#and then you fixate on one guy for months on end while splitting a lot due to a whole bunch of shit happening

[thethingything]

every so often I get really tempted to see how many of the doubles of my source we can have co-fronting at the same time just to see what would happen. I'm pretty sure we'd just get really blurry because that's what happens after a while when I co-front with Sylvain, but like, would we all just vibe or would it be absolute chaos

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

[bakugohoex]

part one: “you want to sleep on the floor”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: university student y/n, implicit nsfw, fluff and language

word count: 3400+

a/n: this is dedicated to the one anon who was super sweet to me yesterday, all of your support means the world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed this 

summary: in which you’re neighbours with pro hero katsuki bakugo, one night your roommate and her boyfriend get a bit too loud, with no where else to turn you end up in the apartment of bakugo’s, sleeping beside him you both realise the hidden feelings between one another 

part two 

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The bed squeaked and headboard banging against the wall, moans filled the apartment and the sound of ongoing thrusts erupted out of one single room. You hadn’t slept in hours, the sound from your roommates room vibrating against the whole apartment.

What was even worse, was not just having both your rooms side by side, meaning every time the man thrusted back and forth inside of her you could hear her bed hit the wall, no it wasn’t just that, it was the fact this had been going on for hours now.

You saw the digital clock indicate three am, how could one couple go at it for two hours straight, better yet who gets horny at one am and thinks lets having a fuck session whilst their roommate is next door.

Well your friend clearly did, it wasn’t like you wanted to interrupt them, they hadn’t seen each other in a while and deserved something. But at the expense of your sleep, it was a lot more than you had expected. You had prayed they would stop but the moans of his name continued, and it seemed like they would never stop anytime soon.  

You swung your legs off your bed, yawning as the stars filled the sky, you would go to the balcony, probably try and fall asleep outside if it was summer, but it wasn’t. It was fucking winter and you could see the snow form on top of the window ledge. There was always the sofa, you put a hoodie on your body, covering the short shirt and bottoms you wore, dragging your duvet to the sofa.

Staring up at the ceiling, trying to gain some sleep, you hoped the noise of their maniac sex would calm down. But to your luck, the noise seemed to get even more louder, as if they had left the door open. You really did not need to hear the consistent grunting and moaning coming from your friend and her boyfriend. You knew tomorrow morning you wouldn’t be able to face them after the night they were having.

You were cynical, the last time you had sex being months ago. You were touch deprived and even worse the crush on your pro hero neighbour made it worse, when you’d go in the early mornings to the balcony or get your mail, you’d see the man.

He’s be sweaty from some sort of training, his black vest always clinged onto his body perfectly. He was like a renaissance art piece, he deserved to be in a museum. You tried to think about him, to get rid of the sound of your roommate, you had had an encounter with him in the morning. He had come back from an early morning run and you had gone to get the mail. Flicking through it Bakugo called your name to make sure the elevator didn’t go without him.

The pro hero was drenched in sweat and his long-sleeved running shirt clung to all his muscles, the shorts and leggings he wore underneath sticking to his thigh muscles. It was a sight for sore eyes, and you tried to not stare. “Hey Bakugo.”

You spoke politely, he looked down at you flicking through the mail, mainly magazines and other shit. “Y/n.” He spoke coldly, how could you had a crush on such a cold man.

“I saw on the news about the villains you captured, it was cool.” You tried to converse; he raised an eyebrow crossing his arms.

“It was more than cool, I did it single handily, stupid extras didn’t even help.” He smirked as if he was reminiscing in the past nights action.

You looked up at him, his jaw clenched. “Oh well you didn’t need their help in the first place, did you?” You teased a grin on your face.

He saw you step out of the elevator about to answer but instead keeping quiet, you wish you had stopped walking waiting for an answer but your boldness at teasing had made you too flustered to wait. He often was cold to both you and your roommate, mainly your roommate who found the pro hero an irritant. You often saw his friends come back and forth out of his apartment; you were shocked at how his friends were a foil of the man.

He was angry and frustrated and red riot who you assumed was his best friend frequently visited. Your roommate hated the boy due to her theory that he looked down on commoners, you were studying to go into (any career) and you had been working hard. Was she right? Were you really nothing more than commoners needing to be saved.

Your thoughts turned to your roommate and you got out of your daze of the pro hero, you really couldn’t sleep with the grunts. Your best option was to find somewhere else to sleep for the rest of the night, you were glad it was Sunday the next day so you could have a lie in.

You thought of who you could text to ask if you could spend the night, most of your friends being their own university students with their own problems. Your finger lingered over Bakugo’s number before you decided to just straight up ask him if you could sleep on his sofa.

Leaving your duvet in your room, you unlocked the door of your apartment, quickly slipping out. You finally had some peace without having to hear any more vigorous thrusts, did he want to split her in half or something. You rested your head against the door, before pacing outside Bakugo’s door, the number nine on the side. You hesitated knocking, maybe you should’ve texted before knocking at his door at half three in the morning.

It was only by accident and your nerves that you quickly knocked on the door. Maybe he wouldn’t even hear it, it was early morning, and he could be sleeping. About to leave the door, you were met by the man, he was shirtless, only wearing some grey joggers. You were almost about to admire his body, but as he raised his eyebrow a ‘what’ coming from his mouth you started to spew out your thoughts.

“…so yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend have been fucking for nearly three hours now, and I need my sleep so can I like sleep on your sofa or floor” He raised an eyebrow, his arm was leaning against the top of the door, his height making it easy for him to reach. “It’s fine, if you’ve got no room, I can just go back and h…”

“Shut up and get inside.” You were shocked but quickly obliged, walking into his apartment.

It was not what you had expected, the same layout even with two bedrooms. “My spare room has my hero stuff in it, you want to sleep on the floor”

He was grinning at the idea of you sleeping on the floor, “I can sleep anywhere just not in a sex ridden apartment.”

“My bedrooms free.” He spoke, your face reddening.

“Umm…aren’t you s…sleeping there?” You asked not meeting his gaze.

He crossed his arms, his blond hair less spiky from sleeping. “We’re adults Y/n, we can sleep in the same bed.”

You nodded, not speaking out of fear you’d say something wrong. He walked towards the room as you followed in suit, “stay on your side and we should be fine.”

You nodded again, he went on his side, lying down bare in front of you. It was a sight, his room was boiling, you took your hoodie off he looked at you, trying to not see how your shirt rid to show your exposed stomach. He looked away just as your head popped out of the hoodie. You laid on your side, Bakugo’s broad shoulders made your own touch his as he was partially on your side.

“You have a nice apartment.” You complimented knowing the two of you were still awake facing the ceiling.

He huffed, side eyeing you, he watched as your brought the covers around your shoulders. “It’s exactly like yours, minus the horny roommate.”

You laughed at the comment, turning to face his body. You didn’t care if you both weren’t classed as friends, you were going to try and somehow become friends of sorts. “Who wouldn’t love a horny roommate?”

“Me, I need my space and defiantly cant handle being around sex noises, you should’ve shot them with your quirk or something.”

You hadn’t even told him what your quirk was, it was simple and useless in most situations. “I don’t think its possible for me to do that with my quirk.”

He raised an eyebrow still facing the ceiling, his arm had moved behind his back , you could see his arm muscles all on show, “oh yeah what is it then?”

“Guess.” You teased, stretching the word out. Bakugo finally faced you, he saw how your hair framed your face, your eyes looked tired, but you seemed more awake than you had when you had knocked on his door.

“Just tell me, shitty woman.” You pouted at the man.

“You’re no fun, I can create sparks from my fingertips, I know it’s lame, it’s why I’m at university.” Bakugo looked at you, you expected laughing to come from him, you had heard him call most people extras and those without quirks had been mocked by many people. You expected the same at your lame quirk.

“Can you show me?” He wasn’t acting the same, you ignored his calmness, putting your hand from under the cover. You rubbed your fingers together, a spark coming from each finger, it was like a firework sparkler and was painful to touch. But the application of it was never pro hero material.

His hand moved closer to it, “I would…” He did anyway, his finger touching the top, he quickly moved it away after feeling it for less than a second.

“Oww, Y/n what the fuck? It stings.” You laugh, making the sparks go away, grabbing his hand your breath cool air on it. He hadn’t expected this action, feeling your breath on his fingertips, made his ears go red.

“It’s okay now.” He pulled away, not looking at you.

You didn’t say anything, nobody said anything, you could hear the clock tick away, the minutes going past. Maybe Bakugo had gone to sleep, but as you turned back, he had been fixated on the ceiling. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He spoke with frustration on his tongue.

“Oh, I don’t know you seemed out of it.” You spoke turning away from him, you could feel his legs move closer to your own, you didn’t dare think of the actions you wanted him to do to you. Inside trying to think of other stuff.

Bakugo instead broke the silence, “your quirk is decent.” It was some sort of compliment and you would take it.

“Really?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You laugh at the boy, his own mouth twitched upwards. “At UA, there was a kid who made purple balls from his head, so you’re already one hundred times better than him.”

You supress a laugh at someone having a more useless quirk than you, “was he at least hero type.”

“He was just some extra, but he was below four foot and a pussy.” You couldn’t suppress it any longer, a laugh wavering through the room. “And a perv, he loved looking up girls skirts.”

“For some extra, you did pay attention to him.”

“When you have friends that I have, you hear too much unnecessary information.” You smile turning to face him again.

You thought of the heroes who he worked with, who came intro his apartment, they seemed like nice people to be friends with. “So what you don’t pay attention to your friends?”

“I pay attention to important people.” He turned back to face you, both of you under the covers but Bakugo’s hand had moved on top of the duvet, right on top of your body. You didn’t question the action instead questioning him.

“And who’s important to the great Katsuki Bakugo.” You gave a gleeful look waiting for a response.

He thought it out, before finding the confidence to speak, “you.”

You were dumbfounded, your eyes widening waiting for more context, “me?”

“You study (subject area), you and your roommate go to yoga every Friday night, you babysit who I assume is your nephew once a month, you like drinking coffee on the balcony and you always seem to have cooking magazines in your hand.” You were shocked at how much he had remembered and seen from you.

“You noticed.” You were calm on the outside but freaking the fuck out at how much he acknowledged about you, you had spoke about your studies, and what you normally did when you passed by him, but you never expected him to remember.

“How could I forgot your interests.” You smiled looking down before he spoke again, “oh yeah, and you have a massive crush on me.”

Your cheeks reddened, were you that obvious, “w…what?”

“Y/n, I know when girls have crushes on me, I’m surprised in the months I’ve know you; you have brought back one guy and he was the polar opposite of me.” You remembered the guy you had brought back to have sex with, he was the opposite of Bakugo, from his appearance to personality. “Was he able to fuck you good at least?”

A cocky smirk was placed on the blond’s face, his red eyes were filled with a knowing look, you shook your head feeling his hand press harder on the covers, feeling how his hand rubbed back and forth on your leg from on top. “That’s what I thought, I bet you didn’t even cum.”

“I didn’t.” You blurted out.

“You’re lucky you’re better than the other extra’s, you actually have a chance of getting with me.” You looked at him, his other hand moving towards your face.

“Just getting with you?” You hesitantly spoke, your hand meeting his to stop him.

He realised how he had phrased it and quickly rephrased it, “not just to fuck Y/n, I’m not a man whore who does one-night stands.”

“So you’d want to go on a d…date?” You question, pulling his hand towards your cheek.

“Your words not mine.” He spoke defensively, you smirked wanting to close the gap but being scared to make the first move.

He noticed your eyes move down towards his mouth before he closed the gap. The fast pace of the kiss made you more turned on for him, his hands on your cheeks bringing your closer to his face. You had never been kissed like this before, never felt this thrill inside of you and you craved more. His hand moved to your thighs, making you move on top of him, before you sat on top of his exposed chest, your lips still attached to him.

His hands on your sides bringing you closer under the covers as your hands went to his face, making the kiss’ pace fasten. You moaned his name, an instant turn on at the sound of hearing his first name, he had often seen you reading outside on the balcony, he admired how peaceful you got.

But every day when he saw how calm you looked, he fell more and more in love with his neighbour. He watched how you went through the motions every time you read a new book, it was like you were in your own fantasy and he loved it.

His grip on your sides moved to your ass, he squeezed it, making you moan again, this time allowing his tongue access inside your mouth. You loved the feeling, loved his tongue with your own, he loved how you sat on his perfectly, the way one of your hands had moved to his bare chest, glossing over each muscle. As you both parted, he bit at your bottom lip, tugging to make one last moan come from your mouth.

The sound making his ears tingle in enjoyment before he flipped you over. He craved you but was always going to ask before he moved onto other things. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.” He spoke his mouth on your stomach moving upwards, he was a predator and you his prey and he wanted to devour you.

“I want to wait.” You spoke breathlessly.

He nodded, “I can still kiss you right?” He stopped kissing right underneath your bra, his hand having lifted your shirt up.

“Yes Bakugo.” You smiled feeling his mouth latch upwards, past your bra and onto your neck. Sucking the spot, his hand on your side as he continued to nibble and bite on your collar.

“It’s Katsuki, baby girl.” The single word sent your insides into to turmoil. A purple bruise formed on your neck, before he captured your lips his own. Your legs wrapped around his back, as you brought your arms round his neck, wanting to limit the gap between the two of you.

“Baby…” You trailed off speaking through the kiss, it was too much excitement as his kiss left you a sloppy mess, you felt like putty in his hands. He let go letting you breath, before lying on his back.

“Come ‘ere.” He grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to his body. “We can finish this after our date tomorrow.”

“Is that a promise.” You smiled boldly, his face going into the crook of your now bare back, his arms around your exposed stomach and lips kissing your shoulder.

He went to your ear, licking the back of your ear before nibbling at the earlobe, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on, and we’ll make your roommate hear it all.”

You smiled in agreement; his arms wrapped around your body. You had not expected this to happen, you had thought you were doomed to be alone, but in the angry boys defence, you never even thought he acknowledged you. But as you laid hearing his soft snores in your ear, you gleamed at how you had got something you had been craving for months now.

bonus scene 

You woke up the sound of Bakugo in his kitchen, finding his discarded shirt, you wore it, it was a lot bigger than you, but you hoped Bakugo liked it. You walked into the kitchen, a plate of pancakes on the table. “I mad…” He turned around seeing your cute little face in his shirt. “You really want me to bend you over right now.”

You giggled walking up to him, he grabbed your waist planting a soft kiss on you mouth. It was a lot calmer than last nights, but still had the same love in it. You heard his front door open, but Bakugo’s grasp on your was still tight, you squealed not wanting to be seen, instead Bakugo flipped you around, his body pressed onto your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Oi Bakugo, did you forget we were meeting at the…” He trailed off seeing both of you. “Isn’t that your attractive neighbour.”

Your face reddened, “I said you could use my spare key in emergencies.” The door was still wide open, and you knew Bakugo’s shouting would raise some attention.

“I thought you died.” Kirishima spoke. “I’m Eijiro Kirishima, you’re the neighbour, we’ve all had to hear so much about.”

You smiled at the fact Bakugo spoke about you, it melted your heart. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You smiled, Bakugo’s grip loosening as you went to shake Kirishima’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.” He smiled out.

“What the fuck is all the noise.” You saw the door of your apartment open, you looked at your roommate who looked tired and her hair dishevelled. “Y/n what the fuck are you doing in there?” she looked between Bakugo and you, the way his arm was placed around your waist.

“You didn’t, even after everything I said.” She spoke a loud. “Tell me everything.”

She grabbed your hand, dragging you out. “I’ll see you tonight.” You shouted at Bakugo who watched you walk away.

“Ooo pancakes.” You heard Kirishima gleam out, Bakugo watched you get dragged away. A smile at the fact he had finally gotten what he wanted.

proceed to part two here 

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[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

We had been tucked in for the night for a long time when I felt Ransom’s body twisting and turning in bed. I was almost asleep already, so I didn’t even process it until his arm curled over my body, hand resting over my grown belly to pull me closer to him.

The proximity woke me up a bit in surprise, but then the warmth of his body started to lull me back to slumber, only for him to huff and turn around, leaving me alone once more.

“Huh? No, don’t go…” I whined, blindly reaching behind me in search of the comfort he had provided until his hand caught mine and raised it to his lips so he could kiss my palm.

“You awake?” He whispered, and something in his tone felt almost urgent, instantly wiping the sleepiness from my eyes. I sat up, rubbing them so I could completely focus, worried about the man beside me all of a sudden.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Ransom mirrored my movements, also sitting up in bed before turning his body to face mine. He stayed quiet for a while, seemingly thinking over his words before sighing.

“You don’t want to date me, that’s fine.” The sudden affirmation felt like a punch to the stomach, especially after the night we had shared. Thankfully, he wasn’t done talking and what he said next made it pretty clear where his head was at.

“Move in with me.” It was a breathy suggestion, a blurted-out invitation, but it was obvious that he had thought about this for a while. “These past few days at your parents’ house were incredible. I was able to see so much, be around for so much.”

His eyes fell to my exposed stomach - I didn’t really have any nightwear that was appropriate for my pregnancy, but all the nights we spent together in this bed, he didn’t seem to mind. “I- I want to be able to help you when you want chocolate again.” He chukled. “Please?”

It was silent in the room while I tried to come to terms with what he had asked of me. It’s not that I didn’t like it, I just hadn’t anticipated it at all. It honestly caught me by surprise, so it took me a while to be able to answer.

“Okay.” It was almost frightening, the way my heart warmed at the huge grin that split open Ransom’s face as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. But it reminded me that I had to establish some boundaries straight away.

“Really?” His difficulty to believe it was endearing, as the reasoning he used to try to get me to accept his proposition. He had every right to want to be around for more, be a more active part of the experience of getting his child into the world, as I had the right to keep some boundaries to make me feel comfortable with the entire experience.

But he really had been making the most of it during our trip. And in the time I’d allowed him to dip his feet in the waters of parenthood - or the part of parenthood that involved taking care of me while I was pregnant - he really had rose up to the challenge.

I trusted him a lot more now - enough to grant him even more space to grow and enjoy this experience alongside me.

I couldn’t stop myself from leaning over and depositing a quick kiss on his lips, staying there to brush them with mine for a while longer as I gathered the courage to talk about something I didn’t really want to - particularly after the impromptu kiss.

“Yes, really. I want your help with chocolate too, I’ve been trying to keep my desires at bay for too long,” I jokingly huffed, making an act out of rolling my eyes.

“Have you?” The question had me laughing, and his laughter soon joined mine. It really was no secret how often I had asked him to go buy food for me, and he always did so diligently, with no complaints. So to say that I’d been holding back could only really be seen as a joke.

I wasn’t talking about that though. There was a different type of craving, a specific type of hunger that I hadn’t been able to satiate before this trip, and as much as I didn’t want to voice it and make this the permanent arrangement he was hoping to get out of me, I was happy to have a way to take care of it.

There was just one little thing.

“I do have one condition, though.” That had the amusement disappearing from his eyes quickly, and he straightened out to listen to me with a serious expression I hadn’t expected Ransom Drysdale to be able to pull off when we first met.

“I- You- I’m sorry, Ransom, but I really don’t want to have to deal with you bringing girls home all the time. You can date all you want, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t want to have to share a roof with your one-night stands.” I watched him blink a few times, his hand that was holding mine suddenly freezing as he took in my words and I waited with bated breath.

I knew I was handing him the conditions to negotiate what he insisted he wanted on a silver platter, but I wasn’t ready for that. And I knew he had every right to turn the table on me and make it clear that, if I wasn��t going to give in and get in a relationship with him, I had no right to limit how and where he got involved with the women he dated - not on his own house.

But Ransom really must have grown because all I got was a firm nod - a firm, decided nod.

“I’m okay with that.”

I let out the breath I was holding, closing my eyes momentarily as I thanked the stars, the universe for this outcome. Finally allowing myself to relax again, I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation as Ransom observed me until he decided to join.

I’d never been a fan of the quiet. As a lawyer, I knew its importance, the role it played in getting people to reveal their deepest, darkest secrets - or at least their pressing concerns. So I had the ability to anticipate that, stop myself from spilling out too much and reveal yet another part of my soul to a person who could very well take it and ruin it… but I didn’t.

I remembered that night in his car, when I let him catch a glimpse of what was going through my head, how this whole situation was very much affecting me because of its unusualness. I remembered how relieved he felt at seeing through my mask, if only for a second. So I decided to, just for once, take it off entirely.

“I’m glad you asked me to move in,” I interrupted the silence that had taken over the room. My eyes kept fixated on the ceiling lamp - the same ceiling lamp I’d stared at for so many years, so many moments of teenage angst, never imagining one day I’d do the same next to the father of my child. “I... It makes me feel… protected.”

Ransom’s body rolled to the side, now fully turned to stare at me. His arms were under his head, I could feel his eyes burning my skin. “Ransom…” I breathed out, still trying to think about what I was going to say, thinking of talking myself out of it. Should I really say it? Should I really be this vulnerable in front of a guy who seemed to hate it? “… I’m terrified.”

There. I said it. And in the silence that followed, I felt incredibly comforted by the weight of his head as it fell on my chest, his arms embracing me tightly against his body.

“I’m so happy that we can be terrified together now.”

I hid my laughter on his shoulder, kissing it softly before letting my head fall back against the pillow. My nails absentmindedly drew patterns across Ransom’s back, my mind taking flight as I began to think I’d fall asleep again. Once more, his voice resonated around the room, “So, how do you think we’ll do this?”

It took me a while to understand what he meant, and I didn’t stop caressing him while I thought.

“You mean… co-parenting?” My only response was a soft hum, murmured against my skin. The edges of my lips curled up, fascinated by the idea of Ransom Drysdale anxiously starting to plan something that was still months away from becoming a problem (if it ever would).

“We’ll learn on the job,” I assured him because really, it’s the only thing I could do and say. I was just as anxious, just as inexperienced on the subject as he was. But the thought that now I could be anxious and inexperienced by his side consoled me to no end. “Right now, I’m more worried about how we’ll be as roommates.”

“I just assumed you’d treat me as your personal butler,” he joked. Once again, it was exactly what I needed to break the intensity of the moment, and his entire body began to shake as I broke down in a fit of giggles underneath him.

“You know me so well, already,” I teased, feeling him relax against me once more, lulling me to sleep alongside him and fall in a blissful dream I never wanted to wake up from.

[erosia-rhodes]

Top 9 Newbie thoughts on Supernatural after Six Months of Madness

I started watching Supernatural a week before the series finale, and full disclosure, it was only because I heard about the gay angel. I loved me some Good Omens, so I decided to check out a series my only previous thoughts about had been, "Is that show still on?" In the past six months, I've watched about fifty percent of the episodes scattered across all fifteen seasons. I've also spent time following the bonkers-in-the-best-way fandom on Tumblr, and here is what I have learned:

1) Everyone who loves Supernatural also hates Supernatural

No one is capable of praising this show without also trashing it. Supernatural is as awful as it is awesome. Watching Supernatural is like hate-fucking your nemesis against a wall; you're totally conflicted about it, but it's enormously pleasurable and you know you're going to do it over and over again. No one has a pure, untainted love for this show. They only have complicated emotions. This is because…

2) The fact that the show needs to be fixed is an essential part of its appeal

Strangely, if this show were better, it wouldn't be as popular. If you love a show that is perfect, you watch it once or twice or thrice, make a bunch of memes, and move on with your life two years later when you find something else to hyper-fixate on. If you love a show that's broken, you spend the rest of your life obsessed with fixing it. It's the crooked photo hanging on the wall that yearns to be straightened (because, you know, this show is bad at making things straight). It's the stray dog you know would be adoptable if you fattened it up and socialized it with your other dogs, and just like some people can't stop rescuing animals, Supernatural fans can't stop thinking about how to fix a show that isn't great, but could be with a flea bath and a trip to the groomers. Supernatural fans are not fans of the actual show, but of the show they imagine it could be, one that only exists in an alternate universe. They are in love with the Platonic ideal of Supernatural. That's also the reason why…

3) The fans understand the characters and themes better than 95% of the people who worked on the show

The people who watch Supernatural have thought about it way, way, way, more than anyone who produced it. I have read complex essays about what the color of people's clothing imply and how the state of the Impala reflects the state of Dean's mental health and other things I'm certain this show did not do intentionally. People can find depth in the shallowest aspects of this series. Any random fan could explain the complicated dynamics of the Winchester family and the overriding themes of the series better than most of the people who worked on it. That includes the LGBTQ stuff, which leads to the fact that…

4) The show is simultaneously too gay and not gay enough

On one end of the spectrum are fans who are offended you would dare to suggest one of the Winchesters might like kissing a boy and they'll shove you in a locker and duct tape your butt cheeks together for it. On the other end of the spectrum are fans who think it's odd that every episode doesn't end with two attractive men dry humping in a dark corner of the bunker library. No one is happy with the level of gayness on this show. It's always got too much "No Homo" or too much queer subtext, which is why I've concluded that…

5) The audience this show wanted is not the audience they got and they are resentful of it

The original pitch for this show targeted a male demographic who’s into toxic masculinity in a non-ironic way. It was about bros and beers and muscle cars and shotguns and hot chicks who will be killed to further the man's storyline. However, when making that show, they accidentally created a show that attracted female viewers who liked speculating about the queer subtext of each scene while looking at pretty men with traumatic backstories fight back their man tears. The show depends on the unintended audience segment to survive, but is bitter about it, which they remind you of time and time again by killing the female and non-white characters and toying with endless queer-baiting. It's like the writers got a plane to Rome, ended up in a gay nightclub in Amsterdam instead, and even though the canals and tulips make it a lovely city to visit, they wanted to go to Rome, damnit, and they'll never let you forget it! I also suspect that…

6) The people who made this show were at constant war with each other

This show has such a split personality. Sometimes it leans into the gay stuff and other times it makes fun of it outright. Sometimes they'll introduce an interesting side character that could make the show more diverse and then they'll slaughter that person for practically no reason. Sometimes they praise free will and other times they force people down pre-destined paths. The writers feel like a dysfunctional family stuck at Thanksgiving dinner endlessly squabbling with each other—who then had to write a TV show together over dessert. That's why it's such a weird hot mess. The show's unevenness makes me think that…

7) Some people's attachment to the show can only be explained by the fact that it imprinted on them when they were young

Some fans have mentioned they started watching Supernatural when they were kids. It's a pretty common experience to go back and watch things you loved when you were a kid and realize they were…not so good. Your memories of them are far better than the reality of them, but you cling to them anyway. The shows you watch when you're young imprint on you in a way you never forget. Supernatural fans are like a baby duck who looks up at a cat and assumes it’s their mother. Then that cat slices open their poor little hearts, leaving them wounded but not dead, forever be toyed with in agony. The only relief is that…

8) The fandom is batshit insane in the best way

I started following the Supernatural fandom on Tumblr in November of 2020 and OMG, it was AH-MAZE-ING. It was total insanity. I didn't understand half of what was going on, but it was more fun than a yard full of puppies doing zoomies. People were posting detailed PowerPoint presentations theorizing how the series would end, citing extensive physical evidence like the background in Misha's hotel room. People learned election results through Supernatural memes. Destiel went canon every other week. When the Spanish dub was released, Tumblr literally crashed! Obama's Twitter was following a Destiel account. There was a Twitter wedding for Destiel on Valentine's Day, which made the one-month anniversary on Pi Day.

It's been a ride, y'all. I have no idea how you guys survived fifteen years of this. The fandom has been so much fun that I actually sat down and watched more than 100 hours of this show so I could understand everything better. It's like the show is an extension of the fandom instead of vice versa. If anything sums up Supernatural for me, that's it. It's all about the fandom and the show is secondary to that. It's like the fans willed the show into existence as part of some partially botched spell. And part of that twisted spell is that…

9) The show will never die until someone finds its bones and burns them

This show has been off the air for more than six months now and it keeps trending on Tumblr consistently. Misha recently trended on Twitter simply because he was at the Oscars. That was it! He didn't even do anything there, he just attended, and some people figured it out by the reflection in a photo posted by someone else! And just as I was proofreading this post, Destiel started trending again because John Cena is a stan or something? This fandom is crazy and unpredictable and I love it like Dean loves pie! If there ever does come a time when this show stops trending, that will be the moment when they decide to reboot it or revisit it.

There is a lot more I could say about this show, but these were the elements that seemed most unique and bizarre about it. I wouldn't say Supernatural is a ride-or-die fandom for me, and I have no intention of watching another 100 hours of this series, but it's been hella' fun to drop in for a while. The show is just as much a dysfunctional mess as the Winchester family and I guess that's why people love it, right?

[sauntervaguelydown]

2021 Fanfic Year End Summary

good FUCKING morning (it's not morning) Nev just finished doing their year end wrap up, which reminded me that I was going to do a year end wrap up. The years just keep coming and they don't stop coming, huh?

This year wasn't really notable for anything except that Covid fatigue finally hit me with all the weight of last year and a new one somewhere around summer + my anxiety finally got debilitating enough that I made the jump to seeing a psychiatrist. Crossing my fingers that things are on the upswing now. I'm settled in now with my office job and I've gotten to where I can work on fic at the office as long as 1. nothing else is going on, and 2. I am Not Tired

Nev really saved my life doing beta for a couple of these suckers, and I got some fresh new ideas from James and Van this year as well--not to mention everyone who contributed prompts to the Arranged Marriage series! That's been a fun new thing to have ongoing.

This year I published 23 new titles and wrote a total of 152,585 words, with two different co-authors. This year I wrote with both Nev (of course) and with Mllemusketeer, which was a totally new experience and a very cool stretching of my comfort zone. We hashed it out an idea in a week while I was traveling back from North Carolina, then we really both doubled down and hyper-fixated on Hold Me Tight (Say They Didn't Win), which we blasted through right up until the final chapter, which was unexpectedly difficult. It's lightning in a bottle, you just can't engineer that level of synchronicity.

Best/worst title?

There were some fun titles this year, but Your Bloodstained Laurel Wreath absolutely takes first place. It started out as a phrase that was stuck in my head while me and Nev were brainstorming the fanfic--I was getting up from my desk and walking to the kitchen repeating it over and over in my head. I like the meter of it, and the imagery. It's only synchronicity that it happened at the same time that the fanfic was taking shape, and eventually got baked in. I'm lucky that Nev liked it enough to indulge me, haha

Runner up title is probably A Darkness Asking to be Split Open--also a synchronicity, that I happened to see that exact poem floating by on my dash just as I was wrapping up chapter one of the fic for posting.

Worst title is What You Can Have, which isn't a bad title so much as a placeholder title that I never found a better replacement for. I mean it works, it's just... I've used it as a placeholder title for a different fic before ^^;

Best/worst summary?

By far the best summary:

You are cordially invited to the WEDDING of our esteemed LORD MEGATRON and SOME LITTLE GUY HE FOUND IN A BOX.

Although Ornament is the runner up because it so quickly sets up all the context I really didn't have time for in the fic proper, so in a way it becomes part of the content of the story.

I had a lot of weak summaries this year :/ A lot of my concepts were hard to summarize, I think? Worst summary... man this is a tight race, but let's go with Contract Law: Special Vengeance Unit, in the sense that I was so dissatisfied with how the summary was conveying the content of the story that I scrapped it and replaced it a few months ago. I think it is much better now.

Best/worst first line?

best

Rattrap possessed two traits that made him a stand-out in the field of "not getting your guts ripped out and eaten by deranged terrorcons", and the first of those traits was that he was a coward.

worst, by dint of starting a fic with the exact line from a prompt:

“Let’s get this straight," said Rattrap. "I’m only agreeing with this arrangement so Starscream will shut up.”

oh and shout out to 2021 for being the worst/weirdest year in which to write a story whose first line begins "after the coup de etat"....

Best/worst last line?

My personal favorite is from Kintsugi:

His devotion bubbled over like tar, or like gold, filling every crack in Pharma with horror and with love.

instead of giving a worst one, because I think actually I'm happy with all of them this year (!!), I'm going to give another good one:

And then he went inside, and closed the door, and left Megatron alone in the corridor of an impossible ship even now flying steadily away from everything he had ever known.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

152k words (including cowrites)... That's less than last year, but still a high fucking number and more than I thought it was going to be before the total-up. I think I wrote less long fic this year than I thought I was going to... over the course of the year the size of my projects shrunk and shrunk haha. Mlle did a lot of the heavy lifting on Hold Me Tight, so if we reaaaally broke it up I suspect this year and last year would be even further apart.

Though! The number of total titles this year and last year is 23, so technically I wrote the same amount of stories.on

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

Well I surprised myself with the CowboyBeebop fanfic, both because it's a fandom I've never considered writing for before, and also because it's the kind of mainstream het pairing that I usually have nothing to do with. Maybe it's the fact that I hooked up with a boy this year... who knowwwwssss....

Silco/Jynx is also a pairing very far off my normal territory, although the fact that I gender/sex weirded it probably explains that one sufficiently.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Tough question this year--I would say until what I love misses me, and calls me in. because the sections that Mllemusketeer wrote still make me laugh, and the serene mood of the ending leaves a pleasant taste in your mouth

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

going by the numbers.... wow, by hits, the most popular one is Yield for Nothing. I must have REALLY hit a niche hungry market, it actually beat out Laurel Wreath, which is like my prestige picture for the year.

By bookmarks (which is how I sort when I'm looking for fic) it's actually Kintsugi! Wow, that's nice, what a pleasant surprise.

Story most under appreciated by the universe?

I feel in my bones that Laurel Wreath is a perfect story, deserves to be a classic, and therefore the fact that it's an obscure pairing with a popular character acting as the villain kind of.... makes it a perpetual underdog. Although I'm very grateful for the attention that it has gotten, and all the engagement from those who did read.

Story that could have been better?

mmmm... Perhaps These Are Not Poetic Times really should have been longer, but I didn't want to commit to another 10k word story and figure out what all the other Beast Wars characters were doing... I've already written two enormous Apocalypse AUs in my life and I'm a little burnt out

Sexiest story?

As usual, I have a lot of HORNY stories (The Mesmer Box is probably the horniest) but the aura of a sexy story is a very specific and glamorous one... and Someone Borrowed by far takes the penthouse prize. Nev did NOT hold back, and the escalation + the squirmy guilt just pops OFF

Most fun story?

Oh, Electric Chapel for sure. I love writing shenanigans, so it was fun to write AND it's fun to read.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Taillights, Last Night really gave me a chance to extend myself deeper into the Drift/Deadlock dichotomy in a way that felt like chipping marble off a block and finding a statue. I don't know that it's really a paradigm shift for me, though. I think maybe What You Can Have taught me some new things about Swerve, which was mostly the result of Van leading me by the nose down into the wilderness of Oh This Character Huh

Hardest story to write?

I think that until what I love misses me, and calls me in was a story I wanted to read but really didn't want to write... it was done in piecemeal, bit by bit, mostly out of a dogged determination on my part to make sure it made it to the finishline. I'm glad we finished it, but it wasn't easy. Actually, I've never written straight feelgood fluff before (I don't think?), so in a way that was stretching me as a writer, too.

Easiest story to write?

I banged out both Yield for Nothing and It's a Pretty Good Song, Maybe You Know the Rest each in one morning (or, two mornings, respectively). This is a huge turnaround from my experience with smut in the past, which has been more on the laborious side. It helps that they're both very short.

Most overdue story?

I have to agree with Nev, Heavy in Your Arms definitely took the longest time from first line to last line (a year???? what?) because Nev was busy and I didn't want to bug them but I also had no idea how to continue from the intro I'd written... We did not have an beginning outline lmao. In the end it grew as fast as it was written, so there was really no way we could have sped the process up.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Yield for Nothing was a huge risk, in the sense that I was genuinely afraid that I was going to get hate comments and threats about it. Weirdly enough, I've only gotten one or two lukewarm comments and a bunch of positive reviews. I think that Hold Me Tight, Laurel Wreathe, and Most Dangerous Game were all risks in their own right--the first because it was so pitch dark and nasty, the second because of its bait-and-switch endgame ship, and the third because it was deliberately choosing to make a character with a pretty dedicated fanbase do some Extremely Dubious Shit.

It's hard to believe that last year I was so wildly nervous about posting robot boob content. I have gotten MUCH more shameless and weird since then. I'm really beyond cringe now.

All in all this year I think I learned that it can be a lot of fun to go ahead and commit to the WrongBad timeline and see how the nasty plays out.

Did you meet your goals this year?

One thing I've proud and relieved about is that I FINALLY got the coda to Don't Sing Me No More Blues written and finished. That bitch did NOT want to get written. I think in part it was that Nev had already done such a beautiful job with their Coda, and I didn't want to retread the same ground. It took me a while to figure out which thread was both new and interesting for them to explore.

I still haven't... finished... GPAU... one more chapter got written but I do not know how to get over the hump of the ending, even though the linear progress of events is outlined already. I'm really stumbling over the comedy aspect, specifically.

I did succeed in writing non-TF fic! Got them in just under the wire, but they exist!

Do you have any fanfic goals for the New Year?

1. get this chromedome fic written

2. write more f/f

3. Do some batman again, somehow

4. JAZZ/RUNG WILL EXIST

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Illicit Affairs

A/N: Okay so the ages and timing on this story don’t make much sense but just overlook that, maybe? I don’t know you’ll see but just try to ignore it if you can for the sake of the story. Also I know it’s been forever since I posted but it’s because I’ve been working on this series, so yeah. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,488 Warnings: I don’t think any.

Your Uncle Frank was one of your number one supporters through it all, and by far one of your closest family members.

You had known him since you were 13, as he and your Aunt Jamia (who was your mother’s sister) had met early in high school and had been dating since. Now that you were 20 and in college, triple majoring at NYU, he was once again your biggest supporter, helping you financially at every opportunity he could. You always felt so guilty for the thousands of dollars he insisted on paying monthly to help you get through college with little to no student debt, but he was insistent.

And of course you knew that money came from his now wildly successful band My Chemical Romance. You had been to a few My Chem shows, but had surprisingly never actually met any of the guys, besides Ray who you accidentally met while dropping off some coffee for Frank at the recording studio. You were actually a pretty big fan of their music, but you never broadcasted that your uncle was Frank Iero. That remained pretty private.

But here you were, driving to one of their shows for the soundcheck from Frank’s New York apartment, which you were staying at for the summer because A. You were taking summer classes and B. He offered to pay you to dog/house sit while he was touring, since Jamia consistently had work that sometimes meant she had to travel.

You pulled up to the large venue, showing security the backstage pass that Frank had given you, before being escorted into the main arena, where empty spaces for chairs lurked open, a few maintenance and sound people running around and fiddling with various things. You looked up to see some of the guys sitting down in a circle having a conversation. Frank noticed you almost immediately, getting up with a big smile and running up to you, engulfing you in a hug, and you hugged him back. “How’s my favorite neice?” He asked and you lightly laugh.

“Great, you?” You asked and he smiled back.

“Great.” It was funny to be shorter than Frank, only be a few inches, but still, making you the shortest in both the family and in most social situations. He walked you over to where everyone else was, introducing you in general as everyone got up to shake your hand. You already knew Ray, who gave you a hug, but you had never met the other three.

First was Mikey, who seemed shy and a little awkward, but was pretty adorable. Then came Bob, who seemed chill, and finally Gerard. You had to admit he was pretty handsome both on and off stage, but you pushed some confidence forward so you wouldn’t chicken out. “I’m Gerard.” He shook your hand with a kind smile.

“Y/N.” You responded, shaking it back. You could see your uncle eyeing the both of you from the corner of your eye, but you weren’t totally sure why. Was your crush on Gerard that obvious. You pulled away a moment, somewhat nervously with the conscious that at least your uncle knew, meaning other people probably did too.

You all sat down in a group as the guys began asking questions about you and what you were doing in school. All of them (besides Frank who already knew) were extremely surprised as you triple majoring, but you couldn’t help and notice how Gerard was fixated on you the entire time. After a bit of explaining stuff about you, everyone split up to go do their own thing. Ray, Mikey, and Frank all went off to begin tuning and testing their stuff while Bob did the same, but Gerard stayed back with you for a few minutes.

“Hey, this could be totally weird and awkward and not cool and you can totally say no,” Gerard began, quietly to you when no one was around, “But would you mind if I got your number? I mean I could ask Frank but your his niece so that might be awkward and-” “No, no, it’s fine.” You lightly smiled, as if to reassure him. You pulled a sticky note and pen out of your backpack, writing it down, “Here.” You smiled at him, handing it over. “But I would advise you don’t tell Frank, because he might, ya know-” “Yeah, yeah, trust me, I know.” He said and the two of you lightly laughed. “Are you gonna be at the show tonight?” He asked and you nodded, “Cool, cool. Have you been to one before.” You nodded again.

“A few times, actually, I’ve just never gotten to meet you guys.” You lightly smiled.

“Cool, cool.” He responded. You could tell how awkward both of you felt, each of you having the urge to keep the conversation going but it just wasn’t there. “So I should probably go and start sound check, ya know. But it was awesome meeting you, Y/N.” Gerard smiled.

“You too.” You smiled back.

“I’ll see you around?” “See you around.” You lightly waved as he jogged the other way.

You ended up excusing yourself and saying bye, with the excuse that you had more school work to do, when in reality you just needed some air as your mind continued to process the idea that the Gerard Way just asked for your number. He was so nervous and cute about it that in a way it made you all the more happy getting to know him briefly, but he was nothing like how he was on stage. The confidence that seemed to erupt in him was all wiped away as he just seemed like a nervous outcasted teenage boy in a band, which maybe to an extent he was.

Gerard, on the other hand, was set on the idea that he had just fucked over any shot he had with you. And from what you had explained, you seemed like the perfect girl. Not only were you absolutely gorgeous to him, but you were kind, funny, and smart. And you seemed to have some tom boy in you, which only made you that much more attractive to him to send him mind into overdrive. He wasn’t sure that the perfect girl ever existed, until you walked in.

And he was shocked that you were single. Sure, you had a lot on your plate and probably not enough time for a relationship, but any boy or man would be insanely lucky to have you. But there he stood, mentally punching himself at how stupid he acted. And ideally he would have gone and ranted to the guys, but the moment Frank heard he was interested in you, he knew he was dead meat. Frank may have only been 5′6 but he could pack a punch if he wanted to.

And besides, you were eight years younger than him. And while that didn’t matter to him, and clearly to you it didn’t either, that would most likely be looked down upon by most other people. “It’s pretty obvious.” Mikey came up to him behind the stage, “You’re just going to have to deal with the wrath of Frank eventually.” The two looked over at the short man who was clearly pissed in some way.

It wasn’t until that night at the concert that your worries fluttered away. You had invited a few friends, who were all jumping, screaming, and dancing as you did the same in the pit. Gerard had taken the crowd by his hand with ease starting with their opener, and flawlessly sang and entertained everyone. You were genuinely having the time of your life, and even when the show ended you were still riding high from the buzz of adrenaline that the show gave.

You ran back stage, giving Frank a hug and he hugged you back. “You guys did awesome!” You sighed out, still in awe with a huge smile on your face. “It was absolutely incredible.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Frank smiled back down at you.

“Y/N/N?” Ray asked, with a confused look.

“Yeah, it’s been her name in the family since she was like two.”

“Okay, Y/N/N.” Ray smiled at you and you smiled back. You couldn’t help but look over Ray’s shoulder, seeing Gerard standing back with Mikey drinking lots of water, for obvious reasons. You briefly excused yourself to go talk to them.

“Hey,” You walked up to Gerard and smiled, he immediately looked back, putting his water down and smiling back at you tiredly. “You did awesome.” You preached, “Like, actually, you did insane.” “Thanks.” He lightly laughed, “Glad you enjoyed.” You nodded. “Hey Mikey.” You looked at the skinny boy who waved back.

“You did pretty great too.” “Thanks.” He smiled, saying goodbye and departing from the two of you shortly after. Gerard pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one in his mouth, and motioning them towards you, a way of asking. You shook your head.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He nodded, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the stick. He took a deep breath in, letting the smoke come out through his mouth only a few moments later.

“So you don’t smoke?” He asked next, casually. You shook your head, “Smart.” He lightly smiled. “It’s pretty fucking annoying.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks for the advice.” You smiled.

Only a few seconds later you were called out by the rest of the guys, sitting outside their tour bus and drinking some beer. You noticed Gerard had none, and opted for just some water, you doing the same instead. For you it was pretty obvious, you were 20 and weren’t of the legal age to drink. But for Gerard it would seem off to most people, but of course Frank had told you all about how only a few months prior he was an alcoholic and had gotten sober, so naturally you didn’t blame him one bit for skipping out on the alcohol.

“Hey Y/N, want some?” One of the guys on tour asked. You shook your head. “Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” The guy continued to insist.

“Nah, I’m alright.” You said. It was pretty annoying when guys asked you to drink, because you knew that it was to get you to a point of being drunk only to get laid. Or even worse, the fear that the drink could be laced. Either way, you weren’t taking a chance.

“Are you sure-” “Hey man, back off.” Gerard, who was sitting next to you, spoke, “She said no.” “I’m pretty sure she can speak for herself.” The dude smirked and fired back, thinking he did something.

“And she already did speak. She said no.” He said firmly, more aggressive this time, “You’re on this fucking tour because you’ve been hired by my band. So I would suggest you leave her the fuck alone before you lose your job, buddy.” Gerard snapped. The other guys eyes just went wide, walking away in surrender.

“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” You looked over at him, and he gave you a confused look, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it happens all the time.”

“Well it shouldn’t.” He sighed, “But you’re smart enough to know that. No offense, and this is not meant to be sexist, but a lot of girls your age don’t know that.” “Yeah, I know,” You admitted, “I’ve seen it happen one too many times.” Both of you obviously became slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand, prompting Gerard to begin another conversation.

“So what do you like to do?” He asked, “Outside of school, of course.” “I don’t know,” You sighed, “I love to write, I have since I was younger. Reading goes a long with that, I’ve read comics since I was a kid too. I know that probably sounds stupid but-” “You read comics?” He asked, slightly shocked. You nodded, “What kinds?” “I started out with Marvel, since my dad collected Marvel as a kid. Then I got into DC, Watchmen in specific, I never got into the Justice League because I didn’t really see the relevance of it, but I liked the Avengers a lot.” He nodded and smiled.

“That’s pretty cool, ya know. Not really stupid in my book.” He lightly laughed, “I actually went to school to be a comic book writer.” “Really?” You asked, adjusting yourself in your seat and he nodded. “No way.” “Yeah, I did. But it was a rough time in the comics industry and nothing really worked out.” You nodded, understanding.

“Do you still do anything with comics?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, “In my free time I love to draw, I have this current project I’m working on, I’m not sure what it’s going to be called, but it’s like this weird super hero family type thing, but they’re all adopted, and this guys makes his kids a super hero team? That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense.” You lightly laughed.

“Not totally, but what I get from it, it sounds pretty awesome.” You admitted, “I think that would be pretty cool, and original. Which is something everyone wants when it comes to comics.” He nodded.

“It probably wouldn’t be hard to get it published now with this whole band thing.” You nodded.

“Well, if you ever need a second opinion on it, don’t hesitate to ask. Although I know it can sometimes be hard to show off your work.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” He smiled. You got a vibration from your phone, which you checked. It was one of your friends, but glancing at the time your anxiety rose.

“Shit,” You muttered, “Hey, so I know we were just starting to actually talk and all, and I really don’t want to end that, but I kinda have to get back and-” “Hey, hey, don’t worry.” Gerard lightly smiled, “You’re really busy. It’s totally fine.” “You sure?” You asked again and he nodded.

 “Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “Here, let me at least walk you out to your car.” “No, you don’t have to do that-” “Trust me, it’s alright.” He insisted, getting up and walking besides you under the night sky.

“It was really great meeting you.” You smiled up at Gerard as you two stood outside your car.

“You too, Y/N.” He smiled down. “This may be too soon, and it probably is, but I asked for your number after like five minutes of knowing you so I guess we are moving fast. Anyways, I’m rambling.” He stuttered a little, “But would you want to go out with me sometime.” You smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” You responded, “Just text or call me and we’ll work something out.” “Oh, okay, awesome.” He smiled. “Bye Y/N. Get home safe, okay?” “Bye, Gerard, and I will.” You said and got into your car.

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3,783

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: These next chapters are really just gonna be the necessary episode that contributes to the character's storyline. I'll try my best to compress them into fewer chapters but some I do need for my storyline. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 4

It’s funny how life moves so quickly, but agonizingly slow at the same time.

We had been on the hunt for the prince of darkness after he resurfaced 26 years after what we thought was his last crime in California. He had been across the 48 continuous states, leaving his mark of crimes all over the map. Initially, we were confused as to why he would reappear in Los Angeles if he never hit the same city twice until we noticed a pattern. Billy Flynn was recreating his original murders to taunt Matt Spicer, a survivor, and tell him he’d be going after Spicer’s family because he wanted recognition for the murder that had made Spicer a “city hero”, he wanted to be part of the story. They were horrible and vile crimes one after the other and we were working nonstop to catch him. The case took a turn when we found out he was going after Ellie and Kristin Spicer, Matt’s daughter, and sister, respectively.

The case took a turn when we sent Spicer and Morgan to retrieve the family thinking Flynn was going to take them from Matt’s house. But it was too late, he had gotten there before them. The duo decided to go to Kristin’s house believing he needed privacy to conduct whatever he was planning. Hotch, Prentiss, and I were in a car as we got intel from Morgan, waiting on the address of the sister’s house. But it didn’t make sense, that wasn’t personal enough for him. It didn’t tie into the story. Being stuck in traffic was exasperating, and it only got worse once we lost cell reception in the middle of a call.

Against my better judgment, we headed to Kristin’s apartment where we found out she had been gone for hours and Morgan had never arrived.

“Something must have changed,” Emily expressed.

“The cells are down,” Kurzbard chimed. “Now how the hell do you find them?”

“What would cause Morgan to change his like that when he knows he can’t tell us?” My father spoke up, worry evident in his eyes.

“The unsub had Spicer’s sister and daughter; Morgan knew he didn’t have a lot of time.” Hotch analyzed.

“So, his first guess had to be right.”

“The unsub attacked Spicer specifically through his family,” Emily commented.

“How long has Spicer’s sister lived here?”

“6-7 months.”

“Well, that’s why they didn’t come here.”

“If the unsub wants to hurt Spicer, hell do it someplace that means something to him. Morgan must have realized the same thing.” I thought. “The unsub and Spicer do share one place in common.”

“Santa Monica.”

“Where he killed his parents,” I finished.

“Let’s go.” Hotch started the quick walk to the cars to speed off to Spicer’s childhood home, where we hoped to find Morgan and the Spicers.

Once we arrived the front yard was covered with emergency vehicles, my mind spiraling to the worse possible scenario. We were already one man down; Flynn had gotten to Spicer. Kristin was in rough shape and Flynn had taken Ellie. Morgan had a pretty nasty head wound, but being the strong-headed man he was he just wanted to get back to work.

“Guys, I’m not going to any hospital until we find that little girl.” He directed himself to the EMT. “Now, please just put a bandage on it.”

“Morgan, what’s the notebook?” I motioned to the small book in front of him.

“I asked the sister to tell me everything she could remember about the unsub.”

“And what’s her condition?”

“It’s bad.”

“I’ll go check on her,” Emily offered. She left with the ambulance and hopefully we could get more information out of her.

Everyone knew Morgan wasn’t in perfect condition to continue working, but we also knew he wouldn’t allow us to make him rest. JJ and Reid arrived at the scene with satellite phones to allow communication to continue while the phone towers were down.

“Any word on Ellie?” JJ asked, clearly worried about the innocent little girl that had been brought into this tragedy. Morgan glared at her with such an intensity we all got uncomfortable. “I was just…”

“It’s not you,” I comforted, going out to follow Morgan, Hotch trailing behind.

Outside he called Garcia, asking for her to run the plates on the RV, treating her coldly. I knew he was desperate, but Penelope was worried, as were the rest of us. Something much worse could’ve happened to him; he could have ended up like Spicer.

“You know, she really needs to be more professional sometimes.” Derek turned.

“She gets the job done every time,” Hotch defended.

“I told him, Hotch.” His voice cracked. “I told him that we should wait for backup but he wouldn’t listen to me. We split up and he headed around back before I could stop him.”

“Morgan, sometimes when it comes to family common sense and procedure go out the window.”

“You do the best you can,” I comforted, laying a hand on his shoulders to let him know he wasn’t alone.

“This unsub raped the aunt and then beat her for no reason. She didn’t resist, guys. And he still pistol-whipped her until her ribs were crushed. He killed Spicer while he was on his knees. He was unarmed. This guy’s a pure psychopath. I want this guy.”

“And we’ll get him.”

“Well, we better do it fast. Taking Ellie was like a game to him. The sick bastard thought it was funny. He’s gonna get pissed off at her, she’s nothing but a little girl. She’s gonna show him fear, and when she does… he’s gonna kill her.”

“Then, what are we doing standing around? Let’s go,” I tried my best to encourage.

We all quickly headed back to the precinct, needing to calculate what his net moves would be. He changed his methods suddenly; all patterns were out the window. Flynn wasn’t devolving he was becoming more calculate, we had to find the ends to his means. And Derek’s attitude wasn’t helping to ease the tension we were all feeling. Thankfully, Emily entered at the right moment. We couldn’t run the plates, possibly Kristin had gotten them wrong, but she remembered something crucial. The radio. Flynn listened to the radio following the sound of his name in the mouths of newscasters, and although this could help us, the LAPD had released everything we knew about the RV, about Ellie, and about him.

“That might force him to dump the RV,” my dad said.

“Or kill…” Spencer started but quickly stopped knowing this wouldn’t help appease the strained situation.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“He could’ve killed you and the sister, but he didn’t. He kept you alive, he can’t be surprised that we know what he’s driving and that he has a hostage,” I explained, my father nodding his head in agreement.

We knew he listened to the radio but not which station, but an idea surfaced in JJ. We could try to work with the Emergency Alert System. Quickly, she got to work to be able to get out a message that we were sure would reach Flynn. On one side of the room, Emily and Morgan were talking about Kristin and what she had made him promise her. The safekeeping of Ellie. Kristin said it wasn’t fair of her to ask that, but Morgan wouldn’t break that promise.

As JJ worked the bureaucratic sinkhole that was the EAS, we got word that Flynn was currently in another house with Ellie. When we arrived at the scene, he was gone, but not for the lack of trying to from the neighbors. They had tried to stop him, but he had already taken that family’s car and was able to speed off. We needed to work even quicker than before, he was getting desperate.

Inside the RV he discarded, Ellie’s hair was found on the floor. Derek got enraged, but Spencer reassured him: “Why would you disguise someone you were going to kill?”

Looking for clues inside, Derek found a pipe and I found a newspaper. As they fixated on more clues from the underlined words on it: “bright, happy child,” Spencer pointed out, Derek thought back on what Flynn had said back at the Spicer house. Flynn was after Ellie all along.

One thing we were wrong on the profile, he was stuck in the delusion of believing he was some sort of grandparent to Ellie; she wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t let Matt survive. In a matter of seconds, the gears in the case started shifting at full speed. Once JJ got through to the Madame Secretary, Hotch assigned her to hostage negotiation through the system, trying to find a way to draw him out. On the other hand, Reid and I were looking over some newspapers that were stored in the RV, the murders we might have thought were his first might not have been. As soon as the lights came back on and the cell towers were up we were contacting Garcia to check the records on a murder investigation from 1968.

Garcia has always worked fast and well, this time it was no different.

“So, Nora Flynn was a prostitute and a drug addict living in a desert community just outside of Los Angeles. It appears bikers were her stock in trade, rough bikers. And one fateful day she and a client were murdered by her 13-year-old son Billy. Shot to death. The costumer, ironically named John, was able to tell the police before he died that Billy made him beg for his life and then shot him anyway.”

“That’s him,” Morgan commented.

“And he was convicted, but...”

“He’s a juvenile,” I said.

“Right. So at 18, he was released in 1973, never heard from again,” Penelope continued.

“Oh, he was heard from,” Emily spoke up.

“And he never released a statement as to why he killed them, although it does appear his childhood was horrific. I’m sending you a picture of him on the day he was released to your PDAs.”

“make sure you send the files to JJ,” Hotch instructed.

“Of course, my liege. Garcia bids you ad…”

She was cut off by Morgan, hopefully, so he could apologize for being so cold. “Garcia, wait a minute.”

He took the phone and left to a more private corner to talk to our tech genius. Also, Hotch had gone outside to help JJ with the tough job she had to do; I did not want to be in her shoes right now. We were all standing around in a circle listening to JJ, we could tell she was nervous and picking her words carefully. At first, it was a little rough, but as soon as she tapped into her motherly instincts it was going way smoother. Hopefully, it hit the nail on the head.

Then we received some unfortunate news, Kristin had passed away. The look of defeat on Derek’s face was painful, Ellie was alone now. But there was some hope – Flynn had let Ellie go. JJ had succeeded. We sped off to the house where Billy Flynn was hiding. Upon arrival we were met with the LAPD, they had a direct line to Flynn sent in and were waiting for contact. It rang as soon as we got there, he was watching us.

“He wants to talk to you,” Kurzbard extended the phone towards Derek.

“What?” His tone was pointed, laced with anger and desperation. “He wants me to come in.”

Morgan started walking towards the house after exchanging some words with Hotch. My heart was beating a million miles an hour and I held onto Emily to stabilize myself. We had no eyes or ears on the inside of the house, and anything could happen whilst we were outside and Derek inside.

A couple of minutes went by until ten shots rang through the house. My heart dropped and tears spilled from my eyes unconsciously. I was expecting for the worse as my hands flew to my gun, ready to enter the house, but Emily held me back as Derek calmly walked out of the house. Emily and Spencer accompanied officers to survey the scene and I stayed behind with my father and Hotch to make sure Derek was okay. My father hugged my shoulders as we watched the reunion between Ellie and Morgan, who thankfully came out of the house unscathed.

On the flight home, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears as the adrenaline from the case was wearing down. Next to me, Derek noticed my mood shift and sat closer to me.

“What’s up, baby girl? What’s got you like this?”

“I don’t know, it’s just back at the house we didn’t know anything and all we hard were the shots; I just thought the worst had happened. I’m just being dumb,” I chuckled, trying to downplay how I was feeling. He was the one who went through the traumatic experience, not me.

“Oh come on, you know it would take more than a couple of knocks and a crazy unsub to take me down. You’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. All of us,” he motioned to the rest of the team. The ones who were still awake nodded and smiled.

But the team would suffer a huge loss before we knew it. This morning JJ, Strauss, and Hotch had been in Hotch’s office right before we were meant to be on the plane to Atlantic Beach. No one knew what they were meeting about, but it had to be serious.

We all left to the case with the underlying question of what the meeting was about. On the plane we stared at JJ until she confessed about the meeting; the Pentagon had offered her a job twice and Strauss wanted her to take it. As much as we wanted to pick her brain about it, there wasn’t too much news. She had a job offer she didn’t want and our boss wanted her to take it. We needed to focus on the case.

At the moment there were two men in custody, 20-year-old Sid and Jimmy. They were claiming they both had consensual sex with our 19-year-old victim Kate after she left a bar with them. Highly doubtful. The need to break them down psychologically became apparent when there were no plot holes found in their stories by the police. We had no body, two suspects, and a limited amount of time.

As soon as we landed, the team got busy with their assignments. JJ was to stay with the parents, Emily and Morgan were in interrogations, dad and Reid to the bar, and Hotch and I to review the interview videos to find any nonverbal clues to disrupt their story. As quickly as we could work so did Garcia. In minutes she gave us a big background into the kids, criminal troublemakers since their preteens.

We watched intently both interviews, Syd’s directly and Jimmy through recording. Syd was prepotent and standoffish since Derek walked in, not much perturbed him, Jimmy on the other hand had a tell.

“He never mentions her by name,” I said as we watched the interview Emily was carrying out with Jimmy.

“Why not?” Detective Mathias asked.

“He’s distancing himself,” Hotch added. “Depersonalizing the victim.”

“Look at the way he shifts his weight and cracks his neck. His behavior was consistent until Kate was mentioned,” I noted and Hotch nodded. Mathias seemed very interested in the way we analyzed every single movement.

Then, both asked for a polygraph test. As we waited to hear from the polygraph results we got to work on theories.

“So, what if they didn’t do it then we’re back to nothing?” Mathias doubted.

“One of them knows where Kate is,” I said nonchalantly.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because an innocent person doesn’t sit quietly for three days. They get angry and defensive.”

“These guys are going out of their way to appear calm and in control,” Derek added. “They’ve got something to hide.”

We knew they were stalling with the polygraphs, all we had to do is figure out what they knew about Kate’s whereabouts. Hotch then sent JJ back to dig into the parents a little, why would have Kate gone with these two boys if everyone else says she wouldn’t have? JJ adamantly turned and headed to the Pearson couple.

“Hotch, we can’t lose her,” I whispered.

“Strauss thinks we’re all replaceable. I went over her head to try to explain that we’re not.”

It wasn’t the answer we wanted, but it’s the one that we got. At the end of the day, we could be short a team member. And worse, our family would be separated.

But we had to continue working, they had passed the tests. We needed to continue the interviews. Something they were counting on. Dad went in to talk to Syd and Reid talked to Jimmy, the latter having a bit of a short fuse. We were going to continue on and on until they broke.

We had less than three hours until they were released. We needed everything we could get. As Derek pushed Syd, and Emily left Jimmy, Hotch got a call. I quickly picked at his cell and the screen read Strauss. So, I excused myself and left Emily to analyze the pictures that were on Syd’s phone of that night.

“She’s leaving, isn’t she?” I asked, reading Hotch’s defeated posture. He nodded. “There’s nothing you can do?”

“They’re not asking. It’s a direct order,” he rubbed his temples.

“So, she’s going to DC?” He nodded once more. I knew it was hard on him the most. He was the person we all looked onto to keep us united, but this really was out of his hands.

“I really wish there was more I could do,” he sighed. We shared a quick hug in the empty hallway, a way of reassuring him that he didn’t have to carry this news by himself. As we detached, he shared a small smile of relief, a small weight lifting off his shoulders.

“Well, come on. There’s no good in dwelling on it right now. Let’s catch these scumbags and bring back Kate.”

The interviews carried on. We couldn’t be distracted by the sad news. We were picking apart every breath, every movement, every word. Then, as she perused the pictures, JJ noticed in a Kate-less one her phone was present. But, Kate’s phone was in possession of her mother since it was recovered from Kate’s hotel room. The girl had made it back to the hotel.

We started forming our hypothesis. Most of the story they believed to be true because it actually was, they did take her back to the hotel, and they did leave. But Jimmy had felt rejected by Kate since she didn’t pay him much attention, and he had the perfect excuse to come back. So, when he left Syd back home, he went back with Kate’s phone. He lured her outside, possibly drugged her, and took her to his boat. Spencer pointed out that Jimmy was obsessed with the details of the port and Mathias added that at that time of night the blood from the catch would attract hundreds of sharks.

“We asked him if he killed her,” I sighed. “He didn’t. Asked where her body is.”

“He doesn’t know,” Emily added, following my train of thought.

“Technically those aren’t lies,” Spencer stated.

“How can you prove this?”

“We’ll get them to admit it,” Hotch answered Mathias.

Back into the interview room we were. We had our bait, and we were gonna reel in the answers.

After we pushed and got no concrete answers, we knew we had to search the ocean. I left with JJ ad Hotch to the port in hopes that she would be found. The Coast guard was 70 miles out and there was no sign of the young girl. We were getting worried.

“Kate’s an amazing swimmer. If he didn’t kill her when she hit the water, there’s still a chance,” JJ hoped.

“JJ, that’s three days in the ocean,” Hotch stated.

“I know,” she said in a defeated tone.

“This might be a long shot, but she would have been thrown near a dangerous area, which would mean there would be buoy markers. It could be possible that, if she was still alive when she hit the water, she swam all the way to a buoy, and since it’s been three days and hopefully, she has no major wounds, there’s a high probability she could’ve survived.” JJ looked up at me and gave me a small smile.

“Nice catch, (Y/N).” Hotch quickly punched in the number for the helicopter and told them to look closely at any buoys they saw around the area.

“I have a feeling about this one, JJ.” She hugged my shoulders. “We’re gonna find her.”

It wasn’t long until we got the news. Mathias came back to tell us they had found her hugging a buoy, alive. The three of us let out a breath of relief, and the unit chief and I stayed back as JJ went to tell the parents the good news. Although no words were exchanged, when we both looked at each other we knew this victorious feeling would be a short-lived one for the team.

Now that it was over JJ would be gone. When we got back, everyone else knew. JJ came out of the briefing room with a defeated look in her eyes, after a mad Hotch had stormed into his office. It didn’t take long for these brilliant minds to figure out the exchange.

“It’s done,” she sighed.

“It can’t be that simple,” Morgan protested.

“It is,” I said.

“You knew?”

“Figured it out back at the precinct,” I answered JJ. “Hotch got the call while Derek was interviewing Syd. It wasn’t too hard to map out.”

“This job is hard enough. What’re they trying to do, bury us?”

“She’s too good,” Emily said.

“She’s on everybody’s wish list,” dad added. “Our loss is somebody else’s gain.”

“They can’t just take you away,” Spencer said sadly. But they could, and they did.

It was a hard goodbye. She wasn’t truly gone but she wouldn’t be with us anymore. There wouldn’t be a need for a true grieving period, but the JJ-shaped hole that would fall upon the BAU team would be impossible to fill. Our family would not be fully complete until hopefully one day she came back.

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Tag List: @wanniiieeee @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @ssamorganhotchner

[babiemingoo]

fantasy faire || yoon jeonghan

summary: [apart of the seventeen stars to the right series] jeonghan figures babysitting his niece at disneyland can’t be that bad, but it definitely gets better when he finds out you’re the cast member assisting his niece’s favorite princess, cinderella.

genre: fluff, cutie uncle!jeonghan || wc: 2.3k

a/n: yes I did take too long to post this and yes I did go overboard... i’m sorry

I’m definitely the only college kid that has to spend their Saturdays like this, Jeonghan thinks to himself for the second time that month. When he had spent all those nights in high school imagining the crazy parties and wild events he’d attend on his Saturdays in college, there was never any 4 year old niece involved, and definitely no Disneyland either. Yet here he was, his right pointer and middle fingers wrapped tightly around his niece’s hand as she tugs him towards the opening gates of the amusement park. Despite the fact that he did want to go out day drinking with his friends like normal college students did, he also couldn’t complain too much. A free year pass to Disneyland and getting paid just to spend the day with his niece every week? There’s worse things to do on a Saturday.

Still, Jeonghan curses his need for money in the back of his head when a mere 15 seconds after stepping into the park his niece won’t stop begging him to go to the Royal Hall, of all places. “Uncle Hannie pleaseee you told me last time that you’d let me meet Cinderella!” He tries not to groan at the way his niece looks up at him, eyes pleading and much too big for his dwindling resolve.

“Why do you want to go there?! Don’t you want to, like, ride Space Mountain or something?” Jeonghan complains to her as they walk down Main Street, wearing matching Mickey and Minnie Disney ears while weaving through the overwhelming crowds of families and couples.

His niece lets out a whine just as they pass some teenager asking her parents for pictures in front of the castle, “I want to meet Cinderella! She’s my favorite! Uncle Hannie pleaseee!” Her walking halts and she begins to stomp her feet in protest. “You’re such a meanie, you told me last time we came that we would see Cinderella and the time before that and the first time and-”

“Fine!” Jeonghan thought he was first at a lot of things in life, but his niece definitely has him beat in the whining and persistence departments, “We can go see Cinderella at the Royal Hall, but only once today okay? We’re not going over and over again.”

His niece pouts, but doesn’t complain further as she makes her way to the left where the hall was located. Disneyland was always fun - it was Disneyland - but Jeonghan wishes he could enjoy it to it’s full potential rather than being dragged around to visit people in costumes and watching the same shows over and over again.

-----

The boy watches as his niece makes small conversation with the cast member dressed as Ariel. They had to wait in line for 45 minutes to get into the meet and greet and his niece only looks half amused when the princess asks her if she’s met any new fish friends lately. Jeonghan doesn’t say much during their interaction aside from taking a few pictures to show his aunt later and thanking the cast members for their time. 

Almost immediately after Ariel bids her goodbyes, the little girl goes taking off around the corner, calling out a, “Cinderelly Cinderelly!” in excitement. Jeonghan rushes to keep up, and right as he rounds the corner himself he sees his niece happily jumping into the arms of the woman dressed in blue. 

He already knows this is going to take twice as long as Ariel’s meet and greet did; his niece is already spewing off about how she wants her own castle with a mouse named Gus Gus and a carriage shaped like a pumpkin. With a slight puff Jeonghan makes his way to stand next to the cast attendant with Cinderella and for the first time today it’s his heart that goes pumping with excitement.

You stand next to the pillar with a smile watching the interaction between the princess and Jeonghan’s niece. You loved your job of attending to the princesses at the Royal Hall - the way a few magical minutes in someone’s day always makes the tiring hours more than worth it. You beam as Jeonghan’s niece claps her hands while speaking to Cinderella, questioning her on whether or not the King and Queen of the kingdom forced her to eat broccoli, too.

Since starting your job at Disneyland, there were many days where you and your favorite coworker would talk after a shift to discuss the cute guys that would funnel in and out of the parks. Turning to look at the man who came into your area with the little girl, you knew today would be one of those days. “Is she your sister?” You decide to ask, you know, for good measure. He technically looked old enough to have a child around the girl’s age, but you learned the hard way it’s better not to assume.

“Niece,” He answers with a small smile once he settles next to you. Jeonghan lets a few moments pass as he watches his niece happily bounce next to the princess, but in the corner of his eye he’s watching you. You were probably one of the cutest people he’s ever seen - if not the cutest. Knowing he only has a limited amount of time before the family on the other side of the wall moves on to get their meeting with Cinderella, the man attempts to strike up a conversation, “My sister makes me bring her to Disneyland every Saturday.”

“Every Saturday?!” Your eyes get wide, turning to fully face the man, “Did you have to buy an annual pass for that?”

“Nah, they pay for it.” The boy decides to face you completely in response while rubbing his fingers together, “My sister married well.” For a split second he wonders if he should’ve lied and said he did pay for it all himself - to impress you or something.

Your mouth opens to reply, but you’re quickly distracted when you catch the two girls posing for a picture. Despite your desire to talk to the cute guy, you know you’re technically still on the clock, so you cut the conversation in favor of taking pictures of his niece with her favorite princess. Jeonghan decides to do the same and pulls out his phone for pictures, but really, his attention is on you the entire time.

-----

When his niece first begged to meet Cinderella, Jeonghan fully prepared to tell her every week following that they can’t go the Royal Hall for whatever made up reason and somehow convince her to go on a ride instead.

However, with the thought of you, the cute cast member replaying on his mind like a loop, he doesn’t complain for a second when his niece asks to see the princess in blue. In fact, it’s become a habit to head straight to the left whenever they enter the parks. Sometimes Jeonghan even takes his niece through the meet and greet twice if she behaves well (but she doesn’t really have to do anything. He just wants an excuse to see you again).

With their new routine in play, you and Jeonghan become more and more familiar with each other. You learn each other’s names, where the two of you go to school, and even things as in depth as Jeonghan’s love for basketball and the story of how you came to work for Disney. He figures out that your shift ends at 3pm every Saturday and he always seems to make it at least once before you’re off. Coming to Disneyland goes from babysitting his niece to borderline using the little girl as an excuse to talk to you. The bond you two create is simple, and definitely unexpected from your job of working with families and couples more often than not, but it’s special; even magical in a way.

So when Jeonghan’s niece makes a move to go right instead of left one Spring Saturday, Jeonghan nearly gets whiplash, “What are you doing? Don’t you want to go to the Royal Hall?”

To his surprise, the little girl shakes her head and points towards Tomorrowland, “Can we try Space Mountain instead?”

For once in his life, Jeonghan is rendered speechless. His niece never turned down an opportunity to go see her favorite princess. He does nothing but blink at her for a bit, trying to understand her sudden fixation with the opposite end of the park, until he’s pulled back to reality by her tugging on his hand again, “Do you want to see Cinderella later, then?”

Jeonghan’s okay with going on the ride first - as long as they get into the Royal Hall by 3pm. “No,” His niece suddenly answers and the boy can only imagine how high his eyebrows raise, “I don’t really like Cinderella anymore.”

“You what?!” Jeonghan drops down to the girl’s eye level to shake her shoulders dramatically, “What do you mean you don’t like Cinderella?! She’s your favorite!”

“Not anymore, I watched Frozen yesterday and Elsa’s dress is prettier. She’s my favorite now!” He’s sure this could go in a Youtube compilation of Top 10 Anime Betrayals, “I wanna go see Elsa today instead!”

“Screw Elsa!” Jeonghan forgets for a second just where he is, catching a middle aged mom in the corner of his eye covering her daughter’s ears. Clearing his throat and bringing his tone down, he continues, “You like Cinderella, okay? When we get back to your house later tonight we can watch all the Cinderella movies and I’ll even buy you a doll today! But we're not going to see Elsa! We’re seeing Cinderella!”

The small girl, as expected, isn’t very happy with his demands. She begins to stomp and whine like that first day he took her to meet the princess, and although she got the best of him that time, it’s not happening today. “Why can’t we see Elsa?!”

“Because-” Jeonghan pauses to bring his voice down once again, “Cinderella’s friend is really, really cute, okay? And Uncle Hannie really wants to get their phone number. So, we’re going to see Cinderella and later on when Cinderella’s cute friend doesn’t have to work anymore we can go see Elsa, I promise.” With his pinky stretched out, he’s hoping his explanation suffices. His niece was young and maybe she won’t understand just how desperately he wants those two or three minutes with you every week; but it’s worth a shot. 

For a second, she does nothing but stare at his outstretched hand, almost as if she’s weighing her options. Then, with a small smile, she lifts her small hand to meet his and hooks their pinkies together, “Okay.”

-----

Today, Cinderella is placed at the end of the Royal Hall, and Jeonghan’s sure that his niece knows exactly what she’s doing when she nearly flies through the first two princesses with little to no conversation. He decides not to point it out though, and just goes through the routine of taking a picture and thanking the workers.

Jeonghan wonders how the interaction between his niece and Cinderella will go; will she pretend to be interested? Will she tell Cinderella that she’s found a new favorite? Or, worst of all: will she take nearly no time with the princess, and Jeonghan will be forced to talk to you for less than a second before having to leave?

Surprisingly, his niece does none of the three. Without even sparing Cinderella a glance, she immediately marches over to you standing in your usual spot against the pillar and says, “My Uncle thinks you’re cute.”

Silence. Jeonghan, despite being a naturally confident guy, doesn’t know what to do when you look up from his niece with an amused smile. Even Cinderella seems to lose character for a few moments when she slaps her hand over her mouth to conceal her laugh. Before Jeonghan can open his mouth to redeem himself, you look back down at his niece, “Oh? Does he?”

“Yes! I told Uncle Hannie I wanted to meet Elsa today but he made me come here because he said you’re really cute and he wants your phone number,” The girl replies and Jeonghan wonders where kids learn this stuff. “Can you give him your phone number so I can see Elsa now?”

 Jeonghan sighs. This would happen to him. It’s probably karma for using his innocent niece as a way to talk to you. What is he even supposed to say now? Breaking into an awkward smile, he grabs his niece by the shoulder and shrugs, “Uh, kids, right?” Damn kids.

You laugh for a few seconds before lowering down to his niece’s level and grinning at the girl, “Tell your Uncle, that I think he’s really, really cute,” You spare a glance at the man briefly, “And that I’m flattered he’d like to get my phone number. But it’s against the Disneyland rules for me to give it to him.”

Of course it is, he thinks to himself. Leave it to the happiest place on Earth to ruin his chances with you. Jeonghan’s about to nod in understanding and motion for his niece to (very quickly) finish her meet and greet and he can stuff his face with churros for the rest of the day. But before he can make any sort of moves you continue, “However… If you and your Uncle were to see me at the castle around 3:30 after my shift today… I’m sure Mickey wouldn’t mind, right?”

“He wouldn’t!” His niece answers happily before jumping up and down, facing Jeonghan to say, “Can we see Elsa before then?!”

Chuckling (mostly to mask his sigh of relief and excitement), Jeonghan nods and points to Cinderella across the room, “Finish saying hi to Cinderella and I’ll take you to meet Elsa right after this.”

The little girl squeals in happiness before running over to the woman in blue, who he knows is giving him a knowing look. Jeonghan fits into his spot next to you, whispering through a smile, “So… churros at 3:30 then?”

You beam at him, nodding, “It’s a date.”

[simpsiren]

lee donghyuck x reader, ft. johnny and dreamies

description. I’m working at an arcade, but I’m also the top scorer of the DDR machine. It was easy to guard my position till a sudden regular comes by and tries to beat it. But we somehow ended up at the beach?

genre. angst (at first), fluff, arcade au, strangers to lovers au

word count. 8.2k

a/n. hEllOo i felt like writing this just because i crave going to the arcade but its way too expensive for my broke ass so i can only write what i wish :’) so eNjoY!!

“How do you still have the energy to play that?” I hear the familiar voice and footsteps walking towards the DDR machine where I was at. I glance to him for a moment, seeing him sipping on his Starbucks coffee.

“Working at an arcade is probably the easiest job ever.” I breathe out, my eyes and feet concentrated on the game. I feel Johnny’s hand leaning on the handle behind me while he watches me.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Johnny mutters sarcastically. I stomp on the last beat and wait impatiently for my score, the numbers increasing at an extremely fast rate.

“No fucking way!” Johnny exclaims, his hand beating the handle vigorously as the two of us see the final score. I chuckle and got off the plate, snatching Johnny’s coffee from him to take a sip.

“I’m amazing.” I say with utter confidence, shoving the coffee back on Johnny’s chest, causing him to fall back a little while I make my way to the staff’s room.

Johnny silently follows behind me, waiting in front of the counter while I grab my bag and check if I left anything behind before going up to him. “Thanks for always fetching me from work.” Johnny and I made our way out of the arcade. I didn’t bother to close up since it was my other colleague’s job anyways.

“Yeah so where’s my pay?” Johnny puts his hand out and motions it to me as if he’s asking for money. I roll my eyes and faked my exasperation. “You aren’t my Grab driver so shut it.” I nudged my elbow to Johnny’s as the two of us chuckle and left the mall.

While Johnny’s driving me home, the two of us didn’t speak, with only music coming from the radio can be heard. Johnny clears his throat suddenly. I assume he was trying to break the silence so I turn my head to him and wait for him to say something.

“One question.” Johnny stated. I hum as a sign for him to continue. “Has anyone ever tried breaking your score on the DDR before?”

I pucker my lips as I try to think of an answer, quietly laughing to myself after thinking about it. Johnny raise an eyebrow at me, confused at my sudden laughter. “Plenty of times actually. But no one has ever officially beaten it.” I answer with a scoff.

“It’s so funny watching people get curious about KSY. They would never guess that it could be a worker at the arcade.” I elaborate. Johnny laughs, now knowing why I was laughing to myself earlier.

“Let’s make a bet.” Johnny suddenly announces, his eyes off the road and to you, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. I copy his expression, tilting my head to the side. “Bet on what, John?”

“The first person that beats your score.” Johnny replies nonchalantly. “Within three months, if someone actually beats you, I win. If not, then I don’t.”

“What’s the prize for winning?”

“If I win, you get me an unlimited arcade card like yours.”

I gape my mouth at his statement, gasping and widening my eyes. A card is used as an access system in the arcade, meaning that you need to have money in your card and scan it on the machine as payment before you can play. Having an unlimited card meant that you didn’t have to pay for any of the games at all.

“You do know that’s for staff only right? It’s off limits. Choose another prize.”

Johnny simply shrugs, clearly saying that he doesn’t care how rare the card is, as long as he could get it. “If I lose, I’ll treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months.” Johnny raises his hand that was laying on his thigh and slicing it through the air.

I bite the inside of my right cheek as I thought about the bet. I already knew I’d win. In my whole two years of working there and playing DDR, no one has beaten me. Not once. And I never needed to try hard to keep my title. But for the fun of if, I accepted. Who knows? Maybe someone will sweep me off my feet unexpectedly.

Two months have passed and the bet Johnny made with me still stands. I had my eyes on the DDR machine every time someone gets on. Half of them played for the fun of it while the other are trying their best to beat me. But I could tell from their moves that they didn’t have what it took to even reach my standard.

“Honestly let’s just call off the bet and have me win.” I tell Johnny who’s here during my break since he wanted to visit me. I rest my chin on the palm of my hand as my body leans forward on the counter and my eyes fixated on the DDR machine which currently has no one playing.

“Bitch I still have a month to prove that one person- One person, can beat you.” Johnny holds out his index finger, shoving it in my face with fury. I heaved a sigh. Johnny’s a determined man indeed.

Just as Johnny and I were talking about having dinner after I get off work, a guy walks in the arcade. I don’t know why but, he caught my eye. I glanced at him but did a double-take instantly.

He comes striding in with a lazy posture, hands in his black jeans while he wears a white shirt and black leather jacket. The most outstanding feature of his is the face. That was probably the reason why he caught my eye in the first place.

He goes to the top up machine, probably to put money in his card. And the first place he goes to is the DDR machine. Suddenly, Johnny starts slapping my arm vigorously. My unimpressed reaction didn’t seem stop him. “We should watch him! He’s going to play.” Johnny seems so excited that he’s jumping a little.

“Oh my God calm down.” I smack Johnny’s arm hard, making him wince in pain but recovered soon enough and quiet down.

The guy stands on the plate and scans his card, shoving it in his front pocket. He starts choosing a song. To my surprise, he chooses the song that I played yesterday with a level difficulty of hard. Clearly, he’s aim is to beat my score.

Someone from the entrance suddenly calls out a name. The guy turned his head to the voice, raising his hand up to greet the other while he walks towards the DDR machine. I couldn’t hear what they were saying due to the sounds from the other games that dominates the whole arcade.

He finally starts to play. The moment he presses on the first beat, my mouth gaps open. My jaw practically dropped to the floor due to the wave of shock I suddenly felt. Whoever he is, he’s definitely a professional at DDR. His feet moves at immense speed as he hits every single beat perfectly, his hands casually chilling on the handle.

He seems unfazed by the difficulty of the song, tilting his head while he watches the screen, as if boring his eyes into it. “I can’t believe this...” I mutter in awe, completely mesmerised by the way the guy moves.

A large crowd slowly starts to gather around him as everyone whispers to each other and being amazed. He hits the final beat. Claps and cheers can be heard from all over the arcade. All the attention went to him and the screen as everyone waits anxiously for the score.

“Seems like he can beat you.” Johnny whispers to me, his elbow nudging on mine. I let out a ‘tsk’ and throw him a glare. “Let’s see the score first.”

The numbers increase rapidly. It going as high as mine usually would. The number finally stops as it enlarges on the screen. Disappointing sighs and noises can be heard.

“Five points away?!” Johnny shouts unbelievably. I place a hand on my chest and give myself time to get my breathing back to normal. “That was so close. Too close.” I say.

The crowd starts to disperse as the arcade goes back to its normal state with only the one guy that called him out at the entrance. The guy gets off the plate as I would just assume the other to be his friend, patting his shoulder as a sign of a job well done.

The two proceeded to play other games and exit two hours later. I didn’t have my eye on them the whole time, obviously. But I wouldn’t be surprise if he comes by regularly from now on to try and beat my score. On top of that, I’d be intrigued if I get to see a new face around here more often. At least I’ll have someone with breathtaking looks to admire about if work gets boring.

Since it’s a Monday, the arcade is not crowded. Meaning that I’d have a lot more free time. I decide to do the homework that I have for the holidays. All I can think about is completing it all so that I can focus on work and get money.

Money. That is all I care about honestly.

However, my eyes lifted off my math paper to meet the eyes of him. The guy that almost beat my score. This is the second time I’m seeing him since he didn’t come by for a week after the huge uproar he brought to the arcade.

Our eyes only met for a split second before he walks by. My eyes are still on him, watching his back. His extremely good looking face still amazes me nonetheless. He didn’t play the DDR machine, and instead went to the motorcycle one. He stayed there for quite some time actually. He didn’t play other games.

I continue to do my homework. Just when I’m going to place my pen on the paper, I hear the sound of the DDR machine. I lifted my head up again, seeing him standing on the plate. He picked the same song, same difficulty. Is he going to try again?

The music starts and he starts moving his feet. I’m still amazed by him. It felt like I was watching him play for the first time. It’s shocking how I’ve never seen someone this good come by the arcade ever. It felt refreshing in a way. He felt like a competitor almost. He gets me anxious when I see him play.

The music finally ends. I wait for the score. The moment I did, my pen drops. My fingers releasing its grip on it as my eyes widen and blinked rapidly.

He jumps on the plate happily, seeing the score as his username goes up the rank and tops mine. He ran a hand through his hair flawlessly. How is he still looking so good after playing that intensely? I have mixed feelings about this.

I start to grow furious. The title I’ve been holding on to for so long suddenly got snatched away. Now that— just set off the competitive side of me. He’s definitely a challenge, an opponent. No doubt in that. I didn’t need to watch him play any more to know that.

He jumps off the plate, shaking one leg recklessly and did the same to the other. He turns his head back, seeing his username as the top ranked.

LDH. I’ll have to take note of that username

Before he left, his eyes scans across the arcade. His eyes meets mine and we made eye contact again. He lets out a small smile. A very small and effortless one. He looks extremely proud of himself, almost arrogant in fact. I’m pissed at him but I couldn’t get the fact that he’s good looking out of my mind.

Well, that settles it. I’m going to get my title back the moment I end my shift.

Later that night, the moment my shift ended, to be honest it didn’t exactly matter since my boss would only come by an hour later, I immediately went to the DDR machine, scanned my card and played.

I played vigorously. With immense concentration. My only thought was to keep LDH off my rank. My top rank. I played so seriously that I didn’t even notice Johnny coming in to pick me up.

“Are you mad or something? Letting off steam?” Johnny asks when I finish and wait for my score, almost sounding concern with how I played. “You won.” I let out.

Johnny doesn’t reply, probably taking his time to process what I meant. “I won the bet?!” Johnny finally shouts. My score appears on the screen. Luckily, my rank went back up to the top. Johnny looks at the screen and laughs hysterically, slapping his thighs and clapping.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it?! The handsome dude!” Johnny skips behind me while I went to the back to grab my stuff. I got back to him and run a hand through my hair, taking deep breaths. “I’ll get you your card, damn it.” I suspire in defeat.

“I remember him clearly because of how attractive he is. What a refreshing sight for the town.”

No shit, Sherlock.

Johnny leans down and places a quick friendly peck on my cheek, causing me to furrow my eyebrows and scrunch up my nose in disgust.

“So, how about bubble tea tonight?” I stop in my tracks, sharply turning a full forty five degrees to Johnny. He flinches back and shivers at my sudden move.

“Bubble tea? I thought I won’t be getting any.” I say with suspicion filling my tone, a raised brow as well as narrowed eyes. Johnny chuckles and shakes his head, bringing a hand out to pat my head.

“I said I’d treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months. But I didn’t say I won’t treat you if you lost the bet.” Johnny replies casually.

I grin widely and link my arm around his. “Let’s skip our way to the car, shall we?” Johnny could only laugh.

We bought our bubble tea and decided to just sit on the roadside in front of the store. The two of us stare into the night sky, comfortable silence filled the air.

“Hey.” Johnny suddenly lets out. I bring my head down to look at him. “Aren’t you curious to find out who LDH is?”

I raise a brow in confusion. “I already know him? His looks make him unforgettable.” I say, swirling my drink around.

“No, idiot. I meant his name. LDH must be his nickname or initials.”

I look up and start to think about it. Johnny waits silently for my answer, hearing him sipping on his drink and chewing on the pearls. “Mm I can’t think of a korean name who’s initials are LDH.” I reply back

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get to know him soon if he’s going to come back.” I let out.

“Maybe he’ll see that I topped him.” I mutter with a light shrug.

And of course, he did. He comes back the next day and goes to the DDR machine. His eyes are stuck to the screen. I assume he’s surprised and confused as to how his rank dropped back down to second place in the span of one night.

He jerks his head to the side and take no hesitation to scan his card. Wanting to be the first again. You would think I am surprise to find out that he scored higher than me, but I wasn’t. I knew he was capable, and a strong competitor.

Once again I had to play after my shift to claim back my rank. And after that day, it got hectic. He would come by everyday and see that I’ve been ranked first. And he’ll have to play again. It went back and forth. Everyday it felt as though I was competing with him. And he never seems to give up either.

Over the days, people would come by and have looks of confusion, question marks floating around them as they wonder why KSY and LDH keep switching ranks every single day.

There was no end to this. It feels like I’ve been doing it for months (though it has only been three weeks). Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t tired of playing DDR. I’m just annoyed at the guy who keeps wanting to steal my rank.

He’s without a doubt the first person that has ever shaken me off my calm pride.

Haechan and Jaemin decides to have a lunch date with Jaemin’s brother, Mark. The three eat happily, talking about how each of their lives are going.

“What have you been doing? It’s your school holidays, isn’t it?” Mark asks Haechan, scraping off every last bit of food on his plate.

“I’ve just been going to the arcade.” Haechan replies simply. Jaemin suddenly slams his hand in front of Mark, making him flinch in shock as it seems like Jeno wants to tell Mark something.

“I saw him play DDR. He was amazing! He even beat the top ranker who apparently hasn’t had anyone beaten them for two years!” Jaemin exclaims. Mark gapes his mouth open in shock as a wide smile appears on his lips.

Mark reaches his hand out to pat Haechan on the side of his arm. “Those dance lessons seem to pay off, huh?”

Haechan nods happily, but his expression soon changes to a weird one that Jaemin and Mark couldn’t make out. “But you know...” Haechan starts.

“Every single day I come by, I always find my rank going back to second. I kid you not the top scorer that I beat always comes back to play and rank first. It’s tiring how I have to constantly play to beat them.” Haechan complains, scratching his head and ruffling his hair.

“Look at you being all furious because of your competitive ass.” Jaemin teases. Haechan could only throw him a death glare.

“Maybe they come by everyday too? I mean of course they would want to keep their position as the best one at DDR.” Mark shrugs. He picks up his drink, wanting to take a sip but realises that he already finished it and went to place it back down on the table with a slight frown.

“How?! I come by everyday but I see no regulars there!” Haechan shouts softly, he would have been screaming if he’s not in a restaurant right now.

“I agree. I mean I don’t go there often but whenever I do I don’t see anyone that goes there everyday like Haechan.” Jaemin adds.

“It’s like it changes overnight!”

The table grows silent. Haechan’s eyes were specifically on Mark, wanting to see his reaction to this. Mark leans in, glancing down at the table before meeting Haechan’s eyes. “I’d say you just stay there the whole day and wait for this KSY to play.”

A line appears in between Haechan’s brows as his forehead creases, looking skeptical. “You want me to stay there from the time they open to when they close?! Mark that’s like ten hours.” Haechan shakes his head and waves a lazy hand to Mark.

“It’s not a bad idea. You don’t know when KSY comes so the only way you can know is if you stay the whole time.” Jaemin adds.

“You go there everyday. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Haechan sighs and looks down on his empty plate. If he’s going to settle this once and for all with KSY, he’ll have to meet him at some point. He guess that this was the only way.

“It’s worth the shot.”

Unfortunately, I had to work the whole shift from morning till night today. But it didn’t really matter to me, since I know I’ll be seeing LDH again today.

To my surprise, he’s the first one here. And I just opened the arcade an hour ago. I couldn’t help but wonder who would come this early. Usually people would start coming in at least three hour after it opens.

His hair looked messy, yet it’s able to frame his face perfectly. His features still effortlessly beautiful despite wearing a baggy sweater and sweatpants.

He goes to play other games. He’s been playing for two hours now before leaving the arcade. I assume he left completely but he comes back with a McDonald takeaway, bringing it to the lounge area and eating breakfast there.

I found it extremely suspicious. I have never seen anyone acting like this in arcade before. Was it some kind of challenge? To stay in the arcade the whole time?

Hours went by, I did my work as usual. He’s still here. Sometimes he would be playing, and sometimes he would be in the lounge area. What surprised me the most is that he’s constantly looking at the DDR machine. His eyes immediately went there the moment someone stood on the plate. It looks like he’s keeping track of who’s going there. And I can only wonder why the whole day.

It’s now closing hours. My colleagues and I are cleaning our assigned areas and doing our jobs. I make my way to the lounge area.

I open the door and his eyes instantly went off his phone and to mine. “We’re closing now. You should get going.”

His lips form a thin line. Again he moves his head aside, looking at the DDR machine. I turn my head back, acting as if I didn’t know what he’s looking at. “You’ve been here the whole day. Care to tell me why?” I ask, going to the trashcan in the corner and taking out the plastic bag.

“Uh no reason. I’ll leave.” He simply say, rising from the couch and walking past me.

“Why didn’t they come today...?” I hear him mutter as he scratches his head. He leaves the lounge area. I look back, watching him walk out the arcade.

My lips purse into a thin line as I try to make out what he said to himself? Was he waiting for someone? He was looking at the DDR machine the whole day.

As I walk out to throw away the trash, I didn’t take me long to figure out why. “Was he looking for me?” I ask to myself. A wide smirk appears on my lips absentmindedly as I giggle softly, walking back to the arcade and seeing Johnny waiting for me by the counter.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.”

I see Johnny holding my bag in his hand. I assume he went to the back and took it for me. He hands it to me as we walk out of the arcade. “What happened?” Johnny asks curiously.

“Handsome dude was in the arcade the whole day.” I answer, brushing away strands of hair from my forehead. “The whole day?! Since you opened?”

I nod instantly. Johnny looks up to the sky with a weird face. “I mean I know he has the lounge area but being there for ten hours?”

I let out a chuckle. “He eats breakfast, lunch and dinner there too.”

“Why would he do that though? Does he not have a life?” That’s when my wide smirk appears again. Johnny gives a suspicious look to my reaction.

“He was looking for KSY.” Johnny’s mouth gapes open, laughing hysterically after a moment of just staring at me in disbelief. “Are you serious?! He waited all day and he doesn’t even know that it’s you!” The two of us laugh for a whole minute, finding it funny and unbelievable.

“I feel bad though. He didn’t even play DDR today.” I comment. “Won’t be surprised if he comes back today and stays there again.”

“You’re so mean if you just let him wait and not find out that it’s you.” Johnny shoves a hand in his pocket.

I bob my shoulders and shrug. “We’ll see how long he can hold up then.”

The next day, he comes back again. He did the same routine. Getting meals and staying in the lounge area. He did play some games, but his attention was solely on the DDR machine. I don’t know how he’s not sick of doing this since it’s been a week now. Though I find it funny at first, I started to feel bad for him.

“Are you perhaps waiting for someone?” I ask, wanting to tease him a little as I walk in the lounge room. His body slumps into the soft couch. He grabs a pillow from behind and hugs it tight.

“No shit I’ve been waiting for a week for this person to show up.” He mumbles in frustration. Letting out a soft chuckle, I fold my arms and shifted my weight onto one leg.

“Is he or she a regular like you?”

His eyes slowly lifts off from the pillow and to me, going from the bottom up before meeting my eyes and glaring. “I guess? I don’t know. They keep getting back their rank in DDR after I take it. It’s driving me insane.”

I laugh, quickly covering it by looking behind and changing my expression back to a composed one. “What’s your name?” He raises a brow at my sudden question. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“Or just Haechan.”

My mouth opens slightly as I let out a soft “Ah...” while nodding my head. Beautiful name for a beautiful face. At least now I know what his initials meant. “I feel bad so it looks like I have to tell you.”

“Tell me what...?” I start walking closer to the couch, bending down to meet his eye level. He looks at me suspiciously with his blank expression.

“KSY is me.” I let out, grinning widely.

Haechy tilts his head to the side, his eyes looking at me up and down as he blinks rapidly and scoffs in disbelief. “There’s no way.” He runs a hand down his face and glances to the side constantly. I puts a finger in front of me, moving it up and down. “You? A worker? KSY?!”

I nod, bringing all my hair down to one shoulder. I open the door, turning my head to Haechan and jerking my head to the side. “Aren’t you going out?” I couldn’t help but think about how funny his face looks right now.

The two of us stare at each other for at least fifteen seconds before Haechan shakes his head vigorously and stands up, dashing past me and out of the room. I turn back to look at it one last time before switching off the lights and leaving as well.

“So you’re KSY? The annoying one that keeps ranking first after I beat you?!” Haechan exclaims. I laugh, clapping my hands and nodding happily. Jaemin runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“Of course you won’t. Who would’ve thought it’s a worker?” I lift my shoulders up and give a cheeky smile. Haechan folds his arms as he stands in front of me. “I don’t know if I’m currently mad or surprised.”

“I can confirm it’s both.” I say with confidence. Since Johnny’s busy tonight, I unfortunately have to go home alone.

“Let’s battle.” Haechan suddenly announces with a smug and arrogant look on his face. I scoff. “You should really just be happy you’re second. You know I’ll just take back the first ranking instantly after you beat it.” I satire.

Haechan frowns and lifts a finger in front of me, waving it in my face while he shakes his head. “The one who wins the battle gets to claim the top for life. We’ll settle it once and for all.”

I nod my head slowly while I grab my things and head out. For some reason he’s following me. “Hello? I need an answer.” Haechan lets out, running up and walking beside me. I turn my head and give him an unimpressed smile. “Fine then. Though I can only play once my shift ends so.”

Haechan claps his hands once and shouts, making me flinch back slightly at his loud voice. “So that’s why it keeps changing overnight!”

I brought a palm to my forehead. “Duh.” I deadpan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” Haechan walks in front of me, walking backwards while he gives a cheeky winks and runs off.

I scoff and raise an eyebrow as I watch him running out of the mall. I shove my hands in my pockets and tilt my head. He’s interesting.

“Oi! You guys won’t belive what I just found out!” Haechan burts into the dorms, dashing to the living room where all the members gathered.

“What now, Haechan?” Chenle asks sarcastically, slamming a card down on the table. “It’s your turn Renjun.” The room grows silent as Renjun squints his eyes while trying to find a card. “Plus four for you, Jeno!”

Haechan steals a seat from Jeno, pushing him off to the side and slamming both hands palms down on the table. All heads instantly turning to Haechan. “Are you guys seriously playing Uno without me?!” He places a hand on his chest and gasps with a sarcastic shocking look.

“Jaemin told us that you’re going to be at the arcade the whole day so we were having fun by ourselves.” Jeno adds, pushing Haechan away slightly so that he’ll have some space at the table.

“Anyways! I finally found out who KSY is!”

Everyone lets out a sigh in unison. Haechan narrows his eyes at his members’ weird reaction. “It’s been a week. That took you long.” Jisung replies.

“Do you guys want to guess who?” A wide smile appears on Haechan’s lips as he waits for his friends. “A guy with strong arms like Jeno?” Jaemin asks back, resting his elbow on Jeno’s shoulder while he leans in close to Jeno’s face. Jeno turns his head to Jaemin and smiles softly before roughly throwing his elbow off.

Haechan shakes his head vigorously. “A nerd?” Renjun guesses, bobbing his shoulders. Heachan gives the same answer.

“Just tell us already, idiot!” Chenle reaches his hand out to smack Haechan in the head lightly. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’. “It’s a girl. And she’s working at the arcade.”

The room grows silent once again. Some had their eyes widen with opened mouth while the rest had a blank expression that Haechan assumes to be their ‘disbelief faces’.

“You serious? A girl?” Jisung’s the first to speak, a hand moving up slowly to cover his mouth. Haechan nods. “Can you believe a girl can have that much strength to be ranked first?!” Haechan exclaims.

“Well that was unexpected.” Jeno adds. Renjun replies with a similar comment as well. “There’s more!”

No one replies, urging Haechan to continue. “I’m going to have a battle with her tomorrow night!” This time, everyone’s faces become mors shocked than before. “Oh my God we should all go!” Jaemin smiles widely while clapping his hands.

“I’m so down to see Haechan get wrecked by a girl.” Chenle says with a slight smirk. Haechan stands up and walks to him, sitting down next to him to give a smack on the head, making Chenle wince due to the force.

“You don’t know that. He’s been switching the first place ranking with her for so long. Anything can happen.” Jeno retorts lazily with a shrug. “Thank you for the nice word of encouragement, Jeno.”

“I said anything can happen. You still have the chance of losing.” Jeno adds on carelessly, causing the group to burst out laughing. Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just follow me to the arcade tomorrow.”

Everyones nods their heads, looking over at Haechan. He smiles widely and claps his hand once. “Alright it’s settled. Now let’s play some Uno.” Haechan beats his hand on the table.

Renjun gathers up all the card and starts shuffling them.

Before my shift starts, I went to play a few rounds of DDR machine to warm my legs up for the game I’ll have with Haechan tonight. I’m not sure if I’m excited to be battling against such a handsome guy or be scared at the fact that he can actually beat me. I know I won’t be able to play anymore so this morning’s my only chance to prepare.

I texted Johnny during lunch, telling him about the unexpected battle i’ll be having. He replies me instantly with a, I’ll be there by seven! Can’t wait to watch you! I chuckle at his reply and continued to work till evening.

It’s seven now and as promised, Johnny shows up from work. “You ready?” Johnny asks.

I crack my neck swiftly and nod my head. “Ready to beat Lee Donghyuck.”

“So that’s his name?” Johnny asks again, looking slightly surprised. I frown and shrug my shoulders. “Apparently so.”

Johnny and I had our eyes on the DDR machine, no words being exchanged for about three minutes. “What time is he coming though?” Johnny turns question me.

“I’m not sure. He told me he’ll be here at night.” I reply simply, resting my chin on the palm of my hand. Johnny copies my posture as the two of us allow time to pass by with talking about anything.

Johnny eyes suddenly widen. So wide that it looks scary to me, as his finger point to the back of me. I turn around to the entrance. I see Haechan walking in, though I feel slightly intimidated with who he brought in. They looked like a gang or something.

Haechan raises a hand and waves at me. I bowed my head slightly in response. All of them head to where Johnny and I were at.

“So this is her?” One of them ask with a skeptical brow. Haechan nods bringing a hand up to motion go me. “Yeah! She’s... Uh sorry I didn’t get your name last time.” Haechan stutters.

“Oh it’s _____” I reply with a soft smile. All of them nod their heads. “When we starting? I wanna watch you and Haechan!” The small figured one asks with excitement filling his tone.

“Should go warm up first. She’ll smash you if you don’t.” Johnny brags out, placing his elbow on my shoulder and using my height as a leaning device for him. “He scares me. Look he’s so tall.” The same guy voices out, pointing to Johnny.

Johnny gasps, overreacting. “Told you that you look intimidating. You’re too tall.” I say, forcefully shoving his elbow off me. “Not my fault!” Johnny whines. Haechan nods his head and goes to the DDR machine, his friends following behind him.

Johnny and I were still behind the counter, so comfortable in our seats that we’ll practically whine if we’re dragged off. We both had our serious faces on in a way to intimidate them. But that’s a fail since everyone had their eyes on Haechan as he scans his card and picks a song.

“Saving your energy?!” I shout across to them, noticing that he picked a relatively simple song at medium difficulty. Haechan turns around and smirks widely. Not sure whether to find that hot or annoying. “Of course.” Haechan shouts back, a chuckle appearing slightly after.

I wasn’t actually paying attention to him play. My eyes are glued to my phone screen while I scroll through Twitter to catch up on the drama I’ve missed. Time felt like it flew by in a second when Haechan call up my name. I tilt my head up, seeing him motioning one hand up that signaled me to go there. I place my phone screen down on the counter and make my way to the DDR machine, with Johnny following behind me and joining Haechan’s group of friends that’s surrounding the plate.

“Song?” Haechan asks. I jerk my head to the side, leaning back and placing my hands on the handle behind me. “Your pick.” I reply casually. Haechan chuckles and starts browsing through, picking a song in no time, difficulty level on high and setting the game to battle mode.

The screen starts showing the countdown in both screens. Haechan and I lowered our bodies in a stance position as the numbers start going down from ten.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

“Go!” Everyone shouts in unison.

The amount of concentration I had in this game shocked me. The last time I put in this much effort into something was my finals this year. I didn’t bother looking at Haechan since I’m focusing on myself only, making sure my feet were in sync and I’m getting a ‘Super perfect’ every time.

Everyone’s silent, only the music filling the entire arcade. The song finally ends, Haechan and I desperately gasping for air while the rest gives up an applause. Our heads shot up to the screen, seeing the numbers on both screens increasing rapidly.

“Woah!” Johnny shouts. My eyes widen, making sure I’m seeing the score correctly. I immediately jump happily and off the plate, going to Johnny and slapping his chest with my arms. “I won!”

Haechan and his group of friends are currently silent, with Haechan’s heavy breathing to be the only noise surrounding them. Disappointing sighs and groans came soon after.

“Get off the district of this town!” I burst at them mockingly with a devil-like laughter. Haechan runs a hand through his locks, shaking his head vigorously and glancing upwards before turning to me.

“You win.” Haechan mumbles in defeat. I giggle and walk over to him, lightly punching the side of his arm. “You did well.” I reassure Haechan. He suspires once again. “I don’t owe you anything then?”

“Oh right we didn’t discuss the prize!”

I fold my arms and look up, proceeding to think. “Treat me a meal. And bubble tea. For three months.” I cock up both eyebrows with an evil smirk. Haechan scoffs, refusing to believe that’s my request. “I mean I did make a bet with Johnny and since I lost that I am now going to take advantage of this situation.” I lean back slightly with one shoulder down.

“Fine.”

I got his number and we made a decision of meeting at the bus stop today. I’m the first here, looking down at my phone while I scroll down my playlist to find a song to play. It wasn’t even twenty seconds in till a finger taps on my shoulder.

I frown slightly, not being able to listen to my favourite song but quickly smile as I see Haechan taking a seat beside me. “Where we headed?” I ask curiously. I did say to me out for a meal, but he didn’t specify where. “Are you okay with travelling on the bus for about an hour?” Haechan questions me back.

I shrug my shoulders, leaning back against the glass behind the seat. “I love long bus rides.” Haechan nods his head and grins. “Good. I have a perfect place.”

“Aren’t going to kidnap me are you?” Haechan chuckles at my skepticism. “Want me to do that?” I furrow my eyebrows, laughing softly after and shaking my head.

A few minutes of silence passes by. I hate the awkwardness that filled the gap between us. Luckily, Haechan stands up suddenly, signaling that the bus has arrived.

We got in and took a random spot. Haechan allows me to sit inside, motioning his hand out to the seat. So he’s good looking and a gentleman? Shit.

“You’re seriously really good at DDR.” Haechan suddenly speaks up. I pucker my lips. “Been playing ever since I worked at the arcade. Which was two years ago.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “I’m guessing you like music a lot?” I nod in reply. “Very. It’s like my emotional support for when I sometimes feel like jamming my head into the wall.” Haechan laughs loudly at my comment, surprised at my unique, but also not, humor.

“I love music, too. I actually sing.” I widen my eyes at his sentence. Haechan chuckles for a quick moment. “You won’t hear it, unfortunately. I only sing for my friends.” I let out a pout, punching him in the chest gently. “Oh come on. I beat you at DDR that day. Why not let me listen to you as a bonus?” I wink at him playfully. Haechan huffs. “When we get there, then.” He shrugs. I giggle and look out the window. Once again silence overtook us.

Haechan and I wear our earpieces at the same time, proceeding to look down at our phone and playing a song. My eyes were looking out the window, admiring the plain view of the town. I wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but I know for a fact that I went through a lot of my songs in my playlist already.

Suddenly, a beach comes into view. I see the sand and the sky, to make things better it’s currently sunset hour. Beautiful colour and shades from red to yellow and even pink filling the sky, matching the vibe of the beach perfectly.

Haechan taps in my shoulder and jerks his head to the side, telling me this is our stop. The two of us got down and remove our earpieces, the bus driving past us and the view returning back. “We’re eating by the beach?!” I question Haechan.

He smiles softly. I look down at his outfit. His shorts and button up shirt suiting the location perfectly, along with his hair that framed his face and eventuates his features beautifully.

“Come on.” Haechan grabs my wrist and drags me off, having me to run while he picks up the speed. I laugh, somewhat happy that he brought me here.

Haechan slows down, his hand still on my wrist as we end up in front of an open restaurant. There isn’t any inside, only the kitchen and serving area being hidden by walls. The place is beautiful. It was fairy lights hanging over the wooden ceiling that was bare to allow us to see the night sky, colourful wooden planks as the floor and wooden chairs and tables. There’s also swings and hammocks too. It’s the whole vibe of the place that’s bringing me so much happiness.

I guess it’s too obvious when I feel Haechan swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Already liking it I see.” He leans down to whisper to me. His voice sounded normal but it sent shivers down my spine and his voice echoed in my head while he leads me to a seat.

I sit down while he takes the seat opposite mine. He leans forward against the table, his elbows resting on his casually. “Trust me, the food here is great.” Haechan speaks. “The best I’ve had so far.” He adds, bringing a hand up and slicing it in the air, sticking his tongue out slightly.

I simply smile and nod, looking around the place after as I still couldn’t believe that I’m here. It’s been so long since I’ve been in such an atmosphere so it really did an impact on me. “Are you like popular in the DDR realm?” I suddenly ask, my head shooting down to him. Heachan lifts the side of his lips ever so slightly. “I mean in a few towns where I took over all the arcade mall.”

“Talented indeed.”

We ordered our food and ate. Surprisingly, we were able to talk a lot. We didn’t have an exact topic. We just speak whatever came to our mind. Haechan really did keep up the conversation well and it wasn’t hard to talk to him at all. I liked it. Quite a lot actually.

I only thought of eating and going home. But now, I just can’t pass up the chance of just sitting by the beach. And that’s what we did. We borrowed a matt from the restaurant and sat on it while looking out into the scenery ahead of us.

It got windy as the night settles in, the cold breeze passing by and making contact with my skin that made me feel at ease almost instantly. “You do this often? Going to the beach?” I whisper, hugging my knees into my chest and laying my chin on one knee. I tilt my head to the side.

“I used to. Until I got busy with life and shit.” Haechan whispers back. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on him. The way his hair flows and got messy due to the wind, his side profile looking as perfect as I first saw it. And the night sky that served as a background for him to shine.

“Why not we have a battle once a week? Or whenever you’re free. Whoever loses treats the other to a mea at the same restaurant.” I suggest. Though my hidden agenda to it was so that I could see Haechan more often.

“I think that’ll be too tiring. Let’s just come here whenever we’re free.” Haechan retorts back, placing his hands behind him and leaning backwards. “We can hang out more.” Did he really just read my mind or something?

I let out a calming sigh, taking a moment to breathe in the sea air and watching the small waves come to shore, with the water reflecting the light of the night.

“I’d love that.”

Ever since then, I went out with Haechan more often. Going to the same beach, same restaurant and spending time together by the beach, doing anything basically. Though as time passed and we were getting more busy with our separate lives, we never fail to exclude one day from our week just to be with each other.

Our relationship eventually escalated. We naturally started holding hands and giving each other light pecks on the lips, cheeks or forehead. His subtle actions always sending a shock through my body, but it soothed me at the same time as well. My feelings for him bloomed more over time. And Haechan reciprocated it in a heartbeat.

Today was no different. We’re at the beach yet again. But this time, our nosy friends decided to come along.

We are huddled together, everyone relaxing as we watch the scenery. Despite it being the afternoon, the sky, sea and sand is still as beautiful. We spent the day playing a lot of games. Card games, hand games, even burning bridges. We really did everything. And I loved every second of it, since I had Haechan sitting beside me.

“You guys want anything? We should get more drinks.” I say, pointing to the plastic bag that was filled with empty canned drinks and bottles. Everyone nods their head in unison. I smile happily and stand up, wiping the excess sand on my bottom while reaching out to grab the plastic bag.

“Haechan, follow me.” He looks up to me. We had the same thought. Wanting to be alone together. “What am I, a servant for these idiots?” He jokes, though I know he’ll follow me regardless. “Idiots?! Look at you dumbass!” Chenle retorts,

The groups laughs, shaking their heads. Haechan throws them a death glare and immediately sent the group into silence as they see his intimidating expression. He stands up and walks over to me. “Text what you guys want.” I wave my phone up in the air before leaving to the restaurant with Haechan.

“Why did they have to come today? I wanted to be alone with you.” Haechan whines after checking if we’re out of our friends’ sight.

Haechan pulls me close by the waist. I laugh and place my hands on the side of his arms. “We’ve been doing that for so long. They lighten the mood up.”

Haechan frowns but gives a soft peck on the crown of my head. My phone dings. I lifted it to check and see that Mark sent me a list of their wanted drinks. Haechan still had his arm around my waist as he keep me close from the time we ordered to the time we were walking back, putting his arm down till the last second when our friends come into our view.

When we got there and take our seats, the group was oddly silent. All eyes were on us, with suspicious expression on their faces.

“So when are you going to tell us you’re dating?” Jaemin cocks up a brow while everyone folds their arms in unison.

I turn to Haechan, who looks at me as well before looking back to the front. “Huh..?” I say, acting taken aback.

“Don’t lie! I saw you two kissing while I went to the toilet!” Renjun exposes. I scrunch up my face and pout.

Haechan rolls his eyes and leans back. “I thought it was pretty obviously since I ditched a lot of my plans with you guys.” Haechan replies smugly.

“He got stolen by _____ from us!” Jisung huffs out. Haechan and I burst out laughing hysterically.

“He’s better taken away, though.” Jeno adds. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’.

I can only blush and laugh loudly as I watch Haechan beating up Jeno for his comment. Who would’ve thought it be here with a guy when we bonded over a DDR game?

[rhodeys]

I wish you would write a fic where tony has accidentally turned into a child and Rhodey has to babysit him Thanks !!

thank you for the prompt! 💞💞

(i may have had too much fun with this) 

The thing is, Rhodey's used to being greeted by an empty penthouse every time he decides to check up on Tony. It's precisely the reason why the rest of the penthouse blend into the background while he makes his way to the private elevator that leads to Tony's workshop – the sectional sofa, the mezzanine, the staircase leading to the mezzanine, the kid, the–

Rhodey does a double take. 

There's a child in the penthouse - staring back at him like a baby deer caught in the headlights. The child blinks, just once, before brown eyes are back to being impossibly wide over the tiny hand perched upon the glass handrail. He's wearing a black t-shirt that's ten sizes too big for him, the edges of it ending at his knees. His feet are on two different stairs, almost like he'd been in the middle of making his way down before Rhodey conveniently barged in. The child doesn't even move a muscle. 

"Uh," is all Rhodey says, eyes flicking around the penthouse in sudden uncertainty before he turns to the boy. "Hey." 

The boy continues to stare at Rhodey for five odd seconds, making the older man feel oddly conscious. And then, finally, a careful: "Hi." 

"Hey," Rhodey says again, softer now. "Are you alone here?" He scans the empty penthouse once more. "Where are your parents?" 

"Why?" The boy is quick to ask, tone changing as his eyes narrow, and Rhodey's never seen a five-six-whatever-year old sound so defensive. "Where are yours?" 

Rhodey's taken aback, if only for a brief second, at the sudden shift in tone. Brown eyes are no longer wide, but slitted with something close to suspicion. "They're not–" Rhodey starts. Stops. "I'm sorry. Just–" He turns his head away, still maintaining wary eye contact with the boy, and calls out in the general direction of Tony's bedroom. "Tony?" 

"Yeah?" The boy asks. 

"No, not– that's my friend," Rhodey elaborates, making a vague motion with his hands to the space around them. "Have you seen anyone else around here?" 

"Is your friend's name Tony, too?" The boy asks, slowly continuing to make his way down the stairs, sharp eyes still fixated on Rhodey. 

"Yeah. He's–" Rhodey starts, and then something the boy had said registers. "Wait. Too? What's your name?" 

The boy finally takes the last step, and it's right then that Rhodey sees the familiar design of Black Sabbath printed across the oversized t-shirt. The sleeves were pulled up and knotted at awkward angles to prevent it from dangling down tiny arms. "Tony," the boy says. 

Rhodey's lips part in growing surprise as he takes in the messy waves of dark hair, matched with a pair of brown eyes that shine too bright, the layer of chub across a familiar bone structure, and the all too familiar expression of suspicion that Rhodey was once subjected to in MIT – one that, over the years, had eventually been hidden behind a perfected mask of cool. "Tony."

"Yeah," the boy says, making a face like Rhodey's being stupid. "S'what I just said."

---

"I mean," Rhodey clarifies, pinching the bridge of his nose after Pepper had calmly pointed out through the call that Tony's always been a child. "He's an actual kid. Physically. He's–" he cuts off as he shifts his attention to Tony, who's scowling from the other end of the sectional with tiny arms crossed over his chest. "Do you know how old you are?" 

"Course I do," Tony huffs out, eyes narrowing in offense. "I'm eight."

"Eight? Kinda short for an eight year old, aren't you?" Rhodey teases, and Tony's eyes narrow even further. The boy looks away just as his cheeks flush pink at the jab aimed at his stature. 

"Wait. Is that Tony?" Pepper's voice filters through the phone. "It doesn't sound like him."

"Gee, I wonder why eight year old Tony doesn't sound like fifty year old Tony."

"How are you even sure it's him? Did you ask Jarvis?" 

"Trust me, I'm sure," Rhodey says, deciding against bringing up when eight year old Tony had unashamedly called out 'who's the broad?' the second Pepper answered the phone, which ended with Rhodey fumbling to put the phone off of speaker. 

"And Jarvis isn't responding. He must have gone down when Tony did– well, whatever he did." Rhodey sneaks a quick glance at his watch. It's been almost an hour since he walked into this debacle. "He should be back up soon." 

"Okay," Pepper says after a heavy sigh. Her calm demeanor doesn't even surprise Rhodey – god knows the pair of them have been through enough and more of Tony's eccentricity. When it comes to Tony, this is just another day for them. "Jim, listen. I'm still in DC, but I'll be there in a few hours." There's distinct shuffling from her side. "Just– stay put. Read him a book. Put him to sleep."

"Put him to–" Rhodey cuts himself off before he can even consider the ridiculousness of the suggestion. "This is Tony."

"And you're his best friend. Which is why I'm sure you'll figure something out." And by thrusting her sheer level of confidence upon Rhodey, Pepper ends the call, leaving him staring helplessly at the phone in his hand. He looks over at Tony, who immediately looks away, defensive hands still folded across his chest in an act of petulance. 

Pepper had a point, Rhodey figures. Smaller Tony can't differ much from the real deal. He just has to make Tony talk; keep him occupied. Maybe play an R-rated movie– 

"Keep staring at me like that, 'm gonna think you're a pedophile."

"Jesus Christ."

---

They're not even ten minutes into watching Eraserhead before Tony decides it's too unrealistic, and therefore not worth his time. 

"What?" Rhodey asks, barely able to suppress the disbelief in his voice. Tony loved this movie – even watched it twice a month, every month, while they were in MIT. Sure, it had Rhodey worried for Tony's sanity at first, but he got around to movie nights soon enough. "You love this movie."

"Nope," Tony says, and that's that.

---

"Aren't you too old to be a babysitter?" Tony asks after spending a whole of five minutes scrutinizing Rhodey with a fairly impressive stink eye.

Rhodey huffs out a breathy laugh. "Tell that to the guy who put me here."

"Maybe I will," Tony says pointedly – sounding like he fully intended to file a formal complaint. "Where is he?"

"You're talking to him," Rhodey says, which shuts Tony up.

---

Rhodey's making a mental checklist of how else he can entertain eight year old Tony who hates Eraserhead – when Jarvis comes online.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes," Jarvis greets, and Rhodey immediately shoots a silent prayer of gratitude to the AI. On the other side of the sectional, Tony's head jerks up in surprise from where he was fiddling with the StarkTab – eyes darting around for the voice. 

"I apologize for my inactivity. My servers may have been affected while Sir was testing the functions of…" Jarvis trails off, and there's a very telling silence that follows – Jarvis apparently having noticed Tony's absence and the kid's presence. Tony's still looking around for the source, and when his attempt turns futile, decides to zero in on Rhodey. 

"Mr. Rhodes," Jarvis starts, his words edging on hesitation. "Is that–" 

"Yep."

---

Tony takes it upon himself to find out the source of the voice. There's ten minutes of Tony opening and closing doors, crouching under tables, checking behind furniture five times his size, and because Tony - no matter the age – is still Tony, returns to where Rhodey's seated, newfound determination plastered across his face. "Who was that?"

"Who was who?" Rhodey asks, raising an innocent brow. 

"The guy who was just talking to you." 

"Don't see any guy here."

"I heard him."

"Heard who?" 

"The guy!" Tony blurts out hotly, throwing his arms out in frustration as his cheeks flush a shade of red. The movement makes the full sleeves of Tony's undershirt break from the knot Tony had made, resulting in them splaying out like loose wires before they end up dangling flimsily at his sides. Tony pays no mind, and Rhodey tries to pay no mind. 

"Which guy?" Rhodey asks, and he can barely contain his grin watching the way Tony puffs his chest, lips parting to make way for whatever childish blabber before they snap shut in annoyance. 

His face turns into a scowl as he brings his arms back across his chest, dangling sleeves and all. "Stop pulling my leg." 

"Whatever you say, kid."

"Not a kid."

"You're, like, five."

Tony looks like he's about to explode from frustration. "Eight!"

"Full fledged adult, then."

---

"You have a lot of grey hair," Tony speaks up all of a sudden, working on the offense this time. 

"You're short," Rhodey answers without missing a beat.

"But I'll grow," Tony says, grinning now, like he'd struck gold. "I'll be taller than you."

"Oh, yeah," Rhodey agrees for the sake of entertaining the kid, deciding against breaking his bubble as much as he'd like to. He adds an enthusiastic "definitely." 

Tony, self-proclaimed genius that he is, catches on to the intent. He looks almost giddy with excitement as he crawls over from his place on the sectional to where Rhodey's sitting. "You're jealous!" Tony exclaims, eyes shining in delight. "Aren't you? You're jealous that I'm gonna be taller than you!" 

"You got me, kid," Rhodey shrugs, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "What can I say? Life can be a– biscuit, sometimes."

"A bitch, you mean."

---

They go through the StarkPad together, not that Tony needed much help anyway, seeing as he already figured out most of how it works by himself. Rhodey gets his fair share of questions anyway, from why do people need such a big screen? to I can watch an entire movie in this?

"Ha, this makes you look even older!" is the first thing points out when Rhodey switches it to the front camera. 

"Yeah, yeah," Rhodey says smiling, and in a split second, contorts his face just as a grinning Tony holds up the tablet and takes a selfie of them. 

"This is so cool," Tony exclaims in barely contained excitement as he proceeds to take a dozen more pictures of himself, some of which Rhodey accidentally ends up in the background of. 

"Yeah, remember my friend Tony? He made it."

Tony perks up, suddenly more interested, and Rhodey thinks he's going to ask more about the StarkPad until– "Is he taller than you?" 

Rhodey snorts. "He wishes. Tony used to stuff paper balls into his shoes when we were in MIT. He wears heels now." 

"I know MIT! My dad studied there," Tony says, and Rhodey makes a surprised sound, like that wasn't news to him at all. Tony cocks his head, eyebrows knitting as if something just occurred to him. "Wait, how does he wear heels?" 

"He gets them custom made into his shoes."

A pause. Then: "And he's still shorter than you?" 

"Yep."

"That must suck balls."

"Yep."

---

"You never told me your name," Tony says out of the blue after spending a good few minutes drooling into Rhodey's shoulder while he was dead to the world.

"It's Jim."

Tony shifts, drawing his feet towards himself so he can curl into Rhodey's chest. "That's an old man's name," Tony points out softly. 

"Rhodey, then."

"How many names do you have?"

Honeybear, Platypus, Sourpatch– "A few."

"My name is Anthony," Tony says, voice softening even more, as if he'd pass out any moment now. "But nobody calls me that anymore."

"Thought you didn't like-"

"Because when they do, I kick 'em in the dick," Tony finishes, words coming out in soft mumble before he drifts back to sleep.

---

When Pepper walks into the penthouse an hour later and spots Tony snuggled against Rhodey's side, soaking his polo shirt wet with drool, she flashes him a triumphant smile. I told you so.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty five: a good boy

“that’s not how you move a closet! that’s the worst closet moving i’ve ever seen!” -jim gaffigan

Aurora had begun frequenting the San Francisco Bay Area more and more often from that point onward; given Sam was often riding back down to Los Angeles and onto Catalina Island, she only got to see her old friend for half of a day before one of them had to leave. Every single time, however, she noticed her growing bigger and bigger. To think that she had shown Sam another side to her all the while, and yet all she could think about was her mother's words in how when children were involved, things became harder to deal with. And even though he wasn't a kid anymore, she wondered how Alex was handling the whole feud between her and Aurora.

It only made sense to acknowlede it with him: he participated in her and Emile's wedding after all.

And in the meantime, Testament had fulfilled their time there at that studio and Eric had the final say with it all to Ruben, who made the mad dash back to the label itself in order to submit the new album. A month's time and they would take their stride alongside Metallica and everyone else: this little quintet out of the Bay Area about to nip at their heels and let the world know that they were in fact a force to be reckoned with.

But at one point, within mere hours of Eric handing the final tape over to Ruben, Sam found herself in a strange spot.

All the traveling to and fro between the Bay Area and Catalina Island. All the unsettled feelings and being divided up between both of her parents. The new beds each and every week. Every single time, a little harder on her. Every single time, she just wanted to stop for a second, if only to observe the oleanders as they bloomed against the San Francisco fog and the persistent cold despite winter's transformation into springtime. Some of them wilted and withered from the cold, but many of them returned once the sun poked out from behind the clouds, those five petals big and strong and either a deep shade of pink or pure white.

With Cliff, it was tulips. With Joey, deadly nightshade. With Alex, oleanders.

The end of April brought on the realization that Greg's birthday was coming up, as was Eric's. As if she needed more things to do as she met up with Alex at the cafe across the street from Ruben's house. Chuck and Tiffany had gone off somewhere else from that point out, and thus the two of them were once again left alone together.

He sat across from her and his long jet black hair fell down around his shoulders like a thick lush mane: that singular plume of gray stood almost upright over the right side of his brow like a little radio antenna. She eyed the collar of his shirt: the same shirt he wore when they made out in the pool room, and once more, he had undone the top two buttons and showed off a bit of his chest and his collar bones.

The soft scent of his cologne filled her nose even from across the table. He leaned back in his chair and kept his right hand close to the base of the cup. Sam leaned forward a bit as if she was making up for him.

“I still have yet to see your old high school,” she told him.

“I know you do,” he said with a thoughtful look on his face. “There's a lot you've just got to see around here, Samantha.”

He lifted his cup and brought it up to those sensual little lips, and then he lifted his gaze to her again.

“You sure you don't want anything?” he asked her.

“My dad's got stuff across the street,” she replied, and she sighed. He knitted his eyebrows together.

“Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself.”

She lowered her gaze to the glass cover on the table top. How she wanted to be back in New York with Joey and also Marla and Belinda: it also felt like a million years since she had heard a word from the Cherry Suicides as well, even as she put on that shirt for another day that day. The fatigue settled over her like a wave of sorts.

Ruben had promised her a cup of coffee at any point during the day if she so wished but even after a nice warm one earlier that morning, she still had a bit of trouble waking up all the way for Alex right across the table from her. She sighed through her nose again and she propped up the side of her head within the palm of her hand.

“I can't keep doing this,” Sam finally said to Alex. “This incessant going back and forth between my parents' houses and taking the stinkin' bus every time. It literally feels as though I haven't made any art in a million years even though it's only been a couple of months since I started doing this.”

“Why's that?”

“Traveling is hard on me,” she confessed. “And by hard I mean, it's not like touring. It's getting on the bus right as I get settled into my dad's house or my mom's house. It's having to see you guys for a week only to vanish again for another whole week. I can't keep doing this.”

She folded her hands upon the table's surface and she gazed down at the glass covering there before them. She looked on at her own reflection as it looked back up at her: her own dark eyes gazed back at her. Her skin was still tight and smooth with her teenage days: still young Samantha, little Sammie, but she had reached the age of twenty four by some black magic.

“Well—remember what Eric and I both told you,” he said, “do what ever feels right to you.”

She raised her gaze back up to Alex, still with a thoughtful expression plastered across his face.

The cafe was quiet, except for the grinding noise of the coffee maker on the other side of the counter.

“I should ask you,” she began.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged her as he flexed his fingers on his right hand a bit: he returned his hand to the top of the table afterwards.

“How're you handling the whole thing with me and Aurora?” she asked him, to which he hesitated for a moment.

“It—actually hasn't crossed my mind all too much,” he confessed. “I've actually forgotten why you ladies were fighting each other in the first place.”

“She made your nineteenth birthday all about her,” she recalled. “And then when I tried to address that with her, she was a complete ditz and made everything about herself again.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Again, it actually hasn't crossed my mind very often. I've just had my mind on other things.”

“Like making an album?” Sam showed him a smile.

“Like making an album, right! Two albums to be exact. The New Order and now Practice What You Preach.”

“Germany, too,” she added.

“Germany, too! And ginger snaps.” She leaned forward again, and once more had her hands folded over each other. The fire opal bracelet Chuck gave her clinked against the glass underneath her.

“I made out with you,” she said in a soft voice.

“You made out with me or did I make out with you?” he asked her.

“Both.”

Alex squinted his eyes at her. He shuffled his feet under the table, and he flexed his fingers again.

“You alright?” she asked him as she eyed his hand.

“I'm feeling it again,” he admitted to her.

“Feeling what?”

“It.”

Sam lowered her gaze to the cup of coffee before him and she nibbled on her bottom lip.

“French up that coffee and we'll talk,” she told him.

“French? You mean Irish.”

“Nah, I mean French.”

Alex held still with his hands on either side of the cup. He looked up at her with those deep eyes focused and steady upon her. For a split second, she swore that he lowered his gaze towards her chest. He flinched those long fingers a bit.

She thought about the things that Joey had told her over the phone that one time and she thought about doing them to Alex instead. Her lips around him. His fingers down below the equator and his tongue up inside of her.

He picked up the cup and took a sip, and not for a single second did he remove his gaze from her. He never seemed more hypnotic before: a little loose back there in the pool room and he suddenly became Mr. Seducer. She thought about Joey's venom, the way in which he seemed to slide and slither about like the deadly nightshade he so sprouted from: Alex came from somewhere else, as if from a fever dream. Where Joey resided within the earth, Alex seemed to burn into her with those deep eyes.

She sighed through her nose and bowed her head a bit to bring attention to her chest. Once more, for a split second, he dropped his gaze by a mere hair.

It was there between them. It was real, as real as the grays on his head. As real as those deep eyes that gazed back at her as if he lured her in, much like those oleander bushes in the south land.

He flexed his fingers again and all Sam could think about was the day before wherein they were about to add the final touches before submission. She sat there in between Alex and Louie as Chuck was talking about going on tour that summer, and wherever they went from that point onwards was anyone's guess. The vibe that surrounded them was so tense and yet she sat there so comfortably in between those two men.

Louie mentioned something else about the poison garden to her and Aurora just happened to be there right next to him, now six months along and her gaze fixated on the clipboard rested upon her lap.

“I'm really feeling it, Sam,” he told her with a smile on his face once Eric picked up the phone to call up Ruben. “Our producer told us this new record could really put us forth.”

“Will it have a gift shop?” Aurora absently asked.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains,” Alex muttered under his breath, which in turn brought a giggle out of Sam.

He said it again right there in the cafe, and that time with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains!” he exclaimed. “You and Louie have 'poison garden'—we should have wolfsbane keychains.”

“Wolfsbane, and not desert roses?” she asked him.

“You guys can have desert roses, too,” he pointed out.

“I say desert rose because I'm based out of the desert you know.”

“Of course! Desert roses for the desert rose right across from me.”

The door behind them swung open and Ruben stepped into the cafe with a blue and white tin tucked underneath his arm.

“Hi, Daddy!” she greeted him and she stood up and threw her arms around him.

“Hello, sweetie!” he returned the favor for her with his free arm. He then turned to Alex, who straightened himself up so he wasn't sitting so down low in the chair; but he handed Alex the tin. “Hey, son. Seeing as—you're such a hard working kid, these are for you.”

“What's this?” he asked him.

“What is it?” Sam echoed him as he took off the lid.

“Ginger snaps, baby,” he declared as he took a bite of that first little cookie.

“Ginger snap me up side the head,” she joked.

“Anyways, I've got the next hour off,” Ruben told them, “I'm in need of help for the two of you. Eric and Chuck both told me to bring in a couple of blank video tapes tomorrow because apparently the label wants you guys to film a music video in promotion of the new album.”

“Do you even have one?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah, it's somewhere packed away in that house—hence why I'm asking. Can't do it by myself. You know. You know how much that house still needs unpacking.”

“Absolutely!”

He then raised a finger to the both of them. “I'll be right back.”

He ducked away from them and headed back to the other side of the cafe, and right behind the counter there. Alex took another bite of ginger snap: the cookies in that tin were small medallions about the size of silver dollars so he could pop one into his mouth. Even though she liked him when he had a little bit of liquor in him, the sight of him eating those cookies brought a wave of comfort to her: she'd rather watch him get heavy from eating too many cookies than have his body go south from drinking.

If only Joey could get hooked on those as well.

“How are they?” she asked him.

“Excellent. The perfect amount of ginger, too. Sometimes they can be too much with it.”

She took one herself and he took a third one, and popped it into his mouth as if it was a potato chip. Indeed, he was right: it felt like a little kiss of ginger coupled with butter and some nutmeg.

“Speaking of ginger snaps, I guess Guns N' Roses are gonna be in town,” he told her once he swallowed down that bite. “Tomorrow night, I think.”

“Ah, cool! I wonder if Zelda got to see them again. She introduced me to them after all.”

“She probably did see them! They were back East just a few days ago. Prince actually got to open for them, believe it or not.”

“Wow! I wonder if she got to see him, too.”

“If she did, I envy her,” he admitted. “Prince is one hell of a guitar player. Hard to believe that album Purple Rain's actually five years old now.”

“I think it's funny that there's actually a guitar player called Prince—and you sort of came into my life like a dark heavy metal prince.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I wouldn't say it's funny,” he said, “it's definitely interesting to think about, though.” “A coincidence, would you think?” she asked him.

“There are no coincidences, Samantha—but everything has a purpose, though.”

“I just think of Belinda's first impression of you,” she recalled with a shake of her head.

“What was that?” He took another bite of ginger snap.

“She called you precocious.”

“I'll admit it,” he said upon swallowing. “I'd rather be seen as precocious than full of myself, even though I can be.”

“I can be, too,” she told him.

“I think it's better to be full of yourself with just the right amount of doubt thrown in all the while than be doubtful of everything and wear a mask of arrogance.”

Sam hesitated with her mouth slightly agape.

“I like you,” she told him.

“I like you, too,” he replied back to her with a raise of his cookie. “And I like the fact that you and now your father wanna give me cookies.”

“'Cause cookies are love,” she said.

“It's all spent doing fuck all,” he said with a straight face.

“Doing fuck all to fill your belly with love,” she pointed out.

“And my ass with ginger,” he retorted. It made no sense but she laughed at that anyway. Ruben returned to them and he rubbed his hands together.

“Come on, kids,” he beckoned them.

Alex put the lid back onto the tin and then with his free hand, he took the knit yarmulke out from his back pocket.

“Wow, I haven't seen that in forever and a day it seems,” she remarked as he stood to his feet.

“I haven't worn it in forever and a day,” he said, “mainly because we're going with your dad back to his place and not elsewhere.”

“Oh, I see!”

He tucked the tin underneath his arm and once Ruben held the door for the both of them, they crossed the street and back to the house. Ruben himself took to the linen closet and he encouraged them to take to the kitchen.

Sam knelt down before the small wooden table on the side of the room closest to the hallway. Nothing underneath there, but she did flash a glimpse over at Alex on the couch in the living room with the yarmulke on the arm right next to him. She missed her couch still, still there in the apartment in Hell's Kitchen. She pictured Genie curled up at the top, all by herself all the while.

Cliff sat there and drank Mexican hot chocolate with her.

She also pictured herself and Joey sleeping together on that couch: as soon as she thought that, she pictured herself and Alex together on that couch.

He stood up and turned around and she caught a view of the seat of his pants. He hitched them up and she couldn't help but let her eyes wander.

All those ginger snaps and incessant touring and working allowed his body to develop a lovely toned shape: slim and lanky, even slight, and yet he was nice and round in the rear end.

She had drawn Joey. She had drawn Frank. She had drawn Cliff. She had drawn herself.

She still needed to draw Alex: if only she could convince him of such, especially since there was no alcohol anywhere in the house. Even if there was alcohol anywhere in that house, there was no way it would fly by Ruben as he strode back into the front of the house. But she had to loosen him up somewhat, and there was only so much a ginger snap the size of a silver dollar could do for her.

Sam hurried over to Alex right as he turned around and he raised his dark eyebrows at her.

“What happened?” he asked her in a hushed voice given Ruben was right there next to them, and he delved through a small box he had tucked under the coffee table.

“Something has—come over me,” she confessed to him in a low voice.

“How so?”

She gestured for him to follow her. They got about five steps in when Ruben stopped them both.

“Where do you kids think you're going?”

“We're—going to look in my closet,” Sam told him.

“Of course, yes!”

She led him back into her bedroom and he left the door ajar behind them. She slid the doors open and she ducked inside first and pressed her back to the dividing wall behind her. Alex joined her with his back against a protective covering on a piece of dry cleaning.

She put her arms around his waist and she lingered closer to his face.

“Oh, I see what you're doing,” he said to her in a low voice.

“I want you loose again,” she confessed in a near whisper. She eyed those lips, smooth as ripe cherries and ready for her taking.

“I'm gonna fuck ya silly and then it's gonna be every man for himself from there on out,” he joked.

“Not if I'm the one who fucks you silly first,” she chided, “and it'll be every man and woman for themselves from there on out.”

“What's going on in there?” Ruben called from the next room.

“Nothing!” Alex and Sam called out in unison; she returned to him.

“Kiss me,” she begged him in a near whisper.

“Kiss you? Your dad's literally right there in the next room, Samantha!”

“Kiss me—the fact he's there will only make it sexier.”

“We are in your closet after all,” he pointed out.

“Just touch me already!” she insisted.

“What?” Ruben called out.

“It's okay, Dad!” Sam called out the closet door and then she returned to him.

“Okay, we really gotta do something or he's going to find out about us,” he told her in a hushed voice.

“And what if he does, Alex?” she demanded as she raised her chest up to him.

“Samantha, have you seen how he looks at me?” He dropped his gaze to her chest and he nibbled on his bottom lip. “He wants to skin me alive!”

“I don't think he does,” she assured him with a shake of her head. “I mean, he gave you ginger snaps for crying out loud, Alex. Now, when he and my mom were together and I brought Joey home with me, he definitely wanted to do things to him.”

“Why is that?” He frowned at that.

“Joey,” she started; even though she promised her mother to keep it under wraps, the cat was already out of the bag. “—I'm guessing reminds him of some guy my mom knew once.”

Alex snickered at that, but Sam smacked him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he hissed, and then he rubbed his shoulder.

“What do you mean, 'ow'? I barely hit you!”

“A slap is a slap, though,” he pointed out.

“A slap is a slap like on your ass?” she asked him.

“Shhh!”

“What's going on in here?” Ruben's voice floated into the room right then.

“Nothing,” they both said once more in unison. He stepped into her bedroom and they peeked out of the closet together.

“Nothing in here, Dad,” Sam told him. “Really, there's like nothing in here.”

“I really haven't found anything in here, either,” he confessed as he pressed his hands to his hips. “I'll have to break down and buy some new ones, I guess.”

“There's a shop not too far from here that sells all kinds of stuff like that,” Alex told him.

“Oh?”

“It's right up the street here, actually. You just ask the lady in there about it and she'll show you and it's real cheap-o, too. One time, when I was little, my dad needed to tape a lecture and all I remember is him talking about how it was like a treasure trove in there.”

“Well, thank you, son, I'll—I'll be right back.”

Ruben bowed out of there and Sam turned to Alex once again.

“You are such a good boy,” she declared.

“Just doing what I can,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. The front door closed and Sam ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Why do you want me loose again, by the way?” he asked her as he pressed his hands to his hips.

“I want to draw you,” she told him.

“You wanna draw me?”

“Yes. I wanna draw you—the best way I can make love to you without getting you drunk. Or maybe I can if you so wish.”

“Nah, I get drunk, I wouldn't be able to stay in the seat.”

Sam turned to her courier bag there on the desk chair and she took out that brand new journal she had bought in Santa Monica for a brand new chapter in life.

“There's a stool in his room right down the hall,” she advised him. “Grab that and I'll turn the light on for you, Mr. Skolnick.”

He showed her a little smirk before he left the room. While he was in the next room, she peeled off her shirt and changed into one of those Death Angel shirts that she had brought along with her. She knew that if she ever had to eventually decide on a place to live, and she chose San Francisco, she would have to see them again, and that time in their home city no less. She moved the floor lamp in that room closer to the closet door, right in front of her.

Alex returned with the little black stool in question.

“Hey, cool shirt,” he remarked.

“One of many!” she declared and she gestured to the floor lamp right in front of her. “Have a seat.”

He closed the closet door and took a seat there on the stool.

“Tell you what—you draw me, you've gotta do it with Greg,” he said.

“Why?” she laughed at that.

“'Cause Greg could use it, that's why. You do it with Greg, I'll give you whatever the hell you so damn well please.” He hesitated for a second. “Gosh, that was a mouthful.”

She giggled at him.

“You're so sexy, Alex,” she said, “I should really draw you just for the fact you're so sexy—a bet or not.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“You—wanna draw me? Should I strip naked or something like that?”

“Nah—you can leave your clothes on.” She stood up and walked on over to him. “Although—”

She reached forward to that third button and unfastened it for him with only two fingers. With her other hand, she did the same for the next one. Then the next one down. The next one down. Soon he stood there before her with his shirt open and a sliver of his bare body shown off to her.

“You only wanted to do that 'cause you wanted to undo my shirt for me,” he teased her, and he nudged his shirt back a little bit to show off a little more of his chest to her. She reached up and switched on the light for him.

“Oh, my,” she breathed out. “Oh, my, Mr. Skolnick.”

“Hey, now, Mr. Skolnick is my dad—I'm little Alex,” he insisted as he took his seat there on the stool. He leaned back a bit and showed off more of his body to her. The way the light shone down onto his pale smooth skin and onto the tops of his thighs.

“I thought you weren't little, though,” she recalled.

“To you, I'm not,” he teased her as he opened his legs a bit to get himself comfortable in front of her. He set his hands on either side of the stool's head and his eyes hooded a bit. His lips seemed extra plump and soft; his waist had slimmed down but also seemed a little bit thick at the same time.

Alex leaned back against the wall so more light cascaded over his body. The way the light bathed his body and made his already full face appear fuller, and his deep eyes even deeper. He tilted his head back and the light in turn made the skin on his neck, his chest, and his stomach appear so soft, smooth, and silken. Sam sat there across from him with her drawing pad rested upon her lap: every glimpse up to his body made her want to feel him some more. The scratch of the graphite made him seem much softer and sweeter.

To genuinely feel and touch him. Such a beautiful boy.

He cleared his throat.

“Remember on the road trip up to Carson and Tahoe we were talking about Georgia O'Keeffe?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she replied as she momentarily lifted her gaze back up to him.

“I think I spoke too soon.”

“Why is that?”

“You're absolutely filthy.”

“Filthy—ha! I don't think so.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that.

“Seriously? You're absolutely loose. Loose like a loose—pussy.”

“Alex!” she said in a hushed voice.

“It's true, though. Although I will admit that that was rather tasteless.”

“Tasteless like my pussy?” she retorted back to him.

“Nah, I reckon your pussy's about as tasteful as that drawing you're making, hence the O'Keeffe reference.”

He clapped his hands together and stood to his feet with his arms in the air as if he had declared a victory. Sam leaned back in her chair and she eyed the slight curve on his waist. It was the most gentle curve she had ever seen, but the light on his skin made it appear right before her eyes.

“You might wanna take it easy on the ginger snaps, big boy,” she teased him. “You're getting kind of a tummy.”

He lowered his arms and looked down at his waist. He touched the skin there with the mere tips of his fingers.

“Not again,” he grumbled.

“Ever so slight, though,” she told him. “Like I can see it a tiny little bit around your belly button but you can't really see it with your shirt closed, though. It's gonna grow, though.”

He sat back down, and then he reached to his right for another ginger snap, which he shoved right into his mouth. She stopped drawing so she could watch him eat it up and then he reached for a second one and did the same.

“Could use some milk,” he said with his mouth full.

“Milk has fat in it, you know,” she pointed out, and he swallowed.

“Hence the point!” he proclaimed and he rubbed his belly with both hands.

“You are such a tease,” she scolded him, and he gave his black hair a little toss back with a flick of his head.

“Let me ask you something—what happened to you in that pool room?”

“I dunno. You kind of—woke me up, Alex.”

He showed her a smirk and straightened himself upright. She had a light soft sketch right there before her upon her lap but she figured it was something good to work from that point onward. A little extra dark shading with his hair except for the small gray tuft over his brow.

“Are you getting okay?” he asked her.

“Getting it good, my dear Alexander,” she said as she used the side of her pencil to shade in the side of his neck and the lapels of his shirt. “My dear Mr. Skolnick.”

She lifted up the drawing pad and showed it to him.

“Soft, silky, and utterly gorgeous,” she declared; he pressed a hand to his chest as if he had just seen the best thing ever.

“Think you can take it from here?” he asked her.

“Absolutely!”

The front door closed right then.

“That was fast,” she stated.

“I said it was literally right up the street,” he recalled as he closed his shirt; she kept that drawing on the seat of her chair and she hoped that Ruben wouldn't have to see it for himself as they headed back to the front of the house. He had gotten four fresh blank video tapes, much to Alex's surprise and slight disappointment.

“We're gonna need more than that, Mr. Shelley,” he said with a shrug. “When we did the video for 'Over the Wall', we used like six tapes. Well, and they were messing around with the effects of it, too.”

“Well, son, this is what I've got,” Ruben told him. “It's what they had, too.”

“So what do you think we're doing this for?” asked Alex as he fixed his shirt a bit more: Sam noticed the buttons were one off all the way up.

“Let's give it a try for 'The Ballad',” Ruben replied with a smirk on his face.

Sam and Alex glanced at one another, and all she could think about was when he picked her up from the side of the road, which she hadn't even told him about yet.

The whole thing with Aurora felt a little redundant at that point.

[samanthadalton]

Bottled up part 3 (finale)

I feel like I’ve left this one for way too long but I finally finished it. 

pairings: Ava Lawrence x Emma Price

taglist: @cloud9in @alexroyard @midnitesteph @kamilahsayeet2063 @dopeyouth (again some people aren’t showing up im so sorry) 

word count: 2.3k (i hope you enjoy guys) 

Reality comes crashing down when I see Ava turning away from me running into the direction Bayla has run off too. 

“I have a girlfriend.”

That sentence rings in my head over and over again as I try to assimilate the last few minutes. Bayla was just here and she saw me and Ava almost kiss. Yep that most definitely happened. And now Ava is chasing after Bayla when it is painfully obvious she doesn’t want to be with her, she wants to be with.. me. I thought when I kissed Ava the first time, I would be thrown into oblivion and be lost in my thoughts and feelings. I mean I spent so much time trying to disentangle what my feelings for Ava would mean for me, but when I felt her lips against mine the answer is painstakingly obvious, it’s simply just love. I’m in love with Ava Lawrence.

Ava’s POV

Crap. Crap. Crap. 

This is the last thing I wanted to happen. Bayla wasn’t supposed to see me and Emma like that. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. My thoughts are running a million miles a minute and my quads are starting to slightly burn as I try to catch Bayla. Damn she’s pretty fast for someone who’s not athletic at all. I manage to catch her silhouette as she runs to the parking lot, so I take a deep breath and just keep running ignoring the burning sensation in my legs and the pang of guilt in my heart. 

“Bayla wait!” my hand clasps around her arm as I bring myself to stop running, which jerks Bayla back, crashing into me. She screams and clings onto my arms as she stabalises herself but as soon as we make eye contact she pulls away from me and I can clearly see the tear stains on her face and my heart  shatters into a million pieces. 

“Bayla please.” I feel the tears prick my eyes as my voice cracks while I try to plead with her. 

“What the hell do you want me to say Ava, you and Emma were about to-” she cuts herself off, running a distressed hand over her face. “God I’m such an idiot.” 

“No you’re not, I am I-” I realise that I have no idea what to say to Bayla, I wasn’t really about Bayla when my lips were centimeters away from Emma's. My mind scrambles for a response but I falter, clamming my lips shut. 

“I am. I should've known Emma would get in between us.” She spits out Emma’s name with disgust as her eyes angrily bore into mine. I remember Emma telling me about Bayla’s threat and anger begins infiltrating my body and the next thing I know I’m screaming at Bayla. 

“Is that why you told her to stay away from me? Because she’s not good for me?” I raise my hands putting my fingers in air quotes and Bayla looks at me stunned. 

“I-.” She takes a half step back before resolve suddenly seems to wash all over her face, her eyebrows furrowing together in conviction. “And I was right to, I mean she isn’t good for you. You even told me that yourself.” 

“She’s my best friend, you can’t dictate who I can and can’t be friends with.” 

“I was just looking out for you, like a good girlfriend does but I guess I was wrong.” 

“Bayla…” my voice trails off as I take in her tone that's laced with hurt and begin to break down, the tears I repressed earlier, begin to free fall as I fall under the heavy blanket of guilt. “Bayla I’m so sorry.” Bayla takes in my distressed demeanour and her gaze slightly softens but her body language indicates she’s still vigilant. 

“What happened between you two?” she hesitates for a second, before her eyes flicker to mine, filled with agony. 

“Last week, we-” I pause, wondering if I should tell the truth, but my mind drifts off to Emma and I take the plunge, “we kissed.” The silence stretches between the two of us as Bayla just stares at me, her expression barren. “I don’t know what happened, we were talking about the last couple of months and then Emma admitted she had feelings for me and then, I don’t know next thing I know we were kissing.” 

We bask in the awkward silence for a few more moments before Bayla curses softly under her breath, but this time when I meet her gaze all I see is acceptance, “I guess I shouldn’t have tried dating the girl who’s in love with her best friend,” though her tone drips with sarcasm I sense the hint of envy masked behind her voice, “i don’t really know what to say now to be honest.” 

“Neither do I,” my cheeks flush in embarrassment as I awkwardly tear my gaze away from Bayla looking down on the ground. 

“So I guess it’s over?” 

I nod, the words lodged in my throat but I’m unable to speak them out.

“For what it’s worth, I hope Emma is worth it,” and with that she walks off without a second glance. 

I exhale a deep breath, whether it was from relief or guilt I’m unsure but right now my heart hurts too much to even contemplate it. Even though Bayla wasn’t my first love I did care about her, she made me feel so comfortable about my sexuality and made me feel at ease when I was thinking about Emma. But I’m in love with Emma, I always have been, but I’m left even more confused because now I join Noah and Mason competing for her heart and I don’t know if that’s a battle I want to go through. Whatever would happen, it could wait until tomorrow, right now there’s a huge pint of ice cream calling my name at home. Before I step into my car, I browse at the school building wondering where Emma is since I haven’t seen her leave yet but just as I’m about to step into my car, I see Emma amble out of the entrance, her eyes wandering as she looks lost in thought. 

Her eyes saunter around until they land on mine and she tortuously looks away. My heart aches as I watch her debate with herself as her eyes flit over to me but then back to the pathway of the exit to the school. 

Emma’s POV

I thought I waited long enough for Ava to have left but I guess not. My heart practically skips a beat as I see her, standing next to her car door. She looks like she’s been crying and it takes all my strength not to run up to her right now and wrap her in a tight hug. I look out to the exit of the school and then back to Ava, she hasn’t moved from her spot since she’s noticed me. After a few more moments of deliberation, I push away all my ill-advised thoughts and begin walking towards her. Almost as if she’s expecting me, she moves to sit in the driver's seat of her car and patiently waits for me to get into the passenger seat before starting the engine. 

The silence hangs in the air, as Ava fixates her attention to the empty roads ahead of her, the car’s headlights illuminating the road ahead of us as the sky darkens even more, its before dimly lit sky subdues into a velvety night sky, as a few stars begin to peak through. Soon enough Ava pulls up to the driveway to my house, still, not a single word has been spoken the entire drive down. Just as I’m about to climb out of the car, Ava reaches out and touches my arm and I slightly jerk at the touch of her cold hand. 

“Emma I- '', her brows furrow together as she deliberates what to say next but after the recent breakthrough I made about loving Ava I know I can’t hold myself back anymore. 

“I’m in love with you,” I squeak out, the words jumbling together in an incoherent sentence. 

“Huh?” 

Crap she didn’t hear me. I take a slow deep breath before shifting in my seat to gaze at Ava, ready to bare it all “Ava, I love you.” She retracts her hand from my arm, I forgot it was even there in the first place, and looks at me, dumbfounded. 

“Emma don’t,” her voice is barely a whisper as she looks at me like I’m making a bad choice but determination sets in me, edging me to keep going. 

“After our kiss I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a while. I guess I’ve been so scared to admit it because if I do it means everything between us changes but I’ve realised that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” I look over at Ava, her brows creased even more than before, as she mulls over my words but she still remains silent and words keep sprouting from my mouth in an attempt to make this any less awkward than it already is. “I know I’ve been really confused the last couple of months but the truth is, no one has ever made me feel the way you do. Not Noah, not Mason, only you. Every time you smile at me I get these butterflies in my stomach and I do everything in my power to have you smile and look at me like that again. Or when you touch me, I feel like my body is on fire, and I never want you to let go. When we kissed, I felt so absolute. I know you’re with Bayla and I-” 

“No.” she softly speaks out. 

“No?” I repeat after her, in a confused tone, I can almost feel my heart splitting into two. 

“Bayla broke up with me.” 

“Oh.” Although part of me is screaming with happiness, another part of me feels bad knowing that it most likely ended because of me. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not.” 

“I am. Bayla was good to you, and she was there for you. That’s more than I can say.” 

“She knew.” 

“Knew what?” 

“That I was in love with you. And maybe part of her accepted that you would always be my first real love but maybe another part  knew that she could never be you.” This time Ava’s staring deeply into my eyes, her earlier awkward demeanour breaking away with each word she speaks replaced with resolve. “I love you too.” 

Without missing a beat, I move my head towards her, capturing her lips in mine. Her hands move up, her fingers tangle in my hair pulling me closer as I lose myself in the softness of her lips. I open my mouth more, gladly welcoming her tongue into it, as it begins moving with mine. We kiss like we need each other to survive, like we’re living off the feeling we’re giving each other and we kiss for a few more moments until she breaks the kiss, resting her forehead against mine. 

“Wow,” I breathe out, fully entranced by the beauty that is Ava Lawrence. Ava lets out an airy laugh before her eyes bore into mine. 

“What do we do now?” 

“Well I would love to kiss you again.” She gives me a playful smack on my arm in retort. “Ow, hey.” 

“I’m serious Emma, what do we do?” She nervously chews on her lip, her body language slightly skirmish as she awaits for my answer. 

“I meant what I said Ava, I love you. I think the reason why I was always so hesitant about Noah and Mason is because I was missing something from them both, but with you it feels complete.” 

Ava giggles in the cutest way and pulls me in for another kiss. 

3 months later

I watch the football from the stands, with Mack and dad, cheering for Mason and Noah as they work on the field as a tag team duo and obliterate the other team in the first half of the game. The buzzers go off and I start cheering even harder because I know it’s time for the cheerleaders. I see Ava leading the girls onto the field and I give her a wave which she responds with a wink. The routine starts and Mack and dad cover their ears as I scream for Ava. 

“Wooooooooo that’s my girlfriend,” as Ava does a series of flips. The routine ends but they begin playing a different song, a slower one and realisation washes over me as I recognise the song, this is Ava and I’s song. Toni comes over and takes my hand, yanking me towards the field, I protest, unsure about what is happening but Toni ignores all my pleas and continues pulling me towards the rest of the girls. The girls are suddenly holding a huge banner with prom written on it as my eyes flit around looking for Ava’s. A tap on my shoulder breaks my out of my reverie as I turn around to see Ava kneeling on the floor, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand while her other intertwines with mine.

“Will you go to prom with me?” 

My heart bursts full of joy as I take in the glowing smile on Ava’s face, I pull her up and move in to give her a kiss. Behind us the crowd starts cheering and whooping but my attention is focused on the beautiful girl in front of me. 

“You didn’t give me an answer.” 

“Yes you idiot,” I pull Ava in for another kiss, content that I’ll be going to prom with my girlfriend. 

[writefinch]

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears,  pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

[tirednerd2012]

Maybe one where Ian and Barley have been kidnapped and they want to hurt Barley, but Ian offers himself in Barley's place so they take him instead? And while they're hurting Ian, Barley breaks free and has to go save him? (I know you've written a lot already, though, so if you want to you can delete this post.)

WARNING: Abusive relationship mentioned.

First off, I will never delete any requests unless it involves something that truly makes me uncomfortable. I'm recovering from some hospital time and I'm bored, so I really don't mind. If anything this is helping me go to sleep. I enjoyed writing this one, though! This AU character I've been working on for a minute for a different series I was thinking about uploading. I was thinking about a quest, but this one came a little easier for me to write. I hope you like it, but if you would like it changed, let me know!

Dammit, Barley thought, as he woke up with a splitting headache. When he tried to get up, he realized he was tied up. That woke him right up and he heard a groaning beside him. Ian.

He looked over and saw his little brother's forehead bleeding slightly. He tried to break free from the ropes, but couldn't. What the hell was going on? What happened last?

"Ian, are you okay?" he asked, but only got another groan. "I'll get us out of here, don't worry."

"I wouldn't be sure about that," a familiar voice said and Barley's blood ran cold. Drew. They broke up about a month prior because Drew wasn't just jealous and controlling, he was dangerous. He would hit Barley when they were arguing, threatened him, did anything to make him feel like Drew had dominance. Barley started to wonder if his mom and brother were safe when his boyfriend was around, and he knew he had to shut that down. He still had nightmares of Drew's hands on his neck when they were fighting one day and Barley was too drunk to defend himself. He hadn't drank since.

Drew was taller than Barley, but not quite as burly as him. Though he didn't look it, he was strong. He could easily overpower Barley when they fought. His dark hair was rare for an elf, and it was one of the things Barley found attractive at the beginning of their relationship.

He should have known this would come back and bite him in the ass.

"Drew, what are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. His ex came down from the stairs. A basement, Barley realized. They were definitely in a basement.

"I told you, you can't just leave me. You don't get to decide that," Drew snapped. He picked up his knife from the table nearby and put it to Barley's throat. He tried to hide his terror, but he knew he was probably failing.

Him and Ian had been driving in the van. He remembered a crash, but that was it. Did this guy hit them?

"What do you want?"

"For you to suffer, Barley. I tried to give you another chance, but you've tied my hands. I don't know when you thought you had any say so in us, but you didn't. You are nothing. You don't get to chose who loves you," Drew sneered.

"Leave him alone, you jerk," Ian snapped. When did he wake up?

"Ian," Barley said. He never liked Drew, another reason Barley had to end the relationship. He trusted his brother more than anyone.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ian. Truthfully, I had no idea you were in that van, too, but hey, work with what you have, right?" Drew laughs. His attention turned back to Barley, looking at him with cold, blue eyes that sent a chill down the oldest Lightfoot's spine.

Barley told himself this is how he would die.

"Now, Barley, as I was saying, you need to learn a lesson," Drew said, but before he could cut Barley, Ian's voice cut through everything.

"Leave him alone!" Barley never heard such confidence from Ian before. Drew turned away from Barley and focused his attention to his little brother.

"Wow, Ian, never expected this from you. Tell me, what is your goal here? Why should I spare him after everything he did?" Drew asked.

"Because," Ian paused, as if desperately trying to think of anything to save his brother, "because you can do whatever you planned on doing to him to me instead."

"Ian, no! Stop!" Barley ordered, but it was too late.

Drew's eyes fixated on his brother, then back at him. He saw the panic in his eyes. Anyone who knew Barley knew he loved his brother and mother more than anything in the world. He would take any physical punishment over something happening to Ian. And he wasn't in a position where he could act as the protector.

"You know, Ian, for a bright kid, you sure are stupid. But, we can have some fun," Drew said, finally. He cut Ian free, but before he could do anything, he grabbed a fistful of his hair and looked at Barley. "Enjoy your brother's screams, love."

"I'm going to kill you," Barley snapped. His fear faded away and was replaced with anger. He looked at Drew like the most disgusting thing in the world. "Leave him out of this."

"Where's the fun in that?" Drew teased, and then proceeded to drag Ian up the stairs. His brother tried his hardest not to show any sign of pain or weakness, but Barley could feel it anyway. It seemed like the moment that door shut, wherever they were filled with Ian's screams.

"Ian! Ian!" he called over and over. He felt tears pouring down his face, but he didn't care. Ian was in danger. He had taken Barley's punishment. He was paying for a stupid mistake Barley made. He never should have gotten with Drew. It was a fling that turned into something poisonous and deadly.

He continued to struggle with the ropes. He was so angry he felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins and he slammed his body against the other side, trying to break free. He would kill Drew.

He heard Ian cry out again and tell Drew to get the hell off him. He heard Drew tell Ian that he should prepare himself because he was just getting started.

Why the hell did he have to take Barley's place? The older looked around the room once more and noticed that Drew left some tools on the table. He probably planned on torturing Barley right here, but saw the opportunity to take Ian from him and knew that would be the worst punishment.

He managed to pull the table forward with his foot and then had to struggle and get a pair of scissors in his hand. It took awhile and Ian cried out more. Drew yelled from upstairs that he was worried about Ian losing blood. He heard him tell Ian to scream all he wanted, no one was around to save him.

"You're going to die alone and then I'm going to let your brother see what I've done. I'll tell him everything right before I kill him slower than I've killed you. I want him to relish your death," Drew said once Ian went quiet. Barley's heart raced faster and he managed to cut the rope. He grabbed the scissors and ran up the stairs. The door was locked, but he busted it down no problem. He saw Drew and Ian in a living room. Ian was covered in blood. His flannel had been taken off and revealed cuts along his body. His jeans were torn and soaked with red.

But Ian was alive. He still managed to set up, but Drew yanked him up and held the knife to his throat. He glared at Barley.

"I told you that you didn't get to leave me," he warned.

"Just leave Ian out of this. Let him go. I'll stay if that's what you want. We can be together again, just leave him alone," Barley said. He would stay here forever if it meant saving Ian's life. All he needed to do was get to the van. He had nectar from a healing flower there. He and Ian grabbed it a few weeks ago during a quest and agreed to save it for an emergency.

"You really are useless, huh? You're a shit son and horrible boyfriend and the one person left in this world that loves you and even admires you, you've failed to protect," Drew said. "I could kill him right now, you know that right? I could slit his throat and that would be that. He would be gone. Could you live with that?"

"You know the answer."

"Exactly. Yet I've been up here, putting a scar on his body for each time you rejected me," Drew said, running the knife along Ian's throat. He was barely awake and couldn't even look at Barley. The older felt like he could be sick. He wanted nothing more than to pull Ian out of this nightmare.

"Drew, please. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," Barley said. He resisted the urge to bring the scissors out of his pocket.

"You'd be willing to stay here to save him?"

"Yes."

Drew dropped Ian. His abuser for months on end, who manipulated him into doing things he didn't want to, who beat him on multiple occasions, who made him feel like he was absolutely nothing, approached him. For a moment, Barley felt paralyzed. Drew walked over and kissed Barley.

He looked over at Ian and again, his fear turned to rage. Within a moment that Barley found to be a blur, he brought the scissors out and stabbed his ex in the chest. He watched his eyes widen with horror and he collapsed. Then he ran to Ian.

His brother was barely breathing.

"Ian? Ian?" he shook his shoulder. The youngest opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of his brother physically unharmed.

"Barley, are you okay?"

"Really? You're worried about me?" Barley asked through the tears. Ian had been around him too long. He lifted him in his arms and got him outside. Drew towed the van with his old truck. He knew damn well Drew thought this plan out. He wanted to be sure no one knew the boys were missing. He got him to the edge of the van and cried in relief when he found the nectar in the jar without a scratch.

He kneeled beside Ian and forced him to drink. Then he held on to him, whispering how much he loved him, how brave he was and that everything was okay. After a few minutes, the wounds healed, but left several scars that Barley imagined would either be there for awhile or the rest of Ian's life.

"Barley?" the younger asked. Barley cried and hugged him again. "I'm so sorry, I just- I wanted you to be okay."

"You scared me, why would you do that?"

"I love you. I get you want to protect me, but I don't want anything to happen to you either. Especially that guy, I mean, I just wanted him away from you. I didn't care if that meant I got hurt."

"Ian, in all seriousness," Barley said, "never take my place like that again."

"Barley."

"No. I can handle a lot, okay? I can take pain, I'll get through it one way or another. But what I can't handle is someone taking you from me; I can't handle losing you," Barley cut in, his voice betraying him and cracking at the last part. He placed his hands on his shoulders. Both of them still had tears in their eyes. "I-I thought I lost you. I was so scared."

"I know what Drew did to you, Barley. I couldn't let that happen again. If the roles were reversed, we both know you would have done the same."

He pulled his brother into a tight hug. He placed a hand in his hair and held him close.

"All that matters is you're safe. He can't hurt you again."

Barley made himself a promise that he would never let anything hurt Ian again.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Crimson Rose Series Teaser

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Language, Somnophilia Summary: You’re a pathologist doctor in Forks, Washington, a medical grad student who works well in a storage for blood packs. The town was nothing but kind to you and considered it your only home other than crowded city, New York. Without knowing who or what lurks in the small town of Forks.

Relationships: Vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader

Release Date: N/A

The night shift seemed to get close to its end. Your hands were started to twitch after typing for hours on your computer. Your hand rubs your eye, trying to maintain your wake as your co-worker sat a few feet sideways from you. Her hair was up in a ponytail, her glasses resting on the end of her nose. You surely knew she worked here longer than you did.

Someone drops a file above you on the counter, the doctor nods and pulls his mask off, “Evening, L/N. You look tired. Get any sleep last night?” He asked, his scrubs were a navy blue, you could see the color of his blue eyes. His beard was freshly cut the last time you saw him.

Everyone in the hospital knew he was in a car accident a few months back. He later returned and said he was completely fine. 

Everyone believed him. “You must have a strong stomach, knowing you handle over 100 blood transfusions a day. I wouldn’t call it on that-” You cut him off with a soft laugh. “I’ve been injured as a kid a lot and I’m used to seeing other people’s blood. Same color, no difference between others. We’re all the same.” 

You watched him carefully as he closed the file and slid it in the file on top. “I guess you could say we’re all the same,” He replied, grinning down at you. You gently smiled at him just like you did to everyone throughout the whole day.

“Dr. Strange,” Someone spoke, the man turns to the woman as she spoke to him closely to his ear. With a nod, he spoke, “Yes. I’ll be on my way. Thank you.” His dark eyes turn back to you with a smile. “Have a good rest of your night.” You gave him a nod, watching his figure leave the front desk.

You continued your typing on your screen, ending a couple emails in your inbox with a reply before closing in. “All right, I’ll see you on Thursday, Claire.” The brown-haired girl nods once at you. “See ya.”

You removed your scrubs and kept your hair up in a hair tie as you made your way out of the hospital to your car. There were a lot of cars still there, your SUV lighting up once you pushed the unlocked button. It was around 12 and it was pretty cold. Once you got in your car, it was warm. With a soft sigh, you turned on your car and slowly pulled out of the spot.

Your music gently played and you were passing by the small cabin restaurants, streetlights and bars. You were glad to be in a place like this. You glanced at your phone, hearing your mom’s ID pop up on your phone. Looking up back to the road you catch something on the side of the road and you yelp almost turning away from it and you come to a stop.

“What the hell?” You fidget with your rear view and saw what looked like a body. A large man laying on the ground, his one knee bent up with his arms out. You turned around to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. You weren’t.

“Oh my god-!” You jump out of the car and rushed over, “Sir. Can you hear me?” You kneel down and hovered your hands over him till one landed on his shoulder. His face wasn’t bruised or anything. Who knew if he was hit or slipped and hit his head. 

“Sir, can you hear me?” You see what looked like a silver necklace, an oval shaped carved emblem what looked ancient. Surely this man got this from the thrift stores. You reached for his hand to check his pulse till the hand grabs your wrist and you scream. The man’s eyes open and they grew dark. You let out a rough sigh while the man stared at you. 

He stops. 

“Sir, are you okay?” You asked, ignoring that the fact he has your wrist in his hand. His lips part to say something but immediately he stands up and you gawk in disbelief. “I’m fine,” He spits out, you gently touch his arm. “Please can I-Jesus you’re freezing. Can I take you back? At least let me check you-”

“I’m...” He hesitates for a moment and looks down, “Fine.” You sigh and looked around the road. The next town may be a few miles and you didn’t want him to walk there. But you didn’t want some random stranger in your own car, who just grabbed you like he was gonna kill you.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

The man turns and slightly furrows his brows. “Steve.” You take in the name and gently nodded, looking down the road once again both ways before bringing your attention back to the blonde guy. “Can I at least take you back into town?” He didn’t even seem to respond as he looked tensed. 

He walked over to the side of the passengers and you gently shrugged your shoulders. “All right.” You jumped into the drivers seat and he joined you in the front. You reached for the air condition, “I’ll turn on the heat for you.” Steve didn’t figure to say anything. 

He just watched you reach for the buttons in front of you. Glancing over to him, he drew his eyes away from you and looked out the window. You turned the car around and drove back into town.

You couldn’t barely breath on how quiet it was. You guessed he wasn’t a talker. Maybe he thinks you’re kidnapping him. Or man-napping him. Not many guys in Washington were attractive. This one seemed to take the cake. “I like the necklace,” You blurt out casually, Steve turns to you and went back to look forward. 

He lowers his head, “It was a gift from my grandfather. I never take it off,” He replied.

His eyes fixated onto you once again, seeing you reach for you hair tie. With a gentle tug, your hair falls from it’s hold and Steve reaches for his face, his fingers grazing over his mouth. He started to get more agitated. “I want you to pull over.”

“What?” You asked, Steve doesn’t look over to you as he points. “Just drop me here.”

You shook your head. “I’m taking you to the hospital I have someone there who can give you a check up-” Your words get cut off by the sharp glare he gave you and you were sure to be almost frightened. “Pull. Over.”

You couldn’t just let some guy who was out on the ground walk out like he was some tough guy. The looks were sure enough to tell he was a tough guy, but men don’t know when to check if they’re okay. You shook your head again, “It’ll be quick. Please. I almost ran you over,” You said.

Steve laughs almost in a sarcastic way, “Then would I really be okay if you did?”

“You weren’t okay when I saw you in the first place? I just saved your life from freezing out there and you’re treating me like I fucking don’t give a shit about people. Not everyday you see some random ass guy on the side of the damn road like he got hit. You’re lucky I saw you.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re both lucky to be alive right now,” He says. You turned to him for a split second to know what he meant. But for some asshole like him, you just ignored it and drove to the hospital. He was quiet throughout the whole drive but once you got to the parking lot, you parked in front of the doors and made sure Steve followed you. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, “You really think I’m not okay?”

Could you really tell? The man was walking like he wasn’t hit. Was he just drunk? No, he couldn’t be drunk if he seemed like a normal asshole in Washington. You just walked in with him following behind. 

You gotten Steve into a room. He sat on the bed that was next to other rows of beds with curtains that slide. You sat in the chair, waiting for the doctor. You hear someone click their tongue, “Ah. Miss L/N. I didn’t think you were the one to call in,” You hear Dr. Strange say, he held the clipboard in his hand as you softly chuckled.

“Actually, I found, um, him and he was on the side of the road...” You began to cut yourself off. Stephen turned to the boy and slightly glared at him. You stutter, “I-I guess he can tell you.”

Stephen nods, “Yeah... L/N, may I speak to the patient alone? Thank you for bringing him. You can go home now,” You saw that Strange never looked back at you throughout his whole saying. “Yes. I’ll see you Thursday.” You didn’t here any of them respond and you glimpsed at Steve one last time before leaving the room.

Stephen places the clipboard on the bed and crosses his arms. “I hope you know what I’m about to tell you, Rogers-”

“Going over this a million times, I’m not like you-”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is to keep you and the others safe,” Stephen says, Steve turns his gaze away and Strange stands up straight and sighs. “Go home, Rogers. I’ll give you 30 minutes to be there. And Natasha can give you away so don’t make me repeat myself.” Stephen turns away from him and leaves the room. Steve lifts his gaze up to Strange, “Keep your thoughts to yourself,” He says.

Strange turns to him and doesn’t reply, disappearing around the corner. Steve’s eyes go to the floor and his hands grip the edge of the bed. And his eyes grow dark to a crimson red.

Wow.

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