#I’m just down in the dumps because my brain hates me hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow

[morelikedoccock]

I hope you like cute animals, because you're getting them

Hope this helps! Because you're an amazing human being that deserves the world<3

Love Raccoon 🦝

Awwuhhhhh this is so cute thank youuuu😭💖

[foreverindreamlandd]

Bucky wanted to read her fanfictions and she always declined. So he begged and begged and begged... until she finally gives up and let him read one. 'Cause who could really say no to Bucky making puppy eyes?!

Let me know what you think about it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 1.5k (I am apparently incapable of writing a drabble)

A/N: Thank you again for another awesome request! I was basically cackling the whole time I wrote it. Want to read about how Bucky and this reader got together? Check out their origin story in my To Be Wanted series! Only warning in this one is the usual swearin’ like a sailor.

----

“See, this is why I always order Thai food. I can never do it justice.” You frown over your wok, mixing the noodles around with a wooden spoon hoping it will somehow make your creation taste better.

“I’m sure it tastes great, doll.” Bucky walks up next to you and grabs a noodle, tilting his head back as he drops it into his mouth.

His eye twitches almost imperceptibly and you groan.

“It’s good,” he coughs out, trying with all of his strength to regain his composure. “I think you just went a little too hard on the chili paste. I can feel my sinuses clearing up though, which is good, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Can you check the recipe on Pinterest again? I swear I put in the right amount.”

Bucky walks over and picks up your iPad. Right as he’s scrolling to find out if you should have used 2 tablespoons or 2 teaspoons of chili paste, a notification banner pops up and he accidently taps it, opening up your Tumblr app.

Omg! This fic is amazing! The way Bucky is there to support the reader. My heart completely melted! Your Bucky stories are amazing, Y/n! <3

Above the comment is a photo of him. It’s a shot from the news where he’s helping a civilian stand up after one of the attacks made by The Red Hand.

“Uh….love? What’s this?” He holds the iPad up to you and you shift your gaze over to him.

You drop the wooden spoon into the wok as all of the blood drains from your face. You’re frozen in place for a millisecond before you pounce on Bucky to grab the device from him. He’s never seen you move so quickly and it catches him off guard.

“Bucky give me the iPad right now,” you fling your arms toward it and he pulls it away, both amused and a bit concerned by your reaction.

“Wait, what is this? Is it something I should be worried about?”

You see a flicker of panic flash in his eyes and you stop flailing. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“No, I mean, I should be concerned because if you read that I’m probably going to combust and you’re going to dump me and run for the hills.” He furrows his brows in confusion and you slowly lift up your hand. “Can I please have that back before I have a mild panic attack?”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your emotions. All he can see is panic and sadness and it breaks his heart so he instantly gives in and hands you the iPad.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I trust you.” He leans forward to give you a chaste kiss.

You let out a pained groan against his lips and Bucky is once again confused.

“Ughhhh I hate hiding things from you.” You lock your iPad so the screen goes dark. “Okay, fine, I guess this conversation is happening. Remember when we first started dating and I, uh, mentioned I used to read and write stories about….us being a couple?”

Bucky nods, trying not to reveal any emotion to you that might make you spiral into a panic, and you continue.

“Well, that was one of those stories I wrote. I stopped looking on Tumblr basically as soon as I met you because it got all weird and meta and I got super uncomfy by the idea of reading fanfics - that’s what they’re called - about my new friend/now boyfriend Bucky Barnes. And then we started dating and I was all happy and shit and I totally forgot that those fics were still out there. Obviously I haven’t written any since then because that would be weird for...many, many reasons. Someone must have found an old one and commented on it. I’ll delete it. I’ll delete all of them. I swear. I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should have been more on top of this.”

Bucky stares at you, lips pursed and you grimace, afraid of the next words that are about to come out of his mouth.

This is so weird, Y/n. How could you do this?

No wonder you didn’t date anyone before me.

Obsessed much? (Okay, he probably wouldn’t say it like that but STILL).

No, what Bucky said next was much, much worse than what you could have imagined.

“Can I read one?”

Your mouth drops. Closes. Drops again. You blink rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. What?”

Bucky points to your iPad, a sly grin forming on his face. “I want to read one of your stories.”

You take a step back from him, horror stricken as you pull the iPad closer to you as if you were protecting your collector’s edition of ‘Throne of Glass.’

“Absolutely not.”

Bucky steps forward and you step back. He chuckles. “Come onnn, doll. I want to know what your fantasies were about me before we got together.” He laughs harder as the look of horror on your face grows more manic.

“Bucky, I know you’re a super soldier and could probably punch me into the sun with your metal arm, but I promise I will fight to the death before I let you read one of these fics.”

You and Bucky continue this dance of him stepping forward and you stepping back until you feel your legs make contact with your couch and you fall back into a sitting position on its arm. Bucky uses this opportunity to tower over you, his arms resting on the couch so that you’re pinned between them.

Then, he pulls out the big guns.

His gaze softens, blue eyes shining into yours. His bottom lip puffs out and he gives you the most adorable, sexiest pout you’ve seen in your whole life.

“Please, love?” He says it with a slightly higher pitch, almost like a whine and it still sounds like honey to your ears. He even nudges your nose with his like a freaking sociopath.

Damn.

You close your eyes, let out a breath, then open them back up to him. “I hate you.”

His pout turns into a boyish grin and he gives you a quick kiss. “You love me.”

You groan. “Hopefully you still love me after this, Buck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You stand and open up your iPad, scrolling through your masterlist and finding what used to be one of your favorite fluff pieces. You begrudgingly hand it to Bucky and he sits on the couch.

Unable to sit still during this agonizing experience, you proceed to pace around your apartment like a crazy person and resort to cleaning the inside of your microwave which you haven’t done in a few months so it’s a good thing that Bucky is reading your fic so that you could get that out of the way. You probably won’t have a boyfriend in a few minutes but at least your microwave will be spotless.

You only steal a few glances at Bucky as he reads, mortified each time as you see his eyebrows move in every possible direction. Up, down, knit together, were they criss-crossed at one point?

Finally, after what feels like the longest ten minutes of your life, Bucky lets out a soft grunt, placing the iPad down on his lap. He looks up to you and you give him a weak smile.

“Alright, let me have it, Buck. Give me your worst. Be honest. Also, I love you.”

Bucky glances down at the iPad and then back at you.

“Well, I have a few questions.”

Your right eye twitches. “Hm?”

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still think my eyes are an all-consuming storm of blue?” You groan. He grins. “Or do you think my jawline was cut from marble created by the gods?”

This time, you breathe out a laugh and you walk over to sit on his lap. You take hold of his chin.

“Bucky, I don’t think I could ever come up with the right words to describe you. The real thing is quite literally a million times better than anything I’ve ever written.”

His eyebrows raise. “That is...probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my whole damn life.” He leans forward and kisses you, and you sigh into the feeling of his mouth on yours, relief flooding through you.

You pull away, eyes skeptical. “So, you’re not thinking about how you can escape and never see my crazy ass again?”

“On the contrary, love, I’m thinking about how I can convince you to buy this gorgeous green dress you apparently wore as my wedding date. The one that showed off your cleavage in a way that made Bucky’s brain melt.”

The two of you burst out laughing and you lightly shove his chest. “Sure thing, Bucko. How about I work on the dress situation and you work on ordering us Thai food so that we don’t lose our taste buds from whatever the hell I just made.”

-----

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)

Taglist: @ceo-of-daichi @biiskuitx @forgetthisbull @eclipses-and-moondust @abcdefxkyou @jackiehollanderr @billionsofbeans @abitgryffindorky @lovelylostminds @mija-just-breathe @semlohkratz @bratty-longbottom-replies @carrotfantasimp @cremedelabrulee @ant1r3al1ty @th-e-mg@laura-moehrchen @emma-the-duck17 @sunnyjane4 @rosaline-black @parodsal000 @vicmc624 @abrunettefangirlnerd @officiallykuute @edityourwishingwell @mymindslabyrinth

***This was the original tag list for the To Be Wanted series. If you would like to be removed from the taglist for any other stories related to this series, feel free to DM me! And let me know if you would like to be *added* to the taglist for any other future stories featuring these two knuckleheads. :)

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Has Visitors

You’re a fool.

A blind, tunnel-visioned, desperate fool.

There’s no one you can blame for this mess but yourself.

You were moronic enough to think that a promise would’ve been enough to stop Grim from going after more overblot stones.

And now where are you?

Lying in a bed in the infirmary, bandages and gauze wrapped around you from your collarbone to your chin, because the one creature in this fucked up magic world that you were stupid enough to trust unconditionally tried to rip out your throat over a rock.

Your neck aches. You’re so tired it feels like you can barely even move. Your head is a weird weight of white noise, making it hard to think about anything other than your current predicament and how you should’ve seen it coming a mile away. How you should’ve stopped it.

Maybe—maybe it was because you’d made him hold out too long. Maybe that’s it. Maybe you were wrong to make him swear not to eat any more, and him lashing out at you over Vil-senpai’s stone was just-just temptation that had been pushed too far. Why weren’t you looking after him more closely anyway? You’re his supervisor, you’re supposed to make sure Grim doesn’t get into trouble, you should’ve noticed he was gone sooner. Then maybe this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like Grim wasn’t working hard to uphold your deal, you were the one who wasn’t meeting his efforts halfway. After all, he hadn’t eaten anything after Jamil-senpai’s overblot, had he?

...

Had he?

No stone ever turned up after Jamil-senpai’s overblot.

And you were so out of it that night, riding out the aftereffects of the overblot’s venom and the anti-venom warring in your system.

Grim could’ve easily left during the night and eaten it, and so long as you never asked, never pressed him about it, you’d have been none the wiser.

And you didn’t ask. You just trusted him.

You’re a fool. A pathetic, misguided, twisted, worthless fool.

Your family was right about you.

You would grind the heels of your hands into your eyes, but even lifting your arms towards your face feels like more effort than you can spare right now. Luckily it takes no effort to stare up at the ceiling and just hate yourself for your stupidity.

You’d have thought you would have learned that trusting people is an awful idea already. Hopefully this will finally get the message through your thick skull—

“Yuu?”

You tilt your head and blink up at Deuce. He grins, blindingly bright. “Guys, he’s awake!”

You weakly smile back, ruthlessly squashing the urge to correct him.

Epel pushes the divider back as he rounds it, pretty face worried. “Prefect, how are you feeling? Nurse Kamac said you lost a lot of blood.”

“M okay.” You mumble back, your tongue feeling thick and sluggish in your mouth.

“What the hell happened to you, Prefect?” Deuce moves to pull up a chair and sit down next to you, shooting you doubtful looks. “Was it an attack by another overblot or something? Some kind of monster? Did you get jumped by some punks from RSA?”

You wonder what you should tell them. You know that all you have to do is tell him the truth, say the word, and they’ll all be off after Grim like a group of hunting dogs, just like when you used to ask Ace and Deuce to help you catch him back at the start of the school year.

But Grim might get hurt. Or he might hurt them.

Can you put them through that?

Ace collides with the foot of the bed, interrupting your internal debate, eyes wide and panting. “Guys, bad news. Crewel’s outside asking for us, he looks pissed.”

Deuce and Epel stiffen in tandem, darting nervous glances towards the door like the potions and alchemy teacher will burst in at any moment. “What’d you do?!” Deuce hisses.

“How’d you know it wasn’t you, ass?!” Ace protests. “Seriously, we can’t keep him waiting! I think he’s even madder than the time Grim turned his coat pink and green.”

All four of you shudder collectively.

Epel grabs Deuce’s arm, squaring his shoulders. “We just gotta—need to see what Professor Crewel wants right? It may not even be us he’s piss—irritated at. Just gotta man up and face him.”

Deuce nods, even though he looks like he really, really doesn’t want to. He and Ace follow Epel away from your bed and towards the infirmary exit. You loll your head back onto your pillows and resume your staring at the ceiling.

“But Ace, no one’s...?”

“What the—?!”

There’s a bang as the infirmary doors slam shut.

You look over in time to see Ace slide a mop through the door handles, and drag a chair over to prop under them. He then points his magic pen at it all and a padlocked chain loops itself around the whole affair and clicks shut. You can hear Deuce and Epel hammering on the other side, demanding he open up.

“Ace?” You struggle to sit up, your throat aching. “What—”

“Shh, sh, easy, we gotta be quick.” He darts over you, helping you to sit up and pulling up the pillows behind you to lean back against. “Do you need me to get your shirt for you?”

“W-what?” Your brain is still struggling to catch up.

Ace gestures impatiently to your chest.

You look down.

Oh.

Oh.

You look back up at Ace, cold sweat drenching you.

Please no. Not him too.

Ace reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out—!

He holds up your binder. “Figured Kamac might not have let you keep it. It hurts your ribs, right?”

Wait. What?

“H-how...?” You stutter, fumbling with the buttons at your collar.

He shoots you a look. “I basically carried you back here from Dwarf Mines. It was easy to tell something was up when Kamac wouldn’t let me or Deuce stay in the room while you were getting patched up. Plus this was kinda dangling out your back pocket when you came out”

Well. That’s. That’s...

“Look are we doing this or not?!” Ace hisses, shooting a nervous glance back at the door where Deuce and Epel’s voices are being joined by others and growing louder. You think you hear Kalim-senpai’s twittering, Vil-senpai barking orders, and Jamil-senpai’s drawl.

You begin working on your buttons with newfound determination.

Ace helps you get your head through the top hole of the binder without pulling on the bandages around your neck too much.

You struggle your arms through the arm holes, and then shrug the hospital pajama shirt back on. He’s already done over half the buttons by the time you’ve recovered from your discombobulation.

“Feel okay? Not hurting your breathing or anything?” You nod, still disoriented. “Okay, let’s just get you back under the covers, and then I’ll let in the circus.”

There’s another metallic clang from the door and a cry of pain that sounds worryingly like Ashengrotto-senpai.

“W-why?” You rasp, an odd swooping feeling catapulting in your stomach, like you’ve just jumped off the bleachers again. “Why would you...?”

Ace heaves a sigh and gives you a look normally reserved for Deuce and Grim. “Because you’re my friend, you little dumbass. Getting something like this for you isn’t a big deal or anything.”

You gape at him so hard it feels like your eyes are burning.

Something inside you feels impossibly, uncontrollably warm.

Turns out getting a lump in your throat really hurts when you’re recovering from having it slashed open.

“Aw, jeez, what’s with the waterworks?!” Ace leans over you, ungloved hand swiping at the tears on your cheeks. “C’mon Yuu, if they get back in here and see you crying, you know Deuce’ll kill me.”

“Good. ‘S a-all your fault. I won’t f-forgive you until you give me a hug, you big jerk.” You sniffle, opening your arms and holding them out.

He huffs a laugh, before following your orders. “You’re a tyrant, ya know that? You’re as bad as Vil-senpai and Dorm Head Riddle.”

“I’m worse than they could ever be.” You mumble, hiding your burning eyes in his shoulder. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Oi, you better not be wiping your nose on my jacket!” He tries to shrug you off gently. He still hasn’t stopped hugging you though. “Get your snot and tears offa me!”

You cling onto him tighter, unable to stop giggling even as a few hysterical tears slip down your cheeks. “Suffer.”

“Tyrant.” He fakes an exasperated groan, but you can feel him chuckling along with you.

There’s not many things you can think of that would ruin this moment.

“King’s Roar.”

...Being bathed in sand as the doors to the infirmary disintegrate certainly wasn’t one you had in mind, though it does the trick well enough.

Lucky you had Ace hugging you to act as a human shield for the worst of it.

He sputters once the deluge has subsided, shaking his head and rudely dumping the excess sand into your lap. “Ugh, senpai, what the hell?! Would it have killed you to wait one minute?!”

“You take too long.” Leona-senpai shrugs, pocketing his magic pen again and sauntering in to stretch out on the empty bunk next to you. “These guys wouldn’t stop whining until I did something.”

Deuce rushes over to your bedside with Epel and Kalim close behind him, kneeling down next to you. “Prefect, are you okay?! What’d he do to you?!”

“His eyes are all red an’ swollen!” Epel points out before you can say anything. “Ace, you bas—”

“Epel.” Vil-senpai stalks in, looking much better since you last saw him at VDC. Healthier, somehow. “But yes, Potato #1, what exactly were you playing at, locking everyone out like that?”

Ace stammers under Vil-senpai’s cold glare, so you take pity on him, clearing your throat weakly. “Ace just didn’t want any witnesses to him fussing over me. He’s allergic to showing kindness, after all.”

For some reason, being able to say that and have Ace elbow you playfully makes you feel...buoyant, somehow.

Everyone stares at you. The weight of their disbelief is heavy.

Kalim places his hands over yours. “Yuu, you don’t have to be afraid to tell us the truth! You’re among friends here!”

“Oi!” Ace protests.

“Who’re you calling ‘friend’?” Leona-senpai interjects, because he’s still a huge bag of dicks.

Ashengrotto-senpai has his magic pen in its cane form and is leaning on it heavily, limping. “I wouldn’t worry Kalim-san. I’m sure whatever the Prefect experienced can’t be worse than having a cauldron drop on you.”

Deuce inches closer to hide behind you and Epel sheepishly.

“Technically Azul, it was rebounded onto you off the doors of the infirmary.” Jade-senpai interjects cheerfully, switching a bouquet from one hand to the other. “Though I’m sure Spade-san would be glad to reimburse us for damages through labor if necessary~”

Deuce lets out a squeak.

“Eeeeh~~ Crab-chan, were you doing something naaauughty with Shrimy all alone in here~?” Floyd-senpai drapes himself over Ace’s shoulders, arms looping around him. “No faaaaaiiir, I wanna play too~~”

Ace stiffens, face growing to match his hair as Floyd-senpai’s arms begin to tighten. “J-Jamil-senpai—!”

Jamil-senpai cruelly ignores him. “Kalim, make sure you’ve still got your magic pen when we leave. The Prefect might try to add to his collection.”

You shoot him a look. “When are you going to let that go?”

He sits on the end of your bed and smiles sweetly at you. “When you stop making a nuisance of yourself by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Prefect.”

You try to dissect that statement, then give up and settle for attempting to kick him off the bed. You only end up depositing more sand into your lap under the covers.

He laughs at you, because for all his talk about reputation, Jamil-senpai is also a huge bag of dicks.

The dust and sand irritates your nose and throat, making you cough hard. It’s not as bad as it was after Vil-senpai’s overblot, but you feel the warning tugs on your weakened lungs and torn throat. You gratefully accept the glass of water Epel hands you, gulping it down.

The sand around you gently shifts and seeps out from under and on top of your covers as you swallow, pooling into a large pile at your bedside.

Leona-senpai’s tail flickers as he tucks his magic pen back away and pretends to be sleeping again.

Deuce begins to fret over you, taking the empty cup from your hands and ineffectually trying to fluff your pillows. You let him hover as Ace rolls his eyes and playfully ribs at him for his mother-henning.

Jade-senpai places the bouquet in a small vase on the table next to you with Vil-senpai and Epel fussing over the arrangement every time Floyd-senpai delights in deliberately poking the flowers out of alignment.

Kalim-senpai promises to bring you a carpet next time, maybe even an elephant if you want, much to Jamil-senpai’s dismay. Ashengrotto-senpai begins trying to negotiate for even more presents.

Leona-senpai half-heartedly growls at everyone to shut up and let him sleep.

You’re a fool if you think trusting these people will turn out any better than trusting Grim did.

But somehow, you feel like you’d rather be a fool and enjoy the warmth blooming in your chest right now rather than anything else.

[hoebii]

Like me better

Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader

Genre : Fluff, Highschool!Au, e2l, rivals

Rating : PG13

Warning : ‘Curse’ words are mentioned (is ‘shit’ even a curse word fhgjv), OC wanting to choke Jimin and not in the kinky way, brief mention of Jimin being a playboy thot, hating on mint chocolate because it’s the worst flavour to exist you can fight me on this

Wc : 4k

A/N : Alright, this was originally supposed to be a birthday drabble but it got a little out of hand as you can see. We had a whole lot planned for this fic but it got too long oops- so we decided to cut it short and keep the ending open huhu. Happiest birthday to our precious maknae @heejinnien​ from @xiaokoo​ (who also made this AMAZING banner btw) and I. Hope you like your present baby! We love you so so so much~<3 Also this isn’t as edited as I’d like it to be but I got impatient okay don’t @ me :<

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

The bustling crowd of students bumped into you repeatedly as you weaved through them to get to class. You kept a strong grip on your books so as to not drop them. People squeezed passed as you tried not to trip and fall flat on your face. You had slept through your alarms and were currently rushing to your class, cursing at yourself for this blunder in your head. 

“Sorry, excuse me, oh shit!” You catch yourself as you tumbled to the ground. Your books splay across the floor as you winced at the sore feeling. Hopefully, no one would step on you or your books - you had paid good money for them!-. As for tripping over, you looked over your shoulder, glaring when you caught sight of a group of boys laughing. 

“Aw is little princess hurt?~” You heard one of them call out, the others snickering in the background. You ignored them and started gathering all your books, telling yourself they weren’t worth the trouble. You were almost done picking up all the books on the ground when one was suddenly snatched from your grasp. Looking up at the culprit you see Park Jimin, the bane of your existence, holding it up.

“Are you sure you even need books?” He snickers, flicking through it. “You’re not even smart, why bother studying if it doesn’t do you any good?” 

You feel your blood boil. How dare he?! You were smarter than him in every possible way. He had no right to mock you, sure he was smart but you always placed second. If there was one thing you hated, it was being second best to Park Jimin. 

“You’ll just come second like always.” 

That comment hit you hard. You tried to keep your cool, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Sure, Jimin was annoying but there was no way you were going to create a scene because of it. Not again. Instead, you rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him and walked away. There would be no reason to argue with a dumbass. Why waste your time?

Jimin watched as you walked away. He smirked to himself. Despite acting calm, he’d known you long enough to know that you were fuming inside. There were buttons he knew how to push to get the reaction he wanted and he thoroughly enjoyed provoking you. 

--------

You stumbled into the classroom, panting from the light jog. “Damn I need to get back in shape, Jesus Christ.” you whispered to yourself. 

“Miss Y/L/N, care to explain why you’re five minutes late to the class?” Your professor’s voice boomed in the small classroom. You look at him, giving him a sheepish smile as you rub your neck. 

“I… got lost…?” 

What was that?! You wanted to smack yourself at your own words. So much for your perfect attendance. 

“You got lost?”

“Y...es…”

Your professor took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just, just go to your seat.”

You scurried to your seat, setting down your books and sitting down. You heard snickering from beside you and you turned your head slightly towards the sound to see none other than Park Jimin laughing at you. Feeling your face flush in embarrassment, you turned towards your professor and started jotting down notes. You were not going to get riled up by Jimin during a class. 

-----------

It’s official. Life hates you. You must have been some sort of a witch in your last life who thrived by torturing others. That had to be it. Why else would you ever get partnered with Park freaking Jimin for your science project?! Apparently, the professor had said it was because you two were ‘top students that will compliment each other well’. But you’re certain it was actually because she hated you and you must have tortured her or something in your past life and this was her way of getting revenge. You’re pretty sure you came up with at least 7 ways to end Park Jimin in the time he took to move his seat closer to you for ‘discussing details about the project.’ 

“So you’re gonna draw the diagram and write everything,” Jimin started as soon as he sat down. He dumped his bags to one corner taking out the necessities. “I will be supervising you as I’m clearly the better one here.”

Oh how much you craved to just lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck and choke him. How can a person be this insufferable? You could just shove a damn pen up his- 

“Alright class dismissed! Remember, the deadline is on Monday next week! Have a nice weekend.” Your professor announced, snapping you out of your thoughts.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, don’t screw up the project.” 

With that Jimin left you sitting there fuming at him. You let out a tired sigh and begin packing up to leave too, mind running wild. Why couldn’t Jimin just be a good person for once?

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

The weekend seemed to go by in a flash, just you working on the project with Jimin, who had surprisingly been quite helpful. Just when you thought he had a heart, he had said it was ‘so you don’t ruin my grades.’ Yeah nevermind he still sucks.

What you didn’t know was Jimin being nice - well as nice as a jerk can get anyway - was because he had a bet to win. One of the boys had proposed a bet after class when he caught Jimin bickering with you yet again. The bet was simple really, ask you out and date you for a while before leaving you. Jimin had refused at first but then everyone started taunting him. Who liked getting mocked? No one. It was plain simple anyways, no one would actually get hurt, wasn’t like you liked him. So he accepted.

It wasn’t easy to catch your attention, given the fact the both of you were mortal enemies, it was near impossible. He did everything in his power so you would look at him but all tactics had somehow managed to flop. There was only one other way of actually getting you to notice him and that was annoying you. However, that would ruin the whole point of the bet. 

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.” Jimin chanted as he poked you on the cheek incessantly. “Y/n pay attention to meeee.” He continued to whine. 

You felt your right eye twitch. Why was this dumbass bothering you?! There was no reason for him to even be five feet close to you. 

“What is it Jimin?” You turn to him, a sickly sweet smile on your face. “What is so important that you’re trying to talk to me?”

Jimin grinned, his eyes turning into crescents as he poked his cheek and gave a wink. “Hi~ How are you doing?”  

Is he for real right now? Did he think he was cute? You felt like throwing up. “Park what are you up to? You never act,” you started, eyes squinting in suspicion, “like whatever you’re doing right now.” 

Jimin gasped and placed a hand on his chest as if in pain before exclaiming, “What?! Me? Up to something? Impossible, I’m as innocent as an angel.” 

An angel? More like a devil. There was no way he was telling the truth. You’d known him long enough and not once in your life had he treated you with such...whatever that emotion was.

“Right. An angel. Okay.” You nodded.

“Do you not believe me? You can ask anyone on this campus and they would tell you how amazing I am.” He gestured his hands wildly. 

You scoffed at that, of course they would, he had slept with the majority and had the remaining wrapped around his tiny fingers. Plus, no one wanted to cross Park Jimin. He ruled the campus and everyone knew it. 

“Listen, just get to the point. I don’t have time for this nonsense.” You said, rolling your eyes and huffing. You had to get to your next class in about five minutes. There was no way you were going to be late because some idiot was bothering you. 

“Go on a date with me.”

You choked on air at that, did you hear that right? “E-excuse me what?!”

Jimin shrugged and crossed his hands, flexing slightly, “You heard me, go on a date with me this weekend. Heard there's a new ice cream shop here, we could go there.” 

“You want to take me on a date?” You look at him skeptically. Was this a test? Were you being filmed? “You’re joking.”

“No.” He fixed you with a stare. “I’m serious. One date, if you don’t enjoy that one date, I promise I won't bother you ever again.”

You stood there staring at him, alarm bells ringing in your head. This can’t be real. He’s lying. “You? Never bothering me ever again? That’s like saying you don’t sleep with everyone you meet.”

“I didn’t sleep with you.”

“That’s different!” You exclaimed, face flushing. “You hate me!”

Jimin tilted his head, his nose scrunching up. “I never said I hate you.” You open your mouth ready to retaliate. “You simply assumed I did, my actions don’t mean anything unless I say something.”

You stood speechless. There had to be one occasion where he had stated he hated you. One. You searched your brain. Sure enough there was no such memory. 

Not wanting to lose to Jimin nonetheless you stomped your feet and said, “Yeah well that makes no sense! Haven’t you heard ‘actions speak louder than words’? I thought you were smart” You tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed.

“But I’m standing here asking you out, I’m sure that counters all the things I’ve done to you.” He gives you a sly smirk, one you’re all too familiar with. “There’s really two options Y/n. One’s yes and the other is...yes. Which one do you choose?”

If you could you would have burned him to a crisp with your glare. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been gifted with laser vision like superman. It would have been quite a gift if you had. Imagine how peaceful life would be without Park Jimin judging your every move. Then again, you would miss him. Wait what?! You shook your head to clear your mind before looking at Jimin.

“No.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he spluttered. “W-what do you mean no?!”

“N-O. No. Don’t tell me you forgot basic english.”

Jimin clicked his tongue in annoyance, glaring at you. No one had ever turned him down. Whatever Park Jimin wants he gets. Right now he wants you. 

“Why not?” 

You gave him a look. “Well, it isn’t exactly a secret that you sleep with anything that has two legs. I don't even know why you’re asking me out, you never go on dates.”

“That's because you’re different.”

You scoff. “Listen Park, this isn’t some shitty rom com that you can charm your way to my heart, this is reality and I’m smart enough to realise how much of a jerk you actually are.”

Words seemed to die in Jimin’s throat. A jerk?! Sure, he annoyed you but he didn't think he deserved the title of a jerk. If it wasn’t for that stupid bet he wouldn’t even be asking you out. There was no reason why you couldn’t go on just one date with him. It wasn’t as if he was asking you to juggle swords and then swallow them. Besides, Jimin was a very attractive person and he knew it too. What’s so bad about going out with him? You should feel blessed he was even asking you out in the first place!

“Just say yes already woman. One date won’t kill you,” Jimin groaned out, throwing his head back in frustration.

“One date with you will.”

You stared at each other, no one making a single move. The silence stretched on for a moment before Jimin sighed loudly and ran a hand through this hair. 

“Come on!”

“No”

“...Please?” Jimin couldn’t believe he had to beg. He never begs! The things he does for a stupid bet.

Rolling your eyes at Jimin, you sigh, “Fine. We can go there this Saturday.”

“I begged, why won’t you just accep--” Jimin started before cutting himself off, “Oh you said yes. Um, well, yeah ok.” He mumbled, trying to fix his composure. “Yeah see you there or something. Bye,” and with that he walked away, leaving you both amused and confused… and also late for class! Damn Park Jimin.

-----------

You stood in front of the ice cream shop waiting for Jimin to show up. He was late, but then again what were you expecting anyway? You rolled your eyes as you looked around, “If he doesn’t show up in the next minute, I’m leaving.” you mumbled to yourself, checking your watch for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

“Y/n!” A voice shouted from behind causing you to turn around. Jimin ran towards you, panting slightly. “Sorry, I had to run all the way here.”

“Did you forget about the date or were you just being a jerk and were late intentionally?”

His face flushed pink, avoiding your gaze. “I might have forgotten but that wasn’t completely my fault, I just lost track of time.”

“Yeah whatever.” 

Jimin went to hold open the door for you but you beat him to it, opening it for yourself and slamming it in his face. He held back the urge to leave right there. A bet needed to be completed. He followed you inside trying to strike a conversation with you, trying to get just a crack of a smile.

“So Y/n, how’s your day?” Jimin asked, giving you a sweet smile that would have anyone swooning but it had no effect on you. 

“It would be good if the one who asked me out on a date came on time.” You didn’t look at him, instead you were staring intently at the menu. 

Jimin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he would regret, giving you a tight lipped smile. “I’m sure your date regrets being late.” ‘And asking you out in the first place’ Jimin thought the last part but didn’t say out loud.

“Doubt it.” You shrugged. 

Jimin knew what you were doing. You were specifically trying to provoke him, there was no way that he would ask you out on a date voluntarily. You were trying to gouge out any secrets he was hiding. His job, obviously, was to try and not let you find out those secrets. There was no way you were going to cooperate if he told you about the bet. 

The two of you knew each other since you were both babies, your mothers knew each other and would always coo at ‘how cute these two will look together.’ Unfortunately for them though, since you were both young the two of you had some sort of competition going on. Didn't matter if it was who was smarter, who was faster or who could fit the most grapes in their mouth, the both of you were always competing. 

As you both grew older the bickering turned into bullying on his part. In truth, you actually didn't know what started this long feud, all you remembered was one day when you were five an annoying boy yanked your hair so hard that a few strands had come out. Annoying boy turned out to be Park Jimin and the two of you haven’t stopped arguing since. 

“What flavour are you getting?” Jimin peered over your shoulder. He looked at you expectedly. “I’ve already chosen mine, so it’s just up to you and I’ll pay.” He holds his wallet out. 

“Vanilla.” You said plainly.

“What?!” 

You turn to face Jimin, frowning. “What’s wrong with vanilla?”

He makes a face. “Y/n, it’s so boring, like you no doubt.” The last part had slipped out accidentally and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. That was it. You were going to scream at him and he would lose the bet.

Instead, you ignored his comment fixing your gaze back onto the menu. “What do you think I should get then? I’ll give you the choice, assuming you don’t pick a disgusting flavour like mint chocolate chip, I’ll be fine.” 

Sure, it was a stupid decision giving Jimin the power to pick what you were going to eat, but what could go wrong? Worst case scenario, you didn't like the flavour and he would be forced to go get a new one, which would cost him more money. It’s a win win. 

“You’re giving me the freedom to pick what flavour you’re having?” Jimin asked, making sure he didn't misunderstand your statement. You simply nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Yep” you replied when he stared at you for a while longer, popping the p.

Jimin smirked. “I’ll get you the best flavour to ever exist then.”

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, “Oh?”

“Yeah, mint chocolate~” 

You stared at him in disgust, scowling as you said, “Dude I just said that flavour is disgusting. Made by the devil himself.”

Jimin tapped his chin, as if he had no clue about you were saying, “Did you really? Can’t recall anything like that. Hmm.”

“Park Jimin, I swear to god if you get me that flavour I will rip your eyeballs out and shove them up your ass.”

“So you wanna touch my ass now?” He grinned smugly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you spluttered, desperately searching for a comeback.

“Just- just get me whatever you’re having. Unless it’s chocolate mint, then get out of my sight right now.” 

“Don't worry, I hate the flavour as much as you do. So, two birthday cakes coming right up.” You try to find ‘birthday cake’ on the menu. 

“Dude, the thing looks like a unicorn just threw up on it.” 

Jimin shoots you a glare. “Don’t disrespect the superior flavour bestowed upon us by the ice cream Gods.” You gape at him open-mouthed. Ice cream Gods?! The guy was insane. You were on a date with a guy who was insane. Rest in pepperoni to you.

“You’re insane,” You shake your head. “I’ll be waiting over there. Be quick.” You point to a table in the corner. 

“Yes ma’am” Jimin saluted before going to order at the counter. You shake your head. You’d known Jimin of most of your life and he’d always been silly and annoying. 

Some reason you knew a lot about him. You blamed it on your parents making you spend too much time with each other when you were younger. Also you needed to know every little thing about your mortal enemy, wasn’t that what mortal enemies did? You had to be prepared for anything and keep track of them at all times!

“Got your ice cream.” Jimin placed the cup in front of you as you stared at it with distaste. You’d never really had ice cream often but when you did you always went for the plain vanilla. It was simple, no need for toppings or colourful flavours. You weren’t one to take risks. 

“What monstrosity did you get for me, Park?” 

“Oh stop being a baby, it’s just strawberry with some syrup on it.” Jimin answered while he rolled his eyes, lips tugged up into a small smile. Eyes twinkling with adoration as he looked at you. 

“I’m not eating it.”

“Oh yes you are. Here comes the airplane!” Jimin started, taking a spoonful of the ice cream and moving it towards your face as if talking to a child. 

“I’m not a kid. I’m not ha-” Jimin shoves the spoon inside your mouth when you open it to retaliate, his lips lifted into a sly smile. You snatch the spoon off him while glaring at him and start feeding yourself. “Don’t patronise me, you jerk.” You grumbled.

Jimin almost cooed out loud at your pout but he barely controlled himself. Since when were you this cute? He watched as you ate.

“Is it good?” 

“...yes” You reluctantly answered, still pouting.

Jimin smiled, leaning back on his chair as he pat himself on his shoulder. “Another job done well by yours truly.”

You rolled your eyes. Then you noticed that Jimin’s ice cream looked slightly different to yours. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for a bite. Would it?

“What’s on yours?” Jimin looked up, the tiny spoon still in his mouth. “What’s on your ice cream?”

“Just extra sprinkles and chocolate sauce, nothing too special.” He shrugged, continuing to devour his dessert. You stare at your cup and then at his. Something must have been possessing you because before you knew it you were leaning over and digging your spoon into his cup.

“Hey, you can’t just do that!”

“Pretty sure I just did.” You popped the spoon into your mouth, savouring the taste. “You know you really weren’t kidding when you said this was good. For once, you did something right, congrats dude.” 

Jimin would have made a snarky comment but the look of pure ecstasy on your face stopped him. Even though he knew you for most of his life, there were parts you kept hidden. He knew you didn’t get out much, constantly studying was the only thing you seemed to do. A nice feeling bubbled inside of him. It was nice to know you were enjoying yourself, made him feel happy for some reason. 

You giggled, shoving more of the sweet dessert into your mouth. Too busy to notice that Jimin was staring at you. When you did, you gave him a look of confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“You got a little something here.” He pointed to the left side of his face, holding in the urge to laugh at your cute expression. “No here, no.” He leaned over brushing his thumb over the corner of your lips. He stared at you, had your eyes always been so pretty? You felt yourself grow red at the close proximity between you two, not knowing what to do. Jimin leaned away, - why did your heart sink at that? - and licked his thumb. “Love this flavour.”

You avert your eyes quickly, blush getting brighter. You should not have found that as hot as you did. Get yourself together Y/N! Park Jimin, enemy number one! Nothing he does is mildly attractive. Nothing. He is the devil reincarnated!

Suddenly your phone started ringing, shattering whatever moment you two had going on. You picked up the device and checked the caller ID. Why was Jungkook calling now? You gave Jimin a sheepish look.

“Hello? I’m out. No. What? How did you- Alright alright.” Jimin watched as you spoke on your phone. 

You sighed in annoyance, hanging up after a while and giving Jimin a sheepish smile, “I need to go. Jungkook somehow made the microwave catch on fire.” 

Jimin raised his eyebrows in shock, looking at you as if you had grown two more heads. “What? How is that even possible?”

“Not a clue but I gotta dip. Thank you for inviting me here today. I still think you’re up to something though but whatever.” You spoke, getting up from your seat and grabbing your small messenger bag that you brought along. 

Jimin stood up alongside you, the both of you walking out of the shop and stopping on the sidewalk. “Yeah… Thank you for coming here with me.”

You two stood there staring at each other, not wanting to leave just yet. 

“Well then! I’ll see you on Monday. Bye Jimin,” You announced after a while, quickly pressing a small kiss on his cheek before dashing away. 

Jimin stood there in shock, hands raising to touch where you kissed him. Why was his heart racing so fast and why did he feel so warm inside? 

“Huh.. maybe you’re not so bad Y/L/N” Jimin spoke up to himself before he too started his walk back home, mind filled with thoughts of you.

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [99]

xv. the dying of the light 

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, angst, Cadogan is a piece of shit, anxiety, fighting, death, just some very sad, very heavy stuff.

Summary: bellamy is gone, gabriel is gone, and now madi has disappeared. desperation rises as you all race to save madi before she too is taken from you.

a/n: sorry, but my brain is struggling to process that this is number 99!!!!! i swear i just posted episode 1 like last week? how is this possible? the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The first thing you realize is that Miller saved all of your lives with his quick thinking. You turn and meet his gaze, grateful that he was fast enough to get the bomb behind one of the solid doors. “Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgment, before another soft rumble settles through the room, and the door the bomb is behind starts to groan softly. Which brings you to the second realization, that in saving all of your lives, Miller possibly doomed the others. Because the door he threw the bomb behind is the door that leads to the rest of the bunker. It’s the door that leads to the stone, in the rec room with Jackson, Murphy, Emori, and Raven. 

Miller immediately pries the door in question off the hinges with one of the spears from the arena, revealing a doorway of stacked concrete, confirming what you already knew. The others are trapped down below, and the rest of you are trapped up here. You have access to the outside, but no way to reach the stone or the rest of your friends. You turn to look at Clarke, seeking out her counsel, despite still being angry with her. She gives you a desperate look, before a look of realization passes over her face. “We can still get to Madi.”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial, three blue pills inside. You recognize them immediately as nano trackers, likely brought over by Sheidheda, the same ones Cadogan used to leave the bunker. Clarke unscrews the bottle and immediately dumps one out, preparing to swallow it, but Gaia closes the space between them and stops her hand from dropping the pill into her mouth. “Clarke, we have to think this through.”

“Gaia's right. Only the second pill’s for me.” Clarke looks over at you in surprise, not expecting you to take her side after what she did. But she killed Bellamy to protect Madi, and if something happens to Madi, then Bellamy and Gabriel died for nothing. All of it was for nothing. You refuse to let their deaths be in vain, which is why you hold your hand out for one of the pills, and Clarke quickly passes one to you. Behind you, Octavia speaks up, moving closer to you and Clarke. “We're gonna need an inside man.”

You both understand her statement for what it is: an offer to go with the two of you, so Clarke hands Octavia the third and final pill. All of you swallow them, one after the next, Octavia the last to do so, and you stand staring at each other, waiting to instantly disappear the way that Cadogan did. 

Except, you don’t.

The three of you stay firmly in place, looking at each other in absolute confusion. “Cadogan disappeared right away.”

“Why isn't this working?”

Hope answers you and Clarke both, shrugging a little as she does. “Maybe somebody has to be waiting in Bardo to pull you through.”

A strange look passes over Clarke’s face, half anger, half amusement, before settling into one of determination. She crosses the room in three strides, stopping at the door to the rest of the bunker, clamping her hands down on the first piece of stone she sees. She pulls, letting out a cry of effort as she does, the concrete moving nowhere. She tries again, her hands slipping off the stone, likely scratching her the way they did when the two of you tried to dig to this very same bunker, and you shake your head before moving towards her. “Clarke.”

She doesn’t turn around, determinedly yanking at the stones and sliding off them, making no progress, going nowhere, but still trying nonetheless. “We have to get to Madi! Cadogan could be digging into her brain right now.”

You reach out for her, grabbing her arm and spinning her towards you. “Clarke! We spent days trying to dig our way to the bunker before we nearly died in that collapse, and this is no different. You’re gonna dislodge a stone and get yourself killed if you keep this up, and you’re no use to Madi if you’re dead.”

She sets her jaw, and you think she’s about to start a fight with you before her eyes drop and her gaze softens. “Your shoulder.”

You peer down at your shoulder and the blood staining your shirt, the wound from Sheidheda still bleeding, the pain forgotten to you in the chaos of everything that’s happened since then. “It’s nothing.”

You try to shrug her off, stepping away from her, not wanting her comfort or her help, but she reaches out to grab your arm, her hand closing around one of the cuts on your forearm. She can feel the wetness on her hand as soon as she grabs you, and she immediately lets go of you and looks at you in alarm. “La lune!”

She grabs your hand and turns your arm over, eyes scanning the cuts on both of your forearms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I honestly can't feel it. Adrenaline and all that.”

“Come here.” She tries to pull you to the side, and you don’t budge at first, but she gives you one of those looks that lets you know this is not negotiable, because your own words apply to you in this moment. You’re no good to Madi dead, and bleeding to death because you’re mad at Clarke is not the way to go. So when she tugs you to the side a second time, you let her, and she motions for you to sit across from her as she tears strips of cloth from the bottom of her shirt. The tension between the two of you temporarily melts away as she ties makeshift bandages around your forearms and shoulder, your access to real bandages nonexistent. You sit quietly as she fixes you up the best she can, before she finally breaks the silence to whisper, “I’m sorry about Bellamy, I swear I am. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to, to protect Madi. You can hate me forever, la lune, I’ll understand.”

You sit in silence for a second, weighing her words, and you can tell from the anguish in her voice that she means it. But that doesn't erase all of your feelings instantly, as much as you wish it did. You wish you could erase the hurt and the grief and the anger, but you can’t. It’s still raw and open, weighing on you at every moment. “Clarke, you’re my shining star. You’re a part of me. I understand why you did what you did, and I understand why you feel like it was the only choice. But that doesn't change the fact that Bellamy is dead and you pulled the trigger. I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could, but I don't forgive you either, at least not yet. Hopefully one day I’ll forgive you and we can move past this, but right now, I'm too damn hurt and angry.”

She nods her head, looking up at you with tears in her eyes. “I understand. If it helps, I regret it. I don't think I’d do it again, especially if I knew that Madi was just gonna turn herself in despite everything.”

You say nothing for a long second, your voice a soft whisper, cracking with emotion when you say, “I just wish I could have said goodbye. I gave him back the ring, you know, and he died thinking I didn't love him, but I do. I love him with my whole heart, my entire being. He’s my soulmate, and he died thinking that I hate him.”

You feel your bottom lip quiver before tears start to spill down your face, and you see tears in Clarke’s eyes before she pulls you in for a hug, holding you as you cry for Bellamy. And in this moment, you allow yourself to forget what happened to him, focusing only on the fact that he’s gone. You allow your twin to comfort you, hold you close, softly humming Clair de lune in your ear until you start to calm down again. And even after the two of you break apart, you stay side by side, unable to leave each other’s side, even now, when everything between you is tense and weird.

Indra is the first to break the silence and tension hanging over the room. “We should discuss the plan. Clarke, la lune, and Octavia bring us over. We get Madi and kill their leader.”

Gaia jumps down from the perch she was on, walking towards her mother. “Killing Cadogan won't change anything.”

“He can't chase us if he's dead.”

She shakes her head at Indra trying to get her to understand. “You've seen faith, Mother. You kill the Commander, another takes her place. You kill the Fleimkepa, another takes his place. Faith doesn't just die, it gets carried forward. Cadogan's people are no different.”

Miller asks the question that you’re all beginning to wonder. “Then how does this end?”

“Bellamy asked that question, too.” You all look towards Octavia, the mood sobering even further at the mention of Bellamy. “One Last War, and then we transcend and we become the light.”

Across the room, Jordan breaks his silence. “It's a beautiful idea, but fighting is not how we get there. War is a failure of everything. Which is why it's a test, not a war.”

“Test, war, test, war. The disciples have been studying the Bardo texts for over 1,000 years. You really think you know better?”

Jordan turns to Hope, answering her question with complete confidence. “Yes. And it's not just that I read some old books, I felt it. That red sun toxin showed me something. I couldn't figure it out, but I knew it was important, and then I read the Bardo texts, and it hit me... the next step in human evolution.”

You can feel Clarke going more restless with each passing second, until she abruptly stands and snaps, “Nonsense.”

Everyone turns to face her after the outburst, but she avoids everyone’s eyes as she stalks up the ramp towards the exit. “All that matters now is saving Madi and killing Cadogan. There's no Last War or test. Bellamy's dead because he believed that crap, and I've heard enough!”

You look after her retreating figure, wondering if you should go after her. Everything between the two of you is weird, and your anger is telling you to stay, bristling at the casual way she mentioned Bellamy’s death. But your softer side, the part of you that’s connected to her, it’s telling you to go after her, comfort her, despite what she did. Gaia seems to sense your conflict, because she steps towards you with a smile and whispers, “I got it.”

You nod in thanks, relieved that you don’t have to decide, before sitting back down and beginning the excruciating process of waiting once more. You’re quickly realizing that there’s nothing you hate more than waiting: waiting to fight, waiting to escape, waiting to die. Because waiting is usually silent, and that silence easily morphs into your regrets, and fears, and worries. It’s when you think about everything you've done wrong and everything you haven't yet gotten the chance to do. There’s time to think of who you’ve killed and who you’ve lost, which opens up the door to the painful memories that usually stay locked deep in your brain, in that place you try to keep hidden from everyone, including yourself. 

Waiting is suffocating, and in the time you’ve spent on Earth, Sanctum, Skyring, and Bardo, you’ve already done too much of it. 

You stand, starting to pace around the rotunda, the way Bellamy used to pace when he first got back from space. The same habit he turned to when he had to wait. And as your feet move you around the room in continuous circles, you start to understand. It’s rhythmic, the way your feet carry you across the floor, boots thudding softly against the metal, and each time you walk past Hope, the thuds stutter, your footsteps softened by an uneven spot on the floor. 

As you pace around the room, you force your mind to stay on the safe topics. The ones that don't involve painful memories or the ghosts that seem to stalk you. Instead, you keep things light, reciting constellations and medicinal plants, anything to keep your mind occupied. A few times you slip up, your thoughts drifting to what Bellamy was thinking in his final moments, as he bled out on Sanctum alone. You start to worry about Madi and what she’s going through without you, cursing yourself for not getting to her sooner and stopping her from leaving. You think about Gabriel and his final words to you, what they meant... You shake your head, clearing the spiral of memories and grief, shifting back to your safe topics, ignoring the thoughts that are begging to pull you down.

You only pause your pacing once, when Clarke and Gaia come out of the decontamination room and take up a spot on the ramp, sitting across from each other cross legged, Gaia talking to your twin softly. You resume your pacing, glancing at them every few minutes, realizing that Gaia must be teaching Clarke to calm her mind the way she taught Madi to. 

But Clarke’s peace is short lived, and within minutes she’s standing, her voice rising as she glares down at Gaia. “How do you expect me to focus right now when my daughter is out there, probably being tortured right now?”

“You think I don't know that?” Gaia stands abruptly, and you pause your pacing to watch them. She gives Clarke an anguished look, her voice dropping slightly when she adds, “I love her too, Clarke.”

A look of sympathy passes over Clarke’s face before she reaches out and pulls the former Flamekeeper into a hug. “I know, I know, I'm sorry.”

You’re about to start pacing again, the conflict seemingly resolved, when you catch a glimpse of green around Clarke. She pulls away from Gaia, her hands starting to disappear, and she turns to look at you with a smile. “It's working.”

Clarke disappears in a haze of emerald, leaving you to turn and look at Octavia, “I’m next.”

Miller yells out to you, “La lune, catch!”

You turn towards him, catching the pistol he tosses your way, seconds before you too fade away from the bunker. All around you, the world is green, bright and hazy, until it fades into a darker hue. It takes a second for you to realize that you’re not in the Stone Room, but in the oxygen farm, surrounded by an army of disciples, all of them pointing weapons right at you and Clarke. You raise the pistol that Miller tossed to you, you and Clarke aiming back at the disciples, and Octavia appears a second later, instantly lifting her rifle.

A disciple near the font of the armed group looks towards you and loudly yells, “Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!”

Octavia drops her weapon first, lifting her hands in surrender, and you and Clarke exchange a look before you both follow suit. Despite not wanting to surrender to the disciples, you both know you have no choice, and if you choose to take a stand here, it will only result in the three of you ending up dead. So you both drop your weapons and lift your hands in the air, following the commands of the disciples as they close in on you. The three of you are restrained and led past the waiting army, through the oxygen farm and the halls of Bardo until you’re delivered to a cell.

They release all three of you in one room, and you stand there for a minute, stunned by what just happened. “Why did we show up in the oxygen farm?”

Clarke shakes her head, “I don't know. But they’re preparing for a war, which means they have Madi and she’s in trouble.”

She plops down onto the nearest bed in frustration, dropping her head into her hands before she starts to softly cry. Octavia sits down beside her, offering her comfort, the moment soon overshadowed by someone singing. And not just someone, Sheidheda. He sings the Grounder Anthem, “Take a Life With Me”, over and over on a loop, until there is no sadness left in your prison cell, only frustration. 

You take up pacing again as nothing you do drowns out the awful, annoying sound, which continues repeatedly, until you’re sure you’re about to lose your mind. You can sense Clarke growing tense too, her body starting to fidget more and more until she finally yells out, “Shut up!”

But Sheidheda doesn't shut up, he just keeps singing without a care in the world. Clarke looks at you with worry and frustration, her eyes wide, her nerves frazzled. “We did all that just to end up back here, locked up in a cell next to Sheidheda.”

“We'll get Madi back.” You don’t say anything beyond that, your anger at her now back in full force now that you’re back in Bardo, but you do let out a sigh, frustrated that your emotions are so all over the place. You wonder what Anders would say about you now, watching you pace the room like a caged animal, angry and frustrated and ready to destroy Bardo if you have to.

You’re pulled back to the present by Clarke sighing loudly, looking doubtful about your assurance of finding Madi, which Octavia notices. She puts a hand on Clarke’s knee, whose gaze shifts over to the younger Blake. “Think about it: someone brought us here. That means we have help on the inside, it's just a matter of time.”

Clarke nods, contemplating her words, realizing the truth to them, and she’s quiet for a moment before whispering, “Thank you.”

Something about her tone makes you pause, and you stop in front of her as Clarke’s gaze shifts between you and Octavia. “Both of you. Thank you for offering to come.”

Octavia answers first, “I told you I get it now, what she means to you. It's what Hope means to me.”

“It's what we meant to Bellamy.” Clarke and Octavia look towards you, the mood dampening the way it does when you all remember that Bellamy is gone, for real this time. You’re surprised you even said it, and you have to fight against the tears that are threatening to rise, glancing between the two women you call sister. “We were everything to him.”

Octavia whispers, “That's how I'll remember him.”

Clarke reaches out to grab your hand and you let her, before she reaches for Octavia’s hand too, the three of you sitting together as a small human chain, mourning the loss of Bellamy. And as the three of you mourn, tears streaming down your faces, the door to your cell opens. Clarke and Octavia stand beside you and turn to see Levitt hovering near the entrance, smiling at Octavia. She moves towards him, and as the pair hugs, you get a flash of disappointment. Part of you hoped that it would be Bellamy here to save you, despite seeing his body bleeding out on the palace floor in Sanctum. Something you remind yourself of as Clarke mutters, “Hate to interrupt, but we need to get to Madi. What’s the plan?”

Levitt and Octavia pull apart, and he looks between the three of you, growing anxious. “I don't know. Isn't this your guys' specialty? How would you do it?”

Octavia thinks for a second and then says, “Use the suits, go invisible.”

“No, that won't work. Too many disciples with helmets around.”

Clarke shrugs, “Then we come in hot, and we take them all out.”

You shake your head, instantly disagreeing. If the disciples are preparing for a war, then Clarke’s right. Madi is in danger now. You have no doubt that you, Clarke, and Octavia could come in and take the disciples out with ease, but how long will that give you? Five minutes? Ten? It’s loud and it’s messy, and it’ll put a target on your backs. You need a distraction, something to pull the disciples away from M-Cap, giving the four of you time to find Madi and get her to safety. You search your brain for a different plan, struggling to come up with anything, thanks to Sheidheda’s obnoxious singing. 

And that’s when it comes to you. 

You look between the three of them, smiling, pointing to the room next door. “Or we create a distraction.”

Realization passes over each of their faces, and you know you’re all on the same page. “Good idea.” 

Levitt heads to the door of your cell and reaches for a bag that he left behind, tossing each of you a gun before leading you from your room and to the next cell over. He quickly pulls the door scanner from the wall, attaching a few wires to a tablet from his bag and typing in a code. He removes the tablet and tucks it away before reattaching the scanner and pushing the button. The door to Sheidheda’s cell slides open, and you, Clarke, and Octavia go in weapons hot, aiming directly at the man in the room. He stops singing when he hears your entrance, turning slowly to look at the three of you glaring in anger, Levitt waiting just behind you. “Well, since no one's shooting, I suppose that means you need me.”

He laughs a little and stands to his feet, musing, “What would Madi think?”

Clarke lowers her gun and lunges at him, intending to hit him, but you reach out and grab her arm to stop her. “Clarke!”

Sheidheda laughs, looking you over, taking in your bandages and the blood that’s still on your face, a mix of Gabriel’s and your own. “I got the doctor good, didn't I? Tell me, did he make it?”

And this time, it’s your turn to lunge, dropping Clarke’s arm and reaching for the man, seeing only red, your anger raw with grief. But Octavia grabs you, pulling you back, yelling out, “That’s enough, all of you! We need to stop Cadogan.”

You take a breath, calming yourself, aware that you need the man in front of you to save your niece and stop Cadogan from winning. Which means, for now, you’ll play alongside him. But if he makes it out of here and you get the chance, you’ll kill him for what he did to Gabriel and Madi. 

Sheidheda shrugs at Octavia’s words, growling a little, “I tried, and for my troubles, they locked me up here.”

Clarke doesn't care, blowing past his complaint to snap, “Here's the deal. I'd love to kill you, but you're right, we need you. We set you loose, and you draw the disciples away from M-Cap.”

“I'm not some petty distraction. I'm the high king of Sanctum.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, Your Highness. Then we walk out of here and lock the door behind us.”

He sneers at you, giving you an annoyed smile. “Hmm, distraction it is.”

You motion towards the door with your gun. “Then let’s go.”

Levitt leads the way to M-Cap, the rest of you keeping your guns trained on Sheidheda, but you stop when you reach the last few hallways to your destination. You can hear people nearby, likely standing guard or prepping for the war, and you motion towards Sheidheda as you all duck out of sight. He smiles before he steps away, and you can hear the moment he catches sight of the disciples. “Attention, sheep. I'm here to kill your Shepherd.”

You can hear one of the guards yelling commands, followed immediately by the sounds of fighting. Gunshots ring out in the air, accented by screams of pain, but you all stay hidden in a nearby corridor until the sounds grow fainter and fainter, Sheidheda clearing the halls ahead of you. Once you hear no more fighting, you tentatively slip from your hiding spot and walk down the hall, rounding the corner to find blood splashed along the walls and dead bodies scattered everywhere. You shake your head at the violent scene in front of you, thinking that surely Sheidheda didn’t need to be so brutal. Still, he got the job done, because there’s no one in sight to stop your approach.

Unfortunately, there is also no sign of Sheidheda. “He's not here?”

Clarke turns to look back at Octavia. “We knew that was a possibility, we'll deal with Sheidheda later.”

Levitt looks around at the bodies littering the floor, carefully stepping around dark red puddles of blood, his voice horrified when he whispers, “I grew up with these people.”

“That's war, Levitt.” Octavia turns to glance at him, offering him no sympathy for the horror he’s experiencing. “It looks exciting in hologram mode, but this is the reality.”

Clarke shakes her head, grabbing a few grenades as she walks past the bodies, barely glancing back at the couple as she continues on her way. “Come on. Right now, all that matters is getting to Madi.”

You all follow her down the halls towards M-Cap, your guns raised, ready for a fight with each new hallway you turn down. But you find no one, this section of Bardo completely empty, everyone gone in pursuit of Sheidheda. “Looks like our diversion worked.”

As you reach the door to M-Cap, Clarke nods towards it. “Levitt, you go in first. They won't see you as a threat.”

He nods, and Octavia quickly pushes the button to the room, and as the door slides open, you all get into position and step inside behind Levitt. The first thing you notice is that someone is humming, the tune comforting and familiar. The second thing you notice is Madi, sprawled out in the M-Cap chair, someone’s arms around her. And when that someone looks up, you swear you’re dreaming. 

Because it looks like Bellamy.

“Bellamy?” You freeze in place, the gun in your hand clattering to the floor as you stare at him in shock. He looks up at all of you, his expression surprised, clearly not expecting to see you here. He’s out of the white robes and into a white top and bottom combo, the same thing that Gabriel used to wear, and you’re relieved to see no blood on his clothes. He looks a little tired, and his curly hair is unruly, flopped all over the place, but he looks fine. Healthy even, no sign that he was recently dead. 

Clarke seemingly breezes past the fact that Bellamy is alive and well, her gaze solely focused on Madi, and he releases his hold on her to allow Clarke the room to take over. He stands, looking at you closely, his expression blank for a moment, and you worry that he’s even more brainwashed than the last time you saw him. But then his expression morphs into one of relief, and he steps around the M-Cap chair to walk towards you. “La lune.”

His voice is warm and thick with affection and emotion, and you start to run towards him, tears welling up in your eyes as he jogs towards you. He meets you halfway across the room, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you once, before putting your feet firmly back on the ground, his arms holding you tight. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, and you can hear him crying as he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never betrayed you. I should’ve listened to you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pull away to look at him, tears running down his face and your own, and you whisper, “I love you. Oh my god, I love you, and I'm sorry I left you. I didn't want to, but-”

He cuts you off, “No, you were right to leave me. And you were right about Cadogan.”

It’s like the words remind him of something, and he turns to look at the others. “Levitt, something is wrong with Madi. Cadogan did something to her.”

You all turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

Levitt immediately crosses the room to grab the glasses that the disciples use for M-Cap, and for the first time since grabbing her, Clarke pulls away from Madi, realizing that Bellamy’s right, something is wrong with her. You miss the reunion between the Blake siblings as you rush over to your niece, though you can hear them quietly talking behind you. You look down at Madi in horror, catching onto what Bellamy meant. Madi’s eyes are open, but her expression and her eyes are blank, no sign of recognition in either of them. Her heartbeat is strong, but her body is limp, moving only when one of you moves her. 

Clarke looks at you with tears in her eyes, and you feel tears in your own, both of you starting to cry as Clarke turns her teary expression back to Madi. “Madi, look at me. Say something. Please say something.”

Madi remains frozen, and Clarke lets out a panicked yell, “Say something!”

But still, Madi doesn't move, and Clarke pulls her into her arms, holding her tight as she sobs, rocking her back and forth, “Oh, my baby. My baby. My baby.”

You start to cry harder, not wanting to hear or see Clarke’s heartbreak, not wanting to see Madi’s blank expression, but you can't look away. You don't look away when you feel Bellamy slide up beside you, slipping his hand into your own, you don't look away when you hear Octavia and Levitt talking quietly behind you. You keep your eyes on your little sun and your shining star, unable to do anything other than cry at the scene before you. 

Clarke lays Madi back down, before turning her teary face back to you, her eyes landing on Bellamy in the process.  You see surprise pass over her face, meaning she really didn't register his presence when you all stepped into the room. But her surprise turns to anger as she glares at him, “What happened? What did he do to her?”

Bellamy shakes his head, looking just as upset as the rest of you, tears streaming down his face too. “I don’t know. When I heard she was here, I came looking for her immediately. She was like this when I found her. Cadogan was already gone.”

“You said you’d keep her safe!”

Bellamy stutters a little, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried, Clarke, but I woke up in a hospital bed. I left as soon as I heard she was here, but it must have been hours after her arrival by that point.”

Clarke’s expression turns horrified as she takes in the weight of his words. He got to her as soon as he could to try to help her. But the reason it took him so long to reach her is because he was in a hospital bed. Put there by Clarke. You reach out for her, squeezing her shoulder to stop her train of thought. “Hey, hey, hey, this is not your fault. This is Cadogan’s fault.”

Bellamy whispers, “You couldn't have known.”

And though he doesn't outright say it, you know that his words are forgiveness. Bellamy offers his forgiveness to Clarke for shooting him, her anguish over Madi punishment enough. He offers her the olive branch, and it’s up to her to take it. Thankfully, she does, looking at Bellamy with genuine regret. “I shouldn't have shot you, Bellamy. I panicked, and didn't know what to do.”

“No, you were right to. I don't blame you for shooting me, it was part of a wake up call for me. La lune giving me back her ring, you shooting me, finding Madi like this, they all woke me up to the truth about Cadogan: he’s a monster. A psychopath obsessed with being worshipped, just like he was on Earth.”

And everything is simultaneously okay and not okay, because the confession is big, but none of you get the time to respond to it, because Octavia steps up beside Clarke, looking between all of you. “She can hear you. She knows you're here.”

Clarke nods and turns back towards Madi, trying to hide her tears as she smiles. “Hey, baby, I'm here. I'm right here.”

You lean down into Madi’s line of sight, doing the same to mask your hurt as you whisper, “Hey there, little sun. Ani’s here too.”

Clarke turns to face Levitt, who’s still standing off to the side. “Is it recoverable?”

“What? I-” The question catches him off guard, not sure if he should answer, but after a second, he solemnly shakes his head. “No. The areas of her brain responsible for voluntary movement have been destroyed. I'm sorry.”

The words make all of you start to cry harder, now faced with the reality that Cadogan has paralyzed Madi permanently in the pursuit of transcendence. It's enough to make you sick to your stomach. But that feeling only intensifies as Clarke glances off to the side, where her discarded pistol now lays, and after a moment of thought, she leans down to get it. You know exactly what she’s thinking because you know her better than she knows herself, and you shake your head, your voice soft and firm. “Clarke, no.”

She starts to cry harder, her hands shakily lifting the gun, determined to do what she thinks is right for Madi. But the sight breaks your heart, as Clarke can barely hold the gun steady, too overcome with emotion. Your twin that has bore it so the rest of you don't have to is breaking, and you know you need to be there for her. Which is why you drop Bellamy’s hand and reach out for the gun. “I’ll do it.”

She looks at you, expression heartbroken but hopeful, and you whisper, “I'm not letting you live with this.”

She nods a little, passing you the gun, which you take with now shaky hands. Clarke reaches out for Madi, putting a hand on either side of her face as she whispers, “I love you so much. Don't be scared, just listen to my voice, okay?”

And just like Bellamy was doing before all of you arrived, she starts to hum Clair de lune, ducking her head beside Madi’s so she can't see her tears. You lift the gun with a shaky hand, your own tears blurring your vision, aiming the pistol at her chest. But as you stare down at the blank expression of your little sun, you don't think you can do it, the burden too great for any of you to bear. You start to cry harder, a sob escaping from your chest, and Clarke looks over at you, nodding a little, letting you know that it’s okay, it’s time. 

But you can’t. You stare down at Madi’s face, reminded of the girl that couldn't speak English when you met her, who caught Clarke with a bear trap. The little girl you taught how to drive, how to fight. The girl who inspired an army to fight for Shallow Valley. You shake your head a little, unable to do it, your hand starting to lower again. But then Bellamy reaches out and closes his hand over your own. You look back at him, and he looks at you, tears falling down his face as he whispers, “Together.”

You nod, and the two of you turn to face Madi, lifting the gun to aim right over her heart. And as your finger lifts to the trigger, Bellamy’s finger poised over your own, ready to help you, you whisper, “I love you, little sun.”

But before the two of you can pull the trigger, Levitt suddenly calls out, “No, he got the code!”

You pause and you all turn towards him in shock, and he catches sight of the gun in your hand, suddenly apologetic. “Oh, God. Oh, I'm sorry.”

Octavia asks, “The test code? Are you sure?”

“Hologram mode.”

He enlarges the memory so you can all see, watching as Becca’s fingers press the symbols on the Anomaly Stone, the room glowing in white before the memory ends. Clarke shifts her gaze from the memory down to Madi, her heartbreak giving way to hard anger. “He got what he needed and left her here?”

The words hit all of you right in the chest. This man that is so determined to transcend, to prove that humans are worthy, paralyzed a child to do it, and then left her alone. Bellamy was right when he called Cadogan a monster, and you can feel Wanlida smiling as she steps into view. “We have to stop him.”

Octavia starts, “If one man represents the entire human race-”

Bellamy finishes, “It can't be him.”

Levitt nods, looking between all of you. “We can still stop him, but we have to go now.”

Everyone seems to silently agree, and you and Clarke turn back to Madi. Clarke puts her hand on Madi’s cheek, and you reach out to squeeze Madi’s hand. Clarke whispers, “I'll come back. I'll be back after we stop the test, and I promise I will not let him win.”

She presses a kiss to Madi’s forehead, and leans back so you can add, “We’re going to stop him, Madi, and we’re going to fix this. I promise. Bill Cadogan thinks he’s unstoppable, but he’s never met Wanheda and Wanlida.”

-

next chapter

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads

Part 1/???? 3K words, no warnings :)

 So I’ve created an audience on Tumblr for the Number Lads, and I’ve happened to got 3K words here for them. So! Here are the origins of the Number Lads! More to follow.... eventually....

For future reference:

Sevenset = ARC-7777 = ARCBoiiiii

Do-si-do = CT-2222 = Double Trouble

Trees = CT-3333 = Green Bean

Loops = CT-8888 = Loopy

Sixes = CC-6666

Double Trouble: i meant it as a joke sevens

ARCBoiiiiii: i didn’t

ARCBoiiiii: what you think you can drop that information on me and i wont use it??? how long have you known me

Double Trouble: okay okay but if you die i’m not mourning you

Loopy: ouch

Green Bean: how do you have this much time to comm us when you’re at ARC training, sevenset

Green Bean: who changed my name

Double Trouble: :3c

ARCBoiiiii: what you don’t like it? thought it suited you, trees

Green Bean: why did i let you guys talk me into this club…

ARCBoiiiii: we’re awfully convincing that way

Double Trouble: you felt compelled

Double Trouble: it’s the numbers gang bond

Green Bean: it was not that

ARCBoiiiii: was it loops space buns

ARCBoiiiii: i bet it was loops space buns

Loopy: what

Double Trouble: they are adorable

Loopy: oh kriff you, don’t you have arc stuff to do, sevenset?

ARCBoiiiii: ehhhhh my next training block doesnt start for another 4min, so....

Double Trouble: well i gotta run, we’re going hyperspace in a min or so--remember the meeting next week!!! be there or be square!

ARCBoiiiii: we dont have any perfect squares yet ;-;

Green Bean: Yeah, yeah, i’ll see you weirdos eventually

Loopy: stay alive out there

Double Trouble: especially the guy who wants to recruit Commander Death over there

ARCBoiiiii: I’ll be fiiinnnne whats the worst that can happen

Green Bean: i mean. his name. is DEATH?

ARCBoiiiii: ..... a fair point.... i guess you’ll just have to wait until the next numbers gang meeting huh :)

Loopy: maker help you

----

Sevenset was uncharacteristically quiet that day during second meal, but only because his mouth was continually occupied with food, not talking. He was on the clock today.

“Hey, Sevenset, are you inhaling those rations, or…?”

He looked over at Buster next to him, quickly swallowing his food. “I just got something I wanna do,” he said, taking a glug of water.

“Something so important you’re taking one of the few unscheduled breaks we have to do it? Okay then.”

Sevenset cleaned the rest of his tray, flashing a grin at Buster as he stood up. “Don’t wanna be late. Got a meeting with death.” He really couldn’t resist the pun. Honestly.

Buster’s eyebrow raised skeptically. His friend next to him, Sketch, asked, “Is this about some new way you’ve managed to piss off the trainers? Because yeah, I’m sure Alpha could arrange a meeting with death for you if you… I dunno, painted pink hearts on his armor.”

“Amazing idea,” Sevenset admitted, his brain automatically figuring out where the pink paint was (he’d have to make it), where Alpha-17’s armor lived (not sure on that one), and how possible it would be to sneak in and out to accomplish the task (a challenge). “However, no, not this time. See you guys later!” He deposited his tray and utensils in the proper area to be cleaned, then jogged out of the mess hall.

Kamino’s winding halls and levels really weren’t efficient--but compared to Coruscant… he couldn’t really argue. A healthy stretch of time in the Guard had given him plenty of tools to make his way around inefficient, crowded, twisty places like this. It didn’t take long before he reached where he was going. Aside from the resident Rancor Battalion, there were often troopers on Kamino from various groups throughout the GAR. They stayed out of the way of those training in separate wings of Tipoca City, and right now, Sevenset was very keen to speak to a visiting commander.

He slipped into a lift with two other troopers--visiting, by the looks of their battered armor. Luckily, they were too engrossed in their own conversation to really notice him, despite his rather colorful tattoos that usually made him stick out. But it was for the best this time. He got off at the level above and started down the hall, reading door labels as he went, searching….

Ah. Here. He pushed a button to open the door, but it was locked. Not entirely surprising, but… now what? If his internal clock was still fairly accurate, he had about ten minutes before he needed to be back for the next training block.

“It’s locked for a reason.”

He whirled, his body almost automatically snapping to attention at the low voice behind him.

Commander Sixes (AKA Commander Death, remember) surveyed him with a disturbing lack of expression. He was tall, for a clone. Probably closer in height to some of the Alphas than to Sevenset. His black armor stuck out like green plants on Coruscant in the brightly lit halls of Tipoca City, making him somehow look even bigger. Even more unnerving, he still had his helmet on, the visor lit with a dull green light, and fixed pointedly on him. Sevenset hated not being able to read people...

Sevenset hadn’t planned for this. Come to think of it, a lot of the “plan” he’d concocted relied on a few assumptions, and all of them seemed to be fading. One of them had been that he would have no problem talking to a CO--he never had before. “Sir, hi--hello--I was uhm…” He managed to clamp down on the first coherent thought to float through his head, so instead of blurting, “You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be,” he stumbled upon, “It’s a nice room you’ve got. From the outside,” and immediately wanted to bash his head in on the wall.

The commander’s helmet never moved, just kept staring him down. “Get out of my way,” he finally growled, taking a step forward.

Against all better judgement, Sevenset stood his ground, although he squished himself a bit closer against the door. “Yessir, of course, just--one thing, really quick thing, I promise.” When the commander didn’t kill him or rip his arms off or something, he went on, finally finding his words were cooperating with him. “So, you’re CC-6666, naturally. I happen to be CT-7777--Sevenset, I’m Sevenset. There’s a group of us, see, sir--with the repeating numbers, and we have little meetings--”

“No.”

“--is what I thought you’d say, but just--” he paused, fumbling a bit to pull a piece of flimsi out of his pocket. “There’s the frequency, there’s the date of the next meeting,” he said, holding out the flimsi scrap. “I’m sure the other boys would love it if you dropped by.” The end of his final sentence shriveled into an undignified squawk when Commander Sixes reached out, grabbed his collar, and shoved him bodily out of the way of the door.

“Get back to training before I have some of my boys drag you there,” he said, entering the door’s access code.

“I’ve got six minutes--”

The door slid shut in his face. Well. He was still alive. So… that counted as a success. Perhaps not a resounding success, but a success. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, still clutching the scrap of flimsi in his hand, wondering if he should stick it in the door so the commander would find it later. However, he had no trouble believing the commander’s threat that his men literally would drag him back to the ARCs if he told them to, so it was probably best not to linger.

Sevenset jumped to attention for the second time that day when the door slid open again. He just stood there, dumb, as Commander Sixes stepped out, plucked the scrap of flimsi from his fingers, then returned to his room with about as much ceremony as befitted dumping pebbles out of a boot.

Oh, yeah. Definitely a success.

---

The first thing Sixes did once back in the privacy of his albeit temporary rooms was remove the top half of his armor, only leaving the gauntlet with his wrist comm. Turning his attention to said wrist comm, he entered Colt’s number. There was a short wait before the other commander answered it.

“Everything alright over there, Sixes, sir?”

“It’s about one of the ARC candidates.”

There was a pause. Understandable. The ARCs weren’t supposed to be in this wing of Tipoca City. “Which one?” His tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Calls himself Sevenset.”

He heard inaudible muttering on the other end. “What’d he do this time?” Sixes had suspected as much.

“Quite a pair he’s got on him, hasn’t he?”

Colt laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. Hopefully, he’s worth the trouble.”

Sixes looked over the scrap of flimsi in his other hand. “Yeah… I think he might be.”

~+~

Leaning back in his pilot’s chair, Do-si-do watched the little light on the ship’s holoprojector, waiting for the others to join the meeting. He always took the calls in his ship. It was more private than his bunk most of the time, and frankly, the audio quality was so much better than on the hand-held devices.

Trees was the first to join, punctual as usual.

“Hey, Trees,” he smiled.

“Have you heard from Sevenset yet?” he asked.

Do-si-do shook his head, combing strands of his bleached curls out of his face. “Nah. Figure he’s been too busy. Graduation was supposed to be a couple days ago, right?”

“Three, yes.”

Loops’ holographic miniature appeared beside Trees’. He looked exhausted, but awake. His long hair was down from his signature twin buns, and he leaned his chin on his hand, fingers resting just over the infinity symbol tattoo on his cheek.

“Loops,” Trees greeted him.

“Mph.”

“What happened to you?” Do-si-do asked.

“Supply shipment,” Loops sighed. “General Koon’s having skeleton crews tonight so we can get some sleep.” After a stifled yawn, he asked, “Is Sevenset dead yet?”

Do-si-do smiled. “Trees asked the same thing, and I have no idea.”

As if on cue, a third hologram popped up on the ship’s control panel. Sevenset beamed at them, his new ARC pauldrons proudly on display. “Guess who’s not dead, fellas!”

“Hey hey! Look at you, ARC-7777,” Do-si-do grinned, leaning forward in his seat. “How’s it feel?”

“I really love the kama, gotta be honest.” He was only visible from the waist up, but they could see him sway his hips back and forth, clearly enjoying his new gear.

“Show us the paint,” Loops demanded, as firmly has he could demand it in his half-asleep state.

Sevenset obliged, setting down his holoprojector--his personal one, now he had graduated--and stepping back so more of his body was visible. The paint job was fairly similar to his previous armor--the sharp edges, the circle on his right shoulder bell holding four stylized sevens--but the new armor on his chest and arms had forced some alterations. They could see just about all of the kama now, the bright red sevens standing out against the dark grey fabric. Predictable, maybe, but still eye-catching. That was Sevenset’s main goal, if it weren’t already clear from the tapestry of tattoos on his bald head that ran down his neck under his blacks, and the several glinting piercings in his ears and nose.

“It’s definitely you.” Trees, bluntly.

“They let you keep the red paint, huh?” Do-si-do said. Sevenset had previously been assigned to the Coruscant Guard. After proving a bit more trouble than the Guard could take, and catching some CO’s eye, he’d been shipped back to Kamino a couple months ago to join Rancor.

“Hey, if Commander Colt can have it, I guess I can too. No one stopped me.”

Without warning, a fourth hologram appeared beside the others in front of Do-si-do’s eyes. A trooper--a big trooper, even in miniature--and in dark armor, helmet included. His brows scrunched together as he studied the person, failing to recognize them.

Sevenset did. “Commander!”

“I see Colt decided against tossing you overboard.”

Oh, no karking way. “Commander Sixes?” Do-si-do blurted.

At the same time, Loops made some unintelligible noise and suddenly disconnected, and Trees froze like a lizard when a hawk flies overhead, his eyes gone wide, one arm half-way to a salute. Frankly, Do-si-do could understand their reactions. Commander Sixes--like many of the CCs--was legendary. His wing of Star Fighters had fought through some of the toughest space battles so far, and always came out of it. As a pilot himself, Do-si-do had heard story after story about their skills. The fighter wing and the commander now wore the nickname Death, thanks to their brutal but effective tactics.

There was a brief and painfully quiet pause before the commander said, “Pride of the GAR, this lot.”

“Eh, they’ll get over it,” Sevenset shrugged, his hologram appearing to zoom in as he came closer again. “Right, Trees?” he added with a grin. Their friend was still in shock, it looked like. “Might have to tell him to relax, sir.”

The commander’s helmet turned towards Trees. “At ease. Take a breath before you pass out.”

Trees blinked, lowering his arm. “Yessir,” he said quietly, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll try to get Loops back,” Sevenset said, a datapad appearing in his hands. Damn, ARCs really did get all the good stuff. Do-si-do still had to share a datapad with his squad of pilots.

“Shouldn’t there be more?” Commander Sixes asked.

“Of us? Yeah,” Do-si-do answered. “I guess there should be nine of us, in theory.”

“Nine or ten,” Trees said, his tone still a bit clipped.

“Ten or eleven, actually,” Sevenset corrected, still looking at his datapad. “We don’t know if a CT designation can be all zeroes. Might have been taken out of the system, who knows.”

“It’s hard when we don’t have access to the full GAR database,” Do-si-do went on. “We have to rely on hearsay and brothers from other battalions. Sevenset and I met by chance on Coruscant.” Loops’ hologram reappeared. He looked a bit more awake now, still visibly on edge from the commander’s arrival, and with a glower on his face. “Loopy! Welcome back.”

“I hate you.”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t know he was coming either,” he defended himself. “Blame Sevenset.”

“I’m blaming both of you,” Loops said. “You told Sevenset about him, and Sevenset was stupid enough to go through with it.”

Sevenset, his attention off his datapad and back on the meeting, put a hand over his heart. “Stupid enough?” he repeated, doing his best to sound utterly wounded. “I think you mean ballsy enough.”

“He meant stupid enough,” the commander replied immediately and without emotion. “And I agree.”

Do-si-do snorted a laugh at the look of utter indignation on Sevenset��s face. Even Trees relaxed a bit more. “Okay, I can get used to having a CC around,” he grinned.

“Finally, someone with the authority to tell him off,” Loops said, expressing Do-si-do’s feelings exactly.

The recipient of their mocking pouted at them, folding his arms as best he could with his new armor. “Now I just feel unloved.”

“Why do I get the feeling Commander Fox was only too happy to get you qualified for ARC training?” the commander asked, his tone remaining impassive.

“For your information,” Sevenset said, then stopped, realizing, as they all had, that the commander had known where Sevenset had previously served. No one had told him this information. “How did you know I was in the Guard?”

They all turned to the commander. “I’m a commander. I can look anyone up. I looked you all up.”

Do-si-do leaned even farther forward in his seat, a huge smile on his face. “You have access to the full database?”

“You can find the others!” Sevenset completed, a similar smile on his face as well.

There was a pause. Do-si-do was starting to think Commander Sixes just liked the drama they created. In fact, judging by how he had yet to show his face and was wearing all black armor, it seemed Commander Death was fond of the dramatic in a few ways. “In theory, sure.”

“Yes! Oh, fantastic,” Sevenset went on, rubbing his hands together. “You can tell us where they’re stationed--”

“If they’re still alive,” Trees added in. He had a point.

“--and then we can find them!”

The commander’s helmet tilted, his expression hidden. “I’m guessing Fox declined membership,” he said.

Do-si-do snorted a gain, and Trees and Loops both smiled. They all remembered Sevenset’s story of trying to recruit Commander Fox to be number ten for their little group.

“If by ‘declined membership’ you mean, ‘shipped me out to Kamino for someone else to deal with,’ then yes,” Sevenset answered. “He declined.”

“Maybe you can ask him,” Loops said.

“Hey, yeah--”

“No.” The commander’s tone didn’t leave much room for argument, but that had never stopped Sevenset a day in his life, and Do-si-do was more than content to sit back and enjoy the show.

“But you’re his big brother, right? You can drag him into things--”

“I’m not a damn recruiter, ARC, now stand down.”

The effect was instantaneous. They all recognized a CO’s “talk back and you’ll be cleaning ‘freshers for the next month” voice. Combined with Commander Sixes’ already awe-inspiring reputation, his order shut them all up. Trees once again straightened to attention, and this time they all joined him, even Sevenset.

“Understood, sir,” he replied. Do-si-do could see the new training in him now. Sevenset wouldn’t be an ARC if he didn’t know when to drop the comic act, but the speed and discipline with which he’d done so just now was different.

The commander waited a second or two, then he nodded once. “At ease.”

They relaxed, mostly. It was hard to ignore the mood shift that had taken place. As cool as it was having a commander in the club… there were some obvious issues that needed addressing if this was going to remain a “just for fun” place.

Do-si-do found himself as the one breaking the uneasy silence. “But… you can help us find where the others are stationed, right, sir?”

The commander’s helmet dipped. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you do that… now?” Sevenset ventured.

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side, and it looked like he sighed. “Fine.” The others perked up. “But, I can only find their assignments, not their current locations.”

“We can work with that,” Do-si-do agreed, and the others nodded along. “Who’s writing this down?”

“I can!” Sevenset volunteered.

Trees reminded him, “Your handwriting is entirely illegible. Even to you.”

“Yes, but now I have a datapad. I can type all my notes.”

“I’m just going to start talking if you boys don’t figure it out,” the commander warned.

“Okay, okay, fine, Trees can copy it.”

Trees’ organization skills would always beat out Sevenset’s anyway. Maybe ARC training had fixed that, though. Trees shifted around, grabbing what he needed, then looked up and nodded when he was ready.

The commander’s helmet tipped down to look at something--presumably a datapad--as he spoke. “CT-4444 is with the Marines under Bacara. Probably has limited contact availability depending on the mission. Infrequent leave.” Do-si-do’s eyebrows raised, and he glanced at Sevenset and Loops. They hadn’t been expecting a tactical rundown of each person. But… they wouldn’t complain. “CT-27-5555 is the only ‘fives’ trooper in the GAR. He’s one of Rex’s freaks, so good luck getting your hands on him.”

“That’s the five-oh-first, right?” Loops asked. “Torrent, or something?”

“Yeah. Rex’s freaks. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Do-si-do smirked. He probably would. “And CT-9999 is with Ghost Company in the two-twelfth. Pretty decent chance he and number five have run missions together. Or will in the future, anyway.”

“Is there a CT-0000?” Loops wanted to know.

“What about eleven-eleven?” Sevenset added.

The commander glanced up at them, then back to his materials. “Yeah, the one-eighteenth has a CT-0000. Didn’t find an eleven-eleven, though.”

Do-si-do frowned. “Not even a casualty report?”

“No.”

“But… he could still be on Kamino, right?” Trees said. “Cadets don’t show up in the main database until they graduate and deploy.”

The commander nodded. “He could be a cadet.”

“I could look,” Sevenset offered. “I mean. I live here now, so I should be able to find out if a CT-1111 exists. It’ll just take a bit longer.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Do-si-do nodded. “In the meantime,” he continued, leaning forward, “who’re we going after first?”

Ta-daaa!! @blsmjoon @nintendolover13-ts4 (I couldn’t tag your side blog sorry) @alamogirl80 (idk why I can’t tag you either ;-;) @23-bears @theultimatesandwich

[dog-day-morning]

The word of God tells us we shall suffer for the cause of Christ, he who seeks a greater reward must attain a greater faith. Unto whom much is given that much more is required. You wanna eat that whole caramel cake, you crave that sweet tea, you pursue that woman in a nightclub hoping to get her in a compromised position, face down tail up because face it, we're not willing to bow down to the will of God, but we’re so happy, and ready to give in to that round mound of doo doo brown. The 3 Hebrew boys Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego went into the fiery furnace defying Nebuchadnezzar's declaration to worship him. These men had the inspiration, strength, and courage to say, even if He doesn't deliver us, we know that He can. That kind of faith is called perfected faith. We can be lazy because we refuse to work with what God gave us before the day of calamity comes to devour us. Tribulation is kicking into high gear, and many of God’s people are none the wiser. There are people who were working 3 jobs before, and after this pandemic became a global concern who know what is on the horizon. You don't need an Issachar spirit to discern the times; read the Bible. He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘A shower is coming.’ And so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat,’ and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? The gov't has pulled back on unemployment benefits forcing many to find a job. The 2 righteous servants in the parable of the 3 servants increased the wealth of their employer who trusted 3 men with different amounts of talents [money], and the 1 who didn't work diligently for his master inherited weeping, and gnashing of teeth. God invested in us, and He expected a greater return from this major investment. Jesus was the greatest financial venture ever made. The Father placed His faith in His Son who in turn gave Him many more sons that walk amongst us waiting for the Day of Judgment. This investment which supersedes all, but are intertwined will never decrease, and forever increase. The 144,000 isn't a spiritually inspired interpretation based on mine, and Mima getting the Holy Ghost or having an encounter with the Holy Spirit to speak in tongues. Sit down grandma, your Depends are leaking brown stuff that reeks of formaldehyde, and raw chitlins. God is looking for a righteous Nation to worship Him not themselves. These men, and boys who represent the 12 tribes of Israel have never been defiled by women, and hopefully not by men either. You lucky mother You can take the word literally or as a misinterpretation. Those who don't believe in the written word who believe that God's word isn't infallible aren't all to blame for this heresy. Those who originally interpreted the King James Bible added to, and took from are suffering for a misleading interpretation. The prophetic which God didn't let man corrupt altogether has pretty much played out verbatim. We may be dying to a world that is trying to kill our faith that God has no intention of doing until He finds His true worshippers, and He’ll never destroy one's faith in Him. Winter is coming and you and I must be prepared. We must live like today is our last without being caught up in fear. I'm suffering from a form of laziness called jackass. God shall supply all your needs, but faith without works is dead. The ant has the intuition to work throughout the Summer knowing that Winter is coming. A lot of these drones won't live to see the finished product. Ant mounds look like the Pyramids of Giza that secure the Queen, but where is the King? They serve the one who gives life that sustains the colony, she is their goddess, but what happens if the Queen dies? There's more than one Queen serving the colony who can breed an entire colony independent of one other. fulfilling their role while working together in unison with the others who all serve a greater purpose. This

is a major element that drives the Kingdome of heaven. Christ is just like His Father In the Kingdome that includes the Holy Spirit which they will pour upon all flesh again soon. There are no cowards or sinners in the Kingdome. The angels are not as drones, they are blessed warriors.

Revelation 21:8

8 But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.

1 Corinthians 6:8-10

8 Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren.

9 Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind,

10 Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.

Alkebulan we need to wake up and get right. Black American's of the tribes of Judah, Gad, Reuben, and Issachar you need to aim at my forehead, and scatter my scatter brained grey matter all over the pavement. When Joe Biden told a radio podcaster if you don't vote for me you're not Black, he must be color blind. This vaccine that suspiciously looks like the Mark of Whodunnit. They can plant a microchip in your arm that can track your every move, financial transaction, and possibly your dreams while you sleep. Some Walmart stores are refusing to take cash when you check out; they only take debit, and credit cards. These are signs that we’re living in the End Times. The Last Days. I'm looking at this as a sign to get the hell outta this city, and decompose. What in God's name am I afraid of? Jesus took a beat down like a man on a mission.. You're not weak or simping if you gave your life for a people you fed, healed, gave sight to, preached to, taught them a new way to live, pray, love, told them about a Kingdome greater than Jerusalem, and you didn't kill anybody in the process knowing what they were going to do to your physical body in an almost retarded like bid to destroy their salvation. I've done none of that; my bad. Stop looking for men, especially zaddy to deliver us. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Some of us foolheartedly called Bill Clinton the first Black president when he's not, never can, or will be to me in any sense, Barack wasn't either. Thomas Jefferson, the third elected president, who served two terms between 1801 and 1809 was described as the “son of a half-breed Indian squaw (Black) and a Virginia mulatto father (Black).” Abraham Lincoln, the nation’s 16th president, served between 1861, and 1865. Lincoln had very dark skin, and coarse hair and his mother allegedly came from an Ethiopian tribe. His heritage fueled so much controversy that Lincoln was nicknamed “Abraham Africanus the First” by his presidential opponents and cartoons were drawn depicting him as a Negro. Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Dwight David Eisenhower, and the scourge of the South Andrew Jackson were all n**gahs. I’ll see you come Hanukkah you self-hating black, Uncle Ruckus’s. I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, why should I be overjoyed about the genocide, and enslavement of God's people? Christmas is what it is. Hopefully you will celebrate this holiday season together fulfilling God's prophetic word. I can't unless you kill me. The Christmas holiday is as pagan as Joel Osteen is at scamming. David Duke, you might wanna go to ancestry.com, and take a DNA test. You might be 30% Swahili. By the looks of those big, gorilla nostrals you had before that rhinoplasty. You, and Bull Connor may be related to Idi Amin. Your biggest shame is your greatest blessing. Personally you can kiss the skid marks in the middle of my skid marks after I take a fresh dump. Conservative, political pundits, and wannabes whose names I won't mention, but one in particular who looks like he smoked 23 blunts in 15min. with no filter. Please keep him in California, and let him drown with his zaddy, and pancaked tail, bowed hipped women. Use your lips as a floatation device dude. These people are ashamed of the God who has blessed many, and plenty. These people suffer, hopefully not always, from the white savior or white zaddy complex. The truth isn't in any of them, that's why they're so adept at lying when making bold-faced statements before the public that opposes their previous opinion like people don’t have YouTube or google. I’ll Bing a factoid or Yahoo that mother to get the truth I may even pay for it, gimme a dollar. My inability to walk amongst men as a man has stagnated my propensity to live That's BS, my Apostle said something this past Sunday that's stuck on my forehead. YOU'RE LAZY!!! I am what I am, a pain in the rear end. This has gone on way too long. Sometimes

I feel as though God wants me to kill myself because the PO PO won’t. I would feel better if my natural family would stab me in the neck, not my back, with a piece of diseased, pork, spare rib from a boar hog, and let me die from a rare form of trichinosis. The people have spoken while I’m playing Jay, and Silent Bob. Father, get me outta here. Elohim, 9/16/2021

[hockeylvr59]

Positive Part 2 || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: I’ve had a good portion of this draft sitting around for months but I absolutely hated it. Finally was able to rework it into something I like a little bit better so hopefully, you all enjoy it as well. Before you ask I have no idea where this could go from here so if you have any thoughts, send them my way. 

Warnings: cursing, more angst

Word Count: 1,692

~~~~~~~

Pregnant. You were really pregnant. 

The weight of that word crushed down on you and a fresh set of sobs overtook your body. This couldn’t be real...except it was. While you were normally a very level headed person, it was like your brain had shut down entirely and all you could do was sob into Kristen’s shoulder as she pulled you into her arms. You were so lost that you completely missed what had happened next. 

Jimmy Hayes walked through the door. He spotted his wife holding a sobbing woman. He stepped closer out of concern and his eyes fell to the pregnancy tests. When he looked back at his wife she was mouthing two words to him ‘call Kevin’. It was only then that he realized who the crying woman was and the mess that he had just walked into and he nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he headed to the backyard. All it had taken was the utterance of your name and the statement that Kevin needed to come home for an agreement to be made. It didn’t matter that Kevin was halfway across the country. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to play a game that night. None of that mattered because you needed him to come home. 

As you attempted to pull yourself together, thanking Kristen but stating that you needed to be alone for a little while, you had no idea that Kevin had called his coach about a family emergency before booking a flight to Boston. As you stumbled into your apartment knowing that nothing would ever be the same again, you had no idea that Kevin was on his way to you, worried about what possibly could have happened to cause his brother to call him in a panic. As you climbed into the shower because your efforts of falling asleep to wake and find that this was all a dream had failed, you had no idea that Kevin was pacing back and forth in the living room of his brother’s house becoming frustrated by the lack of information he was being given. And as you threw on an old rangers sweatshirt that had once belonged to Kevin, you had no idea that the man himself was standing outside your door. 

And then he knocked. 

The sound startled you and you sighed wondering who the hell would be at your door this late. Throwing it open you had every intention of telling whoever it was to go the hell away because you weren’t in the mood. Instead, your eyes were met with the familiar frame of someone that you had considered one of your closest friends, someone who was supposed to be anywhere but here, someone who had turned your life upside down. Immediately, your eyes started to water because it seemed like all you could do lately was cry, but you quickly pushed the tears away, a neutral expression settling onto your face. As you battled your emotions, Kevin pushed his way inside your apartment, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Seeing him just waltz in sparked a wave of anger inside you and you practically growled at him.

“What the hell are you doing here Kevin?”

“Jim called me,” Kevin stated. “Told me I needed to come home because you needed me but wouldn’t tell me why. So care to enlighten me?” His tone held just a bit too much snark for your brain to handle and you cursed Kevin’s family for pulling him into this. 

“Well, I don’t need you so you can go back to your team.” You snapped. “I didn’t ask him to call you.” You added, now cursing yourself for turning to Kevin’s family in the first place. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Kevin threw back, his frustration now seeping through. You could feel his heavy gaze but were oblivious to the fact that his brain was quickly making note of the fact that you were wearing his sweatshirt, you appeared paler than usual, and you’d clearly been crying recently. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, you’ve obviously been crying, and my brother and sister-in-law could only give me pity eyes while refusing to tell me what the hell was going on other than that you’d been there earlier. So please fucking tell me what the hell is going on Y/N!” 

The sound of his raised voice caused a fresh set of tears to form in your eyes but you quickly shook your head, once again pushing them back. 

“Get out Kevin.” You stated, voice low but serious. “Just go.” 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” Kevin demanded, his body crowding forward to trap you against the back of the couch. Shoving at his chest you cursed him. 

“Kevin. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” You repeated, too afraid of getting hurt and too hormonal to open up to him. 

Kevin pulled away and for a moment you thought he was actually going to leave before he paused in the middle of your living room. 

“Fuck, fine. If you aren’t going to talk to me then you can just fucking listen.” His fingers raked through his hair as he paced. “You know...since you’re the one that decided the conversation was over before...it’s my turn. Fuck...I never should have let you leave. I just...I couldn’t believe it.” Kevin’s tone slowly started shifting from angry to vulnerable to resigned. 

“I thought you knew. The trip, the date, that night, my proposition....how could you not know that I love you.” He mumbled. “Everyone else knows that I love you. That I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I know I’m shitty at expressing it but I could have sworn that by Sunday night you knew and felt the same way. I’ve been kicking myself for not stopping you...for not making you see. You said it was a mistake because I don’t love you the way you love me. But Y/N I’m pretty sure I do. But if you want me to go I’ll go. I just...I can’t leave without making sure you knew. I love you. So this not working...that’s on you, not me. Because I was willing to do whatever it takes.”  

You couldn’t recall ever hearing Kevin say so much in one sitting, and you’d certainly never seen him so vulnerable. With your brain overwhelmed by the emotional dump he’d just done on you, you didn’t even realize he was gone until you heard the click of the door. 

Without even realizing it, you were racing out after him two words quickly falling from your lips and echoing down the hall. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

For a moment you worried that he hadn’t heard you. But then you watched him stop in the middle of the hallway. His fingers ran through his hair. Your eyes fell closed not wanting to see him walk out of your life completely even though you wouldn’t have blamed him in the slightest. They stayed closed until the weight of a warm hand fell to your hip and a feather-light touch brushed against your cheek. Peeking up, your eyes met his which were filled with nothing but warmth even as tears fell from them. 

“Oh thank god.” Kevin eventually murmured and the fact that those were the first words to come out of his mouth took you by complete surprise.  

“What?” You questioned, as you reached up to tangle your fingers in the fabric of Kevin’s shirt afraid that he would just disappear if you didn’t hold on tight.

“I said, oh thank god,” Kevin repeated, a prideful smirk growing on his face. “I’m not gonna be upset that you’re having my baby sweetheart. Jim had me fearing that something was actually wrong. This...this isn’t a problem...this is a blessing.” Kevin’s reaction had you feeling like you had whiplash because it was completely opposite to how you were feeling. Your body frozen in place, Kevin took two steps forward, ushering you back through your apartment door before turning and pinning you against it. His thumb brushed over your cheek again and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I’m gonna be a dad.” He murmured, the hand that had been on your face dropping down to caress your stomach lightly. Though you swore you couldn’t possibly have any more tears to cry, suddenly your cheeks were wet again. Why you were crying you couldn’t even express but it seemed to be the only way your brain could cope with all of this. 

“Shh…” Kevin whispered, attempting to soothe you. The rollercoaster of emotion from the past fifteen minutes seemed to finally get the best of you when you felt your stomach twist for the nth time in the past week or so. Throwing a hand over your mouth, you pushed Kevin aside and bolted for the toilet, kneeling over it while bile made its way out of your body. 

Almost immediately, a warm hand fell to your back, rubbing gently until you had finished puking before guiding you into a strong chest as you continued to cry. 

“Sweetheart...we’ll figure all of this out.” He insisted. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” When you still couldn’t stop crying, Kevin lifted you into his arms and carefully carried you back to your bedroom, laying you down and pulling you onto his chest. 

“Don’t go.” You whimpered, clinging to him. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, tilting your chin up to press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. You were certain it had to be gross because you hadn’t brushed your teeth since vomiting, but Kevin didn’t seem to mind, instead just whispering softly to you about how excited he was, how much he loves you and how sorry he was for not just saying it earlier. 

It was with his voice in your ear, his body below you, and his hand on your stomach that you finally cried yourself to sleep, praying that tomorrow you’d feel better. 

[snickiebear]

Hi bby! 1, 2, 3, 6, 16, 27, 29, 33, 35! 🖤

mittens!!! loml!!

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

oh goodness... um, i’d say a 4?? yeah, that sounds about right, only because i often make so many tense mistakes and even when i edit there’s always something to fix. and just,,, im still learning a lot (aren’t we all). plus, sometimes the stuff i put out needs so much more work (see: my recent shisaku fic... i want to tear it up and put it back together.. ugh.. also wt&r, just everything)

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

OH GOODIE! i just... well, i wrote a lot when i was twelve-fourteenish, then kind of on and off through the years. never really had anything to ground me and get me to take writing seriously. and then i found naruto and sakura who has so much unused potential and it just made me so angry to see her treated that way. 

point being, the naruto fandom (more specifically the sakura fandom) rooted me down and allowed me be able to grow as a writer even though i’ve only been posting since january my writing style has changed so much, and i can physically feel myself becoming a better writer. 

plus, i just love it. the thrill of being able to use these characters and pairings and do what i want with them?? i drink it up, i love it!!! its so freeing and such a great way to really dig deep within writing itself. 

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

i think its just the way i word things, you and a lot of others call it poetry but meh i just call it fancy words or word vomit from my brain AHAHHAHA

also, my thing is God Killers, God Eaters, and Angry Wrathful Women at this point, so maybe thats another thing?

but honestly,,, i have no clue... you’d have to ask my lovely readers, im so thankful for them 😭

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

plot probably. this changes often though. usually when i have an idea, the rest comes to mind and i jot it down and come back and change things and stuff, so thats usually pretty easy tbh... at least for now LMAO

and inner dialogue, inner struggles, showing the entire internal thing. its fun writing that angsty part of a story, the small insights into a character’s mind, how miserable and alone they feel. or, perhaps how happy they are, overjoyed and at peace. 

OH AND WORLD BUILDING. i pride myself so much on my world building. i honestly think thats one of the better things im good at! just weaving small details into the text, and subtly building a world within your mind, oh i love it so much!!!!

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

mmmm nothing really comes to mind? men simping for women who could kick their ass? tho idk if thats really a guilty pleasure....am very fond of same age aus, sometimes mafia aus too... ummm,, yeah

(probably big dick tenzo tbh... and the fact that kakashi’s face is a legal weapon AHAHAHA,,, and broken, vunreble men. also, shattered, all consuming women.)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

oh god... i cannot chose! you, ele, al, and hika leave the kindest comments, and literally any comment on the things i write just make me so so so so so HAPPY. i just them more than kudos tbh. 

but! one comment on the intimacy of being understood i always come back to. it was left by GuardianMars and they wrote that the fic was like a “love letter to the pairing.” and that well. i think about that comment all the time. 

there have been so many others comments that have utterly touched my heart and that i will go to read on terrible, horrible days and i value ALL comments. especially those who say “i’m rereading this again” or “i’ll read anything you put out” that just. there is something so intimate about that, that utter faith and loyalty that i do not know what to do with. 

its so touching and makes me truly believe in the good of the world. 

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

yes! i am attempting to get better at writing smut because ol&w is going to have some fucking in it so i experimented in that shisaku fic and just..... yeah idk man. idk... its something i do want to get better at cause, meh why not? and i want to write some good porn for my readers damnit! HAHAHA 

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

hmmm,,, probably that i stress so much and yet so little at the same time? allow me to elaborate! i stress so much about whether my writing is actually good or if people are just being nice LMAO and also posting, i get cold sweats and a thumping heart and yiKES

but also, i enjoy writing so its like “fuck you (jk ily guys) imma write what i wanna!”...do you see my issue? HAHAHA

also, im a planner. most of the time, and a lot of the details in my more serious fics (ol&w) are blink and miss details but they’re important and i LOVE foreshadowing!!!! like yes, i will vaguely mention something and itll simply come back with a vengeance! 

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

aaaaaa okokok thank you for this ask LMAO i just love talking about writing and rambling (as i often do,, im a long winded person, im very sorry)! 

but anyways! my summer semester just started up and i’m taking three purely online classes and the college im attending (im a dual enrollment student; meaning a high school and college kid,, taking advantage of the system!) fucked up my schedule so! im taking two TWELVE WEEK CLASSES that will end in AUGUST???? and then my fall sem starts five days later so... no summer break for nadia! yay...

writing will be very slow and updates will be too, which i am so sad and frustrated about because i’ve finally hit a paved road and now we’re driving into the forest! all bumps and bruises damnit! BUT worry not! i (as i said above, am i severe planner. every day has a plan, i am also an avid lover of lists also. i have lists for EVERYTHING) am working out a schedule so that i can get all my school shit done as soon as i can (while not failing) and write while hopefully not burning myself out.  

ol&w is such an intricate fic and im truly trying to give it the justice it deserves,,, im just hoping that my dear readers can bear with me HAHAHAHA there is honestly so much going on in that fic; shikamaru’s development, the underlying plot, the hate to love build up, the world building, and then laying down the foundations for the next fic (because yes, this is supposed to be a trilogy.. question is; will i be able to write it?) (answer: maybe. hopefully. i desperately want to but it might take some time.)

BUT ASLO i have so many oneshots i want to write! kisame week! kakashi week! kibasaku long fic! and not to mention my og work that i plan on rewriting and putting up on ao3 because a few people showed some interest. there is just so much to do and write and i am itching to do it all! but. well, but school, and the exhaustion of insomnia, and the weight of stress, sigh. 

shit sucks, it is what it is. but writing is like my safe haven and i just love pouring all myself into my fics and then baring my soul to you all and you take a peek and decide to keep looking. that is my favorite part of this little pocket of tumblr. 

this was not really... fic related? more like a dump of issues! so sorry about that AHAHAHAH 

anyways! thank you so much mittens! :)))))))))

pick my brain!

[honeycashmere]

Love On The Brain

Warnings: Smut, face fucking, a little rough, angsty, a little possessive side to Chris

Summary: You ever been in a relationship where both you and your boyfriend have an attitude but love each other like crazy and sort of break up almost all the time only to make up all the time with some freaky sex? Yeah me too. Chris breaks up with unnamed ofc, a young feisty women. Her mind debates as she thinks of the time she was better on her own. After a stormy confrontation at her house she realizes a couple things...

Note: I posted this on my AO3 acct (@ goodonesgo) on August 14, 2017

It has been eight months since Chris broke up with me and within those eight months I found out, he began dating some no-name actress he was working with. He said it was because I was “too busy” and that going the distance would be “too hard right now” … Really? Real love is about sacrifices. I had to stand my ground which I’m sure no one he’s ever dated has done. I had to stand up for myself but I slightly bashed him in the process. Stating that I didn’t want to take a five month break to not do anything with my career like him. Yup I threw the shade. I mean I was a savage, not trying to be degrading just simply stating the facts. I was Miss Petty but what did he expect? I could’ve said worse. What little I said was enough to infuriated him. We knew how to push each other’s buttons when we wanted to.

Not only that but he knew what he was getting himself into. I’m working hard so hard right now to have stable future and to take care of my family for life. Money doesn’t just grow on trees. I mean, they do but they go through a lot to get into my pocket. I couldn’t stop my life and jump whenever he said jump. I know what you’re thinking, I sound like those crazy ambitious women who wear the balls in the relationship but that’s not the case at all. Yes it’s true, I want a long lasting career but in a relationship I want to take the back seat. I want to be taken care of because I spend a lot of time taking care of everyone in my life. Chris had brought so much happiness into my life and some stress when we broke up. I wish he was just more understanding. Maybe it was our age difference.

Every time I try to convince myself that I am not better on my own. That maybe just maybe I really do need someone to rely on, the world shows me something. Whether it was an ex friend’s true colors or another loser I had fallen for. The universe gives me signs. I’m better on my own. It was all unfair. Because if he were in my shoes and our relationship had to take the back seat so he could achieve his goals and dreams than I would of supported it. Instead he dumped me and within four months started dating his co-star on a new movie.

I had just finished a movie and headed home to my little place in LA. I was going to hang out with friends and possibly have a spa day tomorrow. After having to fly for over six hours, all I wanted was a pizza and a Netflix binge. It was 2 o’clock in the afternoon and I was already in my oversized t-shirt and shorts. I couldn’t be happier though. Sounds lame right? Honestly it is going to be the perfect Saturday evening with no interrupt-

Brrrp Brrrp

Shit. I forgot to turn off my phone. I quickly glanced down and saw his name. I feel myself freeze. We haven’t talked in months. What does he want?

Hey can we talk? Heard you were in town. This was 20 minutes ago.

The last text message said: I’m outside. 2 minutes ago.

I can’t believe this mother- I look out my window to see his car in my drive way. I went to open my door and muttered, “What the fuck?” as I saw Chris get out of his car. I stood in front of my door way, definitely dressed incorrectly to entertain a uninvited guest. “What do you want?” “No hello?” he brushed the back of his head with his finger tips looking timid as ever but then noticed my outfit or lack there of. He started looking me up and down.

(Just imagine Chris showing up to your house looking like THIS.)

“Hello. What do you want?” I repeated, this time trying not to sound too brash. He stood there tall, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, the fabric of his shirt tightened in right places, making his muscles visible even hidden under… Shit. I need to stop. “I just wanted to talk to you. It will be short,” he said probably trying to reassure my already suspicious thoughts. “Can I come inside?”

“Hmm short talks don’t usually mean an invitation inside someone’s house.” I couldn’t stop myself. I was always a smart ass which is why Chris liked me in the first place. I broke face. I slightly laughed after my own comment, letting him know it was kind of okay to come into my house. I’ll probably regret it later.

“I thought you hated me,” he said, taking a look around my house. “I’m just trying to be polite. Now tell me why you came here.”

Chris paused as he looked at a picture sitting on my bookshelf causing him to sigh. It was a picture of us and his family at Disney World. He stayed silent, looking at our photo. Probably remember the story behind it, filling his mind with nostalgia. Which he loved by the way. I interrupted his thoughts by casually saying, “I haven’t been home in months. I didn’t take anything down yet.”

He turned his head and looked at me. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you, I wanted to talk to you about everything. Life has been crazy.” I felt like I knew where this was heading. I couldn’t let him charm me. “You can’t do this,” I said crossing my arms. “You can’t end it the way you ended it and expect me to be your shoulder to lean on. We can’t be friends.” By the look on Chris’s face I could tell he was offended. “That’s kind of harsh.”

“Breaking up with me and dating someone you worked very closely with… Someone you told me ‘not to worry about’… is kind of harsh.” I knew that had to hurt a pinch if not a slap but it was the truth. When I found out… I couldn’t believe it. All my friends tried to convince me it was a ‘rebound’ girl but I knew better… He stared at me in disbelief that I went there. “Sooooo we can’t be friends?” His voice went up in protest.

“No, we can’t,” I said firmly. I began walking towards the front door. I was ready to open it and hopefully get him out of my house. Chris took a deep breath trying to calm his frustration with me. “After everything we’ve been through… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I made a mistake... We broke up already.” “I don’t see how that changes anything.” What does he expect me to do? Just pretend this didn’t happen?

“She isn’t you.”

I visibly roll my eyes at him. Did he really just- I can’t. Did he really just say that? My annoyance grew. I could feel the heat of my frustration grow within me. “Yeah okay but you did what you did, and it doesn’t change anything.” “Can’t you forgive me?!” Chris asked genuinely.

“It’s not that easy.” I can hear the sudden raise in my voice. I tried to calm it. I took a deep breathe and reached for my next word. "You made me feel really bad... for being driven. You know that’s who I am. I want a successful career before a family. I’m young and you made me feel bad for wanting what I want. Then you dated that bitch.”

“Yeah and you made me feel bad for wanting to spend time with my family and taking a break.” He returned the attitude.

There was a moment of silence. I mustered up the courage and walked towards him. “It’s over, I don’t even know why you’re still here. This doesn’t change the fact that you broke us up.” I whispered. I felt both of his hands grip my arms firmly. “But I want to fix this. I want this. I should of been more understanding. You were right, you told me from the beginning what you wanted and I stupidly thought otherwise.”

He reached for the back of my neck pulling me into his kiss. I gasp and try to fight it but I can feel myself wanting his lips against mine. A feeling of passion I missed. The smell of his cologne, his firm muscular body, even the touch of the fabric on his shirt made me want this all back. My body began relaxing, getting familiar with his again. The heat coming off our bodies. Come on, stop. I hear my internal voice say. I forced myself to pull away from his strong grip.

“You can’t do this,” my voice cracks. Oh god. I really didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable.

“I only love you,” he said.

I looked away from his gaze. I knew I still wanted Chris. What I didn’t know is if I’d be able to take him back that easily. But he left me high from one kiss, like inhaling the first puff of thick smoke. “I don’t know what you do to me,” I say desperately.

Within a second I was pulled into him by his strong arms again. He rested his forehead against mine, breathing me in, and holding me so tightly I couldn’t even push him away if I tried. I looked up, staring at those blue eyes that usually hid when he was hurt but they were as visible as ever.

“Please,” he whispered. I should of said “leave” or “go“ but all I could get out was, “Fuck.” His lips crashed into mine and my body was lifted into his arms. He carried me from my living room to my bedroom, it all felt so familiar to me. Chris laid me on to my bed, quickly climbing on top of me.

“You’re mine.” He face turns into a determined expression with a small smirk creeping.

“Wow,” I rolled my eyes and laughed at him only making him chuckle. His hand pulled away my shirt, throwing the fabric on to the floor, exposing my skin. He started running his fingers up my side which made me tingle surprisingly.

“You think I’m kidding?” He smirked, his voice became low. “You belong to me.”

I couldn’t help but grin. He did charm me again with his delicious determination. “Then fucking prove it,” I said.

Chris kept that smirk on his face, scooting lower, pulling my bottoms off so more skin would be exposed. He kissed my thigh. I felt his finger hooked my panties, pulling them off of me quickly. The urgency to feel his touch was overwhelming. I lifted myself up using my elbows to watch what he would do next. One hand caressed up my body towards my mouth. He let two of his fingers slip into my mouth, letting me suck and lick them. Moistening them as began kissing my other thigh.

Chris slightly caressed my opening before slipping his two wet fingers inside of me. He didn’t even wait for my to response, they were fully inside of me and I gasped at the feeling. I couldn’t even remember the last time we've touched. He moved his face closer to my clit. I could feel the heat from his breath on my skin. How I wanted him to fuck me soon… instead his tongue found it’s way to my clit causing me to let out a moan.

I tilt my head back enjoying the pleasure he was giving me. How I wanted him to leave, how I wanted him to stay. He knew what to do to drive me crazy… He worked fingers in and out of me. I could tell from his sensual movements that he was determined to make me cum. I felt another finger find it’s way inside me and I looked up at him in shock. I was enjoying the stretch. I orgasmed so fast. Panting, moaning uncontrollably, and then I laid there flat enjoying my endorphins as I was wildly aroused awaiting his next step. I watched him quickly remove his clothes. Chris came up to my face hovering over me with a satisfied boyish smirk. He gave me a quick kiss too.

My orgasm was so good I was ready to please him as well. “I want you to fuck my face.” His eye widen at his smirk got bigger. “And then I want you to fuck me.”

Chris eagerly stood on my bed as I sat up on my knees. His cock was already erect. Right in front of me. I look up at him smiling giving his head a lick before taking him in my mouth. I felt his hands already on my head guiding me before he started thrusting into my mouth. His pace was steady and my mouth became messy. All my moisture coating his cock as he fucked my face and some of it dripped out of my mouth. He would stop sometimes only to let me catch my breath but I was ready. I was ready to be fucked. I grab his hands from my head, moving them away as I laid on the bed on my stomach, turning my head to look up at him. I arched my back a little, letting my ass stick up a bit.

Chris came down, grabbing my cheeks and massaging them with his strong hands even giving them a kiss. “God I’ve missed this. Your ass is so beautiful,” he gazed at it before giving it a nice slap causing me grin because I loved the mixture of pleasure and a little pain. Het got behind me, rubbing the tip against my entrance before sliding into me where we both moaned experiencing our mutual pleasure. I keep my eyes on Chris as he begins thrusting deeply in and out of me. His lips pressed against my shoulder. He steadied his breathing making sure as he thrusted in and out of me that I really felt him. My body almost forgot how good his cock felt. It would even feel more incredible if I was on top of him.

“Get off,” I said. Chris looked confused but did as so. “Lay down baby.” He complied liking my change in mood. I give him a kiss before getting on him reverse cowgirl style. I knew he would enjoy the view since his hands touched my ass as soon as I slid down on him. I began grinding on him really letting his hard cock hit me in the right spot. From the feeling of Chris’s hands gripping my skin to his pleasurable groans I could tell he was enjoying it too. I throw my head back really riding him, taking my time to build my orgasm. God it felt so good. I could feel Chris’s hands slap my ass cheeks again. I knew he was close and being patient with me. Enjoying the work I was putting in until I felt him sit up, grabbing me on top of him. My back to his chest, my legs spread and his legs bent. He began thrusting into me, his fingers finding their way to my clit as he began to rub but he gets impulsive again. He changes the script and flips me over so I’m on my stomach. He pulls me up so my back is arched and our bodies reconnect as he starts thrusting harder into me. My hands grip the sheets, my mouth bites the pillow as I’m being fucked roughly by him. One of his hands pushed my head into the pillow with the grip of my hair and the other hand wondered my body. I feel him reach for my clit wanting to make sure I cam before him and when I did I screamed in orgasmic bliss. I laid completely flat, ready to pass out in that moment but Chris wasn’t quit done.

I look back at him, completely flustered with a happy grin. I could see in his eyes his concentration and steady pace. His chest was pounding and turning red. His body was glistening from sweat, his muscles were looking so… tight. I felt myself more turned on than before. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel you cum.”

Chris made eyes at me. Smirking at my directions but he did so. He. Fucked. Me. So. Hard. Thrusting into me as if he were going to physically nail me to the bed. I felt his cock reach so deeply inside of me and out of me a hundred times causing me whimper. He gripped my hair a little tighter with his last few thrust as he came. He immediately fell next to me on the bed and laid there in silence for a while as we caught out breaths.

“I’m so fucked,” I said. “What’s wrong?” “No, I’ve been sooooo fucked,” I said while attempting to get up. I wanted to clean myself up and probably take a shower but Chris bursts out laughing and pulled me into his chest. He kept me there tightly which was probably a good thing cause I start to feel how sore I was going to be in the morning. “Does this count as break up sex?” I wanted to know.

“No, because we aren’t breaking up this time,” he said. “Whoa, you think it’ll be that easy?” I looked up at him amused. “Well your heart is connected to mine,” Chris said with the most satisfied silly grin. “Oh cornball. Don’t think it’ll be that easy. You think one good fuck is enough?” Chris chuckled. “How about a few more fucks then?” He pulled my face closer to him, giving me the most passionate kiss. It was all so easy for me to fall for him again within a matter of moments. “Who’s gonna fuck you like me?” I gasped, slapping his chest. Who does he think he is?

“Oh by the way, people don’t belong to me,” I said running my hands over his arm. My fingertips feeling the veins that ran up his arms. “I don’t care. You’re mine. That ass... is mine.” I burst out laughing, grabbing the pillow behind my head to hit him. “Get over yourself.” I tried to hit him more a few times but he gripped his arms around me even tighter.

If there was such a thing called “Dick Whipped” that is what I am.

[angelguk]

the (not really a) prerequisite to the things i never told you fic! jk is drunk and stupid. oc is stubborn and stupid. but she takes care of jk because who will if not her. alternatively the one where jk asks you to hold his dick.  2k words of jk being stupid. warning drug usage in this 1

Jeongguk shouldn't look cute but he does. It's a disappointing realization on your part if you're being honest with yourself. The pits of his shirt are stained dark, damp with his sweat and his jeans look like they've gotten five new rips revealing his sun-kissed burly thighs. He reeks of alcohol, even from the distance you're standing at. Probably the remnants of the vile concoction you'd spied Jimin mixing in the kitchen. Someone should keep that boy away from liquor before he accidentally sends someone to the ICU. You have a sneaky suspicion that Jeongguk will be his first victim, evident from the way he staggers up the stairs to your apartment.

"Jeongguk?" You offer into the early morning air. You'd checked the time before you'd grabbed a sweater and headed out to find him. It was nearing five and the melodious chirping of the birds was starting to infiltrate the misty air.

He grunts in response, taking a precarious step upward. Which he immediately misses. You move fast enough down the stairs to grab at his shirt before he tips backwards and tumbles down to the tarmac road of your parking lot. You'd rather not drive to the hospital at this time in the morning.

"Bro, what the fuck? How drunk are you?" It's hard to hold up Jeongguk's weight when he's literally all just pure muscle. But he's leaning onto you anyway, eyes half-closed and a suspicious red mark on his face. You peer at it again when Jeongguk dumps his head into the hollow of your neck. It's a dick drawing. Of course.

"M not tha drunk." He muffles it into your skin, swaying violently on the edge of the staircase.

"Yeah, you're not," You scoff back, snaking your arms around his waist so you can support him. Jeongguk doesn't protest against your grip, melting smoothly against your body as you drag him up to your apartment door.

"Who dropped you?" You question. You'd left Jeongguk at the party and arrived home around at three in the morning. Only two precious hours of sleep before your best friend came knocking at your door.

"Taehyung," He murmurs before he burps right into neck.

"You fucking pig! Do that again and I'll leave you here." You threaten. You want to push his head away from you but you'll afraid that'll trigger the projectile vomit threatening to rip from his mouth.

"Sorry," He mumbles, nestling himself further into your frame. Which doesn't even work the way he wants it too because you're a dwarf and Jeongguk thinks he's six feet (he's 5'11'' but whatever strokes his massive ego).

"Are you gonna throw up?" You've reached your door now. It's unlocked, so you use your foot to kick it open.

"Don't think so." It's not reassuring in the slightest. But you hope he's telling the truth.

You make it to your bedroom easily enough. Dayoung isn’t home thank god. She's complained about Jeongguk's drunken sleepovers too many times. But at this point you were starting to feel the same - Jeongguk only ever showed up to your house when he was completely and utterly smashed beyond words.

"Why don't you ever sleep at your home?" You question. Jeongguk's flopped onto your bed and you're on the ground, untying his shoes because you don't want whatever he'd stepped on smearing on your floor.

"It's nice here," He replies, his words slurring together. "You're here. And you take care of me. I don't wanna be alone."

You pause at that, something ticking in your chest. The emotions bleed together until you can't distinguish irritation from longing. It's so stupid, how Jeongguk makes you feel. Some part of you wants to bop his nose and the other wants to punch his face. There's a thin line there - between love and hate.

The air is heavy with your silence, but you can't think of anything to fill it up with. But you suspect Jeongguk has already succumbed to sleep from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. There's a huge stain on his sweatshirt and you briefly consider taking it off and tossing it in your laundry pile. It wouldn't hurt to wash it up for him. But then you remember that he's probably wearing nothing underneath and you'd rather gouge your eyes out then have Jeongguk naked in your bed.

You toss his shoes into a corner and snatch some blankets for him to cuddle under. There was no way you could lift the sheets up from beneath him, what with Jeongguk T-posing onto your comforter. So blankets it was.

You've only settled in for less than a minute when Jeongguk grumbles awake, eyebrows furrowed in the cutest way possible.

"Um. Y/N?" He croaks out. "We have a problem."

"I swear to god if you puke on my bed I will castrate you, you son of-"

"I'm not going to puke on your bed! However," He turns his head in your direction. The long chestnut strands of his hair curling around his face, framing his features perfectly. Your fingers itch to push them back. "I might piss on it."

You kick him so hard that he tips onto the floor, groaning loudly. You feel bad at that moment when the thud of his ass hits your hardwood floors and echoes through your room.

"Shit! Sorry, I didn't mean too-"

"You did!"

"You're the one threatening to piss on my bed!"

"And kicking me off it is going to help? I'll just piss on your floor!"

"Jeongguk you have functioning legs! The bathroom is right there!"

There's a halt in your argument then. You peer over the edge of your bed to find Jeongguk curled into himself, face twisted like he's struggled to keep his bowls from erupting onto your floor. His eyes are wide open though, pupils dark.

"Jesus fuck what is wrong with you?"

"Eh. Might have smoked with the guys."

"Are you crossfaded? Jeongguk are you fucking stupid?"

"Maybe."

You're at a loss for words. You don't want to judge him for experimenting, but he was tripping balls on your bedroom floor, threatening to piss on it for god's sake. You didn't know college would make him this stupid.

"So what's stopping you from heading to the bathroom?" You ask instead, getting on the floor beside him. You would offer him water but that's like adding fuel to the fire.

"Honestly? My legs kind of, aren't there?"

"Jeongguk...Your legs are attached to your body."

"But like, I can't feel them. They're like...gone?"

You sigh heavily, hands reaching out to get him upright. Jeongguk winces when you do, the pressure on his bladder hurting. "How much did you smoke?"

"Not that much. I'm not tripping badly. I just really need to pee," Jeongguk insists.

"What? Do you need me to help you get to the bathroom, or?"

"That and," Jeongguk falls silent. You can see him considering his options before he opens his mouth again. "Could you maybe...hold my dick too?"

You blanch at that. Your brain refuses to process the statement. But then Jeongguk is poking your arm and you have to come to terms with reality.

"You want me to do what?"

"My aim is gonna be kind of shoddy and unless you want your walls covered in piss-"

"Jeongguk you are not five," You hiss.

"My motor skills are impaired babes. Just do this for me, please. I'll buy you breakfast tomorrow."

"You mean today." The sun is already starting to break through the dark blanket of the night and the birds are getting louder, but not loud enough to drown out the drumming of your blood in your head.

"Yeah, today. Whatever. Just help me out." He does that pout that turns you into putty. You want to say no, but you really can't. A part of you hates Jeongguk for how easily he manipulates you into doing what he wants.

"Fine. Get up." Jeongguk grins broadly at that, his brown eyes glittering. Your heart betrays you with how fast it beats. This isn't fair in the slightest.

In the bathroom, Jeongguk whines about how bright the lights are, but his lips clamp together when your hands land on the zipper of his jeans. You tug it down without much thought. He doesn't move however, a heaviness in the air that you can feel on your skin.

"Um. Take your dick out, you dimwit," You grumble. You turn your gaze away when he finally fumbles himself out his pants. It's so quiet in the bathroom. The air feels like it's closing in on you. The heat in your cheeks isn't helping either. You want this to be short. A memory you'll hopefully never remember. But even despite the dwindling liquor in your system, your mind feels very awake. You know this is going to be burned into your mind forever. It kind of makes you want to scream. The first time you'll ever hold Jeongguk's dick is to help him pee.

The absurdity of it all encourages a giggle from your throat. But then Jeongguk elbows you harshly.

"Give me your hand," he whispers. Jeongguk spots the smile on your face and frowns. Your smile immediately vanishes as you shove your hand into his palm.

"Here," You mumble, turning your eyes to the ceiling above you. Jeongguk takes it gingerly and a moment later you have to stop yourself from violently gagging when he wraps your fingers around his flaccid dick.

"God penises are gross," You mutter. Your voice bounces off the bathroom tiles, sounding much louder than you anticipated.

Jeongguk sighs in response, but then you feel his eyes on you. "You're going to have to look at it, you know."

"I'd rather not."

"Your aim is going to be worse than mine."

"I don't care."

"Okay," Jeongguk says it nonchalantly, but if his pee gets on your walls you will make him clean that shit up. You hope he knows that.

There's a trickle that hits the toilet water a beat later, and it takes everything in you to not throw up. You keep your hand steady as best as you can. Jeongguk tries to help you by leaning against the wall above the toilet, the angle a little bit better for this scenario but worse for you, because you're now plastered against his sweat covered back.

You count down the seconds until he's done, despising the little sighs Jeongguk lets out of his mouth. When the sound finally stops you breath, not realizing you've been holding your breath in the whole time.

"I'm finished." You move to drop his dick but Jeongguk's firm fingers stop you. "Gotta shake it."

"I've gotta do what?! You're fully capable of shaking your dick, you-" His fingers are wrapped around your own and he gives himself a couple of good shakes before tucking himself back into his pants. You stand there in shock the whole time, unable to piece together the situation happening to you. It’s only when Jeongguk pulls away from you, your palm feeling like it's been branded with the imprint of his flaccid dick, that you finally process what just happened.

He deserves the kick you give him. But instead of saying anything, Jeongguk just smiles, cradling his knee. At least his ears are tinged rouge, but that's nothing in comparison to the heat you feel burning on your face.

"I hate you." You finally say, moving to the sink to scrub your hands.

"You don't." Jeongguk retorts, ruffling his hair. You hate that he's right. "And uh, thank you."

"Don't even mention this to anyone. This never happened, "You reply. Your hands are red from how hard you're scrubbing them. "And wash your hands you pig."

He shuffles to the sink beside you, a small smile curling his lips upward. "You're awesome, you know that."

"I just held your dick for you while you pissed. Please shut up."

He quirks an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't meant to talk about that."

You kick him again. Hard.

[packsbeforesnacks]

Talk Too Much || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, May 30th, 2020, Late Night LOCATION: Dell’s Tavern PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn comes clean. Blanche wants to drink. WARNINGS: Extremely brief mention of assisted-suicide-by-hunter.

Blanche was still irritated with the whole Winn situation, but if she were being truly honest with herself, she just didn’t have enough energy to be truly angry. No one had died, and at the end of the day, none of it mattered. It was a string of unfortunate events that were, for the most part, corrected by Winn coming back. If anything, the bigger headache was going to be with Ariana and Noah and any of his other possible-wolf friends that he left behind and not with her. She pulled into Dell’s parking lot, parked her Jeep and asked for a booth to settle in. Winn wanted to talk, and she didn’t know how responsive she’d be, but she would at least try to not lose her shit like she had with Theo before… She had just been browsing the cocktail menu she saw Winn. Leaning out of the booth, she waved. “Hey! Winn. Over here.” She gave him a strained smile. “I hope you know I’m getting the biggest burger there is.”

Winn could be honest: He was frustrated with the chain of events that had unfolded in his absence. Noah had clued him in, and the pack’s general sentiments had solidified that Noah hadn’t been in the minority. But, really, aside from Noah’s special case, Winn could handle the pack’s anger. It had been a stupid miscommunication, but it was his stupid miscommunication. He could fix it. What he couldn’t fix, what ate at him, was Blanche’s trust in him. Winn slid into the booth, across from Blanche, and smiled tentatively. “B, you could buy out Dell’s and I’d pay for every cocktail, every inch of grease to make you a burger of your dreams.” Winn sighed, rolling his neck. He needed to be drunk for this; he couldn’t possibly be drunk for this. “I slept through half the day, the entire pack doesn’t trust me, my father I guess lives with me now? But, Blanche, I’ll be honest. I don’t give a shit about any of that because I am so scared you hate me now. I know it’s selfish. But I—” Winn glanced down at his hands, hesitant to meet Blanche’s eyes. “If you don’t want to… be around me. I understand. That’s one answer I don’t have for you tonight. I don’t… I don’t know what happened, after you threw me. But,” Winn looked up, “I am going to find out. It will never happen again.”

Blanche opened her mouth to start talking, but Winn started in on the serious things before she could even start with some mild small talk. She faltered, unsure what to say for a moment as she rubbed the back of her neck with a low sigh. She supposed she was supposed to feel bad, but all things considered, her emotions were a little fried. “Winn, I wouldn’t have met you here if I didn’t want to be around you,” she said pointedly. “I like free food, but not that much. Come on.” Tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, she considered her next words carefully. “I heard the words ‘loss of control’ being thrown around a lot,” she said finally, with a shrug. She remembered, vaguely, Winn’s wolfish form coming at her with some sort of bloodthirsty look on his face. That was the only reason Blanche was able to differentiate the first attack from the second, though she was still a little peeved he hadn’t told her he couldn’t understand human words. Noah was right, they were both morons. “And no, it won’t happen again, because we’re not doing that again. You want to spar with me? I get to punch you in your big, dumb human face and hopefully no one will scare me so bad that my brain thinks I have to chuck you across a clearing and into a tree. Which— Sorry. Again. Truly. I didn’t mean to.” And even if they did that, it would preferably be around the New Moon. She frowned slightly, and ran a hand down her face. “I’m sorry that the pack is angry with you, too.”

Winn couldn’t help a small smile from forming on his face. Not quite dopey, but not subtle either. They could work through this. “Naw, B. I can take being thrown into a tree. Uh, or… Physically, anyway?” He laughed, weakly, as the server came over to take their orders. And, Jesus, was everyone in this town brutally attractive? The guy could be a Pine’s brother. Winn leaned on his hand, scratching at his chin. “Well, not… all of the pack? Just mostly. And I prolly deserve it. I should’ve left the note somewhere smarter. I should’ve replaced my phone before leaving town. I should’ve checked my account or my email to make sure weird shit wasn’t happenin’. It was… I don’t want to make excuses. But a lot of shit went down, and me freakin’ out and comin’ at you was not the weirdest — or worst — part of my week. And given that it was extremely bad… Anyway, I’ll get to that, but: You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, far as I’m concerned.” Winn scratched at the wood of the table, nervous. “But, uh— Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bummer, just didn’t want… I know shit’s not great, with you, so maybe this is a dumb question, but: How’re you checkin’ in?” He’d explained the concept to her before, a while back, but this was the first time it felt… right to use it, instead of just chattin’. This felt more… not formal, per se, but different. A boundary that he needed to respect.

“I’m trying to not make it a habit. Throwing people, I mean,” Blanche said, running a hand through her hair. The server came and went and she let out a low sigh as she settled back into the booth as she listened to Winn. They could go over should haves and could haves for hours, though she didn’t particularly want too. It was a waste of time, especially when they could easily move on from mistakes and do better. Especially when no one had died. Even the feud between herself and Adrien seemed so small in the wake of Bea’s death. Adrien and Blanche could hurl cruel words at each other all day, every day, but at least they were both still alive. At least they were there so they could do that. The thought made her want to call him, but she knew he still needed space from the explosion that happened with Regan. She looked at Winn and just gave him a shrug. “Things are shitty,” she said. Checking in was harder and harder — she just wanted to forget and be numb to it. She had told Adam that it was easier that way. “Possession sucked. I’ve been staying with Nell because I can’t stand feeling a ghost near me for too long. It’s been a thing.” She gave another shrug, not willing to go into it. “Are you going to tell me where you went that made your week so weird and shitty? And, uh, for the record, I’d also like to address the killswitch thing as well, if you don’t mind.”

Oh, right. Honesty. That pesky thing that Winn had committed to, with Blanche and Noah especially. “This is going to be… a long story,” Winn warned, hand around his water for when he inevitably needed to pause. “So, uh. You don’t know… a fuckton about my past. That’s… by design, or was.” He stopped himself. Okay, he could be less confusing. “I was born Winthrop Linton Zhou, don’t say a fuckin’ word, and grew up in Falls Church. My dad, Daniel Zhou, taught at Georgetown for years, and my mom is, uh, Congresswoman-then-Speaker-of-the-House? Elaine Delacour. We like Dad. We have… extremely mixed feelings on Mom, to say the least. I, um, went to college, went through some shit, got the Bite, and then a couple years later… killed a Hunter, in self-defense.” He sighed, remembering that both his dad and his former partner didn’t blame him, and they thought he’d been in the right — that Winn didn’t need to carry that guilt quite so heavily. “Shit got… weird, from there. I was in a pretty dark place. And, uh, I… actually don’t remember a lot. I’m pretty sure that I was a wolf for, like… a lot of the time for the next year. But then there’s a whole other year, and… Anyway, more on that later. I ended up in Europe in early 2018, took on Winn Woods as an assumed name, falsified some documents, and eventually applied to school here. Couldn’t tell you why, to be honest. I’m— uh, well, okay, so that answered exactly none of your questions, but I’m gonna pause here, ‘cause I can see you steamin’ like a tea kettle.”

Blanche sat there in silence for a long time, staring at Winn with a mixture of… Well, actually, she didn’t know. Disbelief? Not quite right. And she wasn’t sure she was angry either. Blanche didn’t come in swinging with her “#TRAGIQUE” backstory either because as much as they all liked to make fun of their personal shit it was still personal and there were things that hurt. Things that couldn’t be glossed over in a joke. If Winn didn’t want to discuss his background that was his prerogative. She sat there digesting the information. At some point, the waiter came and went with their drinks. Blanche had a water and a lemonade because she always wanted both and it was easier for a second to watch the little lemon slice floating at the top of her drink than think about the information that was just dumped onto her. Blanche took a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. …. And then a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. And then she rounded off with a - guess what - big drink of water. And then, she folded her hands in front of her, and looked at him. “... Asdmgph.” Oh, good going, Blanche. Real intelligent answer. Sure using that college experience to help you out there. So, she tried again. “.... Winthrop?” Oh, that was an easy one to start with. “You have a problem with me calling you Winnifred when your name is Winthrop?”

Admittedly, Winn thought this conversation was going to go worse than it had. He expected anger, or yelling. But no. Blanche just stared at him, well, blankly. And drank a truly gargantuan amount of liquid, taking in water, and lemonade, like a fish in Georgia. And then short-circuiting, like a fish in Georgia when you dropped a toaster in the water. Okay, jokes. Winn could do jokes. Blanche and his entire relationship was built on a cornerstone of gentle ribbing, because both of them were ridiculous. That said, “I said don’t say a fuckin’ word about the Winthrop thing. I haven’t gone by that since I was, like, five.” Winn remembered cryin’ on the first day of kindergarten to his dad, beggin’ him to not make him go by Winthrop ‘cause all the other kids had such cool names, and they thought he was gonna be mean ‘cause his name sounded like an oil baron. (Granted, it was his grandfather’s, so… not far off.) “And I didn’t say I had a problem with you callin’ me Winnifred, I just thought it was lazy, Blanche.” He pointedly didn’t make a joke of Blanche’s name, needing her to realize this conversation was still, like, fairly serious. “Uh, also my dad’s a fox?” he tried, eager to move on from his name or what had led him to White Crest. “Like, um, not a literal. Like, a supernatural fox? Huxian-called-by-the-Japanese-kitsune kinda fox? He has tails. It’s kinda rad.” Winn, no.

“Okay, Winthrop,” Blanche answered immediately, grimacing slightly. Apparently, she had two settings at this moment, and one was watering herself like a plant and the other was, well, being a dick. “Sorry.” Blanche frowned slightly  at the mention of his dad being a … fox. Furry genes. She had to swallow the word whole, before her eyes widened as she looked up at Winn in horror. “I’m turning into Adam,” she groaned quietly, running her hands down her face as she leaned over the table. God. Okay. Reroute, Blanche. Be serious a moment. She took a few deep breaths, and then looked back at him. “Huxian?” Blanche repeated. “Fox. Right. Okay. Cool cool cool cool cool cool. Cool. That’s cool. Like a werefox? … Don’t answer that.” Blanche shook her head. “Keep going. I’m assuming there’s more?”

“Um,” Winn started, and then stopped. “I— Yes. There is. So, I should… backtrack a little. My week itself was, like, fine. It was… getting back, that made it weird and shitty. Noah was mad. I think we’re okay, but he was mad. Everyone thought I abandoned them, ran away, or, shit, was dead. I’m… I don’t have a right to be mad about it, but I am, a little bit, and it’s not your fault, ‘cause I didn’t know and I should have been clearer and I— I’m doing it again.” He took a deep breath. “Adam is my killswitch. Which means, like, if I ever… hurt someone, during the Full Moon, then I trust him to make it painless when he takes me out. I don’t— The pack would try to protect me, but that’s not who I am, not who I want to be. I became a werewolf by choice, but I won’t become a killer. Accidents happen, I get that, and I don’t— I’d protect any of them who did something, but, for me, I just… If Adam didn’t do it, the guilt would kill me. I— Um, I know I said I’d answer questions about that, but, I’ll be honest, I really don’t want to talk about it. It won’t happen. If it does, you can’t stop me.” His voice had gone hard, taken on an uncharacteristically cold tone, almost emotionless. “Blanche, I really need you to bear with me here.” It was his first time saying it aloud, first time admitting to, well… admitting to the truth. What was probably the truth. “I don’t have all of my memories.”

[ultraaanime]

Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?

“Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?” // College AU // Bakugou x OC

Rating: M - Warnings: Aged-up +21, Drugs (of the weed verity), Alcohol Use, Swearing, mentions and talking of sex.

WC: 2, 181

Hi! My Name is Bell, I am so new to this. This is my first thing I’ve written for My hero Academia and Bakugou, so hopefully you enjoy. I have been writing or trying to write for a while now and I haven’t really branched out into fanfic, but I thought why the hell not. My semester is pretty light, and I could totally avoid real life right now.

The title is a reference to the ridiculously funny Real Bros of Simi Valley. The O.C. I have is named Valerie Valentine, and I will probably be writing A LOT more with her, and they won’t all be AUs, I already have her quirk together, but I wanted to test the waters first. Also, Bakugou is a tiny bit ooc in this mostly because it’s a quirk-less AU and he’s also older and a tiny bit more mature. He’s still a twat though just tamed down. This is the first one-shot of a small blurb of college stories between my OC and BK.

Well, I will stop rambling, and please please enjoy! Oh! And please be kind xoxo!

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Honestly, I can't really explain how I got myself into this current situation. I could maybe allude it being paired with the energic, loud, spunky pink-haired girl who didn't know the first thing about cellular biology in our Sophomore year, who eventually talked me into hanging out with her without mentioning anything bio-related, or maybe it's because I'm a pushover who's willing to do whatever her friends ask of her.

Either way, I can't blame anyone but myself, and in reality, it's not like it's that different than any other Friday night. Drinks, games, movies with the usual group: regular, average, and even fun. The only difference between this Friday and last, is that everyone decided to cancel. Kaminari was the first, which means Jirou wasn't coming either, then almost immediately after that, Sero bailed out as well. I tried to cancel but Mina's insistent begging, mixed with "It's not as fun when its only Kiri and the gremlin!" So really, there was no way I was going to get out of it. But I didn't see the night playing out with Bakugou and I ending up on the couch while we awkwardly drink our beer and pretend not to hear what's going on behind Mina's closed door.  

It's not like Bakugou, and I didn't like each other. It was more like we just don't talk to each other. In the few times we have its mostly just hellos or meaningless small talk that I don't think either of us remember. Truthfully, I think it just that he doesn't enjoy the fact that I'm an outsider to his very tightknit group. I mean, these guys have known each other since high school, and I'm just the random girl that Mina inserted without any question in the third semester of school. Luckily, everyone else was welcoming and genuinely excited to get to know me, but Bakugou just seemed to put off. I tried not to look into it, everyone said that that was just who he was. And it's not like I'm missing much, he's always pretty transparent when it comes to what he wants or how he feels. I don't really need to have a personal conversation with him to know that he's loud and brash and that to him everyone is absolutely shitty.

Somewhere along these past couple of months though I noticed that I notice him, and it seems I just wasn't ready to be utterly alone with him in such a… delicate situation.

The noise from the television was loud, loud enough to dim the sounds from the next room, but definitely not loud enough to drown out the awkwardness of the living room. My hands were starting to sweat, and the beer in my grasp has grown way warmer than it was five minutes ago. Sinking back into the couch, I dragged the warm bottle to my lips. I took this moment to steal a glance at the man diagonal to me only to realize he's staring. "You know I-- "the words fumbled from my lips, the bottle in my hand slid until I caught it at the neck, and my body rocketed to an upright position.

"This happens every fucking time." He cocked his neck to one side, looking over at me with half-lidded eyes. "You'd think that since they made these stupid plans, they'd at least stay apart of them."

This is weird, I feel funny, get out of this situation as fast as you can. But those red eyes of his did things to me, and this is the first time I have ever seen him take more than a glance at me. At that moment, I had such sympathy for Kaminari; short-circuiting of the brain makes it really hard for rational thoughts to form and for the brain to tell your mouth not to say stupid shit.

"In a way I'm actually kind of jealous that they fuck so much, and that they are so into each other that they don't care about leaving us out here together. I haven't had sex in like, months, from classes and labs and work, I got so caught up in everything else I kind of forgot that sex was a thing? Like I can handle myself, so, if anything, this is like foreplay for me for when I get home."

What the fuck? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

I squeezed my eyes closed, chugging the rest of my beer. There wasn't even a second of uncomfortable silence before I heard a sound, a sound that I have never heard come from him before. He was cackling. Full on, heartedly cackling.  

"What the fuck?" Bakugou laughed with full gusto, eyes tightly shut one hand on his stomach with the other holding his beer to the coffee table. "Fucking Valentine, what the hell is wrong with you." He gasped out.

For a second, I almost forgot how embarrassed I was, his laugh was so distracting. The cackle faded into light giggles, and he looked sinful and cute all at the same time. It got worse when he tipped his bottle back to his lips, all the while still looking at me.

Panicking, I reached for my bag that was thrown on the floor in front of me, grabbing it quickly and shooting up from the couch I spoke, "Okay. I think I'm just going to go. I'll text Mina when I get home." I turned slightly, and bowed to him, "Always a pleasure, Bakugou."

He threw out his arm, latching his hand around my wrist. "Why the fuck are you being so weird tonight Valentine? Its barely even ten 'o'clock, and you aren't leaving me out here alone to listen to them fuck like rabbits." He pulled my wrist down hard, making my body slam back into the couch. Landing right on the edge of the sofa, near him. So close that my clothed knee brushed his. "Plus," he leaned in, pushing my shoulders back, so I was slumped. "I know you won't get that far. I know that shitty hair is your ride home because all the shuttles stop running at nine."

Breathing out a nervous huff, "Okay." Typically, I wasn't such an awkward person, or at least I usually don't feel this uncomfortable. It's just Bakugou: transparent, loud, blunt, and angry Bakugou. The Bakugou who often doesn't even think twice about my presence. "Okay." God. What could I do in this moment not to think about how hot his knee feels pressed against mine? To make me not notice that he smells like fucking caramel and spice? Anything for me just to fucking relax and stop feeling my heart in my throat. Then, it clicked, the perfect idea to loosen up and enjoy this rare moment. I shrugged my bag off my shoulder, turning slightly to shuffle through the contents. Turning back to him with my hands full and a sly smile, I buzzed, "Do you want me to roll us a blunt while you get us another beer?"

It felt like it had been decades since I've seen that feral grin of his, and my heartbeat slowed immediately. For this split second, everything felt like it had every other time we hung out as a group, the only difference is that I proposed the idea instead of our good buddy Sero.

Shaking my grinder from side-to-side, I grab the two different cigar wraps. "Mango or tropical fruit?"

Bakugou walked around me, deciding to sit right next to me on the couch instead of the chair he was just occupying. Twisting both lids of the beer, he tossed the caps on the table, taking a quick swig out of before setting them both down. "Mango, definitely mango. I fucking hate the way the tropical tastes."

Making a mental note, I set the grinder down and opened the mango cigarillos, sliding one of them into my hand. "Can I see your pocketknife?" Without hesitation, Bakugou straightened his legs and lifted his butt to dig into his front pocket. He whipped the red plated knife, opened it, and handed it to me. Taking it in one movement, I carefully sliced a straight line from one end to another before dumping the tobacco into the ashtray on Mina's coffee table.

"I didn't realize you even knew how to roll a blunt." Glancing back over my right shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Bakugou? I've never seen you roll one either; actually, I don't think I've ever seen you take more than one hit." I refocused on the task in front of me, knowing that his face was probably red from anger and a little bit of embarrassment. I've been an awkward mess since Mina and Kiri left the room, but now that I feel a bit in my element, teasing him is a little fun.  

"Oi, fuck you. I may have never done it, but I guarantee you I can roll better than you." He lightly slapped my arm with the back of his hand, making sure not to jerk me too much. "and I don't like to do it often, not as often as you fucking potheads. It always makes it difficult to run the mornings after."

"Hmm," I mumbled and nodded my head as I licked across the top of the wrapper, sealing the bud in tight. "Grab the lighter from my bag please. And I get it, it's not your thing, but it helps me get creative and eases my anxiety. Plus, it kind of made me feel included when I first met you guys." I grabbed the lighter from his hand, lighting the pinched end. "I know that might be weird, but Kaminari and Sero were the easiest to please, and it seemed weed was the right way to do it." I turned my body sideways, folding my legs, so they laid on top of the left thigh. I held my breath for a second, making sure it was fine with him and brought the blunt to my lips when he let his arm fall over the couch on the side of me.

Sucking in the smoke and holding it for a couple seconds, I handed it to him. Puffing out the smoke towards the ceiling and not his face. Instead of responding, he immediately took his hit, coughing a little bit in the process. "It's easy to please dunce face and the other moron. I wouldn't take too much pride in it."

"Hey! I do take pride in it! You guys are a really great group of people, and I was excited to be a part of it and get to know everyone." I took another puff. "It's not my fault that they are simple creatures and are easy to talk too, unlike some people," I spoke with a small smile on my lips, hoping that he didn't take offense and saw that I was just teasing. Flirting even.  

He took the blunt from me, taking two puff back to back. "I'm not that fucking hard to talk to, and I'm fucking grateful I'm not fucking simple like those extras." He immediately started to giggle while he pulled in another drag before handing it back to me. I could help but join him. Not only because I could feel that I was a little high already, but also because he wasn't totally wrong. Now that I was loosened up and a little bit inhibited, he was comfortable and even fun to talk to too.

"Okay, okay. Enough about everyone else." I moved my legs from their folded position and straightened them across his lap. I sucked in a breath when he relaxed his other arm over my legs. "I want to get to know you. Let's play twenty questions, whoever has the blunt has to ask the questions and the other answers, good?" I asked breezily.

"Fine, let's do this shitty girl."

Bakugou and I spent the next thirty minutes, passing the blunt back and forth and asking each other different questions. It was almost surreal considering how awkward I was with him not even an hour ago, but now I am so glad I didn't leave out of embarrassment. Turns out he isn't as transparent and angry and harsh as I thought, and it seemed that deep down this boy was soft. And now I am so much more fucking soft for him.

Bakugou took in the last hit before cashing the roach in the tray. Leaning towards me until our faces were close together, he said with a sly smirk "I will say, and remember this because I will never compliment you or that fucker again, but you rolled that blunt way fucking better than Sero, and he rolls a decent blunt."

I moved in closer, so that our noses brushed together, my breath hitched as a giggled out, "Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?"

"You aren't bad, Valentine, not bad at all." He pulled away and settled back into the couch, his hands gripping my calves. "Roll another."

So I did.

[whitetigerdemoness]

This chapter took longer because when I started it, I realized I had accidentally written myself into a corner. I think I got out of it in a believable way but we’ll see.

They say the pen is mightier than the sword. Penknight, having an absolute galaxy brain, thought ‘If I have both I must be unstoppable” 

Master post of all chapters

The silence in the penthouse room was broken only by the heartbroken sobbing of Ladybug, drowning out the cries of the various kwami. Marc barely registered Penknight gently guiding him to sit on the floor, in shock from the horrible images.

“It’s not him, Ladybug. It’s not-that’s not Chatnoir. It can’t be if they took his ring! Ladybug-shit.” Penknight hissed, leaping to his feet and drawing his sword. Marc hissed inward through his teeth when he saw what had drawn the akuma’s attention. Wiggling their way through the seams in the balcony doors was a horde of red butterflies. No one had to guess who they were after.

“Creation!” Penknight shouted, stabbing the doors. They, along with the windows, twisted into themselves cutting off the insects entry point. The few that had slipped through were swiftly sliced out of the air by the akuma, who was unaffected by their power by virtue of already being occupied by one of them. There were too many though. Viperion saw the errant bug the same time Marc did and hunched over Ladybug, trying to shield her with his body. Marc knew it wouldn’t be enough. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he lunged.

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“Ah, Reverser. How good to see you again.” Scarlet Hawkmoth purred in his ear. Ladybug’s horrified, tear-streaked face was so close to his he could feel her breath. “Fitting that you should be the one to bring me Ladybug’s miraculous. After all the reverse of constant defeat is victory.” And the opposite of panic is calm, Reverser thought to himself.

“Reversion.” He said, reaching out to touch Ladybug’s face.

“Stay away from her!” Viperion shouted, knocking him back as Ladybug slumped in his arms. Penknight snarled and leapt at the snake hero, sparks flying when his sword met Viperion’s lyre. Reverser heard Chloe shout her transformation phrase, but he had other concerns. 

“What was broken should become whole.” He said, touching his leg. He noticed his black half was now red, like he had been drenched in blood. He didn’t like it.

“Viperion, Penknight, stop. I’m ok. Are you ok?” Ladybug asked Reverser, her voice emotionless. He nodded and stood.

“What did you do to her, Reverser?” Queen Bee demanded, keeping Sabrina behind her. Scarlet Hawkmoth echoed her in his head.

“He calmed me down, which I sorely needed. Seeing the Master and...what looked like Chatnoir dead took my sense from me. If Reverser hadn’t used his powers on me, I would be akumatized.” She said, glancing at the remaining butterflies uselessly battering the sealed doors.

“Why would he do that? Akuma don’t just help people out of the kindness of their non-existent hearts.” Queen Bee accused, ignoring Penknight when he coughed.

“Why wouldn't I?” Reverser asked, taking Penknight’s arm. “When I first became Reverser, it was because I wanted Nathaniel to accept me. He does now. My...drive? I guess you could call it, is gone.” Penknight beamed at him, leaning down slightly to touch foreheads.

“Hopefully some of the other Akuma feel the same way and decide to help us instead of Scarlet Hawkmoth.” Ladybug said, glancing back at the still playing news coverage.

‘You will not be one of them.’ Scarlet Hawkmoth growled in Reverser’s mind. He gasped as intense pain stabbed at his chest. He had to act fast, there wasn’t much time. Gathering what he could of his power as Scarlet Hawkmoth tore at him, Reverser grabbed Penknight by the back of his head and made one last reversion.

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Marc clenched his eyes shut as he waited for the vermilion butterfly to over take him. The sensation was warmer than he remembered, and there was a strange pressure on his lips. Wait, what? Marc’s eyes shot open as he stumbled back (vaguely noticing the pain in his leg was gone), hands on his mouth. Penknight gave him a dopey grin that slowly turned thoughtful. 

“You did something to me.” The akuma said, thoughtfully touching his own lips.

“I’ll say.” Queen Bee snorted. When had she transformed? What happened to Ladybug? Marc spotted the uh, spotted heroine near the tv looking much better. Oh. He had already been akumatized and cured. That was fast.

“We’ll have to worry about that later.” Ladybug said. She gestured to the tv, where an akuma Marc had never seen before had taken over the broadcast. They were a man, wearing a white wolf skin cloak, the head of the beast covering their own. The akuma had a hooked staff, the crook gleaming sharply.

“Citizens of Paris! I am the Shepherd. For too long have these so called ‘heroes’ been aloud to run free. Join me in aiding Scarlet Hawkmoth to end this terrorist threat! Join the ranks of the Office of Akuma Affairs, claim your rightful power, and turn Paris into Akuma City!” An image of Penknight and Prism from the fateful interview yesterday flashed onto the screen. “A reward for the race-traitor calling himself ‘Penknight’ and his now human bride is being offered to the heroes who bring me their heads!”

“Bride? That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think? We haven’t even had a real date yet.” Penknight mused as Shepard continued to rant. Marc buried his face in his hands and groaned. 

“Great, now there’s an entire city full of akumas after me.”

“I’ll protect you.” Penknight promised. 

“Marc will be able to protect himself. The reason I came here was to gather allies, and now that the enemy is doing the same that goal is more important than ever. I am going to need all of you to keep the akumas at bay while I find the other heroes so we can, hopefully, rescue Chatnoir.” Ladybug said, holding out two miraculous. 

“Sabrina, Marc, these are the miraculous of the dog and the goat. Use them to protect Paris. When the mission is over, you must return them to me.” 

“Oh my gosh! Of course Ladybug!” Sabrina squealed, accepting the miraculous. The dog kwami zoomed over to her and began excitedly describing his powers.

“My name is Barkk, and I’m the kwami of loyalty! With my power, fetch, you can move an ally out of danger and to your side! To transform say, ‘Barkk, join the pack!’” Sabrina looked elated, while Chloe looked proud. Their friendship might be weird, Marc thought, but it was genuine. Where Sabrina had eagerly accepted, he hesitated.

“Are you sure Ladybug? I’m not exactly a fighter.” He really, really wasn’t. Just the thought of going into combat terrified him. 

“Me either really. That’s probably why Ladybug is pairing us.” The goat Kwami said. “I’m the kwami of dreams, I hate fighting. Sometimes though we have to fight if we want to protect all the beautiful dreams of peace.” Marc held out his hands so the little kwami could sit.

“You won’t need to fight with me around.” Penknight boasted, resting his sword on his shoulder and posing. For some reason the display made Marc incredibly sad. Up til now he had been thinking of Penknight as just Nathaniel, but more bold. That really wasn’t true, was it? The akuma might be part of who Nathaniel was, but he was missing all the other parts that made Nathaniel Nathaniel. Marc couldn’t leave him like this, and if defeating Hawkmoth was the only way then…

“I’m Ziggy, and I think we’re going to be friends.” The goat said, sensing his determination. “My power, sweet dreams, lets you send someone into a trance where their fondest dream is lived out. To transform say, ‘Ziggy, start counting!’”. Marc accepted the miraculous from Ladybug, then paused. What was he going to do with hair clips? His hair really wasn’t long enough to hold them in place. He clipped them to the top of his hoodie instead.

“Ok, Barkk, join the pack!” Sabrina’s hero outfit was, cute, in a word. She was predominantly brown and white, with a pair of floppy ears. A wagging tail (was it real?) was attached to the back of shorts that ended mid thigh. Oversized gloves looked like paws, the pads of her fingers pink. Her weapon seemed to be a...frisbee? Well, it fit with the theme. “I think my name will be...Retriever!” The newly dubbed heroine looked at Marc expectantly. Actually the whole room did. Oh boy, time to do this, he guessed.

“Z-Ziggy, start counting.” The transformation washed over him like warm sunshine. Oh, this felt much better than being akumatized. Marc looked down at himself to see a black and white body suit. That seemed to be a theme with his transformations. The two parts of his miraculous had come together to form clasps that secured a black, cottony cloak. Marc felt his head. The hood was up and were those...horns? He gave the curved objects a tug, feeling his skull tug back in protest. Sweet kwami, they were real. The final part of his getup was a wooden shepherd's crook that seemed to leave a trail of glittery light when it moved. Now that he thought about it, his bodysuit was a bit shinier than the other heroes too. Marc made a face, was it because he was gay? He definitely had some mixed feelings on this.

“Wow, they’re going to be able to see you coming a mile away.” Queen Bee helpfully commented. “Well, what are we calling you sparkles?” That was a good question. Ziggy had sad they were the kwami of dreams, right? Marc watched the light falling from his staff wink out on the carpet.

“...Stardust.” He decided. Chloe sniggered slightly. Penknight used his creation to dump about a gallon of actual glitter on her. “Now they’ll see you too.” He hmphed as she shrieked. 

“The extra visibility is a good thing seeing as we’re going to be distractions while Ladybug gets the rest of the team.” Viperion pointed out while Ladybug nodded.

“It shouldn’t take me long to find them, I know where most of them should be this early in the morning. I’m only going to spend half an hour looking. If I haven’t found everyone by then who we have will just have to do.” Ladybug turned to observe the few butterflies still floating about outside. She seemed too calm for the situation, considering how distraught she had been previously. Stardust wondered what had happened in the short time he had been akumatized to make her like that.

“Is everyone ready?” Ladybug asked. 

“As we’ll ever be.” Viperion said, backed up by nods from the rest. Ladybug smiled briefly, readying her yoyo.

“Alright heroes, let’s take back our city.”

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter, but I think I’m going to stop strictly writing every chapter of a story at 3k words, I’ve found it really restricting. It’s 2.4k. Also, keep sending in your thoughts of who you want the romantic relationship to be with in this story, I want to make sure I’m writing something that you guys are interested in reading.

LOST IN TRANSLATION ↳What do you do when you have no qualifications but want to see the world? You help teach English in a Korean primary school, apparently. ↳Principal!Jin, math teacher!Yoongi, PE teacher!Hoseok, English teacher!Namjoon, school nurse!Jimin, art teacher!Taehyung, and science teacher!Jungkook.

CHAPTER THREE ↳You prepare for your first day of actually teaching at the school, and are let in on a well-kept secret.

The nurse’s house was small and cozy, and you were sure one day in the near future you’d go around and explore all the nooks and crannies and details that made it special, but for now you were just trying not to fall asleep in your soup.

He had insisted pretty much the second you got in his car and went to thank him for letting you stay that you should call him Jimin, not Nurse Park, and that was fine with you. It felt more comfortable living with a ‘Jimin’ than a ‘Nurse’.

In fact, comfortable was certainly a word you were beginning to associate with him in general. He blasted the heaters the whole way home, spoke softly and slowly, introduced you to his cuddly cat Miso, sat you down on his couch with a blanket while he heated up some beef broth, and was now walking you through a welcome package he had prepared.

“My house doesn’t have very good heating, so I got you some bed socks and a heat pad. Heat pads are very popular here in Korea, do you know what they are?” You nod with a soft smile, a little overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness. “Oh, good! This one is for the microwave, too, so you can use it over and over again. Next I got you a SIM card, it’s got 500 texts a month and 1GB of data, hopefully that’s enough, and here is an adaptor, I googled what plugs they use in your country and got an adaptor so you can plug your stuff in to our walls, and then here’s some traditional Korean candy, I thought you might like to try some, this flavor is my favorite, actually, but the most popular one is…”

You could cry with how kind he’s being, and it sure is tempting, but you bury it down with a spoonful of salty, rich broth and resort to thanking him profusely every time he pauses to take a breath.

Once he collects up all the gifts into a little basket, he stands back up and holds a hand out to you. “You must be tired, I’ll show you around quickly and you can have a sleep if you want. I need to get back to work, I’m sorry.”

“Of course!” You put the empty bowl down on the table and take his hand with your non-sprained one, letting him tug you upright and lead you down the hall.

“Clearly, this is the living room, just across there is the kitchen and dining room, and let’s go down the hall, I’ll show you the rest. Okay, bathroom, toilet, laundry. I’m sorry, but I only have one bathroom, so we’ll need to share.”

“Oh, it’s fine! Thank you.”

He beams at you, cheeks puffing out, and places a hand on your back. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m very happy you’re here.”

You blush at that comment and allow him to point out his bedroom quickly before opening the door to your room, directly across the hallway from his.

“I know it’s not much, but I’ve put the heater in here and given you some extra blankets too. I bought a desk and bookcase from the secondhand store, so hopefully they should be okay. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You shake your head. “This is…very much. You are very nice, Jimin.”

He deflects the compliment with a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I need to go back to the school now, but help yourself to anything in the kitchen, have a shower or a bath if you want, have a sleep. Wi-Fi password is written on the fridge.”

You expect him to take his leave and lock the door behind you since he was probably already missing more time than he should, but before he turned away, he pulled you into a quick hug.

He’s barely taller than you, and when he takes you in his arms his chin tucks into the side of your neck, so that you can feel the vibration in his throat on your skin. “I’m really glad you’re here, honestly.”

He pulls away, red-faced, and quickly dashes down the hallway, snatching his keys off the table and shutting the door firmly behind him.

You stand, still in your bedroom, bewildered. You didn’t realize Koreans were that quick to be so friendly, or maybe it was just him.

At any rate, your jet-lagged brain was too filled with cotton to do anything but collapse on the single bed and fall into a deep sleep.

“Wake up, wake up!”

You groan at the cheery voice and let out a yawn, eyes still squeezed firmly shut. “No, not yet. Give me five more minutes.”

A pause. “Uh, I don’t understand what you said, but you should probably get up.”

Wait. Who was that? You huff slowly out your nose as the events of the past day catch up on you. The plane, the school, the other teachers. Jimin’s house.

Your eyes shoot open. “Oh, I’m sorry! Why- uh what, what time is it?”

You sit yourself up, rubbing at your eyes and squinting in the bright bedroom light. Jimin’s sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at you, wearing raggedy plaid pajamas. His hair is matted down on one side and sticking up on the other like he’s just woken up. He smiles serenely down at you. “It’s just after half past six, I thought you might need some time to get ready this morning. I usually leave home at 7:30.”

You sigh and it morphs into another yawn. You slept for over 12 hours? Jet lag really had it out for you. You went to reply but were cut off by the unmistakable sound of your stomach grumbling noisily.

Jimin grins cheekily at the way you blush. “I’ll make breakfast for us while you get dressed.”

“Yes, thank you.” You wait until he leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind him, before getting up to put some work-appropriate clothes on, still thudding around like a zombie.

One suede skirt and linen blouse later, you pad out to the kitchen, hearing more than one voice. Jimin has his back to you, stirring at a steaming pot on the stove, and a man you vaguely recognize from yesterday sitting at the table.

The young man glances up when you approach slowly and flashes you a toothy smile. “Ah, sleeping beauty! You ready to eat?”

You nod and laugh awkwardly, not wanting to admit you had forgotten his name. He scooted his chair over to give you room and you sat down. “Do you be here? Um, you live here?”

Jimin scoffed, beginning to plate up three bowls of a creamy looking porridge. “Basically.” He held a bowl in each hand, cradling the third against his chest, and joined them at the table. “Jungkook lives next door, but he’s always coming here for free food and a ride to the school,” he clarified.

You nodded. “Oh, I understand.” You let Jimin hand out the bowls, Jungkook taking his from Jimin and immediately digging in like an animal, and you giving Jimin an awkward little head-bow upon receiving yours.

The porridge is hot but thick, almost gelatinous, and it’s got a hint of something savory in it. Unlike anything you’ve tried before, but quite effective in warming and filling your stomach for the day. “You cook well, Jimin,” you compliment.

He blushes and fiddles with his spoon, eyes squinting into crescents. “Ah, thank you, Y/n, I’m glad someone appreciates me.” He throws Jungkook a playful glare. “I think I like her much better than you already, she’s so polite. You might have to find a new hyung if you don’t start being more grateful.”

Jungkook ignores him and leans over to you, stage-whispering conspiratorially. “I know you’re just being nice because he’s giving you a place to stay. If you get sick of him, you can always come over and stay with me.”

“This kid,” Jimin interjects, “he couldn’t take care of a dead frog long enough to dissect it! Don’t listen to him.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and rocks back on the legs of his chair. “For the last time, it was meant to turn that color! Basic biology, I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

“Jungkook, I went to medical school.”

“You didn’t go to medical school for frogs!”

Jimin finishes his bowl and chucks the spoon down with a dramatic shake of his head. “I fear for the children, Jung-ah, I really do.”

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, but it’s almost 7:30.”

In perfect time, their heads shot towards the clock on Jimin’s wall and they swore, rushing to the kitchen to dump their plates.

Apparently, on a Tuesday, there were three English classes, but the first period was free, so you were quickly herded to the staffroom, which you hadn’t seen earlier but was in the back of the reception room, by Jimin before he left to go start working.

The staffroom was basically a little kitchenette and a couple couches, but the heater was on blast and they had a little container of hot chocolate powder in the coffee and tea cabinet, so you were happy.

As you got yourself settled, you were prepared for forty-five minutes of sitting alone and doing nothing, but just as you took your first delightful sip of hot chocolate, the door opened and in walked one of the other teachers.

You remember him as the one who openly insulted your Korean level in front of his whole class and the principal, and he makes no effort to smile at you as he drearily makes himself a black coffee and slumps down on the couch opposite.

“You aren’t teaching?” you offer up nervously when the awkward silence becomes too much for you.

He gives you a droll look. “Of course I’m teaching. That’s why I’m here instead of in my classroom.”

You pout into your hot chocolate. “Maybe that is why children hating math. Their teacher is so grumpy.”

His lip twitches and he pokes his tongue into the side of his mouth. “Maybe if I could understand what you were saying, I’d be able to respond to it.”

You huff petulantly. “You speak English and then you know it’s hard and not be mean.”

He raises a lazy eyebrow, taking a slow drag of his coffee. “Wow, what an inspiring lesson for the children. Learn English and you won’t be mean anymore. Unfortunately, it hasn’t worked for me.”

You close your mouth after it had been hanging open. “I agree. I think you are just the Grinch or Scrooge.”

You’re shocked when, instead of a glare, he laughs openly, exposing a surprisingly cute gummy smile. He composes himself quickly, levelling his dark eyebrows at you. “You should be nicer to your elders, you know. What if Principal Kim heard you speaking to me like that?”

“Principal Kim already knows,” you answer confidently, “he is agreeing with me about you.”

Teacher Min shakes his head one last time and stands up, finishing his coffee in two lazy gulps and leaves the dirty cup in the sink, ignoring the laminated sign that explicitly read ‘do not leave dirty dishes in the sink, use the dishwasher’.

He turns back to you with a cheeky glimmer in his eyes. “Do me a favor, ask the English teacher about Rap Monster.”

You frown. “What?”

He just taps the side of his nose. “He’ll know.”

Very shortly after the math teacher took his leave, the door was bursting open again, this time revealing the energetic phys ed teacher with a look of caution in his eyes. “Is he gone?”

“Who?”

“Teacher Min, has he left yet?”

You nod with a confused look on your face. “Yes. Why?”

His face relaxes and he grins at you as he makes his way over to the small fridge. “I have a bet with Seokjin.”

“What is this word, bet?”

His voice is muffled as he roots around in the fridge. “It’s like a challenge. If I do the challenge, I get a prize, but if I fail, Principal Kim gets the prize. Ah!” He emerges triumphantly holding a bulky plastic box with a padlock dangling from it.

“What is that?” you ask incredulously.

“Yoongi, sorry, teacher Min’s snack stash.”

“With that thing on it?”

“The lock?” Teacher Jung beams at you and produces a key. “Don’t worry, I found this in his desk in the math room.”

You bite your lip, watching him jimmy off the lock and open up the box to reveal a little lunchbox of leftovers, meat, vegetables, rice. “But why?”

Hoseok sifts through, pulling out some skewers of meat to begin chewing on, still cold. He talks through a mouthful. “If I eat Yoongi’s lunch every day for two weeks without him realizing who it is, Principal Kim is going to give me a raise.”

You watch him chow down on the math teacher’s lunch with a befuddled expression. “He is paying you more money for you steal food from another teacher?”

Teacher Jung swallowed. “Yes.”

“I think that is maybe a mean thing.”

He gives you a soft smile but wastes no time before diving into the next thing, a little tub of rice. “Don’t worry, I bring some food from home for him to have. It’s not about stealing his lunch, it’s about stealing his lunch without getting caught. It’s very exciting.”

He holds a pair of chopsticks out to you and you shake your head, although you are beginning to see the humor of it. “How long have you do this already?”

“Today is Day 7,” he declares proudly, “only three to go. Although, he is starting to get clever.” A thought occurs to him and he furrows his brows. “You can’t tell teacher Min! Nobody else knows except me, Seokjin, and you now. I’m trusting you.”

You nod dutifully. “I have your secret.”

He grins. “Good. Anyway, ho-”

He’s interrupted by the clanging of a far-off bell signaling the end of class. “You have English now, right?” he asked. “You should probably get going. Do you need me to take you there?”

You stand up and put your cup in the dishwasher. “I think I am good, thank you. Goodbye.”

He waves you off cheerily, attention already half-taken up by putting the padlock back on the box and returning it to the fridge completely empty. As you walked out the door, you saw him pull out a plain lunchbox with a post-it note on top that read ‘for Yoongi, got you again!’ in extremely careful, nondescript handwriting, shoving it in the fridge in front of the empty box.

You’re grinning to yourself all the way to your first class of the year.

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[fandomfanfics12]

We Are A Family-part 23

Title: We Are A Family. Pairings: Steve x tony, Peter x Wade, Nat x Clint, Sam x Bucky. Part: 23/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slowburn. Summary: When Nat comes into the avengers tower with baby Peter Parker, the avengers didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. But now that Peter is here,Steve and Tony both feel protective over him. It doesn’t help that Peter hates everyone other than Steve and tony. But as Steve and tony raise Peter, they start to fall for one another. Will this superfamily work out or will it all turn to hell? A/N: so it’s starting to look like i’m going to get more free time this year which should (fingers crossed) hopefully mean i’ll be able to update this fic more. also thanks for your patience, i’m such a slow righter lol. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22

It was almost unfair. That tony’s life and his marriage was falling apart, just as Clint and Natasha got to start their marriage. He knew Steeve had been shocked when Tony had given in so easily. But maybe Bucky was right, maybe Tony and Steve weren’t meant to be together. But through all of this, in the back of Tony’s mind, he couldn’t help but think, this can’t be over because I’m still in love with you.

“I’m so sorry Tony.” Steve whispered and for once, he had the look of love and adoration that Steve had always worn when looking at Tony. It was only there for a second before he looked away.

“What are we going to tell Peter?” Tony asked softly, Steve sighed and shrugged.

“He already knows that I cheated, I’m sure he already hates me, so I’ll deliver the news.” Tony shook his head.

“no. I’ll do it.” Tony hated the idea of his kid finding out without him being there. Peter would need Tony through this, Tony wouldn’t back out on his son now.

“we could do it together?” Steve offered and Tony squeezed his eyes shut. together.

“okay.” It seemed that Tony’s brain was now on autopilot. Anything else was too much.

“Steve?” Tony asked suddenly and Steve looked back at him.

“Yeah?” his voice was flat, his face stone, his eyes cold.

“Where did it go wrong?” Tony asked softly, he watched as an emotion floated to the surface of Steve’s face.

“I don’t know.” Then steve walked out of the house and tony resisted the urge to break down into tears.

The dinner was painfully awkward. Al had tried to ask about Peter’s dads again and Peter had shut them down instantly.

“they’re fine. Everything’s fine. They’ve just been working lots.” Both Wade and May shot him strange looks.

“Well that’s good.” Al then asked May a question and Peter allowed himself to zone out. He didn’t want to be at home but he certainly didn’t want to be in the middle of a dinner with Wade. Peter wondered if it was still too late to run.

“Is the food okay?” May asked and Peter forced himself to focus on reality.

“Yeah, it’s delicious.” May raised a brow at Peter’s food, he’d barely touched it.

“it is delicious May, thank you so much.” Wade told her and she smiled.

“Thank you Wade.” She said while glaring at Peter.

“it is delicious, now you boys run along, May and I have to catch up privately now.” Peter and Wade both rolled their eyes but stood, knowing it was better to follow Al’s orders than to ignore them. Peter and Wade dumped their dishes into the kitchen sink. Wade opened his mouth but Peter just walked out. He knew he was being an asshole, but he was allowing it for tonight. He just found out his pops had had an affair, his dads were probably going to break up and he hadn’t slept for the past two days.

“What’s going on Peter?” Wade asked and Peter groaned.

“Would you just leave me alone?” Peter asked and flopped onto the bottom bunk in the guest bedroom. May called it the guest bedroom, but it was really Peter’s room. Peter’s head hit a bag and he swore, when he pulled back he noticed it was Wade’s backpack.

“why is your stuff here?” Peter rubbed his forehead and Wade suddenly looked sheepish.

“May’s taking me in sort of.” Wade looked down at his feet.

“Taking you in?” Peter asked.

“Al asked her if I could stay here for the next six months and May agreed.”

“Six months?”

“It’s not a big deal Peter.”

“Six months is a big deal, what’s going on?” Peter asked and Wade took a deep breath. He began fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket and Peter knew to back down. He wasn’t ready to say whatever was going on.

“it’s-“ but it was clear he didn’t want to say it, so Peter interrupted

“It’s okay Wade, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Thanks Peter.” The room was silent and then Wade sat down on the bunk bed, Peter stared at the spot where his knee and Wade’s touched.

“still obsessed with wham?” Peter asked and he felt Wade relax.

“Best album of all time.” Peter rolled his eyes, but it was a relief. To know that even though everything in Peter’s world was changing and reshuffling, Wade was still the same.

“debateable.” Peter murmured and Wade bumped his shoulder into Peter’s.

“You’re such a dork.” It felt good to be smiling with Wade again. It felt good to simply be smiling.

“Why’d you take the bottom bunk?” Peter asked suddenly, and Wade began to fidget with his jacket sleeve again.

“A habit I guess.” Wade shrugged but Peter couldn’t help but smile. When they were younger, Peter always took the top bunk. Whenever he had nightmares he would jump up and stick to the roof, at least he didn’t wake up Wade then.

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole.” Peter said softly and he could feel Wade studying Peter’s profile.

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole.” Wade lifted hid head and looked at Peter. He’d forgotten how much he had missed Peter. How comforting it was to just be sitting beside him. Wade studied Peter’s profile, taking not of how exhausted he looked. He wished Peter would open up, tell him what’s going on. But things with Wade and Peter hadn’t been easy and good like that, not in a long time. Wade missed those days where he and Peter would just talk for hours on end about anything and everything.

“Peter…” but Wade trailed off, watching as if the world was in slow motion, as Peter looked at Wade.

“Yeah?” Peter’s big brown eyes were wide and studying Wade’s face. Wade memorised Peter’s face and hung his head.

“why did we stop talking?” Wade wondered, but he knew that answer.

“You were popular and when push came to shove, you chose your popular friends over me.” Peter shrugged and Wade shook his head.

“But you were my best friend.” He whispered, Peter didn’t hear it.

“But you’ve got Flash and I’ve got Ned and we’re both exactly where we’re meant to be.” Peter was now staring at the roof. Wade wanted to tell Peter that he missed him, missed their friendship. But the words died in his throat.

“Yeah, exactly where we’re meant to be.” Wade echoed, not believing it.

Steve wanted to scream, he tried to break the barriers in his mind, but he was trapped. He couldn’t tell tony the truth, he couldn’t tell anyone the truth. He’d tried talking to natasha and clint and bruce and any avenger he could find, but the words died in his throat every time. He’d tried to write it down, but his hand would just throw the pen across the room. He couldn’t communicate this to anyone other than Bucky, who was just as trapped as Steve was.

“Dammit.” Steve grunted as his hand suddenly spasmed, sending the pen across the room.

“Pops?” it was Peter’s voice and Steve inhaled sharply.

“hey Peter.” Steve forced himself to smile, but he couldn’t manage it.

“Can I talk to you?” Peter asked and Steve forced himself to nod.

“of course, what’s going on?” Peter let out a deep sigh.

“Dad told me, about you and Bucky. I want to know, are you guys getting a divorce?” Peter asked and Steve felt his stomach twist and churn.

“Tony and I agreed we’d have that conversation with you together.” Steve told him gently.

“I want to know now.” Peter said firmly and Steve swallowed. He twisted his wedding ring and took a deep shaky breath.

“it wasn’t an easy decision Peter.” Steve murmured soflty.

“So you’re breaking up?” Peter’s voice was shaking and Steve squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s not as simple as you think.” Steve told him.

“Then explain to me how complicated it is. How could you do this?” Peter demanded and Steve began shaking.

“Peter-“

“Tell me how you could ruin our family!” Peter hissed and Steve felt tears prick his eyes.

“I didn’t want to ruin our family.” Steve swore but he knew Peter didn’t believe him.

“so you were hoping you wouldn’t get caught?”

“No! I didn’t plan on this Peter!” Peter shook his head.

“you’re despicable! How could you hurt dad like this? He loved you more than anything in the whole world! How could you?” Peter was crying and Steve was crying and then Peter walked out. Steve put a hand on his mouth, trying not to let the sounds of his sobbing escape. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that he was losing them and he couldn’t stop it.

It got worse with each passing day, the arguing just got worse and worse. Tony and steve didn’t mean to argue, but it just kept happening. Steve had moved out into the guest bedroom and Tony found he could no longer fall asleep without Steve lying beside him. Peter kept coming home to only hear Steve and Tony in the middle of a screaming match, he would simply say he was staying at May’s. then Peter was gone. Tony felt horrifically guilty for this. Peter no longer felt comfortable being at home and Steve could barely stand to be in the same room as Tony. There was a knock at the door and when Tony went to answer it was May standing in the doorway.

“May?” Tony raised a brow but she was scowling.

“We need to talk.” With a sigh, Tony let her in.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Do you want to tell me why I’ve got Peter staying at my apartment every other night?” May demanded and Tony sighed.

“Steve and i…” Tony trailed off and May crossed her arms.

“What about you and Steve? Because I’ve got a seventeen year old kid showing up at my apartment every night, freaking out because his dads can’t pull their heads out of their asses! I gave Peter to you and Steve because I couldn’t provide the life Peter deserved. So please explain to me what is going on.” May was furious and she had every right to be. Tony twisted his wedding ring and took several deep and steadying breaths.

“Steve cheated on me with Bucky.” He watched as May’s face softened and she gave him the look of pity.

“I’m so sorry Tony.” Her voice was soft and gentle, it made tony want to scream.

“Don’t pity me. I’ll be alright. But Steve and I are getting a divorce, there’s no point dragging it out. He wants to be with Bucky.” Tony twisted the ring again and May noticed.

“What do you want?” she asked and Tony squeezed his eyes shut.

“Steve. That answer will always be Steve, but I have to do what’s right by Steve and Peter. Steve wants Bucky and there’s no point keeping Steve trapped in this marriage. It will only hurt everyone.” May nodded.

“So why is it that Peter keeps coming over?” she asked and Tony ran a hand through his hair.

“Because Steve and I argue every night. We don’t mean to, but it just sort of happens. He said he’ll move out some time next week.” May nodded her head and Tony wanted to run and hide.

“so who gets custody of Peter?” May asked.

“We’re going to share. It’s only one year, there’s no point going to court about who get’s Peter.” May nodded her head.

“I’m so sorry that you’re going through this Tony.” She whispered.

“it is what it is.”