his hands clasped around Percy's neck, a gunshot rang off.

Percy gave a sob as Nico spat up some blood, his beautiful onyx eyes wide in shock.

And then the unexpected happened.

Nico kissed him, sweet and gentle, before standing up and grabbing the bomb.

~

"I.. Am damaged. Far too damaged," Nico said softly.

Percy merely stared at him, not knowing where this was going.

"But you... You are not beyond repair," he added, looking up at him with a sad smile. He pressed the button on the bomb, the one to set it off.

"Wait-"

"Stick around a little longer, make things better, it's too late for me."

"Please, no!"

"You beat me fair and square..."

"Nico-"

"Please, stand back now, I'm not quite sure what this thing will do... I don't want my Sea Prince getting hurt," the younger replied, motioning with his hand for Percy to back up.

Percy took ten steps back, eyes wide in horror as the timer clicked down.

10.

"A little further..."

Percy took a dozen more steps back, full-on sobbing by this point.

5.

"Our love is God, baby," Nico said with certainty.

3.

"...Say hi to God."

~

"You look like Hell," Drew said with a sneer.

"I just got back," Percy replied, walking up to her.

"Hey-! What're you-"

In one swift motion, he kissed her cheek, yanking the red scrunchie from her hair.

"No more. War is over. We're all damaged, we're all broken up and hurt, but that's okay! We'll heal, all of us! If nobody loves us now, someday, somebody will."

Drew put a hand to her cheek, blushing as she glared, "You stupid-"

"Shut up, Drew," Silena said, "Percy's right."

Percy smiled at her, and she smiled back at him softly.

He turned to Annabeth, who was sat in her wheelchair, "Annabeth, are you free tonight...? I was thinking, maybe, we could hang out..? Rent a movie, something with a happy ending..?"

"Are there any happy endings...?" Annabeth asked softly.

"Maybe not now, but someday there will be," he said confidently.

She smiled, throwing her arms open.

He eagerly obliged, hugging her tightly.

"For now, let's party!" A kid yelled.

For the first time since he first became a "Heather", Percy felt happy, and free.

{La Fin}

~Ashton Bende

[arteacactus]

47, Roceit.

(In human AU, in which Roman is friends with Logan and Virgil and used to date Logan, and Deceit is close friends with Patton, who introduced him and Roman, though they don’t know each other all that well)

Also this is long as hell im sorry,, and will be read easier on desktop to get all the formatting correct- their are pagebreaks and blockquotes that i dont think are visible on mobile and might completely mess up the story. 

047: “My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them.”

Roman would be lying if he said his heart didn’t ache when he got the invitation to Logan and Virgil’s wedding.

He was happy for them, truly! He was glad they found each other and they’re happy enough to get married; hell, he helped Logan plan his proposal. 

But there was a bit of him that, even after years, yearned for Logan to come back to him. 

This part of him craved to have his nerd back in his arms. He knew it was dumb, Logan was happy with Virgil and he was, quite frankly, very unhappy with Roman, so he shouldn’t be begging for things he won’t ever get, but he just couldn’t let go.

There was a void, and he wasn’t sure how to fill it. 

Now, he was hit with a new dilemma, though.

He was definitely going to the wedding. If not to see Logan in a suit, then to support them as their friend. 

But he didn’t want to show up alone.

It would be weird, wouldn’t it? He had to make it look like he was over Logan. He didn’t want it to look like he’d been trying to get over his past relationship after all this time.

So, he started going through a list of friends he could ask to be a fake, temporary date.

He thought of Logan’s brother, Emile, but that was just creepy, so he crossed him out.

Perhaps Patton’s brother, Remy? Though, Remy was a little too much sass and not enough romance. He couldn’t handle that.

Patton was out of the question. They’d be suspicious that they hadn’t heard about it before then, and Patton wouldn’t like lying to their friends.

Wait..

Lying.

Patton’s new friend Dolion.

Roman himself met the man only a few months ago, and he’s hung out with him more than once. They didn’t know each other all too well, but he knew Dolion enough to know that he had absolutely no problem with lying.

And a plus- Dolion was hot as hell.

Besides, Logan and Virgil haven’t met Dolion yet.

It was perfect!

Roman slammed the invitation on the counter and pulled his phone out, texting Dolion,

Ro: Hey, can you do me a favor?

Lio the Lyin: It’s nine in the morning.

Ro: Yeah, okay, I get it, you sleep late, but this is seriously important!

Lio the Lyin: Get on with it, then.

Ro: My ex just invited me to his wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over him.

Ro: Dolion?

Ro: Hey, you there?

Ro: Doll?

Lio the Lyin: I told you to stop calling me that.

Lio the Lyin: Do I know this ex?

Ro: Indirectly?

Ro: I mean, he’s one of Patton’s friends. 

Ro: Logan?

Lio the Lyin: Oh. 

Lio the Lyin: Him.

A few minutes passed, and Roman’s nails tapped against his marble counter nervously. He almost screamed out of frustration until he finally got an answer, five minutes later.

Lio the Lyin: I’ll be there in an hour, I have a plan.

Roman was, admittedly, a little concerned. Not all of Dolion’s plans held malicious intent, but enough did to cause him to feel a little careful when faced with “I have a plan”. 

It was exactly an hour later when Roman heard a knock at his door, stumbling over his feet as he scrambled from the couch to the door, swinging it open to stand face-to-face with Dolion.

Dolion was unusually well-dressed, with a black button-up shirt and nice jeans on.

“Get dolled up. If we’re fake dating, we’re gonna kick it off by making it look non-suspicious that we suddenly start dating right on the day of the wedding. There’s, what, a week leading up to it? We have this week to gradually make it known we’re together, to get rid of suspicion.”

Roman was a little stunned, but he sure wasn’t complaining, because somehow, the idea of fake dating was a little fun. Or perhaps that was just his gay ass being overwhelmed at the picture of Dolion dressed nicely as opposed to his usual punk-like wear. 

He invited him in, and he ran up the stairs, throwing his wardrobe doors open to be faced with an utter mess of various styles. 

Oh dear.

The week passed surprisingly quickly, and Roman found that Dolion was one hell of an actor. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Dolion really was head-over-heels for him. 

He treated him sweetly, respectfully, and never pushed things too far. He took him out to nice places, they did things that both of them liked, and he was an all-around great person to him.

Perhaps that’s why Roman felt the hole in his heart start to fix, and he felt like he was a whole new person around Dolion. 

He was.. getting over Logan, finally. But falling for an entirely new person. 

“Roman. You’re not going to a wedding like this.”

Roman let out a loud groan, pulling the blankets over his head as his bedroom was raided by three new humans.

“Don’t eeeuuuuughh me, mister!” Patton scolded, ripping the blanket off Roman and exposing him to the freezing room. “I’m only gonna be here long enough to get your suit on and dolled up, because then I’m handing you over to Doe and Rem so I can help Lo and Vee.”

Roman sighed heavily, letting Patton grab his arms and pull him into a sitting position, tossing a suit at his face. 

“Put it on. Technically you shouldn’t wear white but we made an exception since this isn’t that big of a deal, as Virgil requested. Logan is wearing dark blue and Virgil is wearing purple.”

“Red and gold, too?”

“Yes, Ro, red and gold, too. You’re gonna match with Doe, who’s wearing black and gold.”

Dolion in a black and gold suit.

That shouldn’t have made his heart race and butterflies flutter in his stomach, but it did. 

Roman grabbed the suit and sleepily stood, letting his eyesight adjust to the light as Patton ripped the curtains open. “And you’re wearing..?”

“I’m wearing light blue, Em’s wearing pink, and Rem’s wearing this weird sort of wine color. Kind of maroon, but too light.”

Roman nodded.

So they’re all gonna be their own unique colors. 

That was.. honestly pretty cute.

Patton left the room as Roman showered and got dressed, his curly blond hair almost falling over his eyes in a fringe as he blow-dried it, and he decided to leave it like that- it looked nice. 

He studied himself in the mirror, smiling. 

He thought he looked nice!

Walking out of his bathroom, Roman rushed down the stairs, where Patton was getting ready to head out, breakfast made at the table- Dolion and Remy eating.

Roman’s breath was caught as he saw Dolion, who had slicked his dark, dirty blond hair back against his head, somehow making his cheekbones more defined, his black and gold suit bringing out his pale skin.

Barely visible freckles peppered across only one side of Dolion’s face, much to Roman’s amusement and awe. He was.. a cross between hot and adorable.

He loved it. 

“Bye, Roman! I’ll see you in a couple hours!” Patton waved him goodbye, some sort of knowing grin on his face that Roman didn’t quite enjoy, and left Roman alone with the two men.

“Ro,” Dolion greeted, lifting his eyes to meet Roman’s flustered ones, lips curling in a smile.

“Doll,” Roman replied, pleasantly shocked by how steady his voice came out.

“Remy. Now c’mon, greetings over, let’s get to work.”

“Roman,” 

The voice took him by surprise, despite the fact it was his own wedding.

Roman turned to face Logan, who was gazing at him in warm affection. Just a week ago, that look would have made Roman’s heart thud with longing, but now, he felt.. weirdly, nothing. 

Roman’s face broke in a smile. “Logan!” He greeted, throwing his arms around Logan in a hug that took the other by surprise, almost knocking them over, but Logan managed to hold them steady.

“Pleased to see you could come,” Logan grunted, letting Roman go once the other was satisfied with his hug.

“Happy to be here!” Roman replied, and was surprised by how much he genuinely meant it. He expected to be heartbroken, somehow, but..

Bumping his hand against Dolion’s, Roman took it and interlocked their fingers.

“Dolion. Pleased to meet you, Logan. Roman’s told me much of you.” Dolion introduced, holding his free hand out for Logan to take.

Logan didn’t seem bothered by his presence, though a little curious as how close he and Roman were. “Likewise. I’m assuming you’re..?”

“Roman’s date.” Dolion finished his sentence, flashing a pretty smile, “I’m his boyfriend.”

He said it with such a prideful tone that Logan never held when talking about Roman, and it made his face heat up and butterflies flutter in his stomach, his smile stretching wider across his face, and Roman almost worried his face was going to split in half. He was falling hard for Dolion, damn it. He wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.

Logan hummed, looking at Dolion’s proud face and Roman’s red one and flustered expression, allowing a smile of his own to fall on his face.

“I’m glad Roman could find someone to love him like he deserves.”

And something about that made it final.

Roman.. held no feelings for Logan, anymore. No romantic feelings, anyway. And Logan felt the same.

He was.. free from his heart’s desires, as they now lied with someone else.

Someone he could have.

And somehow, that made him happier than he’d been in a while.

Now.. onto ending the fake-dating and making it real-dating.

He had a plan.

101 Fluffy Prompts (please don’t send anymore, unless they include Deceit)

[trueishcolours]

My siblings and I accidentally write a Ron/Victor Krum 4th year fix it fic in the group chat

Isabel: guyS

Rewatching goblet of fire

And I have to say

How amazing would it have if

It was a LOT less gendered

And also

If Ron and Krum had got together instead of Krum and Hermione

Thomas: Oh yeah there's so much Gender  

Isabel Ron already basically has a crush on Krum

Would have been great  

Thomas: idk, he's more jealous of him in my opinion  

Isabel: Nah

He has the action figure

He says he's an artist

It's definitely there

Thomas: Tru 

Clare: I mean on a superficial level I liked the Hermione/Krum part because it made me relate that a girl who is usually uninterested in 'feminine' things might still have some anxieties and take some interest now and again, and 'this super hot guy will like You, the Nerd' is standard wish fulfilment, but honestly I could take it or leave it. A grumpy feminist could equally well read it as 'EVEN smort girls like Hermione want to be feminine REALLY uwu'

And that would be a boring analysis but the whole feminine versus not argument is boring and not what we're here for

Anyway

The Krum drama kicks off the Romione subplot and honestly I hate Romione as a ship, to me it feels forced from beginning to end

But Ron/Krum would tie in really nicely to the whole character arc for Ron that JKR started in the first book and then forgot about where he evolves into an amazing intelligent badass without noticing it

Picture: He is dooting along, vaguely bummed because he's nothing special compared to his older bros, then in book four he realises wait he DOES stand out from others because he's gay/bi/whatever but he's not sure he WANTS that because standing out for being a minority is a fucking hassle but by the seventh book he is war hero, chess master and gay icon and vaguely confused about it

Hell, you could even have Hermione go to the ball with Krum, get her girly character development in and have Ron freak out and both of them /assume/ it's about her when it's not

It would just

Be better Thomas: Queer theory saves the day once again

Clare: :D  

Isabel: JUST BASICALLY RON, ALL THE TIME, WITH A BETTER CHARACTER ARC

Thomas: I love this  

Isabel: Honestly decades later I am still just so salty about Ron's lack of development, hell, anti development. I just want everything for him

Clare: Like, not to make it automatically angsty just because it's gay but Ron being Not Straight ties in so well with his typical theme of qualities that he think make him less than Textbook Perfect actually being his great strengths (I read a great analysis that Ron actually achieves all his brothers' goals without trying or noticing)

Ron just utterly stalls as a character in the books

And Harry is a shitty friend to him by the end

She kind of pulled it back with his deathly hallows arc but it was bungled and could have come across as just bashing him

Isabel: HE IS. Ron is so taken for granted.

Clare: God, Ron is SO much less of a dick if his yelling at Hermione in book four is coming out of Sudden Repressed Realisation, not just 'woman I like is doing something I don't like'

Isabel: I watched film 4 last night and just everyone??? Is so horrible to each other??? All the time??? I swear in the books it's so much better handled

Other reasons why bi/gay Ron headcanon is important: - most masculine of the trio/ has a million big brothers so dealing with toxic masculinity/ bucking queer stereotypes in there too - an extra 'fuck you' to the whole pure blood thing which I reckon is really homophobic as it means your bloodline won't get continued or some shit - Krum coaching Ron on Keeping in bad English. Tell me it's not cute. - Ron's a linguist (he learnt parselmouth on like 2 listens)!! Tell me he wouldn't learn Bulgarian?! - just, chaotic bilingual Quidditch talk, all the time, forever?!

Clare: UM your pidgin Quiddich is now my new fave headcanon forever????? You're SO RIGHT Ron is smart, he's just not academic. He would DEFINITELY pick up a language fast if he was using it to talk to his boyfriend/about quiddich

Isabel: EXACTLY

Clare: Plus all the stuff you said about toxic masculinity and purebloodism.

MAKE THE SUBTEXT TEXTUAL, YOU COWARDS

Isabel: #giveRonaBoyfriend2k18

Also not around for the lowkey weirdness of Ron and Harry dating CANONICALLY IDENTICAL AND BORING non white girls to the Yule Ball

I know that you can overdo all this stuff but seriously the fuck

Clare: It is a bit odd and icky   

Isabel: Ok so this is what happens

Krum asks Hermione to the Yule Ball and it's like she gets her cute moment with him

But then instead of spending the whole evening being a whiny bish Ron shows un-JKR-characterisation-characteristic maturity and puts a brave face on it and talks to them both

He's upset but doesn't full on ruin their evenings

And then Hermione after the ball, (gradually realising with slight horror that she and Krum actually have literally nothing in common) kind of keeps... asking... Ron to hang out with them

And at first Ron's like lol no way am I third wheeling

But then the temptation to hang out with his literal idol becomes too strong

And he and Krum start hanging out independently of Hermione

(who's probably in the lib helping Harry study for the second task at this point anyway)

The weather is still too cold for Quidditch

Ron thinks

But somehow Ron ends up playing anyway

IN THE SNOW

WITH VICTOR

HE'S GETTING COACHED BY AN ACTUAL WORLD CUP FINAL SNITCH CATCHING PLAYER AND HE IS NOT CHILL

Clare: Hoooooly fuck this is perfect

(except he actually is because it's like -10 and snowing what the fuck Krum) Ron putting his big boy panties on and dealing during the ball, leading to him actually having an in with Krum via Hermione

I love the dynamic of Hermione just...awkwardly asking her friends to hang with them...just to break the silence...

Isabel: YEAH EXACTLY

And then them all actually having a nice evening

Clare: I mean the point of Krum with her was to get that 'YASSSS I'm dating a hot guy!' moment WHILE ALSO showing how easily it fizzles, so nothing needs to change there

Hermione could even do her 'ugh, quiddich and BOYS' routine

Isabel: Awkward because of course it is awkward what is a teenage party without angst but also, fun

yeah exactly! the slow dawning that fuuuuck, I've just brought another stupid quidditch boi into my life oh god why

Clare: Ron still knows more about the history of the game and all the technical terms than Harry so has more to talk to Krum about

Isabel: And then you know Ron and Krum stumble back into the castle with Ron wearing Krum's hat à la Chad and Ryan, and Skeeter doesn't bat an eyelid because it doesn't fit her trashy narrative

Clare: RIGHT I've got to sleep I'm getting a cold but I love this

Isabel: ok go sleep

OK ONE MORE POINT

we almost certainly get the insanely awkward 'think you're in luurve Ron' or 'lol if you love Krum so much you should date him not Hermione'! moment from either Fred or George or maybe Ginny

And there's just a kind of... missing step moment

Clare: I think all of them would do that

I mean they're pretty mean to Ron anyway, especially about love

Isabel: Exactly they're all horrible but MAYBE this would teach them!!

Clare: Exactly! It would rip the rug out from under them and they'd be like wait shit

Isabel: We are actually mean to Ron... a lot

Clare: Especially because in this timeline Ron still gets the hassle from his sibs but unlike in the main timeline where he is just butt monkey forever he has the trump card that he's got a boyfriend who's a world famous quiddich player

Like, if you're Fred, George, Ginny or even Molly you can't really come back from that reveal. Ron wins.

Isabel: Krum actually being a laser focussed guy who gives people he cares about 300% of his attention

And middle child syndrome attention starved Ron just soaks it up like a blooming Icelandic kid under a sunlamp

Ron win evertiem

Clare: Yeahhhhhh. Being a prodigy who's trained from such a young age he's got to nail that work life balance and it's like 90% work 10% life but that life is INTENSE, he's seen too many people lose their relationships because they won't switch off their metaphorical phones during dates, he gets one (1) month a year and about three (3) important people and when it is Person Time it is PERSON TIME

Right bed for eal I'm dying

Isabel: BED FOR EEL

UGH ALL I WANT IN MY LIFE IS THE 50K+ SLOW BURN QUEER 4TH YEAR REWRITE

BUT I LEGIT DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE IT AND I DON'T TRUST MYSELF TO GET RON POV RIGHT ANYWAY

Clare: Bebs I wish you could write it

The raw chemistry my goodness

I ship it now

Is there going to be 'you are treating me like an idol not a real person please stop' angst at any point?

Isabel: OF COURSE THERE IS

Clare: Also Krum is like 'I knew I could trust you because you are bffs with Harry Potter and you treat him like he's totally normal you must be so mature and cool he is so so lucky to have a friend like you

Or well, Krum insecurity that people only like him because of his celeb status anyway

Which is probably why he went for Hermione in the first place because she didn't give a shit

'WOULD WE EVEN BE TOGETHER IN THE FIRST PLACE IF IT WASN'T FOR QUODDICH?'

'... I love you.'

'Bro I wouldn't care if you were the worst player in the world as long as we both are fans of the sport together.'

'Bro.'

Isabel: BRUH

Also can I just ask...?

What happens in the second task??!!?

It's already messed up enough under that lake, love triangles all over the place

This would just be the final straw that resulted in everyone just shrugging and teaming up

Clare: Holy shit

Krum just doots along, takes Ron and goes

Harry's like...wait what...OK...um I guess Hermione and Ron are equally important to me so I'll just take her kk

Isabel: Krum and Ron appearing on the surface of the lake like 'fuck'

The most dramatic declaration of intent ever

Turning yourself into a shark and rescuing them from the bottom of a lake

Clare: Everybody in the stands is SHOOK

Dumbledore like dang I did not predict this

With their hair soaking wet they are both at maximum hot

Isabel: Rita Skeeter's quill combusts

Clare: Krum doesn't point her out as a beetle in Hermione’s hair he's too busy with Ron

Isabel: Yeah she's like where is my gossip at??? Nothing is happening over in Hermione's hair

But yeah I feel like Dumbledore would be like, oh darn, looks like I'm gonna have to show queer solidarity with Ronald Weasely or something

KRUM AT THE BURROW VERY SERIOUSLY COMPLIMENTING MOLLY ON HER FOOD AND ASKING FOR BRITISH RECIPES AND WINNING HER OVER IN A TRICE

Clare: Would Krum charm Molly straight away though? He's very surly and shy and, in the books, not very handsome. Wouldn't Molly start out yikes who is this quiddich yob my son has taken up with?

Ginny on the other hand. Comes out as bi a couple of years later, tells Ron she only started to realise thanks to his example, apologises for being a dick about his love life

Isabel: Yeah I guess actually

I think Molly can get fierce

Clare: She's probably got a bit of pure blood/homophobic anxiety that she cloaks as objections about THIS PARTICULAR boy

Isabel: Either she loves you and adopts you right away or she is like /pulling shotgun down from the shelf/

EXACTLY

She's like

Blaming herself, oh I should have paid more attention and NOW look what's happened

Poor Ronald, always neglected

And Ron's like... mum... this is great

I am happy

Is not problem

Clare: Ron is like I AM NOT DOING THIS FOR ATTENTION JESUS CHRIST

I mean he's probably enjoying having the attention of a quiddich super star and I bet he'd even enjoy the celebrity status of The Boyfriend a bit (best friends get sidelined but romantic partners are news) but he's not doing it FOR attention

Isabel: Yeah, and I think the suggestion that he is would just make him so mad

First confused and then mad

Oh the ANGST

Clare: Especially since that's Krums biggest anxiety

Isabel: Mr Weasely would be chill. I feel like in this whole equation he is the chillest

Clare: What would Percy say? Would social climbing or doing the done thing win out?

Also the attention thing is a way for parents to make their child's relationship all about them. Oh you want me to LOVE you more! No mum I'm growing away from you this is normal

I think Ron would get jealous around Bill and Charlie because they'd swing in all oh our brother is rebellious and has a cool boyfriend? Well we are cool rebels also welcome to the family Victor

Isabel: Yeah... I think Percy is probably pretending to be chill with it and being a bit smarmy to Krum then says something awkward and homophobic and it's worse than if he'd just said it straight up

Clare: I think a lot of Liberal but still pure blood families would take the line of, 'it's fine that you're gay...because you're the sixth son so your blood line isn't in danger and making a socially advantageous match is probably more important for you anyway! And Ron is like Y I K E S

Isabel: Yeah exactly, well I suppose you have enough sons Molly amirite

What do we think about the Krum family?

Are they just happy that their son is forming human relationships

Clare: Hmm. How do they feel about celebrity? Do they think Ron is Not Good Enough or are they actually quite a normal family and are glad Krum has an ordinary guy to keep him grounded?

Isabel: I kind of don't want Ron to have to deal with random Bulgarian disapproval

I think maybe a quite normal family who had a kid who was a genius and has been at boarding school/ travelling for years and years

Maybe Krum already came out to them so that drama is in the past

Clare: Yeah and when he brings Ron home for dinner they're just delighted that Krum is home at all and that he's happy

Yeah maybe he did

He's probably had a lot of time to introspect because of his image and maybe he's an only child?

Isabel: And Ron speaks accented but ok Bulgarian by this point and they're like !!!

Clare: I think one aspect of the large family thing that WOULD affect Ron is its just that much harder to have a private word with your parents so confiding about yourself, especially when you're not 100% sure, just isn't part of the family culture

And there's no time for introspection when you're jockeying for position with six siblings

So Krum is out to his parents while Ron isn't even out to himself

Plus Krums just that bit older

Isabel: No, when you ask for a word it's all 'yes Ron' a bit exasperated

Clare: Krum’s family are just delighted that Ron speaks Bulgarian and is a normal guy who likes their son for himself

Isabel: Maybe they have some kind of cool engineery job and Ron goes out the back and is like well my dad likes cars I will try and help

Uses his mathsy chessy knowledge

Clare: Re. Homophobia I think it is important that it's not all YOU'RE GOING TO HELL like the Muggle brand but instead is very focused on producing pure blood children. Also with the smallness of the pure blood community I bet there's a lot of, not official arranged marriage, but kind of assumed marriage, like in Pride and Prejudice or what may have happened with Prince William and Kate, like, there's three girls your age who your family's on speaking terms with who aren't your first cousins and it'll massively throw off everybody's plans if you don't marry one of them

Yes Ron helping with engineering

Isabel: Headcanon of the Krums as magical engineers with a side passion for quidditch

Clare: I bet he picks up arithmancy that way. Can't learn it in the classroom, can learn it in the garage. And he comes home from the holiday able to actually help his dad with the car and thenceforth Mr Weasley is on board

Isabel: Yeah exactly... they're a bit 'sigh ok this means you're not gonna marry bertha from the bakery but hell at least it's not a veela'

Clare: Also wizarding society is inherently conservative, they haven't even updated their writing system, so anybody doing anything different is looked askance at unless they can play themselves as a genius eccentric like Dumbledore

Isabel: So yeah then Ron turns out to be WHOLESOME af and Krum’s family are like... ok fine. this is fine. In fact yay!

Ok I have to go do some work but this has been almost as good as having the fic itself

Clare: Maybe I'll put a summary on my tumblr and see if anybody wants to adopt it

[sofreakinmanyfandoms]

Rebound - Chapter 6

END OF HIATUS!

Okay, seriously, I feel so much better about this story after a month away from it. I’ve got my excitement back. This’ll hopefully be good.

Word count: 1482

Warnings: There’s a very general talk about trauma. Reader slips further toward alcoholism.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Barton!Reader (Modern!AU)

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

“I thought we were going to watch movies all day?” you teased as the popcorn kernel you threw bounced off your brother’s forehead.

“It’s Dog Cops,” he stated, his expression clearly indicating that fact should be a reason on its own. “The latest episode. We watch it every week.”

“Yeah,” you conceded with a grin, “but we were in the middle of our marathon.”

“Dog Cops first. End of marathon second.” Clint nodded and flopped back down on the couch, whining in protest when you moved the popcorn out of his reach.

“You know,” you said, caving and passing him the nearly empty bowl, “it’s late enough we should probably have dinner.”

Clint grinned at you. “All right then. Dog Cops first, dinner second, and end of marathon third.”

You laughed and hit him with a throw pillow as the episode started. It had been too long since the two of you had last spent much time together. You’d missed this.

----------

Steve paused as he exited the kitchen with the next round of drinks and smiled at the sight in front of him. Bucky and Tony were both intensely focused on their game of chess. From what Steve could tell, it looked like they were pretty well matched; Tony might be a genius, but Bucky had a good head for strategy and tactics.

“I’ve got you on the run now, Buckaroo,” Tony crowed as he made his move. “Let’s see you get out of that. Check!”

Bucky smiled and made his move, taking himself out of check. “Checkmate.”

The look on Tony’s face had both former soldiers laughing as Steve passed the others their beers and cracked open his coke.

“I should have seen that,” Tony grumbled, although the smile peeking through ruined his attempted pout.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed with a smirk, “you should have. But being human is okay. We don’t always see stuff coming.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” The genius tipped back his beer and took a large gulp before turning to Steve and nodding at his definitely non-alcoholic drink. “So how long has it been now? Coming up on a year, right?”

The blond nodded. “I get my one year coin next week.”

Bucky clapped his friend’s shoulder. “That’s my man. Sam doesn’t give me details of course, but he did say he’s really proud of how far you’ve come.”

“Thanks.” Steve took a sip from his soda can. “So, speaking of coming far…”

“Oh, no,” Tony cut in, “not this again. I have neither the time nor the inclination to go to therapy.” He took another swallow. “Besides, what I went through was nothing compared to the years you guys spent over there.”

“Neither of us were ever tortured as prisoners of war,” Bucky pointed out. “Besides, you know full well that trauma doesn’t work like that. Trauma is trauma, and different people go through different amounts of it but still come out just as messed up. Most people would assume I went through more trauma than Stevie did because I lost an arm, but we all know how well he handled everything before the intervention.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Look, Tony, we care about you. We care how you’re doing, and from where we’re sitting, it doesn’t look like you’re doing that great.” Bucky held up a hand before the man could interrupt. “Functioning and doing well are two different things, and you know that.”

“Besides,” Steve added wryly, “as long as Pepper has to ask us for help to get you to eat the argument can be made that you aren’t really functioning, either.”

“Tony,” Bucky said softly, reaching out rest his hand on his friend’s leg, “I know you don’t open up to people easily. All we’re asking you to do is think about it – really think about it, not just say you will to get us off your back. Sam can recommend someone good, and we can take steps to make sure the media doesn’t get wind of it. Hell, I could go with you every time and if anyone asks we can say you’re taking me to my therapy. Just don’t dismiss it because it’s outside your comfort zone.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it.” Tony gave them both a fond look. “Only because I know you mean well. Just be prepared for the list of reasons I’ll come up with for why I say no.”

“Already have,” Bucky grinned. “I’ve already got my counter arguments prepped, too.”

The three of them laughed, and the conversation moved on to other topics. Steve was mostly quiet all evening, watching his friends interact and occasionally wondering how your evening was going.

----------

“That was my wonton!” you screeched, beating your brother with a throw pillow. “Stop stealing my food!”

Clint was doubled over laughing, holding his hands up to protect his face from the onslaught. “You left it unguarded. You should know better than to do that by now.”

“It was on a plate in my lap! That is not unguarded!”

“You snooze, you lose!”

“I was eating off that plate, you thief!”

He finally wrestled the pillow away from you, nearly kicking over the Pho on the floor by his feet. “Fine. You can have one of my Crab Rangoon. Happy?”

“No.” You reached out with your chopsticks and snatched one out of its takeout container. “But I am satisfied for now. Don’t do it again.”

“I will absolutely do it again next time you order them. You know I have a weakness for shrimp wontons.”

“Of course you will. Now hush. The next movie’s about to start.”

----------

Bucky pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around a sleeping Tony.

“What do you think, Stevie?” he whispered. “Will he’ll ever accept it wasn’t his fault?”

Steve looked down on their sleeping friend with a sigh. “Honestly? I don’t know, but I’d like to think we’re getting through.” He clapped a hand to Bucky’s shoulder. “You especially. I’m really proud of you, Buck. Not many people would come through what you did so well-adjusted.”

“Aw, hell Stevie, you remember what it was like when we first got back. We had enough PTSD between the two of us for a whole unit. I just had more people pushing me to get help sooner because I had an obvious wound along with the mental ones. You guys are the ones who have really had to fight to get better.”

“I’m still proud of you.”

“Thanks. I’m proud of you too, punk. Now let’s get Tony to where we can be proud of him, too.”

----------

You glanced back towards your brother’s bedroom door as you slipped out of your apartment. He’d crashed just early enough that if you could get to the liquor store quickly you could get the good stuff instead of having to settle for beer again. Not that you needed alcohol; you just wanted something to relax you, help you sleep. That’s all it was.

The obnoxious sound of the ringtone your brother had set for you when he’d gotten you your phone last Christmas went off as you made your way out of your building. A glance at the screen showed it was Steve calling, and with a smile you swiped to answer.

“Hey, handsome, wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight.”

“Hey yourself, beautiful.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I hope I’m not calling too late?”

“Nah, I’d have ignored or slept through it if you were. What’s up?”

“Just finished an afternoon and evening with a couple of friends. How about you?”

“Spent the day with Clint, eating takeout and marathoning the Dark Knight trilogy with a brief break for Dog Cops. It was nice; we haven’t done that in a while. I am looking forward to our date tomorrow, though.”

“So am I.” Steve’s tone was warm. “Speaking of, I was wondering if there was anything specific you’d like to do? The weather is supposed to be rather wet, so my outdoor activity probably won’t be practical.”

You laughed. “Aw, come on Rogers, letting a little weather get to you? Hmm, Clint mentioned you like art. How about we go to your favorite museum?”

“That’s a dangerous offer, doll. I’m not sure if you’re ready to see me at that level of nerding out.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, but remember you asked for it.”

You said your goodnights and hung up just as you arrived at the store with five minutes to spare. Good thing you knew the exact location of what you wanted. In just a couple of minutes, you had your purchase and were on your way back home.

Maybe between the anticipation of tomorrow and a little help from a bottle you could sleep without seeing your bastard ex nailing another woman into your mattress...

[akatokuro]

The Inevitable StS Rewatch, Episodes 23-25

And we’re back to canon, baby! ...sort of...

- ORANGE JUICE PARTY!

- When I first watched Saint Seiya, because we watched with badsubs, I was confused as to what happened that Ikki is suddenly on our side and playing nice? Well, with goodsubs, Ikki's turnaround is clearer, but the niceness is not. His characterization is SO WEIRD during this stretch of episodes...

- Well, hey, what do you know, Netflix agrees, Ikki! Fucking ugh.

- This pseudo-recap and our heroes pooling their knowledge and speculating on what could be happening is hilarious, because it's all completely weird and wrong. Like, I actually love the idea of around this point the Bronzies+Saori actually sitting down and talking about what they know based on incomplete information, but all this "SAGITTARIUS IS THE STRONGEST CLOTH IN THE WORLD", "THEY MUST BE SCARED ONE OF YOU BRONZIES CAN WEAR THE GOLD CLOTH!" is... uh, guys...?

- And this framing about ~Arles~ being so desperate to get Sagittarius because ooooh it's a Gold Cloth and they're so special and SAGA HAS A GOLD CLOTH HIMSELF, YOU NERDS.

- IS. IS THAT A FUCKING FACT. BOY HOWDY. WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN.

- Saori tries hard! Obligatory I love Saori comment! I still love the weird/disbelieving expressions from the Bronzies when Saori is really trying hard to be kinder. I love how she's so clearly the leader of the group, too, despite being a non-fighter. April O'Neil this is not.

- AH YES, THE LEGENDARY LIZARD MISTY! THE MOST POPULAR SAINT IN ALL OF SANCTUARY!

- I do like how, though, in Sanctuary men presenting in feminine ways is completely unremarkable and has no impact on the sense of respect you get for people. I'm sure Aphrodite is a very well respected figure in Sanctuary. Misty's popularity amongst the other Silvers is fucking hilarious, but also actually sort of nice in that way, too. I pretty much universally prefer the anime's color schemes for the characters, but let Camus have his painted nails, goddammit!

- Marin is really cool as hell. Would have loved more focus on her. The scene where she has to walk away from Seiya's grave knowing that Misty knows was really effective...

- hyouga do you seriously spend your spare time taunting polar bears at the zoo................ shun, i don't really know about your boyfriend............

- The concept of Sanctuary as a society and an institution is really fascinating. I wouldn't call Episode G fucking brilliant or groundbreaking, per se, but it was fun in part because we got a closer look at the actual mechanics and how things work. The inter-Saint tensions, Saint factions, and politics could be really fun - especially in the context of Saga fucking things up because he has no idea what the hell he's doing, Pope-wise. So you have a crop of Silvers who are mostly nasty pieces of work and a crop of Golds who are either evil or have crippling emotional problems, on the cusp of the Holy War. Whoops!

- By writing that out I have already put more thought into all of this than Masami Kurumada has ever done in his life, btw

- SAINT SEIYA IS THE BEST I DON'T GIVE A FUCK

- "Oh jesus, of all the people who could have shown up to help, it really had to be the Failswan...? Oh god okay make it work make it work..."

- The imagery of Saori playing piano in her ruined mansion is really effective, though. Saori’s facial expressions and reactions to everything are so interesting. I’ve said it before, but I really do appreciate the organic sense of her struggling to keep this ship running and hold it together. 

- RIP Misty you will be remembered by every Silver Saint to come after you

- Every fucking time they bring up this ridiculous "IS MARIN SEIYA'S SISTER?" question yumetabibito and I were both screaming NO! NO SHE FUCKING ISN'T JUST STOP because oh my god how ridiculous how would that even work Seiya if you thought for two fucking seconds about the timeline you would know... you wouldn't... fffffffffffff

- Really thrilled that Marin got to take out Asterion, and her attitude when he was questioning her about what she was doing. Saint Seiya ladies have this sort of ruthless and badass streak about them that makes them really, really engaging in this setting. Marin acknowledging "yeah, by starting this civil war, we're probably all going to fucking die, but shit's gotta be done" is hardcore as hell. I don't doubt that Marin loves Seiya and genuinely wanted to protect him in this situation, but her bigger focus has always been that larger scope of Sanctuary as a whole and how it's rotting from the inside.

- This set of episodes officially converted Hyouga from “smugswan” to “failswan” for me, by the way. Just the sheer hilarity of setting things up so that Saori asks him to help, we get a full episode of him running around aimlessly in the city for the whole fucking day, and then finally shows up on the scene too late to actually contribute anything or help in any way. Cygnus Hyouga, ladies and gentlemen!

- Ah yes, Aiolos finally shows his face in flashback. Aiolos is inevitably one of those characters my brain can't help but go "you know, he would be a lot more interesting if you read him as kind of an asshole". IT'S JUST HOW MY BRAIN WORKS, OKAY?

- The line between "Saori" and "Athena" is another one of those things StS has that's potentially incredibly fascinating, but doesn't actually delve super into. I do like the vibe of the Saori reveal here, though, even though I also like in a different way the manga version of the Bronzies instantly telling her to fuck off. As dumb as the filler arcs were, I do think they were effective in establishing a warmer bond between Saori and her Saints.

- The vibe I get is that Saori is generally "Saori", but when "Athena" stuff comes up it's like she just intuitively clicks with it or knows it, like when she confronts Artemis later as her "sister". If I was revising Saint Seiya (dohohoho, look how humble I am), I would put more emphasis on Saori noticing signs and being troubled by them as buildup - but the actual reveal is probably fine.

- SAORI'S FACE HERE SAYS PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING I WOULD EVER WANT TO ABOUT THE STEEL SAINTS. LET US NEVER SPEAK OF THEM AGAIN.

[chasholidays]

bellarke + she loves me (the musical) please! you're awesome for doing this

The problem with knowing that Bellamy is her internet penpal is that now, Clarke has to live with it.

On one level, it wasn’t actually surprising; if she’d thought about it, she would have known Bellamy and August had a lot in common, the same general age, one younger sister, parents out of the picture, intelligent with dry, somewhat dark senses of humor. But there are thousands of people like that in the world. She can’t be blamed for not thinking there might actually only be one of them.

Monty is the one who found out, in that Monty was the person she brought for backup because, in general, it’s dangerous to meet strangers from the internet, especially when you have exchanged almost no demographic information. August could have been almost anyone, and while Clarke definitely wanted to meet him, she also didn’t want to get stabbed.

So Monty went in first, told Clarke it was her hot coworker she definitely didn’t have a thing for, and left.

And then Clarke went in, trying to figure out what to say, and ended up in an argument with him, because that’s how they roll, and never at any point did she say, “I’m Aeris,” and he never asked, because of course it wouldn’t be her.

He emailed this morning and she still hasn’t looked at it. What’s she supposed to say, after all? He’s going to ask why she wasn’t there, except that she was, and they talked, and he doesn’t know any of that.

She puts her head down on the counter, groaning, but she only manages it for about ten seconds before there’s a sound next to her, and she looks up to see a cup from her favorite coffee shop, and Bellamy behind it.

“Hey, sorry I was a dick last night,” he says, with a small smile. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Her stomach drops, guilt flooding her system. In some sense, it’s true, but the whole thing is kind of her fault. She’s the one who stood him up, and just because he doesn’t know it was her doesn’t mean she didn’t deserve the brunt of his irritation.

“You’re fine,” she says. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Still.”

“Thanks for the coffee.” She takes a sip, can’t help asking, “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?”

“You look kind of tired.”

It’s not actually a lie, and he must know it, because his face screws up with displeasure. “Thanks.”

“Sorry for expressing concern.”

“It was a shitty night.” He leans on the counter next to her, and Clarke takes a sip of the coffee, not letting herself look at him. He’s always been attractive, obviously, and while she hasn’t always liked him, precisely, she has always been drawn to him, on some level. He’s interesting. “Did you ever hear about my girlfriend who lives in Canada?” he asks, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Your girlfriend who lives in Canada?”

“That’s what Miller calls her.” He sighs. “It’s just–she’s this girl I know online. She moved to town a few months ago, and we finally decided to meet up last night. She didn’t show, so–I was in a shitty mood, and I took it out on you.”

“She didn’t show?” Clarke finds herself asking.

“No. I guess I don’t blame her.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“I’m a strange guy she met on the internet. If she was my sister, I would have told her to never meet up with me. Especially since she doesn’t really know anything about me. I could have told her my name, linked her to my Facebook. But I didn’t.”

“Just because you’re not blaming her it doesn’t mean you have to blame yourself,” Clarke tells him. “If she didn’t ask–”

“Yeah.” He straightens up, running his hand through his hair. “Anyway, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you. Just–sorry I was a dick last night.”

“You’re a dick all the time,” she says, nudging his shoulder, hoping to regain some equilibrium, get back to something like their usual dynamic. “Seriously, Bellamy. I appreciate it, but you’re the one who had a bad night, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m fine.”

“Taking care of other people is how I make myself feel better.”

“Yeah? So what do you do if there’s no one around to take care of?” He frowns, and she takes another sip of coffee. “Would you have bought yourself coffee, or just felt shitty?”

“Hot chocolate and still felt shitty,” he says, with a wry smile. “I have a sweet tooth.”

“Really?”

“When I’m in a bad mood, yeah.”

She lets herself reach over and squeeze his shoulder, just a quick touch. “I’m really sorry about your girlfriend who lives in Canada. She was probably just nervous. Or didn’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s not like I don’t–I was nervous all fucking day yesterday.”

“Now that you mention it, I noticed,” she teases.

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.” He clears his throat. “We should probably get moving, get the store open, right?”

“Yeah, sounds right. I’m sure she’ll get in touch soon,” she adds, and at least she really is sure. “Maybe she saw how hot you are and got intimidated.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that must be it.”

*

On her lunch break, she finally reads her email. The message from August is about what she expected, a charitable interpretation of her blowing him off, a couple suggestions of why she might not have showed up.

I got cold feet, I’m sorry, she writes, and then erases it and replaces it with, Had to work late, didn’t have your cellphone. She stares at it for another minute and then finally settles on, I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry.

Then she buys Bellamy a hot chocolate and a brownie and goes back to work.

*

The next few days are more than a little surreal. Bellamy has, not unreasonably, decided she’s a sympathetic audience for his concerns about his internet friend, which puts her in the unfortunate position of trying to talk him through how best to deal with his crush on her.

It really shouldn’t be hard, either. After all, not only is she in a uniquely excellent position to tell Bellamy exactly how Aeris feels about him, the fact is that she returns his feelings. Before she’d known August was Bellamy, she’d already liked both of them in their own ways, and their being the same person is the best news she’s had in years.

Except, of course, that she knows about it and he doesn’t.

“You could just tell him,” says Monty. “And, honestly, you really should. Like, I get not doing it at first, but the longer you go, the more awkward it’s going to be. Just–tell him you panicked, you didn’t know what to say, but you like him and you want to make out.”

“What if he doesn’t want to make out with me?” She’d like to say the question hasn’t been bothering her, but, honestly, that’s total bullshit. She’s been thinking about it basically non-stop.

“He definitely does. Like, I would be money on that. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be just as good news for him as it was for you, okay? You’re a great outcome here.”

“Except I’ve been lying to him.”

“Panicking,” Monty corrects. “Definitely lean hard into that. You’re panicking.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It should. Look, you’re not some supervillain sitting on your ice throne plotting ways to make his life miserable. You’re just–as confused as he is. So figure out how to tell him and tell him. Because it sounds like this could be really good.”

Clarke puts her head on his shoulder. “You think I’d have an ice throne?”

Monty laughs. “Yeah. It would be fucking badass.”

*

If you’re willing, I want to try the whole meeting up thing again, she emails August two days later. I promise I’ll show this time.

As she hoped he would, Bellamy tells her about it at work the next day.

“You’re going to give her another chance?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

“What if she bails on you again?”

“Then I’ll give up on her, I guess. I can take a hint.”

Clarke leans on the counter, watching him restock. “How did you two meet?”

“Book forum,” he says. “I know I’m a nerd, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t know why I didn’t just give her my name. I’ve always gone by August online, ever since I was a kid. I like Roman emperors, I thought it sounded cool. And every time I think about telling her something about myself, I second-guess it.”

“So you’re just going to find out everything at once?”

“I always just jump right into the deep end of the pool too.”

She worries her lip. “Can I walk you over?”

“To meet her?”

“Yeah. So you’ve got someone around if she doesn’t show up again.”

His smile goes warm, and Clarke goes all fuzzy inside. He’s so close to being hers, somehow. She just has to nail the landing. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Then, yeah. You’re welcome.”

She gets changed after they close, as she usually does, and Bellamy does something of a double-take when he sees her.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in that top before,” he says, when she cocks her head.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Very blue.”

“As opposed to all my other slightly blue tops.”

“I’m nervous, shut up.” He holds the door open for her. “Terra is wearing blue.”

“It’s a good color. So, where are you guys meeting?”

“Marco’s, just a few blocks away. You don’t have to come far.”

“How else are you going to know it’s her? Or do you just have to talk to every girl there in a blue top?”

“She’s going to have a copy of the first book we talked about.”

“Which is?”

“Arcadia.”

“The Stoppard play?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?”

“How much do you think she needs?”

“Just trying to figure it out.”

“She said she’d have the book and a flower on the table. Aeris is a flower girl from a video game, so it’s thematic, I guess.”

“But you don’t have any Roman emperor stuff?”

“I’m supposed to find her.”

They’re at Marco’s, so Clarke makes herself exhale. “Find her with this book,” she says, pulling her copy out of her bag, “and this flower, right?”

He stares at her, jaw agape. “Clarke,” he starts, but she doesn’t let him go on.

“I saw you and I didn’t know what to do,” she admits in a rush. “I sent Monty in first and he told me you were there and–fuck, I’m sorry. I was trying to figure out what to say and it was so much easier to pick a fight because I thought you’d be disappointed and–”

He cups her face and leans in to kiss her, and the relief of it is so profound it feels like a living thing.

“So you just let me complain to you about you for a week?” he asks, but he’s smiling.

“You started it.”

“I did.” She can see him swallow. “I saw you come in and I really thought it was you for a second. And then I told myself it wasn’t and I was being an idiot and I picked a fight with you.”

She laughs. “That’s one way to deal with that situation, yeah.”

“Like you did any better.”

“I didn’t.” She twines her fingers in his hair, tugging him back in to kiss him again. “I’m really glad it was you. I’m sorry I didn’t just–I couldn’t figure out what to say.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” he says. “And I’m really glad there’s only one of you.”

“Me too.” She leans in for one more kiss. “So, are you ready to finally get dinner with me?”

He laughs, bumps his nose against hers. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[littlemisskookie]

The Runaways: 02

The Runaways: 01 02 03 04 05 06 Ship: Nerd!Namjoon | BadGirl!Reader Description: From the moment you saved Namjoon, you had him hooked. But the question is- are you worth all of the trouble you bring? Warnings: Triggering, Drugs, Rapeplay, Blowjob, Breathplay, Degrading Names, Hair Pulling, Handjob, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Consensual Non-Consent, Face Fucking Word Count: 8,032 A/N: It gets worse- trust me.

Namjoon's hair blew over his forehead, the sweat that was once glistening on his tanned skin now drying, revealed from the windswept bangs that arched over his head. The window was rolled down, and his hand was stuck outside the window, letting the wind guide it as it glided along, pushing against his hand with a certain cool breeze and comforting sense. Was this what adventure felt like? To feel free, your heart hammering with new possibilities, and the excitement that followed? His heart soared with him, grinning as he stared past to the blurring lights, streaming past like ribbons flowing in the room, glowing in contrast to the night sky.

The air was warm, the humid heat was cooled by the breeze. Namjoon felt as though he had been transported back to summer- with no worries, homework, or tech nights. Perfection. The music you played was blasting, your nails tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, your red lips mouthing along to the lyrics. It was some 70's or 80's music, and though Namjoon originally didn't peg you as the type, it suited you.

"Hello daddy, hello mom," you smiled, eyeing Nams. "I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! C'mon, Nams, sing along."

"I don't really know 70's music," he admitted sheepishly. "Who's this?"

"You're joking!" you gawked at him, mouth agape in surprise. "Cherry Bomb! By The Runaways?"

Namjoon shook his head. "Never heard of them."

You rolled your eyes, diverting them back to the road. "You uncultured swine- you don't even know The Runaways! They're fantastic, in the prime music era. 70's music is so much better than the trash on the radio now, honestly. You mean to tell me you don't know a single 70's song?"

"I know the pina colada song," Namjoon offered.

"That's even worse!" you huffed. "I hate that song. The guy basically tries to cheat on his wife with an ad where she contacts him, and not to mention he didn't even know she had the same interests as him! How the hell would you not know what your wife likes? It's one thing to start fishing for people to date- but not while you're married."

Namjoon shrugged, "I like it, it's calming."

"Screw calming, what's life without thrill?" you shrugged. "That's what gives someone a mid-life crisis and makes them feel incomplete- they understand how insignificant and boring their lives were the minute their grandkids' eyes start glazing over during their stories. Everyone's so desperate to cheat death and stay safe that they've forgotten how to truly appreciate being alive."

"Didn't peg you as the philosophical type," Namjoon smirked, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. You seemed to have something new about you each time you spoke, and he liked seeing this side of you- a deep subject that you truly were passionate with, even if he didn't necessarily agree with it. He liked seeing you so adamant about something.

You tensed. "It's just the facts. I'm not that into these talks actually, it's something I try to avoid discussing. Let people live in the world they want to see, they're not hurting anyone."

"I don't think it's stupid or anything- you're allowed to state your own opinion," Namjoon pointed out.

"Not in this day and age," you laughed. "Hey, you should sleep you know, I'm depending on your shift to drive once it's morning, alright?"

"I suppose," Namjoon says, nodding his head as he began to roll up the window. Admittedly, he was getting tired, and even he knew it'd be a bit unfair to make you do all the driving.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back and listening intently to The Runaways until eventually, it faded along with his consciousness.

His eyes blinked, fully aware that bright beams of light were emitted on the thin skin of his eyelids. His lashes fluttered, looking around the car. A golden light streamed into the car, and as he looked around at the scene just outside his window, he found the two of you in practically the middle of nowhere, save for the long road that stretched before you two.

"Morning," you chuckled. "You were out like a light so quickly, y'know. But it's about time you woke up- I was fixing to wake you up myself in a moment."

"How long was I asleep?" he asked.

"Not too long, don't worry," you assured him, "though I am getting pretty tired of driving."

"I can drive now," Namjoon offered, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, no, you're still drowsy and just woke up. I'll let you drive when you're more alert, alright?" you smiled at him.

God, your hair seemed to have some sort of bed head tones, even though you weren't even sleeping. Maybe it was the long drive that made your hair have that certain texture and volume- but you looked absolutely radiant in Namjoon's opinion. "Y-yeah, sure," he coughed. "Good idea."

"Y'know Nams, I think the worst part was not being able to talk to anyone," you laughed. "I'm slightly tired, sure, but you know I'm a chatterbox. But I knew you'd need your sleep- so you're gonna have to be especially chatty today to fill in that extra time."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Namjoon murmured. "What do you have in mind?"

"Hm, well, a road trip game wouldn't hurt," you smiled. Turning to him, you winked, and Namjoon swore he could feel the sweat beads running down his temple. "As cheesy as they are, we'll try our best for them not to be lame, hm?"

"I can try," Namjoon offered. "Any game in mind?"

You hummed to yourself. "20 questions sound good. Warning though, I won't have a filter. Be prepared for lots of uncomfortable questions."

Namjoon's mouth quirked to the side, "I'll do my best to answer, then."

"Atta boy," you grinned. "I'll start. So what hand do you masturbate with?"

Had Namjoon been drinking something at the time, he was sure he'd spit it out at the window. His eyes were wide as he turned to you, stunned by your blunt question. You grinned at him, wiggling your brows at his discomfort and shock. Namjoon's cheeks bloomed pink, but he knew he had to answer truthfully. "R-right," he stammered.

You nodded, a smug look on your face as your eyes were diverted back to the road. "Interesting. I take it that's your dominant hand," you snickered. "So is your left the one you use to finger yourself?"

"It's my turn to ask a question!"

You laughed at that, "Fine, fine. It's your turn to shoot back then, Nams. Go ahead."

Namjoon thought for a moment. Should he ask something extremely personal? Or sexual, as you asked? Or should he ask something he's seriously wondering about? What about none of the above, and something safe? No, you wouldn't be pleased with that. You wanted him to dig deep- he knew that.

"You kissed me in the car," Namjoon started. "Why?"

You blinked in surprise. "Huh. So that's what you're wondering about, huh?" Namjoon chose one of the questions he actually cared about being answered, but it didn't seem to be what you were expecting. You shrugged, "I'll make it simple. You're cute. I was drunk. What else could I do?"

Huh... you thought he was cute? Namjoon felt elated at the thought.

"Okay, my turn," you turned to him.

"Please don't let it be the fingering thing," Namjoon muttered.

You laughed at that, a joyous one. "Don't worry, I won't! Now, you've seemed rather timid to me, a bit on the goody-two-shoes side- no offense though! What I want to know is how you got the guts to punch Kyle in the face that night."

That? "Well, I mean," he gulped. "I sort of just tried to- well you know how I'm in theater, right? Well, I tried to envision I was acting onstage and playing a character instead."

"That's what you did?" you blinked. "Just... acted? And you were able to do it? Because it fit the 'role'?"

"I mean... more or less..."

"Huh," you grunted, turning back to the road. "Interesting."

"Alright then," he said, tugging on the collar of his shirt nervously. His turn. He thought over it and decided it was time to up the ante a bit- go further in. "You said you were into rape play-what specifically from it?"

"What do you mean?" you narrowed your eyes.

"I mean, like, what specific actions?" Namjoon asked nervously, now unsure about whether or not that was the right choice.

A fond smile stretched over your features. "Oh. Well, I guess I'll have to be honest, won't I? I guess when someone yanks on my hair and fucks my mouth without mercy- or takes me on with risks where we could be caught- and especially the dirty talk. Being called vulgar names has always been a huge turn on for me, but it's especially dirty when they go on about how I enjoy being used as a sex toy and being raped. I don't know, it was kind of like uncovering an unknown fantasy when I first experimented with it. The less control I feel like I have, the better."

"Why's that pleasing to you?" he questioned. "I mean... I think you'd be scared of that kind of thing."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'm aware that in reality I'm still in control and can stop anything if it got too far- that's what safe words are for after all. It's kind of like... like your acting. When you get lost in a character? That's what it's like. You're not yourself- you're someone else. And you get lost in that character and that scene, and it's so surreal in a sense. The thrill feels real, though, and that's what really gets it."

"So you like when you say no and such and they simply ignore you and keep going?" Namjoon's brows furrowed.

You smiled. "Well, yes. It's consensual non-consent. I can say 'no' plenty of times during that moment and the other would know it's still ok to keep going because I mean it. And only in that moment, though, not in real life. But if I say the safeword- AKA a designated word that means I'm serious about stopping, then my partner knows to stop and it went too far. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it," Namjoon nodded. "So rough's good, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Nams! I should think it's my turn to ask the questions by now," you teased in mock anger.

Namjoon blushed. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, your turn."

You smiled, pleased. There was silence- save for the sound of the engine and your nail tapping against the steering wheel. Finally, after much contemplation, you seemed to come to a conclusion of what your question would be. "So... Nams," you cleared your throat. "Would you care to try rape play? With me, specifically?"

Namjoon's eyes were wide, and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood. Slowly he turned to you, his cheeks red. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," you confirmed. "Look- you'd just have to do what you did back when you punched Kyle: act. It'll be like playing a character in a scenario. If you could assault someone physically... who says you can't pretend to do the same sexually?"

"Wait, wait..." Namjoon held up a single finger, pausing to understand exactly what you were implying. "You mean you want to have sex with me?"

"Not right away- we'd have to test the waters," you said. "But eventually- and depending on the chemistry, of course- then yes. I do."

Namjoon was stunned. You, the girl he couldn't stop thinking about, who he hardly knew, was asking him to essentially act out a rape scene with him. Never before would he have even guessed something like this could've happened- nor that he'd even want to. To say he was intrigued would be an understatement- he was dying to sleep with you, of course. Though, admittedly, this wasn't exactly what he envisioned. But still, he had to be cautious.

"I've never done something like this before," he admitted. "What if I don't live up to your expectations?"

You shrugged. "Look, I'll understand. You're a beginner, I wouldn't expect you to get it perfectly or be completely into it the first time. But if you can't bring yourself to do it or it just goes beyond the typical mistake or uneasiness of a first time with someone, then it'd be best to leave it at that. I mean, don't worry, it wouldn't change things between us. I'm still in contact with plenty of people whose experiences involved in disappointing or horrible sex, but at least I can act civil and friendly with them still. It wasn't the end of the world."

Namjoon thought over it for a moment. Would he be able to fulfill your needs? Would he be willing to try? To try to crawl into the mind of some of the most disgusting people in the world and reenact the scenes that others would think of horrifying?

"So? Would you?" you asked him.

Namjoon hesitated. "I... yeah. I would."

You smiled, and slowly the car came to a halt in the middle of the road. Namjoon looked perplexed, giving you a questioning look. Did he say the wrong thing? You wore the same mischevious smile, an excited glint in your eye. "Get out of the car," you commanded. "You said you would- now it's time to see if you actually will."

"Woah woah woah- right here? In the middle of the road? You want me to fuck you in the middle of the road?" Namjoon's eyes bugged out.

You puckered your lips. "Well, maybe fucking's too soon. A blowjob might do, though. Test the waters."

"You're serious?" he asked.

"Dead serious," you confirmed. "I already told you what I liked- now to see how much you remember. My safe word is scrunchie, and safe motion is a peace sign, in case I can't speak."

Without further words, you turned off the engine and opened the car door, walking around to Namjoon's side of the car. His heart pounded in his chest as he got out of the car, with you in front of him, arms crossed before your chest, and a questioning and expectant look on your face.

This was his chance to prove himself to you.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and imagining himself as a character. The lights from the Cats were shining in his face, seeping past the thin skin of his eyelids in an attempt to blind him. He was on a stage instead of a vacant road, and you were but another character. His heart thundered wildly in his chest- the pressure making beads of sweat already forming along the back of his neck.

He could do this.

He opened his eyes, grabbing the back of your hair and forcing you down to your knees, where you crumpled in front of him. You gave him a doll-like stare, looking up at him with fake innocence and surprise. Namjoon gave you a dark look, perfectly aware that you were just reenacting a fantasy.

He tightened his grip on your hair, gathering it in a tight fist as he shook your head wildly from side to side, making sure pain would burst from where he was yanking on your skull. You wanted this, you said you did. But why did he still feel guilty? Dirty? Sickening? He pushed the thoughts away, trying to stay in character. "What have we got here?" He narrowed his eyes, forcing your head to tilt far back and stare up at him, your neck exposed to him in a vulnerable state. He saw how you gulped, small movements from the column of your throat as you looked up at him, your teeth gritted as you winced from his grip.

"Let me go," you whimpered out, your voice soft. Namjoon was impressed. Quite the actress you were, and it was evident this wasn't your first time playing such a pathetic and vulnerable character. You should've joined drama yourself, perhaps. But Namjoon knew you made it explicitly clear you didn't want him to stop unless you said the safe word: Scrunchie. Or the hand motion of a peace sign in case you couldn't speak.

Namjoon tsked, feeling his heart plummet slightly. But he couldn't help but feel how his dick twitched beneath the fabric of his jeans looking at you on your knees. Guilt arose with the feeling of the blood rushing to his cock. "Now, why would I do that? It's not every day we catch a pretty face, ready to get fucked, hm?" Leave it to Nams to find a way to subtly compliment her- albeit in a rather disgusting and depreciating way.

Your face became sorrowful, lips puckered into a pout, eyes looking up at him with fear that would make any actor drop to their knees or to retirement. Namjoon found your expressions and skills are worthy. He pulled his lips in a sneer, his heart pounding. Hesitantly, he grabbed at your jaw, making you look up at him with a steely grip, your cheeks smushed against his fingers and lips pulled at odd angles. "I'm gonna use that pretty little mouth- that's what."

Namjoon noticed how your eyes lit up for a brief second, and you squirmed, rubbing your thighs together. At least that was brief confirmation about how you wanted this. Still, it was a brief flash before you returned to your character, a dry sob escaping from your lips as you tried to speak clearly with his grip. "P-Please," you whimpered softly, "please don't do this. I'm begging, p-"

Namjoon quickly slapped you, feeling immediate remorse. Your head whipped to the side, cheek turned and hair covering your face. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and apologize profusely. He was a sweating pig by now, his chest heaving heavily as he looked to you in guilt, but wiped away any shame as he struggled to stay in character. "Shut up," he snapped. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real. You wanted this, you enjoyed this. Hell, it hasn't really even started yet! He needed to pull himself together.

You looked nervously up at him, your eyes glassy. For a second Namjoon thought he went too far, and fear flashed behind his dark eyes. It wasn't until his eyes wandered down, looking at how tightly you were squeezing your legs together, your hand clutching onto your knee, nails digging into the skin, that he realized he was performing exactly the way you wanted.

You remained silent, waiting for his command, a mix of fake fear and genuine excitement whirling behind your eyes. You wanted this. Namjoon was but a simple servant meant to deliver.

Namjoon reluctantly pulled up a sadistic smile. "Now, are you going to keep fighting, or are you going to suck my cock?"

Your lips quivered- whether it was with excitement or the role of a character in fear, Namjoon couldn't tell. Your shaky hands reached up, undoing the zipper of his jeans, pulling down the waistband and boxers around his knees, revealing his engorged cock. Namjoon felt flustered over how hard he was, especially doing such sadistic actions that made him feel dirty, but you seemed pleased with it.

Your hand reached up, taking the rigid member in your hand. Namjoon hissed at the feeling of your soft skin on his as you held it in place, aiming it towards your mouth. You gave him one last sorrowful look.  "Please, I don't want to do this, let me go. No, no, please I'm-"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, planting his palm on the back of your head, forcing you down on him. Your nose quickly nestled into the fine hair of his pubes, eyes bugged out. Namjoon bit his lip harshly to keep from groaning at the feeling of the sensitive head hitting the back of your throat, but you made sharp gagging noises, your throat contracting around your dick, and an unpleasant gurgling noise emitted from your clogged throat.

Realizing you couldn't breathe and Namjoon went too far, he quickly yanked you off him, his character crumpling and face full of worry as he took your face in his hands. Your lips popped off, wet and smeared with saliva, the string briefly connecting his member and your lips immediately falling apart. You gasped for air, chest heaving as you stared up at Namjoon.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I messed up. Are you OK? I-" Namjoon couldn't finish though, letting out a small groan as you squeezed his member, hand still firm on his cock as you slid your hand up and down, using the smeared saliva as a lubricant for the handjob. Your hand pumped him quickly, thumb swiping over the slit of the head, and hand twisting skillfully around. Namjoon's plump lower lip rolled beneath his teeth as he watched.

"You're doing great, Nams," you grinned, a smile covering your face. "You're a natural. But I'm fine. I'll hold up a peace sign or say scrunchie if I'm uncomfortable with something, otherwise keep going. Just try not to break out of character, 'kay?"

Namjoon was momentarily stunned, and your eyes went wide again, and mouth small.

"N-No m-m-more," you said in a breathy voice, immediately returning to the character. God, you were a natural. Namjoon composed himself again, feeling your hand go still around his flushed cock, waiting for him to continue.

He could do this.

He grabbed at your jaw again, making indecipherable mutters as he forced you down on his cock again. "More sucking, less talking," he demanded through narrowed eyes. His hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, feeling how you started bobbing your head a bit more, taking more of him inside your mouth. He wrapped his hand around your throat loosely, feeling how his cock moved inside your throat along with your head movements.

"A bit more," he mumbled, forcing your head down further, bucking his hips into your mouth. You had mentioned you liked dirty talk. Namjoon wracked his brain, trying to think back to the least cringy derogatory porn he had ever watched.

"You're a little whore, aren't you?" Namjoon let out a fake chuckle, doing his best not to make it seem forced. "You like getting used, don't you? You like the thought of someone using that pussy and forcing your legs open, huh?"

You involuntarily moaned around his cock, your tongue pressing harder on the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head more vigorously. You were clearly pleased, and the warmth of your mouth around his dick made Namjoon's legs shake. Fuck, you definitely knew what you were doing. This was his reward. Namjoon was just winging it at the moment, thinking of random phrases at the top of his head.

"Maybe you want to be used in an alley, with your face against a brick wall and someone mercilessly pounding into you without remorse. Want to be fucked like a bitch in heat? You deserve it for being such a whore, huh?"

Man, he'd never say this to a girl in real life. Well, this didn't seem like real life at least.

You screwed your eyes shut, rubbing your thighs tightly together as you bobbed your head more, some more gagging noises filling the air as you forced yourself down further. The walls of your throat tightly contracted around the sensitive head, and Namjoon let out a low, involuntary hiss at the movement. Fuck, he was getting closer and closer.

"Sluts like you don't deserve respect," he spat, slapping the back of your head. He was loosing more and more of himself to the role, letting himself forget a little bit more and more of his morals and self as he enveloped himself into the character. He was letting himself go so that both of you could enjoy this mutually.

You popped off his dick, gasping for air as your hand replaced your mouth, rigorously pumping him. Saliva was smeared on your cheeks and lips, and drool had pooled down into your lap and over your chin. It shone slightly, giving a slick look over your skin, shining slightly in the light of day. The lipstick you had been wearing was now smeared, getting everywhere. Namjoon even saw some of the markings over his dick.

He pressed your cheek against his member, feeling the soft skin press against the right side of his cock as he stared down at you. "Did I say you could stop?" he snapped, pressing you a bit harder against his cock. "Get back down there where you belong."

You awaited no further instructions, once again placing the head inside your mouth and sucking tentatively, making sure your tongue swiped over all of the most sensitive areas as you slowly sucked him in deeper and deeper. Namjoon was so close, teetering on the edge. Gathering your hair in his hands, he repeatedly bucked up and violently into your mouth, thrusting upwards to chase his high. He was so, so close. He didn't know exactly what you'd want for the ending. Most times girls wanted a warning before someone came in their mouth, right? Or maybe you'd be into him jacking off over your face, like some sort of marking?

Namjoon decided to simply let it go, knowing that any warning or break of character would perhaps ruin it for you. Instead, he forced your head down until your nose once more nestled into the fine pubic hair, and with the feeling of your throat contracting repeatedly around his throat, and slight gagging noises that filled the air, Namjoon felt himself coming undone. His peak had finally reached, and he felt as though his balls were being emptied out as his cum filled your throat.

You gagged repeatedly, your hands flying up to his thighs, nails digging into the skin as you choked on his cock and cum, but not once did your lips fly off his member, nor did your hand flash the peace sign Namjoon was prepared to see. Namjoon slowly slid out of your mouth, and once the tip finally departed from your lips, he grabbed at your jaw, colliding your lips together in an odd angle as he commanded for you to swallow down every drop.

You did so, making sure to let the warm liquid slide down your throat until you opened your mouth and revealed that not a single drop was left on your tongue.

Namjoon came down from his high, panting and sweating like a dog. His character and facade crumbled, and he was no more than Nams at the moment. He stared down at you expectantly, nervous, as though waiting for the results of a test.

"How'd... how'd I do?" he asked hesitantly as you got up from your knees, dusting the dirt off your pants.

You quirked a brow at him, wiping the saliva off your face, only smearing more lipstick in the process. "Well, it was your first time..." you trailed off. "But given your performance, I would've suspected you were a pro."

Namjoon's eyes lit up. "I did well?"

You laughed, patting Namjoon's cheek. "Nams, you did fantastically. I'm looking forward to future... sessions." You winked at the last word, and Namjoon's cheeks went crimson. The two of you climbed into the car, with Namjoon at the driver's seat and you putting the location into Nam's phone's GPS.

Over time, he caught himself staring at your sleeping figure longingly, and couldn't help but wonder what your future together would entail. He liked to think, though, that you both had all the time in the world.

Jin flatted his collar, shifting his hat as he groomed himself. What was so dashing about men in uniform? Bah, it was probably because it was just him.

His partner for the case, Officer Park Jimin, glared at him from the mirror he was standing in front of. "So, you think the kids went here?" Jimin repeated, circling the town on the map, and tapping it with his pen. "And you're sure the boy is with her?"

Officer Jin sighed once again at his partner, rolling his eyes as he turned back to him. "I'm positive."

"Are you sure you aren't connecting dots that aren't there?" Jimin asked, prodding. "We don't want any fake leads, now. It could be disastrous."

"I said I was sure, didn't I?" Jin snapped. "I know what I'm doing- I've been working this longer than you have. I've got a feeling in my gut this kid's with her- and any time a boy does something stupid, typically it's got something to do with impressing a girl. And from what I know, this is one of the few non-gay kids there are in theater."

Jimin pursed his lips. "That's a bit stereotypical, don't you think?"

"And we've got cops here who's stereotypes are that every black person is committing a crime," Jin shrugged. "Now, you want to see something wrong with police and stereotypes, there's where you go looking."

Jimin shook his head, "Look, I'm new on the job, I just don't want to fuck up on my first case."

"I know, I know," Jin sighed, walking over to his new partner. He patted Jimin's shoulder. "Look, stick with me, and with your gut, and you'll be fine. I'm telling you, he's gotta be with her, it's the best lead we've got. And if she regularly goes to this location, it's our best shot, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Jimin said.

"Good," Jin nodded, returning to the mirror to adjust his cap one last time. "Now, get in the car, and let's get this show on the road."

By the time the two of you got to the location on the GPS, it was already dark outside. After the long travels, Namjoon wandered exactly where you had brought them. It wasn't supposed to be far away, and yet it took them so long to get there. And where exactly was it? Well, oddly enough, Namjoon found himself parked in a car right in front of some dingy club. Why you brought him here, he had no clue. And where exactly 'here' was? He didn't know that either.

He looked over to you- who was now wide awake and refreshed- with curiosity and nervousness. "What're we doing here?" he asked.

"Business," you replied curtly, letting the cigarette you were holding part from your lips, smoke billowing out and throughout the car, some of it drifting out of the crack of the passenger window. Namjoon coughed slightly, doing his best not to inhale too much smoke. "We've got to get money for the hotel we're staying at, haven't we?"

"Business?" His brows furrowed. "What kind of business are we talking about?"

You stared at him for a few seconds, as though pondering exactly how to word a phrase you knew he wouldn't want to hear. "Nams, do you have a dream?"

"I... I don't know?"

"Well, what do you want in your future?"

"I mean," Namjoon thought over it. "I want a successful job that pays well, and a wife, and free time to travel I guess."

"Any place in particular?"

"Tokyo," he shrugged. "It... fascinates me somewhat."

You nodded. "I'd like to go there. Maybe one day we'll go together."

"I'd like that." Namjoon thought for a moment what that'd be like. Although, he was traveling with you now, technically. But he liked the thought of you being in his future.

"I have a dream too, you know," you mentioned briefly. "Sometimes, though, we've got to go through rather bad or dirty processes in order to achieve that dream."

"What is your dream?" His stomach twisted to what you were insinuating. What did you have to do in order to achieve this dream? Was it really worth it?

"That's a story for another time," you shook your head. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reached back behind the seats, groping until you retrieved a small, paper bag. "But I hope you get what I mean."

"I think I do," Namjoon said, the blood draining from his face. He knew you smoked and such... but what sort of business did you have involving drugs?

"Would you feel better if you had to stay in the car?" you questioned, glancing at him.

Namjoon thought over it for a moment, but ultimately decided it'd be best to join you. He had no clue what could happen to you inside there. The place was sketchy, and who knew what could happen to a  woman in such a scummy place.

He nodded his head, and you grinned, letting the cigarette meet your freshly painted lips once more. Once your lips parted, and the smoke curled around the curve of your lips and face, soaring to whisp around the ceiling of the car, you let out a sigh of content, closing your eyes. Namjoon assumed you were enjoying the dull buzz the cigarettes were giving you. You finally opened the car door, not even waiting for Namjoon, and he soon trailed after you.

The man standing in front of the entrance seemed to recognize you immediately, giving you a knowing nod. You winked at him, puffing at your cigarette once more as you grinned, your face resembling the mischevious Chesire Cat. Stepping inside, you glanced back at Namjoon, urging him with a piercing stare to come in, but the man's arm had seemingly blocked the entrance for the boy.

"Is he with you?" the man asked gruffly, his head turning towards your direction, nodding towards Namjoon.

"He is," you confirmed, your tongue prodding at your cheek as you stared at him. "Kindly let him inside, would you?"

The man grunted in response, but obeyed, muttering to himself. "Another one," he shook his head. "Let's see how long you last, boy."

Namjoon didn't know what to make of the man's words- or perhaps, warning. He caught up with you, however, seeing how the place was teeming with life. People playing pool int he center, a bar that lined one role and bathrooms for another, and people chatting on or doing God knows what else. It was different from what Namjoon could've assumed, though perhaps a more accurate depiction of what he envisioned was flashing lights and blaring music. And yes, while trashy pop music was playing in the background, the place had a less wild scene than he expected.

It wasn't exactly settling, however. Chairs were strewn about, kicked over or bashed with random holes. Everyone seemed to be smoking something, and the air was slightly fogged over from the haze of smoke that filled the room. Tattoos were littered on everyone's skin, from wild depictions to rather unsettling ones that made Namjoon question whether it was meant to be more artistic or gruesome. Some had long, dangling earlobes that reached down to their shoulders. Others had so many piercings they could've been the next supervillain, though Namjoon couldn't guess what superpower they could possibly possess. Perhaps they couldn't feel pain?

Keep your cool, Namjoon, he reminded himself.

Your eyes scanned the room, squinting through the man-made fog until it landed on a particular figure. Bag tightly clutched in one hand, you approached, walking towards the figure sitting at one of the tables. Namjoon didn't take it as your first time having this encounter, and he followed like the faithful companion he was.

You slid smoothly into the seat opposite from the man, and with further inspection Namjoon noticed the boy was perhaps younger than he was, looking to be in either his later years of high school or the very first years of college. Namjoon couldn't tell- but the boy was certainly younger than the two of you.

The boy was fidgety, his hands folded on the table, though his thumbs crossed over each other repeatedly. He didn't look either of you in the eye, his eyes focused and trained on his own slender fingers, the veiny hands acting as something of a distraction. Namjoon was perplexed as to why the boy seemingly refused to acknowledge the two of you. You, on the other hand, didn't seem the slightest bit surprised.

A sly grin stretched across your features, and you let out one last puff of your cigarette, watching how the end of the stick glowed with a warm orange, before letting it dangle between your fingers in a glamorous fashion. You cocked your head to the side, and Namjoon hadn't the slightest idea what game you were playing at with this boy. "How have you been, Kookie?" you batted your lashes, your voice mature and sultry.

The boy's eyes wavered, finally looking up at you, eyes locking. "Oh, you know," he stammered. "Same old, same old, I suppose."

It surprised Namjoon that such a seemingly innocent boy could be in a place like this. You, he could believe, but this boy looked too young, too naive to be caught up in a place like this. He reminded Namjoon of himself, somewhat.

"Nothing's changed in the last month?" you asked, propping your chin on your hand as you stared at him expectantly. "Do you want the same amount as usual?"

A drug deal. That's what this was. You were a dealer to this boy and came to him once every month to meet. It clicked in Namjoon's head. But why did this boy buy from someone so far away? Perhaps because he lived in such a small town, so any dealer would surely be known and caught. In a sense, Namjoon could see why it'd be safer not to buy locally. Who was he kidding? It wasn't safe to buy drugs in the first place!

And why did you sell drugs for a living if your relative was the dean of the college? Couldn't he lend whatever money you needed for this supposed 'dream'? Namjoon assumed it was something gritty as well.

"I-I..." the boy stammered, gulping. He clearly didn't want to say what was really going on.

You quirked a brow at him, "What is it, Jungkook? Spit it out."

"The weed," Jungkook gulped. "It doesn't give me the same high it used to. I've tried more and more but i-i-it isn't the same, and I've got big tests coming up, and I just need something to let me forget for a bit-"

"Kookie," you placed one hand on his, silencing him. He looked so frightened, like a scared little kid who thought he was going to be scolded. "No amount of weed is going to reverse that. You need something with a higher dosage- something new."

"What do you suggest?" he asked you.

You smiled warmly, reaching beneath the table and placing the paper bag on the surface. Namjoon couldn't believe no one was so much as paying attention to the scene, but as he inspected closer the strangers that surrounded them, he wasn't quite sure that the conversations they were having were as innocent as their own.

"What is it?" Jungkook asked, tugging the bag closer as he looked inside.

"Cocaine," you confirmed, digging your hand in to pull out a small bag filled with the white, powdery substance. It dangled between your fingertips, where such a small dose could have the power to change someone's life for the worse. Namjoon felt as though he was going to faint as he witnessed the scene, but he couldn't bring himself to move. It was almost as though you were coaxing this young boy to dive further into drugs, manipulating him into a downward spiral.

This is wrong, this is wrong. This boy should leave now while he had the chance. Namjoon wanted nothing more than to scream at the boy for being so stupid, and to tell him to run away, but his lips were sealed shut. He could do nothing more than watch, but he couldn't interfere in your business. This was towards your unknown dream, and Namjoon knew you'd hate him if you stood in the way. Besides, this was Jungkook's choice, not his.

Jungkook's eyes followed the substance, and Namjoon swore he could see the boy's pupils dilate at the sight. "Cocaine?" he repeated.

You nodded. "You line it up in a row, perfecting the lines with a credit card or something of the sort. Once you do that, you roll up a dollar bill and insert one hole into your nostril, and the other down at the front of the line, like a tube. Then you breathe in through your nose, perhaps closing your other nostril with your finger, pressing it closed I suggest. And you take in one breath until you get all of it down the line to the very end. Understand?"

"I think I understand," Jungkook nodded, taking the pouch in his hand for further inspection. "How much do I use and how much do I have to pay you?"

You fucking idiot, Namjoon thought. You're throwing your life away!

"I let you have your first dose of weed for free- but I'm afraid it isn't going to be the same this time," you winked, followed by a shrug. "Business calls- and me and my friend here need cash for the hotel we're staying at. I trust you brought enough money- I'll charge you 250 bucks for the whole ba."

Namjoon's eyes bugged out of his sockets. This was insane. What surprised him even more was when Jungkook grinned, slapping down a fat wad of 20s on the table, and snatching the bag. His eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal," he smiled breathily. "Keep the extra 50."

"Will do," you grinned, your hand crawling forward towards the money as you held it tightly in your clutches. "Remember to only use one pouch when you need to get high- and never more. I don't want you dying of an overdose, now would I? It'll hit hard and quick, so be prepared, it comes by quicker than you think. Same place, time, and day?"

"As always," Jungkook hurridly nodded, eager to start trying out the new drug. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Have fun!" you smiled, waving to him as he dodged past other locals, going through.

Namjoon's heart sunk down to his chest, and he walked over, plopping down in the seat Jungkook once sat in. "I can't believe you did that," he gulped. "That poor kid- what did he do?"

"It's his choice, Nams," you shrugged. "What? Getting cold feet on me now? At a time like this, you're going to abandon me? I really thought you were braver than that, Namjoon. I didn't expect you to bring my hopes up only to get disappointed."

Namjoon was silent, letting your words sink in. Was that what you thought of him? His heart ached at the thought of you thinking lowly of him. He didn't want that. "I'm... I'm not going to abandon you," he sighed. "But can't you see how this is wrong?"

You pursed your lips, standing up and dropping your cigarette, stepping on it to grind your sole into the embers and ash. "Namjoon, I have a dream. I told you sometimes we have to get our hands dirty to become successful, and I'm not going to tolerate someone who plans on stepping in the way of that."

"I won't get in your way," Namjoon raised his hands in defense. "I didn't say one word during that exchange, did I? But I don't necessarily approve of your methods of acquiring money."

You narrowed your eyes, leaning over the table to stare him in the eye. "Do you want to stick with me or not, Nams? I thought we were in this together." Your voice was steely and cold.

Namjoon's plump lips pressed together in a thin line as he stared at you. "Of course. I want nothing more than for us to be... in this together."

"Good," you said defiantly, standing upright, crossing your arms. "Then it's settled. Believe me, Nams, if you couldn't handle a little drug exchange, you're in for a wild ride. Are you sure you're up for this? For me?"

Namjoon thought for a second. "I am."

"Then I don't want to hear any more bitching about what's right or wrong on this trip," you sighed. "Am I clear?"

"You're clear," Namjoon sighed.

"Great," you smiled at last. You patted his shoulder, the cold demeanor gone and replaced with your chill, warmer one. "I don't like getting onto you, Nams, but you've gotta understand somethings aren't so black and white."

Namjoon felt like a child being scolded by a parent, and as he was about to get up and ask if you two could rent a room, another figure approached your table.

"Ah, Y/N!"

Both you and Namjoon turned to the figure, seeing a man of shorter stature and open arms, a gummy smile on his face. Namjoon's eyes narrowed, immediately locking with the stranger's, noticing the small glint in his eye. What it was, though, Namjoon couldn't identify.

You smiled warmly, wrapping your arms tightly around the stranger, an expression of glee as you greeted this seemingly old friend.

"Long time no see, Yoongi!"

Officer Jin yawned, his hands firmly placed on the steering wheel as he trained his eyes on the road. God, why was it kids couldn't just stay in their town and not go off into trouble? he thought to himself. Then again, he might not have a job if that were the case.

Jimin was by his side, his eyes skimming over the files of the missing boy and the girl Jin suspected of whisking him away from his mother. His tongue ran over his lips, and he chuckled to himself. "If you're right about him running away with the girl, I can't blame him. She's quite a looker."

"Officer Jimin, for all we know she could be a suspect for kidnapping," Jin scolded. "I'd advise for you to keep your eyes on the case and not on the girl."

Jimin rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself. "I know, I know. Can't I appreciate a pretty picture, though? She's quite the character too!"

"Related to the dean and notorious for trouble," Jin shrugged. "Wouldn't suspect anything less, to be frank."

"I'll tell you one thing, you don't meet many like her. Most of those kids who get in drugs or crimes and such- they don't have half a brain. They just focus on the present and the feelings and such," Jimin said, flipping the page, letting his eyes wander over the intimate details of your life. "But this one- unlike anything I've seen before. Well, this is my first case, so maybe I'll see more."

"No, trust me, it's unusual," Jin confirmed. "Something's fishy, all right."

"How so?"

"She seems to know how to get in trouble, but how not to get caught," Jin pondered to himself, reviewing in his mind her files and details. Sure enough, they had a few facts and background information on her. Never before had she come to their police station, and yet there was news of her for her mischievousness. A sly one, Jin took it. The she-devil could be doing God knows what- but it'd be difficult to catch her, that's for sure.

But why would someone who has access to a rich relative or half a brain be meddling in such ridiculous affairs? Typically girls with reported IQs and minds like hers wouldn't so much as think about getting involved in sex, drugs, or crimes. She had been suspected by peers for some of these activities, sure. With vandalism and smoking, that was the most the average student knew about her. But when going through some of the more restricted paperwork, Jin found it ran deeper than he initially thought.

This girl was trouble, and he was positive she had lured the young, naive boy into her web.

"I can see why she doesn't want to get caught," Jimin mused, flipping another page. "I'm sure someone like her couldn't possibly risk it."

"And why's that?" Jin asked his younger companion, his eyes briefly glancing to one of the passing signs. Ah, he should slow down, he's going over the speed limit. To hell with it, he supposed.

"Well, one of her folks is already in prison."

[datingadviceonreddit]

A long story...but worth the read if you're willing to!I met the guy I called my bf 10 days after my last bf left me. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t believe the guy that walked in to the coffeeshop to sit down across the way from me. I am an engineer, a degree in physics a nerd among nerds among nerds and this guy, a Master’s Degree in sports management, a degree in communications we can call him Mr. Cool. He is Swiss and Indian, so you know just speaks 3 languages fluently, dad works for the UN…I mean come on now. For whatever reason, the dating gods graced me with perfection that day, I was witty, I was charming, I was having a non-bushy hair day. He kissed me outside the subway on the wall at the end of the date and I felt this flutter in my heart that made me let go of all the doubt I had about myself in my last relationships. He was it for me and I thought I had actually nailed it. It turns out he just thought it was hilarious and somewhat adorable that I had spinach (literally) in my teeth our first date.The day I fell for my bf was like a scene out of Pride and Prejudice. We spent the whole day at the Met Museum, me spouting off all my nerdy talk about medieval art, showing him my favorite pieces (yes I know that museum a bit too well). We had planned to grab dinner and a movie on the other side of the park that night. Of course, the second we walked out of the Met it started to downpour. It was like and Indian Monsoon he said. We found a guy selling large umbrellas (which btw where the hell do these umbrella sales peeps come from out of nowhere when it start to rain) and bought one. We walked through the park in the muddy paths all the while stopping to kiss and listen to the rain. And we got soaked… But really come on how could you not fall for someone so patient so sweet so handsome so unbelievably everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I melted into his warmth in the theater that night while trying not to shiver from my wet feet. The rest as they say is history.The day he told me he loved me was weird. We had gone out that night for his best friends birthday. I had run into a friend on the streets (male) who worked at a wine bar in west village and offered us free champagne for Mr. Cool’s friends bday. Somehow everyone was really against accepting free champagne (they all thought it was like they were getting hustled as they did in Switzerland). We headed over to a club one of my friends was at The Jane which btw is always a horrible plan…there’s literally no air conditioning. At this point I was a little drunk…and when I get drunk I just talk…slurred but yes I talk a lot. I spoke to the bouncer going in and out of the club. Chatted with Mr.Cools friends or so I thought. When we got back to my place, suddenly Mr. Cool was pissed off at me. He started yelling at me and asking me “is this how you always act, just flirt with everyone?” Now just a little background…I am from the west coast. I think talking to everyone is normal, not flirtatious but friendly. And I seriously didn’t believe I was trying to be flirtatious at all that night..even a little (with the bouncer? Like really?) Anyway he made me cry because I didn’t understand what I did wrong. He kept saying he was going to leave me which…flash back a few months before, this same problem happened with my ex who got mad that my ex bfs sent me text messages (even after I showed him the messages). So I panicked started to cry, kept thinking what the hell am I doing wrong and Mr. Cool stop and said…look its cause I love you….RED FLAG #1 The next month I was in his home town in Switzerland. I was in Paris for work that week and wanted to do a weekend trip, had never been to Switzerland but had always wanted to see it. It was incredible. The town was so quaint, the country so beautiful, it was out of a dream. He had connected me to one of his best friends who offered to take me out to some very Euro clubs. Kept asking what I did (as in drugs)to which I responded literally nothing. I just wanted to drink and have fun with one of Mr.Cool’s best friends. We ended staying out until 4:00 am. So I’m a female alone in a foreign city, not that it is a bad city but one of the friends of Mr.Cools friends offered to walk me back to my hotel. We got back to my hotel he said goodbye and I went up to sleep. I wanted to wake up early the next day to check out the sites and play tourist. I woke up to angry texts and phone calls from Mr. Cool who was mad I didn’t text him when I got home…In Switzerland while he was in NY…Mind you I am a 26 year old adult who’s traveled by herself on numerous occasions. I’m not used to checking in with my bf…he yelled at me told me I had ruined his reputation in Switzerland ect ect. I honestly don’t remember how he calmed down eventually but I believe he eventually did.RED FLAG #2 We went out on a date to a burger joint, skipped ahead of the entire line and sat down at a booth. The waiter someone gave us a little grief for doing this but gave us the Ok to stay. So I did what I’ve always done with my wait staff, strike up a convo (I used to be a waitress myself and really loved to talk to my tables.. therefore I assume all people like to talk to tables whoops). I complemented his glasses saying I really like his style, aske a few questions about the signatures on the bricks in the restaurant to see if they were in fact real (yes Dr.Dre had in fact eaten there) ect ect. Suddenly Mr.Cool just falls silent. Won’t respond to me at all. We sit and eat in silence. I wrote (as I literally do at every restaurant) thank you on the receipt with a ❤ heart. WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING??? Mr. Cool absolutely freaked out that I would ever act like that in front of him. He kept saying how would you feel if I told some girl like nice tits? (maybe not the equivalent of nice glasses?) But I responded, look I am not a jealous person. If you want to hit on girls and get there numbers then don’t be in a relationship but I wasn’t hitting on the waiter…at the burger joint…wearing glasses.RED FLAG #3 I have a really nice apartment in NY. I had recently transition jobs which required me to have a remote desk (working for a company in SF) so had to have a real normal sized room (gasp they exist in NY). Because of this nice apartment and my remote working, I had offered have Mr.Cool leave some stuff at my place every now and again. The reason being, he still had to live with his parents. (Visa problems/going to school and you can’t have an income it was his only solution, not a problem for me at all I really do support it). So the logical thing when you’re in a relationship would be to slowly transition into your gfs place. He left a toothbrush. After 9 months of us dating (6 months formal) that was all he would leave. He would go so far as to spend the night and go home at 7 in the morning because he got tired of bringing his stuff here. I offered time and time again to just keep 2-3 shirts 1 pair of pants and maybe a pair of shoes at my place (btw we live 10-15 min apart at most) and he refused. We’re 27 now…it seemed a bit bizarre. He also never ever wanted to shower with me. I mean each to his own but it really made me feel like he just wasn’t comfortable with me…that I wasn’t sexy enough for him.RED FLAG #4 Mr. Cool is always late…not 10-20-30 min late. 2-3 HOURS late. Every time I invited him out with my friends, he would show up 2-3 hours late, make an excuse that he had to walk the dog, or had to shower, or had to clean or had to blah blah blah. Everytime. In the 9 months (at this point) we had been together he had met my friends twice….He kept saying he hates going out and clubbing and partying. But just before me he was dating a model and did that with here nearly everynight. I understand being burned out…I do but twice is a really bad statistic.RED FLAG #5 When we were together I was always on my phone…It is a bad habit I picked up from dating my high school sweetheart long distance for 7ish years. It’s a problem I have. But when I was with him, he was constantly looking at sport scores, constantly reading articles constantly on Instagram constantly disconnected with me. I think I have a lot of fault in that too but it made it hard for me to break that habit.Ok so now we get into the part where I really fucked up. Yes people I fucked this relationship up, my man among men, I ruined it.I mentioned I had started a new job. I was a remote worker, very disconnected and isolated from social environments and getting worse since my bf never wanted to spend time with my friends and I only wanted to spend time with him. We had these great weeks called strategy weeks where my entire company would go out to SF and we would be in meetings for 12 hours and then dinners and drinks. The whole time my bf would call me and freak out if I didn’t text him when I was home…he kept saying “im just worried about you.” But it felt like he was being possessive and trying to control me. When I was out at work, I needed to focus on learning everything I could from my colleagues and learning what resources I had available should something come up that I don’t know the answer to. See I had moved from being a flood resiliency engineer to working in series reactor/ series capacitor technology…a field dominated by EE Phds. I am a civil engineer….I had a lot a lot a lot a lot to learn. So we would go out to dinners as a group. My colleagues and I. But one time…my colleague invited me to a solo dinner. He had invited other colleagues on solo dinners such as these. My boss who I was closest to in particular suggested I go out to dinner with this guy for traditional Lebanese food. Now I am a young 26 year old at this time, he is a 41 year old well established engineering colleague. I was an absolute naïve idiot to think that he would respect the boundaries of professionalism. So at this dinner I thought everything was good! We talked about my career as and as engineer and that he felt I should really pursue my PE ect ect. It seemed very non-threatening. Plus he was our project engineer so someone I needed to know his skillset to help me in the future as I’m helping progress our projects. He gave me some of his homemade Lebanese drink (kind of like greek ouzo) then I took a car home. Everything was professional and perfect and nothing seemed off.I got laid of January. I was working for a startup and these things happen. I got laid off in a slaughterhouse style where 15 of us were in a room…while the rest of our company was in the other room (of course all my crap happened to be in the nonslaughterhouse room). My 41 year old colleague had a car, I did not. He rescued my stuff, and grabbed me out of the crowd of sympathetic former colleagues. I have never felt so awful in my entire life. I have never felt so rejected and low and miserable in my entire life. He was a saving grace. He told me I have a lot of edible weed and wine. And that was literally all I wanted. Now I will tell you he did try to kiss me once. And I told him time and time again I had a bf and it was inappropriate. We were colleagues nothing more. But I made the STUPID MISTAKE to go with him. I called my bf from the car and he was sympathetic and sweet. I think all I wanted was for him to say come home come back to me I’ll help you, we’ll figure this out, its going to be ok. But he just said “I’m really sorry.” I proceeded to get absolutely blackedout that night. Woke up in a hotel with colleague and freaked out….I didn’t know what had happened I didn’t know how to deal with being laid off. I just wanted to go home.Flash forward to me driving home. My supportive bf tells me to not be too complacent in searching for jobs. I get home…and there’s a laptop on my doorstep. I’m thinking its from my bf, what a sweet and insanely kind thing to do….nope….it was from the 41 year old….then I get flowers…not from my bf but from the 41 year old. At this point I started to feel a bit threatened. I didn’t think this guy had malicious intent but I was wrong. I started seeing this weird doting pattern from him. Now I wanted to tell my bf about it but lets think back to all of the instances when literally nothing was going on and my bf freaked out…and nothing I said or did could assuage his anger. I started thinking this 41 year old…did something to me. He was sending me gifts. He was 100% prepared for when I got laid off…did he get me fired so he could have a shot? He kept saying you’re not engaged, you’re not married, a boyfriend basically means you’re single “girls use that as a defense in the bay all the time.” I mean are you f***ing kidding me? You pursue women who clearly don’t want your attention by justifying it’s just a defense. I don’t know what happened that night…but I started feeling like I was getting hush money. That he had gotten me fired, that he had something over me and he was trying to win me over my bf. I cheated on my bf. The man I loved more than I ever thought I could. I cheated on him with this 41 year old. I saw him when I went to the bay and I cheated on him.Now 41 year old starts to facebook friend request my sisters…and showed up to dinners I had in the bay with my little sister (UNINVITED). I felt so threatened and uncomfortable and I thought…He’s going to tell Mr. Cool I did something with him….he has photos of that night, the night I don’t remember and he’s going to destroy my relationship with him. So I slept with him...More than once. I don't know if it was because I was scared, because I wanted to, because I figured things are over with Mr. Cool, because it seemed right...I dont knowI wanted to tell Mr. Cool. I really did but I didn’t know how to explain or justify what had happened. I knew he would get angry...I just didn't know how muchSo Mr. Cool is graduating…and he gets a guerilla email from someone saying “Hope you’re having fun on you special day, did you know your “girl” has been seeing someone since December?” 41 year old….sent him that message.Now, Mr.Cool confronted me. We talked about everything I told him everything and he decide I needed to work to earn his trust back, that I needed to bend over backwards to be with him again.And I said ok. I signed myself up to go to a counselor (another one from the one I had been seeing since this event happened, new job, new insurance, new counselor). I have busied myself with new volunteer efforts, gone to the climbing gym made plans with gfs worked to be happy by myself with out relying on him to make me happy…worked on just being ok with what happened and trying everyday to earn his trust back. Being forward with him about conversations with other men. Telling him if something had changed from what I previously told him. He assumed I was constantly lying and I ACTUALLY WASNT.So its been a month. I have told him everyday where I’m going who I’m seeing what I’m doing and sometimes things change, we're in a fight so I tell him new facts after. For example, a guy friend of mine who he is insanely jealous of since he is an ex of mine from 5 years ago wasn't going to a wedding I'm attending but is now going to a wedding I'm attending. This all came to light while we were fighting...it wasn't my top priority to tell him. But I did tell him with in 3-4 days of me finding this out for myself.He has called me a whore, he has told me he is going to kill himself because of this break up, he told me I had to have sucked a guys dick off in order to get my new job, he has told all of his friends and family I cheated on him and has isolated me from everyone else. He has accused me of wanting to sleep with all of my guy friends. He got mad at me for deleting photos when I tried to break up with him for the 100 time because I can’t take it anymore. He accused me of deleting photos so I could sleep with whoever I wanted when I had to travel for work… Who actually does that and like photographic evidence stops men from hitting on someone???I am at my lowest low. I don’t know what to do. I went out last night with old friends from my undergrad, males and females and he got so mad at me….He was out with his friends who didn’t want me to come because of what I did to him… I need some advise. I love him…I want to work though this but I really need the guy to meet me like 10% of the way there and I will carry the other 90%. He’s absolutely allowed to be hurt and angry but at what point is it too much?! There have been so many problems in this relationship and I’ve stood by thinking its just a phase, eventually he’ll leave stuff here, eventually he’ll want to hang out with my friends, eventually he’ll prioritize me over walking his dog…these were problems long before the 41 year old happened.I MESSED UP…I KNOW I DID I CHEATED ON HIM. But how do I move forward in this if he’s not willing to work to forgive me? via /r/dating_advice