#and we all just said it so casually but here i am 23 years old years in my eyes over this

[jaeyunverse]

the 24-hour dating challenge (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, crack, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, influencer au (?)

EST. WORD COUNT | around 5k

WARNING(S) | profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad, mc is painfully dense + all warnings to be added in the full fic!

SUMMARY | being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

TAGLIST | @blank-velvet @soobisms @justalildumpling @xharisrealm @skzenhalove @alicesolengg @yenqa @geombyu @tika-writes-lol @jlheon @haknom @useraerin @hooniessslvrss @flwrshee @rikisly @tobiosbbyghorl @wonkivrse @heeflrs @bambithia @iea-tsand @chaechae-23 @en-dazed @jayfrvr @h-hazwie @moonlighthoon @justanotherkpopstanlol @sseastar-main @seongclb @shoyotime @gerianne @iadorethemskz @sieuneo @hoon0logy @luvistqrzzz @sucrosxi @lzux1 @t4kalcvr @nes-caf @odxrilove @trippy-dejun @arizejkt19 @xuimhao @vizstars @enhacatalog send an ask/comment if u wish!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | I AM COMING BACK!!!!!! (kinda. maybe. idk i get ahead of myself a lot LOL) finals are finallyyyy over and i have some time to write this week so i’ve started this old wip of mine! it’s going to be pretty short and sweet so i’ll hopefully be able to follow through on this teaser but no promises haha :)) i hope u look forward to this fic! inspired by h.j evelyn (♡)

click here for the full fic!

“Your followers want me to do what?” 

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!” 

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression. 

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?” 

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.” 

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?” 

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.  

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.” 

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived. 

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit truly went downhill. 

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.  

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras. 

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up. 

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you. 

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you. 

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults. 

The list was very long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.   

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to. 

And damn, they were right. 

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware. 

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self. 

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see. 

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails. 

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.  

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”  

[cliophilyra]

Intimacy Prompt 23:

Wearing Someone’s Clothes - Saltommy

For @thingbe Thank you for this prompt!! It doesn’t have a title yet but if I put it on AO3 I’ll have to think of one 😊

Saltommy - rated T (Not beta read so apologies for any typos)

>Sal: Fuck me this rain is biblical

>Tommy: Yeah it’s a disaster out there - where are you?

>On way home, gonna change then should be at yours by time you’re back. That’s the plan anyway - if I don’t drown.

>Don’t text and drive deluca

>Har har - does it count as driving if you haven’t moved in 30 mins?

>🙁

—————

>No one in this fucking town can drive

>Except you of course

>Naturally 😉

—————

> How are we still this bad at driving in the rain? It happens every fucking year now and it’s still a shock?

>Calm down old man you’ll give yourself an aneurysm

>Fuck you Kinard

>Maybe later

>I’m gonna hold you to that

>😘

——————

>Fuuuuuuuccccckkkkk

>Can I help you?

>The fucking truck just died

>???

>idk it just crapped out on the side of the road 🤷‍♂️ I can’t see anything obvious but it’s still pouring down sideways so it’s not easy to see.

>Can you get a tow? Where are you?

>Oh fuck it. I’m like 10 mins from yours. If I go straight there I can grab the truck tomorrow if the fucking rain calms down. I do NOT know what the wait is gonna be today.

>Tommy?

>K, there’s a key in the fake rock thing on the drive

>Yeah yeah I know. Game starts in 90. Also you gotta get a better hiding place for the key.

>🙄

—————

>Fuck this. I am never going to be dry again

>10 mins seems a lot longer in a fucking monsoon

>The next car that splashes me I swear to god I’m going to fucking murder someone

>Made it!

>Hooray. And you were so stoic about it too. Should be done in 30 🤞

>🍆💦

>😏

——————

>Ah shit there goes the bell, I’m going to be late. Sorry babe

>Oh this is a fucking nightmare

>En route to the 500th RTA of the day

>Fuck the rain. You were right I take it all back

>Finally!

———————

When Tommy finally gets home it’s two hours later than he expected. The rain had brought with it an seemingly endless stream of RTAs as Angelinos struggled to get to grips, sometimes literally, with the unfamiliar road conditions and flooding. He drops his bag inside the door with a heavy sigh and kicks off his wet boots.

He can’t deny Sal asking to come here when he was out kind of took him by surprise. They’ve been friends for years and...whatever they are now...for long enough, but this is the first time Sal has been here without him. It caught him off guard somehow, how he was so casual about it. Not that he would have said no. Just…

He can hear the TV from the other room and he walks in expecting to see Sal with his feet up, drinking his beer and eating chips with a cocky grin. Maybe there’d be a suggestive look and a hand on his belt, dragging him in.

What he’s not expecting to see is Sal asleep on his couch, stretched out on his front with his face cushioned against his arms, wearing Tommy’s clothes.

Tommy is aware on one level that he did tell Sal to grab dry clothes but he was in no way prepared for the warmth that blooms in his chest when he looks down at him. Of course there’s the way his sweat pants stretch across Sal’s ass, a little tighter on his broader waist, and the way his shoulders fill the old LAFD t-shirt, sleeves stretched tight around his biceps, hem riding up over his stomach to reveal a strip of tan skin that makes Tommy’s mouth water. But there’s also the damp towel draped over the arm of the couch, the half-empty beer bottle and bag of chips next to his spare key on the coffee table, the warm sandalwood smell of Tommy’s soap clinging to his skin and the way his face looks so soft, his breathing deep and even, muscles lax in sleep. How he looks like he belongs here. Like he’s at home.

Tommy reaches out a tentative hand and pushes his fingers through Sal’s short hair, smoothing the damp strands back softly. Sal makes a deep sound in his throat and pushes back against Tommy’s hand, stiring slowly.

“Hey Kinard,” Tommy grins softly. Sal opens his eyes groggily, blinking up at him.

“Huh?”

“Nice t-shirt.”

“Oh,” Sal laughs, twisting a little as if he could see Tommy’s name emblazened across his own shoulders. “Yeah.” He looks up again, brow furrowing slightly as Tommy scratches gently at his scalp making him groan.

“Sorry I’m late. Shift from hell,” Tommy says softly.

“S’ok baby,” Sal sits up and fixes him with a look, eyes darkening. There’s that smirk and that big hand reaching out for his belt, drawing him in.

Tommy goes willingly, as always, but this time, instead of unzipping his fly and taking him in his mouth, or pushing him down to his knees, Sal pulls him in by his waist until Tommy stumbles against the couch and drops into his lap, knees either side of his thighs, then curls his fingers around Tommy’s jaw and presses their lips together in a kiss that is unlike anything they have shared before. It’s soft and slow, insistent and deep and it makes Tommy’s skin tingle all over. He feels like he could shoot sparks out of his fingertips as he slides his hands over Sal’s shoulders and up his neck, warmth flooding through him as Sal cradles his head as if he is something precious, smoothing his thumbs across his cheekbones as he kisses him. Tommy kisses back, hoping he’s somehow communicating everything he felt when he saw Sal asleep on his couch. How much it felt like home, like something he wants to see every day.

Sal pulls back eventually, Tommy makes a noise that could be described as a whine, although he certainly wouldn’t call it that.

“Welcome home baby.”

“Where did that come from?” Tommy says, trying to sound less breathless than he feels.

Sal shrugs. “Felt like the thing to do. I kinda liked it...waiting for you to come home.”

“I kinda like it too,” Tommy smiles, kissing him again. “I like coming home to you.”

Sal bites his lip, sucking it between his teeth, making Tommy hiss and grind down against the hard-on he can feel pressing against his own cock.

“Also my clothes looks really fucking good on you,” Tommy murmurs against his lips.

Sal smirks. “Mmm I dunno, think they’d look better on the floor.”

*****

Afterwards, when they’re collapsed in a heap on the floor next to the couch Tommy reaches up and grabs the spare key from the coffee table and dangles it from his finger.

“I think I’ve thought of a better place to hide this,” he grins.

“Yeah?”

“How about you look after it?”

EDIT: It has a title now! Keys To Fit Our Locks on AO3

[fullstcp]

"Snow Angel" by Reneé Rapp Sentence Starters

TALK TOO MUCH

"It didn't feel like a dream."

"Don't think I could love you more."

"So what the hell does it all mean?"

"I'm taking everything I see as a sign."

"I know it's crazy but what if it's right?"

"I'm here again, talking myself out of my own happiness."

"I wonder if we should just sit here in silence."

"I think I talk too much."

"That's just the deal that I made."

"Having said all that, do you still wanna be with me?"

"I wanna be with you, like maybe even forever."

"Holy shit, okay, maybe not forever."

"I mean like I'm, I'm not saying not, forever."

"I actually have no idea what I'm saying."

"Are you mad at me?"

"But like, if, if you are then I'm gonna resent you."

"Do I actually hate you?"

"Like, do you still love me?"

I HATE BOSTON

"You got to be a big hometown hero."

"Why'd we have to cover so much ground?"

"As far as I'm concerned, they should just burn the whole city down."

"God forbid, you're not the center of attention."

"You must be exhausted."

"Don't you miss me?"

"Casual's the way you chose to leave."

"You're written all over every single street."

POISON POSION

"You get on my nerves."

"You're so fucking annoying, you could poison poison."

"You're the worst person on earth."

"Forgiving you is pointless."

"It didn't have to be like this."

"You almost got away with it."

"But unlucky for you, I am that bitch."

"I hate you and your guts."

GEMINI MOON

"Never know who you're gonna get."

"We're in love or we never met."

"Every day I'm different."

"I talk shit then I bite my tongue."

"I exist on a pendulum."

"You're so fucking perfect."

"How come I'm not feeling more?"

"Yesterday was heaven, now I'm bored."

"I bet you're sick of it."

"I should just be better to you."

SNOW ANGEL

"What's misery without company?"

"It's hard to laugh when it's hard to breathe."

"I'll make it through the winter if it kills me."

"Smiles hide what secrets keep."

"Can't tell a lie if you never speak."

"I tried so hard, I came so far."

"I met a boy/girl, he/she/they broke my heart."

"I blame him/her/them cause it's easier."

"But I still look for him/her/them in her/him/them."

"I loved back then what I hate today."

"I wish I went a different way."

"But if I went back, I would do the same."

SO WHAT NOW

"I found out from a friend of a friend that you're here again."

"What gives you the nerve to come back to the city that I live in?"

"So what now?"

"Should we talk?"

"Do you tell your friends that things ended well?"

"Both of us like to pretend."

"If I miss your call I'm gonna cry."

THE WEDDING SONG

"It was timeless like you and me."

"You are my one, you set my world on fire."

"I know there's Heaven, but we must be higher."

"I'm gonna love you 'til my heart retires."

"Forever we'll last."

"Why'd you have to mess it all up?"

"Why'd you have to burn it all down?"

PRETTY GIRLS

"You say that I'm your favorite."

"You think that I'd be flattered."

"It's pathetic cause you're right."

"This conversation's classic."

"I can predict this shit, line by line."

"I like a straight jacket, but it feels like it's a little tight."

"Yeah, your boyfriend's/girlfriend's cute."

"Oh, shit, yeah, he/she/they can come too."

"You'll be his/hers/theirs in the morning anyway."

TUMMY HURTS

"I can't believe I let you hit it."

"In hindsight, that might be the worst part."

"Oh, I taught you everything you know."

I WISH

"Some goodbyes are forever."

"So what's that mean for you and I?"

"I thought we'd always be together."

"I know too much now."

"I'm not ready for you to go."

"It hasn't even happened."

"I've been mourning since I was ten years old."

"Stay a little longer."

WILLOW

"Looks like you're still getting used to being fully grown."

"I know it's hard to slow down."

"There's still more to go."

"Maybe it's just how you're treated."

"Only so much you can explain over the phone."

"So I'm coming to you."

"Don't cry."

23

"It's my Jordan year."

"I thought this shit would look good on me."

"But I just feel weird."

"I still can't fly."

"Thought I'd be ahead, but I'm down by five."

"Everything looks good on paper."

"I still haven't learned how to calm down."

"It feels like everyone hates me."

"How old do you have to be to live so young and careless."

"My wish is that I cared less."

"So don't pretend now that we're cool."

"I hope I'll understand me more."

"But I'm afraid to care less."

MESSY

"You think I'm so laid back."

"And you love that I move fast."

"You don't notice one red flag."

"On the surface I'm too perfect."

"I know you just met me."

"Right now you've got nothing against me."

"I know how to make myself crazy."

"Loving me gets messy."

"Half of all my exes regret me."

I DO

"I leave a key in my mailbox just for you."

"It's the only time that I'm ever sleeping next to you."

"I thank my lucky stars, but, it's tearing me apart."

"You don't see us like I do."

"You don't see us from my view."

"When we're saying, 'I love you', I mean it different than you do."

"That's the closest to God that I will ever be."

"We don't need to talk, our eyes can speak."

"I only need one sign to match your energy."

"Everyone knows it's us against the world."

"I'll love you 'til there's no blood left in my heart."

SWIM

"I'm up in the middle of the night again."

"Same beginning, middle, but still no end."

"Back at the beginning with you."

"I'm gonna toss and turn."

"How could waterboarding feel so good at first?"

"Dreams of us, they turn into nightmares."

"If it's love then why do I feel scared?"

"I never stood a chance."

"The original ending of a true romance."

"Guess I'm destined for the role of Juliet."

"Rather be dead than confused."

"How can we get out of this with no bloodshed?"

TUMMY HURTS (remix feat Coco Jones)

"Sin is a cycle."

"Lied to my face, it's your hobby."

"Boy, you're fine as hell for a psycho."

[christian-is-a-dumb-boy]

Before I start, if you happen to find stumble onto this, this is for a class that I'm in. I choose Tumblr because I realized that it's actually a very good place to do this assignment and it would be very fun and interesting to make a Visual Essay here and with my themes too, which is very Tumblr and Pinterest like (which is where I got many of these photos from). If you are in my class, I'm sorry that I came up with this idea. My Visual Essay - Media Throughout the Years and How it Shaped who I Am. By Christian M.

2010 - 2012 was a unique time for fashion. There was still some 2000's elements in our fashion, and these photos show that. It's really iconic how everybody dressed like a wealthy suburban mother despite being a 16 year old named Amber from Albany, Georgia. Fashion in this era was about looking and dressing older, and we see this in our media too. Pretty Little Liars had girls who were supposed to be 15 but dressed like 23 year old interns from NYC, and Nene Leakes literally wore the second outfit in her "The Ghetto" meme from Real Housewives of Atlanta. I was five in 2010, so obviously I wasn't dressing like this, but I thought every teen just looked old because of how they dress despite having one green streak and braces.

This type of being older mentality also was in our music at the time, but in a different way. I love early 2010's music because everybody just was going down the electro pop pipeline, and all of the songs were good. One of my favorite songs back then was Selena Gomez's 'Love You Like a Love Song", which is really underrated. It's just peak early 2010s wannabe futuristic pop, because the song has some techno in it when Selena sings. I was a huge Selena fan already because of Wizards of Waverly Place, and this song changed my life (being dramatic but you get the idea). She isn't the only one that does this. Kesha was well known for doing this and again, Kesha made some bangers. The music was all about sounding like the future, while the casual fashion was about looking older. https://open.spotify.com/track/0laYHRpNTS6i8FXdupHkJ4?si=209bee3a44664ce9 https://open.spotify.com/track/3pYDZTJM2tVBUhIRifWVzI?si=cc6cacc99b024f27

Oh 2013, how you were just....bad for casual fashion. This is where I remember analyzing what people wore and noticing what was trendy and what we liked. It was bad. Teal tops that said 'Pink' literally held us at gunpoint to wear them. I was never really experimented with clothing as a kid because in my opinion, most of the boys clothing at the time was bad, which is why all of the photos are gonna be women's clothing because they either look good, or iconically bad. That was a pet peeve with me whenever we went shoe shopping. The girl shoes were colorful and had personality while the boy shoes were black and white, or an ugly neon green or orange in some random lines if you took gym too seriously at age 8. This is when I wished I was a teen in 2013 because 2013 tumblr hipster and grunge fashion was something that I wished to lived in.

2013 music was really good or bad. Despite coming out in 2009, Party in the U.S.A I feel like was huge in 2013 which made everybody (including me) to wear American flag shirts, pants, and bathing suits. One amazing song from 2013 was Demi Lovato's Heart Attack. Back in her prime, she made some hits, and one of them was this song (Shout out to Give Your Heart a Break too, another amazing hit). It was bad for me. I only had Episode (that story app) because Demi was in it. Demi and Heart Attack accidently created my first internet phase, and it's something that Demi Lovato that has nothing to do it but still needs to pay the price for.

You saw these images and probably went "Chris, how the hell did Demi Lovato made 9 year old you into a anime fan and why?" in your head, and I'll tell you how and why! So like I said, obsessed with Heart Attack when I was a kid, and while I was on YouTube searching for the song, I found this video of Heart Attack, but in the title, it had the words 'nightcore video' in it, and it had Taiga (short girl in the first photo) in her angel outfit from ToraDora (which I never watched until recently and I recommend it along with the other three). If you don't know what nightcore is, it's just song sped up to make the singer sound anime like (which they didn't but regardless I still ate that shit up). These are top tier shows, honestly. I honestly think mostly everybody in my class would like Yuri on Ice (because it's an creative english class). https://open.spotify.com/track/5w24qGKT4DHCKHKU0jPlcK?si=df10a0191d3441ee

Every queer kid had a musical phase. That's just how it is. I don't make the rules for it. I was also that queer kid. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. DeBell, told my class in 2015 that there was a musical about Alexander Hamilton, and played You'll Be Back. I was hooked. Listened to the soundtrack regularly and found other musicals like Be More Chill, Dear Evan Hansen, Every Starkids musical. I'm a terrible singer, but I'm still gonna try belting First Burn. This was also the year I had my Percy Jackson phase, another queer kid staple. I found Percy so charming and Nico so cute in the books and it's so embarrassing, yet so funny. The Percy Jackson Musical was the first musical I ever saw too because we went on a school field trip for it. https://open.spotify.com/track/1A2gifkaEngunqZAFHUS0j?si=c753e346c04141e7

You just saw these images and are either cringing at me, cringing at younger you, or both. 2016 was where my "edgy" phase started. I wasn't edgy in the way every other guy in 2016 was edgy, if anything, cringe culture would've bullied me, but I just liked those angry "emo" songs and disturbing anime's. This is also when I discovered punk, alt, emo and goth fashion, which is all different thing and I don't care what people say, those types of fashions have always look good. People who dressed like that, especially now because cringe culture has been making a comeback, are being harassed but they are really the sweetest and down to earth people ever. People who dressed alt, or punk, or goth were always nice to me and I will always defend them. I personally don't dress like that because I was called emo for wearing a black jacket and black pants in the winter in New York, so obviously people don't like that type of fashion where I'm from, and also if you know me in real life, you know I'm a 5'6 year old guy who has the face of a twink (Tyler Oakley let's be honest), so I don't think I could pull it off. But if you look at my profile picture, it's what I would dress like if I could pull it off, and I probably would kill a fragile, sickly Victorian child before the black plaque reaches them if they saw this version of me.

These were all from different time periods except for the top picture. For 2015 - 2018 fashion that was considered "emo" or punk or goth, it wasn't but that's what i grew up on. These had a gripe on us back in 2015. I remember seeing so many people on youtube wearing that striped school girl skirt and people in pinterest showing off their cat stocking. other alt or "alt" fashion were band shirts, specifically PATD and TOP, flannels, short hair but very long hair in the front, stockings in general.

A few years later, in 2019, I got into K-pop. I wish I had a unique story but I don't. My exe who's also a close friend of mine now was just playing a K-pop song because he also likes it and it was TWIT by Hwasa and it was catchy to me, so I looked it up, found out that she was in a group, Mamamoo, and that was it. I listened to a few songs before like obviously Gangnam Style and Gentleman by PSY when they blew up and also Like This by Wonder Girls (who are legends) when I was a kid. My top three groups in their debut order are Girl's Generation (2007), Rania (2011) and TWICE (2015). If you ever wanna give the genre a try, Girl's Generation and TWICE are the two groups to listen to, as someone who of course loves and also used those two groups to get other people into K-pop both accidentally or on purpose.

I think it's really funny how 12 year old me was listening to "sad" music and music that is just "so deep and so meaningful" and then 14 - 16 year old me listened to just the most upbeat and happy, catchy music (Rania's is the only one that isn't cheerful, their music is very camp if you know what that means). https://open.spotify.com/track/6qyz1KOlGJsKYJ4ZsRmRSD?si=7cd52297243b4301 https://open.spotify.com/track/2BQIMF7CyLe2xAKzh74A4C?si=ff220ef47b3143f2 https://open.spotify.com/track/1utDFK1ARQcuZSwapf3cfb?si=97492c9682a74e12

I am really excited to see what college me is gonna get into. I still like most of these things, and it'll be interesting to see what similar new stuff are gonna come out in the next few years.

[mamamittens]

Order Up!

Date Night is here!

From 2-1-23 to 2-14-23 my ask box is functioning as a date generator! (If I get overwhelmed I'll temporarily close my ask box while I catch up)

All you have to do is bring yourself (whatever you may be AFAB, AMAB, F!, M! or any combination therein as long as I can reasonably guess what kind of clothes you wear and pronouns you use) and at least one character of your choice. (And what fandom they’re of, naturally, just to make sure the right person shows up!)

For details about yourself, feel free to add small physical descriptors and personality if you’d like a little mention of them. Eye, hair, skin color, hair type, height, and body type are fine! It doesn’t have to be a massive block of text (for the sake of your hands while typing, I wouldn’t recommend it either). And for personality, you can include anything that you feel would be relevant to the situation. If you tend to crack jokes when you’re nervous or have a hard time keeping eye contact, throw that bad boy in there!

Who can you date? Any character that is canonically 18 or older and fictional! And please, no lolis or shotacons, I don't care if they're technically 5,000 years old if they're still built like a grade schooler.

If I’ve written for you, specifically for your OC before now, you may ‘bring’ them to the date instead of yourself. This is just because I’m already familiar with them and there won’t be any misunderstandings about said character that you’ve created. If I’ve written for you before and it was a reader insert you can simply call back to that as long as you’re not anonymous.

Then you must simply grab one of each ‘treat’ and enjoy your date! Alcoholic drinks and shots are explicitly NSFW and so their responses will be marked as such (so if you’re underage and asking anyway you likely won’t get to see the response).

I will fulfill the asks as I am able, so please do be patient! I figured I’d try something a bit new and zesty this time!

Chocolate – Where?

Toffee – at home

Caramel – Fancy restaurant

Cream – holiday/work-ish function

Nuts – Casual dinner

Cherry cordial – Movie date

Hard Candy – Relationship?

Lollipop – Total strangers

Candy Cane – Brief fling

Lemon Drops – Casual Friends

Konpeito (Japanese star candy) – Childhood friends

Mints – Blind date

Pop Rocks - Arranged marriage (Watermelon for engaged and Strawberry for Married)

Soft Candy – Reception?

Gummy worms – Nervous nerds

Gummy bears – Confident and loving the energy

Candy corn – Enemies to lovers speed run

Fruit Roll – Love at first sight

Cotton Candy – Sweet from the start

Drink – How does it go?

Soda – The start of a very interesting relationship!

Water – Eesh! Maybe we got off on the wrong foot? (With Lemon for sour end and with Strawberries for sweet end)

Alcohol* - In the bedroom!

NSFW +18 ONLY

*Alcoholic shots – Kinks! Phrase it as “Shot of X for (character A)” for them to receive it specifically. There isn't a limit for shots but keep it reasonable lol, I'm probably not going to write 10K on one date ask because you asked for everything and the kitchen sink.

White Russian – Creampie/Cum play

Hot Damn – Praise kink

Mind Eraser – Degradation

Afterburner – Choking/breathplay

Jell-o shot – Edging

Pineapple Upside Down Cake – Oral

Alice in Wonderland – Size Kink

Motor Oil – Marking

Kamikaze – Temperature play (Served hot or cold for temp preferences)

Jager Bomb – Rough Sex (Extra strong is hate sex)

Green Tea shot – Soft Sex

Pink Schnapps – Dom/Sub (The person receiving this shot will be designated the ‘Sub’)

Black Jack – Restraints

Brain Hemorrhage - Overstimulation

Warning! Some shots may interact in unexpected ways! Keep this in mind when ordering! Especially if you have squicks that may arise in the mixed combination!

Woah! An Extra special treat category! (Entirely Optional!)

Mochi Ice Cream – Yandere

Vanilla – Obsessive

Red bean – Possessive

Grean tea – Delusional

Strawberry – Protective

Coffee – Manipulative

So, in theory, what would an order look like? (Using one of each category)

“Hi! I’d like a chocolate cream, candy corn, and a soda with a shot of Mind Eraser, extra strong Jager Bomb, and Afterburner for myself with Aizawa from MHA. I’m M!AFAB with brown hair and eyes, pale skin, with a tongue piercing and a preference towards masculine clothing! I like to go by "Sky". I also have a tendency to not know when to shut up and like teasing people in a fight. If it’s alright, I’d also like him to have a red bean mochi.”

It doesn’t have to be exactly like this, or even in this order specifically, so long as it’s clear what you want included. If you have a squick that’s reasonably associated with one of the items you ordered, feel free to ask me to ‘hold’ that aspect. For example, with a chocolate cream (work function date), if you feel really uncomfortable with boss/subordinate dynamics, you can let me know! For an NSFW example, you could ask me to ‘hold the White Russian’ for it to basically be safe sex.

Remember, once it's in my ask box, the ball is in my court! So be polite, patient, and bear in mind that I'm ONLY working with what is in the singular ask! I'm unaware of a character limit for asks, but try to keep it in one so I can easily sort through them if need be or make it VERY clear that it's yours across multiple asks if you're asking anonymously!

Hope you all enjoy the event!

[madseance]

I was tagged by @destinyandcoins to list my current top 5 songs. There was no requirement that I go into excruciating detail about my feelings regarding these songs, but also, notably (perhaps for next time!) no specific prohibition against me doing so. Therefore...

"This Woman's Work" by Kate Bush. I am obsessed with, and yet also slightly hate, this song; I think the first line and hook/chorus are great, but I'm iffy on the rest of it. It feels unfinished. It's also very hard to just casually sing to yourself, which tbh is one of my top criteria for songs. Once in a delirium I got the idea to combine it with the good parts of another song I love-hate, "Glycerine" by the band Bush, but so far I haven't quite been able to make it work. Fun fact + opinion: despite it being written for a movie in which Kevin Bacon's wife nearly dies in childbirth, the actual best ever use of "This Woman's Work" was in the series 2 premiere of The Handmaid's Tale, during the execution scene.

"Spooky Scary Skeletons (Undead Tombstone Remix)" by Andrew Gold. Look. I didn't really get to enjoy Halloween this year because I was suffering from a dissertation. I'm not ready to let go of spooky season just yet. And as I've said before, by all rights spooky season should last through Christmas at least—the Victorians (my best bitches) told ghost stories at Christmas! A Christmas Carol is a ghost story! I'm probably going to reread The Woman in Black for Christmas this year. Anyway. This is obviously a goofy-spooky song (and best enjoyed in the form of Tom BetGeorge's Halloween light show), but it also brings me a lot of joy. For properly spooky music, we turn now to:

"Bottom of the River" by Delta Rae. A bitch loves some Southern Gothic! Delta Rae is a very Fleetwood Mac-esque group in that their songs cover a range of styles depending on which band member is featured, and I am partial to Brittany Hölljes's "witch" songs (whose music videos tell an ongoing story). They're apparently working on a musical(!), so look out for that if you enjoy this piece.

"Silver Springs" by Fleetwood Mac. A bitch ALSO loves mess, and it doesn't get messier than Rumours, perhaps best summed up by John Mulaney as "an album written by and for people cheating on each other." (One of many observations of his that aged poorly!) This live performance from The Dance may be the best version of Stevie Nicks' wistful-scornful breakup anthem, in which it is clear Lindsey Buckingham truly will "never break away from the sound of the woman that loved you". I distinctly remember first hearing Stevie do this on VH-1's Storytellers, which she verifiably didn't, but I chalk that up to her being a witch. My memory is fine! Get off of my lawn.

Superliminal soundtrack by Matt Christensen. Yeah, I'm putting a whole album on here; arrest me. I have not personally played Superliminal because I have a decade-old MacBook that would burst into flames if I even thought about it, but I watched a playthrough of it while doing my master's degree and got really emotional about the ending. (Yes, it is a puzzle game.) The soundtrack is my go-to for background work music now, and if you also enjoy it, you can buy it directly here. I also strongly recommend playing the game if you can (or else watching a no-commentary playthrough), though if you're really pressed for time, you can also watch the devs react to a 23-minute speedrun.

I don't know who to tag in these, but if you wanna do it, just do it; the police can't stop you.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 23: Home

[prev]

[masterlist]

——————————————————————————

After 5 long years, your family finally moves to a new house. It’s bigger than the house Kiyoomi first lived in. Since you have kids now, so more rooms must be added. You don’t even know how your husband managed to find such a big house that is close to the city.

Kia is beyond excited to have her own room after 3 long years of sharing it with her younger siblings “Wow! My room is so big!” Kia says in awe, her eyes wandering her new room. She climbs up the bed and jumps on it, letting out a series of laughter every time the sole of feet recognize the springy feeling. “I love my bed! It’s big and it’s all mine!”

“Kia, be careful or you’ll fall,” Kiyoomi warns her. Done checking with Kia, he follows Mina and your family dog, Momo, inside her new room. “Do you like it?”

“Where’s Momo’s bed?” Mina asks as she looks around the room for the said thing. The Shiba Inu follows behind her like a loyal servant.

“I thought you wanted Momo to sleep beside you?” Kia’s eyes turn wide in joy as she runs to her father. She raises her arms so Kiyoomi bends down and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Momo, give papa a kiss too!” Mina cheers and the dog jumps on Kiyoomi. He catches him with his hands and stretches his arms away from his body.

“We’re not close enough to be kissing,” Kiyoomi tells Momo and puts him down. Momo resembles his cousin, Komori, so Kiyoomi feels awkward showing affection towards him.

Kiyoomi leaves Mina to discover her room, which is very kid-friendly since that’s what he specifically asked the interior designer of the house when it was being built. He then heads to where you and the twins are. From your posture and way of speaking, it seems like you’re having an argument with your youngest children.

“What’s wrong?” Kiyoomi asks you, casually putting a hand on your hip and pulling you close to him. He eyes Kin and sees the scowl on his son’s face. Kiyoomi sticks his tongue out, childishly mocking him.

“Stop that. He’s your son,” you scold your husband and he stops making fun of Kin. “Kin and Mira wants to sleep in their rooms.”

“Then, let them? Does it really matter?” Kiyoomi answers and the twins nod, agreeing to his words.

“We’re big now!” They tell you in unison.

“You’re three and you don’t want to sleep with mama anymore?” You sigh in disappointment.

“Are you scared on your own mama?” Kin frowns and you nod dramatically. Kiyoomi gags at your acting and you nudge his side with your elbow. “Do you want Kin to stay with you?”

“She has me,” Kiyoomi butts in and Kin gives him an unamused gaze.

“You’re not even home most of the time...” Kin rebuts with confidence. Kiyoomi grimaces at his son’s words and you just laugh. “Right, Mira?”

“Right!” Mira just agrees to whatever her twin brother says.

“Listen to the kids, Omi,” you whisper to him and he rolls his eyes. “Please set up the table in the garden. It’s almost dinner time.” You kiss your husband’s cheek and then you hear Kin chant that he wants kisses too. You fulfill your son’s wishes before skipping happily to your new kitchen.

The three of them set up the table just like you requested, while the two older girls help you in the kitchen. “I’m cooking the meat now,” Kiyoomi tells you as he takes out the meat from the freezer. You hum and continue cooking the other dishes.

“Go help your papa set up the table,” you order Kia and Mina. They wipe their hands clean before going out to help their father.

Kin and Mira keep running back and forth from the kitchen to the garden as they carry one plate at a time. Kia and Mina are arranging the table cloth and wiping the benches clean. Momo is helping by making sure that no bugs or birds are landing on the plates and being cute of course.

“Do you want meat?” Kiyoomi asks his kids. They don’t answer him as they are too preoccupied with other things.

Kia hears him and answers, “I’m not in the mood to eat meat papa.”

“Momo, do you want meat?” The dog barks at his question and points his forefingers at him. “You’re my favorite child for a reason.”

“Why is Momo your favorite child? You said you’re not even close enough to kiss!” Mina pouts and glares at her father.

“Mama said favoritism is bad!” Kia reprimands her father, her hands on her hips. “We are your children! You should love us equally!”

“Right! Love us equally!” Mira echoes her sister’s words, putting her hands on her hips as well.

“I thought I was your favorite!” Kin complains and Kiyoomi’s eyes dart at him.

“You don’t even like me!” Kiyoomi complains back and Kin raises his forefinger up as if he’s going to make such a great point.

“But mama said you specifically asked for me, which means I am your favorite,” Kin explains and just when Kiyoomi is about to make a retorting statement, Mira shouts.

“Papa! The meat is burning!”

“Shit!” Kiyoomi curses as he tries to weaken the fire. The garden falls dead silent as his kids stare at him in disbelief and shock. Their father could curse? “What?”

“You said a bad word!” Kia gasps dramatically.

“Said a bad word!” Mira mimics Kia’s dramatic gasp.

“No I didn’t!” Kiyoomi tries to argue, attempting to sound believable.

“Papa, stop lying. Even Momo heard it...” Mina says in disappointment. The barks as if he’s agreeing to Mina.

“Remember when I said I’ll buy you a trampoline when we move houses?” Kiyoomi tries to change the topic so he can escape his children’s interrogation.

“Shit!” Kin says loudly, and as if on cue, you go out to the garden and hear your three year old son cuss with all of his heart.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi! How many times do I have to warn you about not cussing in front of the kids?!” Kiyoomi face palms and glares at Kin. The younger boy just shrugs and runs to help you with the dishes you are carrying.

Before dinner starts, you want to take a picture of your family for keepsake. Sadly, that isn’t easy to do with four kids.

Mira and Kin are fighting over who gets to sit on your lap, leading to the twins crying. Kia is restless and hungry and just wants the picture to be taken but her siblings are acting up, which leads to her acting up as well. Mina is shy and hiding behind Momo. Kiyoomi is trying his best to make the twins to settle down so he attempts to take Kin away from you, but the boy just grabs his hair and tugs on it quite harshly.

In the photos taken, you have no good ones as expected. Kia is frowning at all the pictures. In one picture she’s rolling her eyes in irritation. Mina’s face can’t be seen since she’s hiding behind your family dog. Kin is still grabbing Kiyoomi’s hair and scratching his face, holding whatever is close to him. Mira is wailing on your lap and is screaming ‘papa’ since she wants to be with Kiyoomi now. Meanwhile, you and Kiyoomi look so tired and haggard in the photos. The only one who looks good in the photos is Momo. The dog is just sitting and smiling with his tongue out. So much for just one family picture.

Dinner finally starts after that chaotic pictorial and you say your thanks before eating. Kiyoomi cuts the burnt steak he cooked into smaller pieces and attempts to give it to Kin. His son rejects it so Kiyoomi sighs and takes the meat out of his bowl.

“I’ll eat it!” Kia volunteers and lifts her bowl so Kiyoomi can put the meat in it.

“I thought you were not in the mood for meat?” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at her but gives her the beef anyways.

“I changed my mind,” Kia reasons.

No, she didn’t. Kia hasn’t changed her mind. She really doesn’t want to eat the steak but when she saw Kiyoomi’s sad expression because of Kin’s rejection, she felt bad for him. She can’t scold Kin about rejecting food yet since he’s young, but she has to show him that the food their parents are providing them is special

“It’s good papa,” Kia compliments her father. Kiyoomi smiles at her and he continues to cook meat. She eats what he gives her without complains. Seeing his sister eat with gusto, Kin asks for meat and eats it.

“Me too!” Mira gives her bowl to Kiyoomi which he gladly puts the sliced beef in. She happily eats it and even feeds her twin brother with it.

Kia watches her father’s face light up in satisfaction which makes her feel blissful.

——————————————————————————

It’s 12AM and Kiyoomi feels a small hand tugging on his finger. He wakes up from the touch, and sees his son with an almost crying face. “Hi, buddy. Why are you up?”

“Want to sleep with you,” Kin answers, pulling his little blanket close to his chest. Kiyoomi’s heart softens. Kin may act like he hates his father, but deep down he wants his attention and affection too.

Seeing his son’s scared image, he jumps out of bed and picks him up. If Kin is scared, so must be Mira.“Okay. Let’s go get your sister first.” He walks to Mira’s room as quiet as possible so he doesn’t wake you or any of his daughters up.

Kiyoomi sees Mira’s door open so he quickly checks the room and doesn’t see her there. He hears murmurs from Kia’s room and also notices how Mina’s room is empty.

“Don’t be scared. Nee-chan is here!” Kiyoomi overhears Kia speak. He peeks at the small opening at the doorway and sights Kia putting Mina and Mira to bed. “Do you want me to tell you a story?”

“Yes...” Mira answers, shifting closer to Mina so they can cuddle. Momo is sleeping at the end of the bed, unbothered.

“We are going to have a new baby sister!” Kia confidently announces.

‘That’s not a story! That’s a gossip!’ Kiyoomi chuckles and then enters the room, which surprises his three daughters. “What are the three of you talking about that is keeping you awake at this?”

“Papa! Tell us a story!” Kia tries to hide their recent conversation, but her expression is giving it away. She looks like a deer that has been seen in the middle of the road. “Mina and Mira were scared so they went in my room to sleep.”

‘They’re still sleeping together in one room after all.’

“Okay. I’ll tell you a story. What kind of story do you want?” Kiyoomi gives in and sits on Kia’s bed. He puts Kin down on the bed and he snuggles close to his twin sister immediately.

“About you and mama!” Kia giggles as she joins in her other siblings.

“Again?” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at her. Kia loves hearing stories about the two of you. It puts her at ease.

Kiyoomi starts to share a random story about you and him during high school. Your first time meeting his family exactly. And midway, he hears his children snoring soundly so he stops speaking. He then notices Kia looking out her window.

“Go to sleep...” He tells her.

“Papa, I am so happy you’re my father,” Kia says out of nowhere, taking Kiyoomi aback. “I don’t think I would be this happy if you weren’t.”

“I’m happy you’re my daughter, too.” Kiyoomi kisses the top of her head and then smiles at her.

Kiyoomi is thankful.

Kiyoomi is very thankful that she is his daughter. If he didn’t meet Kia 5 years ago, he wouldn’t know where or who he’d be now. Having children changed him and probably made him a better person. He still can’t go on a crowd on his own, but if he’s with his kids, everything possible for him. Kiyoomi is willing to go out of his comfort zone if it means his children’s happiness.

Kiyoomi thankful that you gave him a chance to prove that he can be Kia’s father. Not just Kia, but also Mina, Mira and Kin. He knows how stressed you are with having to take care of 4 kids and him not being around most of the time, but you still stayed. You never gave up on motherhood, your children and him. He falls in love with you again and again every single day just for it. You are the best thing that has happened to him.

Kiyoomi is thankful that he has a house where you and your children are in. He doesn’t go home everyday but he knows that when he does, you’re there to welcome him. Kia is there caring for her younger siblings with you. Mina is there drawing on the living room, while her dog, Momo, sleeps on the couch. Mira is there running after her twin brother and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Kin is there watching everything you do because he loves you so much. You’re there raising your children with sincerity and love. You and your child are there waiting for him.

Kiyoomi is thankful that he gets to go home to where the five of you are.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is thankful that you’re his home.

“I’m also excited for my new baby sister,” Kia mentions again. Kiyoomi for sure knows you aren’t pregnant because if you are, you would be complaining about it again. Or are you hiding it from him?

“Did your mama tell you that?” He asks for assurance that this is only part of Kia’s imagination and random child babbles.

“No, but I’m sure that mama has our baby sister in her stomach.” Kia closes her eyes and hugs Mina who is beside her.

“Okay...” Kiyoomi lets it pass and slowly drifts back to sleep, too tired to go back to your room.

Morning comes and you wake up to an empty space beside you. “Kiyoomi must have gone jogging...” You yawn and stretch your arms up. It’s already 6AM but you don’t hear any of your children chant the word, “mama” so you stand up and check on them. The silence is too rare that it’s scaring you.

Mira’s, Kin’s and Mina’s rooms are empty so you get anxious. You’re telling yourself that maybe Kiyoomi brought them jogging with him so you’ll feel better, but your anxiety grows since you know that Kiyoomi will never bring the four of them with him. Momo goes out of Kia’s room so you run to it, in hopes that your children are all there.

They are, and your husband is also there.

Kia and Mina are tucked in Kiyoomi’s armpits. Their hands holding onto their father’s shirt. Mira’s face is flat laid flat on Kiyoomi’s stomach, but her body is on the bed. Kin is on his thighs, the small boy hugging the muscular leg. You let out a silent giggle at the cute sight in front of you.

And all that happiness fades when you suddenly feel lightheaded. The feeling of being nauseous hits you so you run to Kia’s bathroom, which wakes everyone in the room up.

“Babe, are you okay?” Kiyoomi asks you he shakes his kids off his body.

“See, papa? I told you mama has our baby sister in her stomach!” Kia states as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“We’re having another child?!”

End.

——————————————————————————

Thank you so much for supporting my first ever story here. This will forever have a special place in my heart. I hope you all enjoyed it ♥️

[foodieforthoughts]

Hey!

I’m not exactly sure how to “ask for a request”, I hope I don’t sound rude. I’m wondering if you could do a little somethin somethin..

Based on me, if that’s okay. Here’s what I’m thinking:

23 year old from Australia, moved to London and works as a Youth Worker, with Henry. I just truly admire Henry, he seems so kind and smart. I just love to imagine that we’d be each other’s rock. I’m also half Italian, so I have lots of stories about my crazy family. And pasta. I love pasta.

Hey honey. You are not sounding rude at all. And you work as a youth worker? You truly are an amazing person ♥️ here's a little drabble for you, included Italian sentences but I hope I am not wrong about it. I hope you like it 🥰

Title: Better half

You felt your heart swell as the kids around you cheered your name. They were your children, even if not related to you biologically, they were your family. They had come from broken families, struggling with their lives and you had seen them grow from despairing little angels to be transformed into joyful spirits full of life.

It was stressful at times though. For you to be someone's shoulder to lean on, you had to be strong and it left you drained sometimes. If it wouldn't have been for the man with his group of kids a few feet away, you wouldn't have survived.

Henry had actively decided to join you at the child support centre on weekends. His schedule overlapped with his dedication to work at the centre but he made it a point to keep a tab on the kids he helped. He had donated a hefty sum for the development of the compound, but it was his angelic human nature to provide that made you fall in love.

You urged your kids to get back to their activity and decided to stand back and watch Henry interact with his group. He had a little girl perched on his thigh while he read from a children's book. Kids of various ages were sitting on the mowed grass and listening to him attentively. It made things easier for him since they already looked up to him as Superman, even if he didn't require much help. He was a natural with them.

Sometimes you couldn't believe how you got so lucky. Moving to a foreign land from your home country had been difficult in itself. You had gone home with a heavy heart everyday, replaying the horrible things that had happened to some of the kids at the centre. When the days were better, you didn't have anyone to share that joy with. You weren't lonely, but it always seemed nice to have someone by your side.

And that's when you had stumbled upon Henry.

You had gone on a field trip with the kids and Henry had been casually walking his dog in the park. The kids had screamed when they had noticed him, excited and enthusiastic, running to Henry and Kal. You had been worried they would be a nuisance for him, you knew celebrities would much rather be left on their own most of the times. But he was nothing like you expected him to be.

Henry had happily listened to the kids, letting them play with Kal and also told them fun facts about his childhood. He had gone out of his way to buy ice cream for everyone too and that is when you both had spoken to each other. He had been attentive while you had told him about your work, asking for ways in which he could help. The kids had gone back to the centre happy and satisfied that day and you, with a new found respect for Henry.

Two more times you ran into him and on the third day, he asked for your number.

"Hey," Henry nudged your shoulder with his, pulling you out of your reverie.

"Hey, you."

"I think I can come with you for the whole week this time. The kids really want me to come and I spoke to my manager and got atleast a couple of hours cleared up." He grinned at you. Bringing his arm around your shoulder, he stood with his hand on his hip, watching as his group played along with their friends.

You took a moment to gaze at him. Henry had so quickly become your everything. He was kind-hearted, considerate, loving and perspective. Even if you were still getting to know him, there was nothing that would make you think lowly of him. He was a beautiful human being, inside and out, and it left you stunned sometimes.

"I love you, Henry." You whispered, putting your arm around his waist. "You are my rock."

"I love you too, baby." He said, smiling and discreetly placing a kiss on your forehead.

"How about this, when we go home, I can pull out my grandma's pasta recipe and we both can cook dinner together?"

Henry nodded with a huge smile on his face. "Sì bellissima." You blushed as he effortlessly spoke Italian, one of the many reasons that had made you love him even more. "Farei tutto per te."

"I'd do anything for you too." You laid your head on his shoulder, looking at the kids and feeling blessed with a man who was most certainly your better half.

[harrylilies]

The Royal Series | Pt. I

The Royal Series Masterlist

I posted this series in 2018 but in late 2019, my blog got hacked and I lost all my work. This is me reposting the written chapters of The Royal Series after crying to my husband after I lost it along with all my writing on here. Enjoy. x

It had been long since you had let your hair down for a night.

You longed for a lowkey life, although you knew that the royal protocols you had been following since you were a child were far too embedded in you – yet, you knew how to have your fun.

You found fun in your trips to get milk and cheese yourself, in the strolls you went on in the early morning, when you attended a friend’s wedding, when your oldest brother wasn’t Prince William who was close in line, but a protective brother whom you teased for being old, when your ginger brother, Harry, patted you on the back and helped you with the plans that would make your grandma, the Queen, not necessarily pleased, when you danced with your best friend, and,

when you listened to music; which explained where you were that moment.

The arena was lit, some people who passed by you walking past you without a care, probably thinking that a princess in a Harry Styles concert in Los Angeles was too far-fetched, while others stood stunned.

In your defence, you looked unsuspicious in your black merch hoodie and black jeans, your best friend, Farrah – whom you met at university –, beside you in a casual attire as well, but the two bulky men walking behind you and close in black suits and wireless earbuds did little to conceal you.

Reaching your seats, you grinned at your best friend as you sat. From your peripheral, you saw your two private guards looking around, standing in the aisle beside Farrah’s seat.

“Hey,” you grabbed their attention, pointing with your thumb behind your back at the empty seats, “Would you please sit?”

“Your Highness w-”

"Please, it's a command. Sit here, enjoy the show." You told the two guards who intently looked at you before giving a reluctant nod.

In your balcony seat, your eyes then fell on the stage in anticipation.

"Your Highness," You heard someone beside you, making you look.

A brunet man, no older than 32, stood with a polite and kind smile.

You smiled. "Are you Jeffery?" He nodded, beginning to politely bow his head a tad. You offered your hand with a wide grin, "Thank you for giving me seats in such a short notice, I’m really sorry for any inconvenience."

"Oh no, it really is a pleasure, your Highness." Jeff tipped is head.

"Just Y/N." You smiled, glancing at the stage as the opening act were saying their goodbyes. "He's coming out now, isn't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he is. Have you been a fan for long?" Jeff asked as you both stood alongside each other, looking at the stage.

"Quite long actually. Since One Direction," You giggled, shrugging, "Always wanted to attend one of their concerts but only now have I been able to do so. Harry has a lovely voice. I have the album on a lot." You laughed, letting Jeff in on your secret, “But hey, keep that between us.” You joked.

Jeff chuckled, "Who would've guessed that the Princess of the United Kingdom is a Harry Styles fan?"

“Trust me, you’d be surprised.” Farrah said, joining in as the three of you laughed.

“I’ll be right there with the rest of the crew,” Jeff pointed at a different place where people from the crew stood, almost all of them looking at you. At you looking at them, they all turned in embarrassment which made you chuckle to yourself before looking at Jeff who had a bashful smile, “Sorry about that. It’s exciting.”

“It’s exciting for me, too.” You assured him.

“Well, please call me or have anyone to do so if you need anything, your H-” you gave him a look, “Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jeffrey.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

The lights flickered off, your heart fluttering in excitement as you stood up, beginning to cheer with the fans.

The notes of Ever Since New York started playing before the lights were on, making you finally see the man you had flown out to see.

In a blue floral suit, Harry stood with his guitar before he began singing, Farrah recording you as you dramatically sang along.

With every song, you and Farrah let loose; dancing together and screaming the lyrics, vibing with Harry and his band. Hell, you caught one of your guards bob his head to Only Angel before his colleague swatted his arm.

It didn't take long for more people to notice the presence of the English Princess and her famous best friend, some phones and flashes being directed your way but experiencing the excitement and utter euphoria of it all, you chose to ignore the attention.

You were captivated to say the least by his performance, posting stories to your private Instagram account, isthataladybug, of a 102 follower.

You knew that he was a cheeky person who enjoyed a nice chat, so him walking around with his mic and talking to fans wasn’t of any surprise, yet, you didn’t predict him addressing you.

"I would just like to greet someone incredibly special here tonight," Harry said through the mic as he wandered on stage before looking your way, "Hi!" He grinned, waving at you. "All well?"

With a grin and flushed cheeks, you nodded and gave him thumbs up.

With a dimpled smile, Harry tipped his head and gave you a curtesy which sent everyone in a frenzy and you and Farrah to laugh.

Farrah nudged you, making you turn to look at her. "We're meeting him, right?"

You shrugged, "Jeff said we will. Said Harry would have his head if we didn’t.”

To say you were disappointed when Harry said his goodbyes after finishing the setlist would be an understatement, although the fact that you were meeting him seemed to brighten you up a tad.

Backstage was chaotic.

Everyone was running around, wanting to be on their best behaviours and look like it for when the Princess came in, every person telling the other that Jeff was on his way to get you and your best friend and that in just a few, they would be seeing the Princess of the United Kingdom in the flesh.

Harry was no better, pacing around the room, making sure he looked decent and collected. Running his fingers through his hair, he turned to look at his band, “How do I look?”

“Like you’re not going to pass out in any second.” Sarah said sarcastically.

"Fuck, I'm so nervous." Harry laughed, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit trousers.

"So am I. Who would've thought that I'm going to meet the Princess of the United Kingdom? Someone better film this." Clare said before letting out a breath as the band stood in the dressing room.

"I-" Adam was cut off by a knock on the door.

They looked at each other with wide eyes before Harry cleared his throat, standing straighter. "Come in!"

Jeff came inside first, his figure hiding yours before he walked further inside and you and Farrah were then seen. The grin on your face was contagious.

Lined, with Harry at the end, you began to shake hands with the band.

"You were absolutely amazing!" You said as you shook their hands, one by one before reaching Harry.

Neither of you knew that the other was about to pass out from the nerves and excitement as you both smiled at each other.

"Thank you for the show. You're as good live as the studio version, if not better." You said.

Blushing at the comment, Harry softly shook your hand. "It's my honour, your Highness."

"Y/N," you corrected him, your hand still in his. "Just Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry repeated with a charming smile. "An honour, Y/N."

Being this close to him, you noticed how emerald Harry's eyes were. Raspberry pink lips and blushing cheeks, he was a sight for sore eyes.

It was cliché, anyone from the outside would say so, but have a 23-year-old Princess meet a 23-year-old artist whom she had been listening to for years and try not to make it cliché; hell, cliché or not, it was a meeting for the stories.

Farrah clearing her throat was what brought you out of your trance, making you remove your hand from Harry's.

"Well, we were actually going out for a drink if you want to join? Is that okay for you?" Sarah asked, “Oh my God, I just asked the Princess to grab a drink with us, I’m so sorry, your Highness.”

“Hey, no, no,” you quickly shook your head, “It’s fine,” you glanced at the guards and your best friend who gave you a nod, "I’d love to join if you’re all okay with Farrah and I joining. We wouldn’t want to interrupt any band-bonding time."

"Of course!" Harry grinned. "We're more than okay."

Telling you the lowkey bar – that served “amazing fries and boneless chicken wings” as Adam said – they were driving to, you exchanged “see you later’s” before you separated ways.

Right as you sat in the car, Farrah turned to face you, “What was that?”

In confusion, you looked at her, “What was what?”

“You and Harry fucking Styles! What was that?” She laughed excitedly, “Please make it happen.”

“Make what happen? You’re a lunatic!”

“You just pulled a Nicholas Sparks back there; ogling at each other, holding hands like yes, Mr. Darcy, I’d let you wed me.” She said dramatically, putting the back of her hand against her forehead.

“First of all, never do this again,” you cringed jokingly, “Second of all, what’s wrong with you? I have a conversation with a lad and suddenly I should get married to him?”

“He’s not just any lad, don’t discredit him like that.”

“Why don’t you go out with him then, Miss Farrah?” You teased her.

“Because I’m Muslim and it won’t work out, you know with our fa-”

“I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t when I said you pulled a Nicholas Sparks.”

“I should’ve brought Emma instead of you.” You let out a sigh.

“Imagine if she could’ve joined though. It would’ve been Emma and I against you.” Farrah poked your arm.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Arriving at the bar, you and Farrah entered, finding that it wasn’t at all crowded but quite the opposite. Very few people were inside, all seeming to mind their business as they ate and drank, a jukebox playing music to add to the atmosphere of the place.

Among the people, your eyes fell on the band you were meeting, Harry instantly standing and waving at you with a grin.

They had left you seats, although you knew your guards were going to stand as your shadows.

Sitting on the opposite seat from Harry, you were seated beside Sarah, the “discreet” excited expression she gave to Mitch not going unnoticed but you only smiled to yourself instead of commenting.

“This was your second show, wasn’t it?” You asked, all of them nodding and replying with confirmation, “Any idea what this tour will have for you?”

“So many headaches,” Hélène replied in her French accent with a chuckle, “So, so many headaches.”

“Brighten up,” Clare nudged the photographer jokingly, “It’s only the second night.”

“I feel like this tour would be a milestone in all of our lives,” Adam replied, seeming to avoid eye contact with you before he looked at his bandmates, “Literally all of us.”

“A-Are you okay?” Farrah asked him, causing Adam’s posture to relax as he laughed.

“I just don’t know if I should look at you,” he said as he looked at you, “What if it’s disrespectful? Illegal?”

“Oh my God, no,” you laughed as you shook your head, “I’m sitting at a bar in Los Angeles with you, Adam, that’s not exactly a Trooping the Colour.”

“When we first heard you were attending,” Harry began, “We all just sort of,” his eyes widened before he laughed, “You know what?” He turned to look at Adam, “That’s a milestone right there.”

“You speak too highly of me,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, “What about all of you? That album, tonight, you should give yourself more credit.”

“Makes sense that people love you so much.” Mitch said with a small smile.

“Not everyone loves her, excuse you,” Farrah joked, raising her hand up.

“Ah, bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, “You love me the most.”

“No?”

“That’s denial.”

Conversations seemed to flow naturally among everyone at the table, laughter being heard as well as a few claps from how hard one of you would be laughing.

It wasn’t until you realised that you hadn’t drank anything that you stood up, “I’m going to grab something to drink. Does anyone want anything?”

A chorus of “thank you’s” was heard, you fully knowing that they probably hadn’t bothered to even ask you to get them anything because of your title.

“I’ll bring these fries and wings for all of us you told me about.” You pointed at Adam.

“I’ll join you.” Harry said, standing from his place and approaching you before the both of you walked towards the bar.

“Sorry if they make you uncomfortable.” You mumbled to Harry as you both sat on stools.

“Who?”

“Sid and Andrew, the guards,” you replied, “They’re the sweetest actually.” You smiled at the men who stood at a safe distance away from you but nearby, both of them tipping their heads at you before they began looking around.

“No, of course not,” Harry shook his head, “I thought you’d have more with you honestly.”

You waved off, “No, two are enough. Daddy wanted me to walk around with 6 but,” you laughed, “God, no.”

Harry smiled before his smile turned into a smirk, “Did you just say Daddy?”

“Ye-Gross, stop! That’s my father!” You groaned, stuffing your face in your hands as Harry laughed, “How old are you, Styles? 14?”

“And a half actually.”

“Ha, ha.” You tried to stifle your smile as you looked up at him, “It’s Mummy and Daddy for us, excuse you.”

“It’s cute.” Harry smiled timidly.

“It was until you commented.” You teased him, giving him a shrug.

“I apologise, your Highness. Please, don’t behead me.” Dramatically, Harry put a hand to his heart.

“I’ll think about it.” You put both hands on the counter gracefully, placing one above the other as you turned away from him before the both of you laughed.

Neither of you had noticed that you hadn’t ordered yet, only remembering when the bartender came over to take your order.

After ordering, you were both quiet, listening to the music that sounded in the place, you swaying slightly in your seat as you looked around.

"Are you not scared?"

You turned to look at Harry, “Excuse me?”

“Are you not scared?” He repeated.

"Of what?” You asked.

"Being seen in here. The rumours. I mean my rumours I can take care of but royal rumours?" Harry shrugged.

“Why? Are you scared?” The tiny smirk that was your lips were drawn into didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, feeling his lips lift into one of his own just at the sight of yours.

Harry took a moment to drink you up; the vibe you gave off was nothing he imagined. The dainty, soft princess he saw on the screen ever since he was young wasn't who sat in front of him.

In front of him was a confident woman, fearless and ready to seize whatever risk thrown at her. A woman who refused to have her identity shaped up and formed by her family and what the world was trying to limit her to, all for a title.

That's why with a thumping heart and an amused smile, Harry replied; "No, Princess. I'm not scared."

[newtonsheffield]

In the books Gregory seemed like the brother most appreciative of Anthony and other than Eloise the only Bridgerton sibling to actually acknowledge everything Anthony had done for the family and what he gave up. And as an Anthony Bridgerton fangirl I’ll take what I can get from them bit it always made Gregory and Anthony’s relationship kinda special to me. I was hoping we could get some insight into them in the Bridgerton & Sons universe. Maybe Anthony and baby Greg or Anthony dealing with Gregory setting down kinda young wife and baby in tow, or whatever you want dealer’s choice!

Hello! 

You’ve actually hit on something I feel very strongly about  which is that the other Bridgertons (whether it’s because they were young at the time or not) don’t really seem to notice the sacrifice and responsibility that comes with being the Viscount. Possibly it’s because he would never really let them see anyway, and he’s not the kind of person to share his burdens with people (as we know). And I firmly believe that the only person Anthony ever shares things like these with is Kate. But! I think Gregory, and the man he becomes is partially a result of the behaviour that Anthony modelled for him as a married man and we see in On The Way To The Wedding how much he admirers the relationship Anthony has with Kate and wants the same with his own wife. 

I don’t think my love of Gregory is a secret at this point. Nor is it a secret that I love and adore his relationship with Anthony and Kate. And I LOVED exploring their relationship in Unexpected So Here 👏🏻We 👏🏻Go👏🏻

Anthony Bridgerton was nearly 11 years old when he traipsed into the hospital room for the sixth time in his life to meet his new sibling. And as usual, He held the tiny baby, Gregory his dad had said, and a new responsibility seemed to settle on his chest again. 

Of all the things that had happened when their father died, the worst was the way his youngest siblings coped. Gregory wasn’t even seven yet, and he kept asking their mother again and again, Where’s Daddy? Why isn’t he here?When’s he coming back? And Anthony’s heart had broken when he’d taken Greg, still so small, his glasses on straps, his batman sneakers flashing as he walked up the stairs and had to say Greg, Dad’s not coming back buddy. Sometimes Adults have to go, and we don’t get to see them anymore. And his heart had broken again when he held his brother as he cried and cried 

Anthony tried and tried, when he’d been at University, and then when he’d started work, but he always seemed to be missing so much every weekend when he came home, Gregory looked to have grown a foot, and suddenly, before he knew it Gregory was a man. And he stood proudly with his mother the day Gregory graduated from high school, clapping and cheering with the rest of his family. But Gregory still seemed so lost, so unsure of himself, and it just seemed like another way Anthony had failed. 

Gregory was truly happier than he thought he would ever be working for Anthony. He felt like he had a purpose for the first time in his life, and he enjoyed the work, enjoyed studying. But more than a little part of him enjoyed spending time with Anthony. Getting to work alongside his brother, get to know him even more, watch how he interacted with people, with everyone well it was his favourite part of going to work. You don’t have to keep working here, Greg I just want you to be happy. Anthony had said one day, casually, as they sat across the table from one another after a meeting. Gregory stilled, a lump forming in his throat as he said, his voice small I really like working with you, Anthony. And Gregory pretended to look away while Anthony quickly wiped at his tears.

Gregory was nervous. Very Nervous. Today he’d woken up knowing that tonight he was going to ask Lucy Abernathy to marry him. He knew it was right, he loved Lucy. Loved the way her quiet support made him want to be better, his best self, loved seeing her every day as a reminder of why he wanted to work hard, loved the way her smile made his heart do an odd stutter and butterflies beat against his stomach. And he knew they were still so young. He wouldn’t be 23 until next month, and Lucy the month after that, but he wanted the rest of his life to start as soon as possible. If he was sure about this, why should he wait? He’d been practicing this speech all morning by the time he slipped into his brother’s office. Anthony looked up expectantly. Gregory nervously adjusted his glasses, shifting his feet, Umm Anthony, do you think you might like to go home early today? I know that you miss Kate and Edmund and umm you could- Anthony sighed Are you really trying to use my baby to get an early day Greg or do you have something else in mind? I mean, it’s working but it is a little beneath you. And Gregory took a deep breath his heart racing as he said I want to ask Lucy to marry me tonight and I know you probably think I’m too young but Ant. I really love her and I’m ready for this responsibility. The words rushing out of him leaving him a little breathless waiting for judgement from The brother he looked up to almost as a father. Are you done? Anthony said a look of surprise on his face. Gregory felt his eyes narrow, unsure as he nodded. Good. Anthony said, standing, wrapping Gregory in a tight hug as he whispered in his ear I am so proud of you Greg. Lucy’s so lucky to have you. And Gregory couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.        

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me

Chapter One: I’m Stuck 

I won’t lie when writing the cute parts of the story I listened to “I’m Stuck” by Noah Cyrus.  

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: None 

Read Prologue here   Masterlist

You stumbled into your favorite coffee shop. You were a mess this morning and it’s all because your alarm decided to fuck you over and not wake you up on time. Luckily your body didn’t completely betray you, naturally waking up an hour later than you had planned, but still giving you a half hour to get to your meeting. 

You had screamed when you saw the time, this meeting could be your next big break, and getting there late was not how you wanted to start a new design deal. At a mere 23 years old you were still making your way up into the world. After graduating college a semester early you had worked your ass off and started your own independent interior design business. You focused on designing office spaces for big businesses using workplace psychology to create an environment that brought up productivity and reduced the stress of workers. 

Your business was slowly gaining traction, but the company you were meeting today could really put your name out there. 

You had planned to wake up early, put yourself together and center yourself over a cup of coffee, however, life can never be that simple. So here you were, quick light makeup and your hair in a simple bun rather than the elaborate “I am a professional” look you planned. The one thing you did have going for you was your outfit, a white blouse that complimented your figure and tan capri pants, with a strappy heeled sandal. You had made sure it was spotless and ironed before your big day today, so at least you had that going for you. 

“Oh darling, you look a bit out of it, are you alright?” Your favorite barista and dear friend Ava, asked, her green eyes filled with concern. 

“Av, you would not believe the hell of the morning I’ve had.” You groaned. “I woke up late today and I have that huge meeting I told you about and all of the things I had planned to keep me grounded and ready flew out the window.”

Ava let out a tsk sound and patted your hand. “Oh babe, in that case, coffee’s on me. Take a deep breath. You’ve been planning for this meeting for weeks and with that amount of work and dedication, you’re definitely going to knock’em dead.” 

“Ave, you are the light of my life.” You said, already feeling lighter than you did when you first entered. 

“Oh babe, I know.” She winked, brushing a stray purple bang out of her eye. “I want an update on everything afterwards, you’ve got my number! James will have your coffee ready for you at the other end. Good luck!” 

“Thank you! I promise I will!” You grinned and made your way to the other end of the counter, where your coffee was waiting. 

Knowing your order by heart, James had already started your latte the moment you walked in, you thanked whatever God listening that it was ready so fast. James gave you a shy smile and handed you the coffee. “Here you go.”

“Thanks James.” You gave him a kind smile and turned to leave. Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had ten minutes to get to your meeting, but luckily it was just up the block so you would get there right on time. 

But like you said nothing is ever easy. You weren’t exactly paying attention as you walked out of the store, you were double checking your bag to make sure you had everything, so naturally you slammed into someone, causing coffee to get all over your blouse.

You let out a yelp, while a large hand came out to steady you. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A male voice asked. 

“Well, aside from the fact that I have a meeting that could change my life in 5 minutes and now I look like a disheveled mess with coffee on her blouse, I’m fine.” You grumbled finally looking at the face of your accidental attacker. Your heart stopped for a moment. 

He was stunning. Shoulder length curly brown hair, caramel eyes, and a TALL, fit body.

He was clearly flustered as your eyes met. His face had a gentle dusting of pink across it and his eyes could barely meet yours. “I really am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention- uh- here!” He began to shrug off his cardigan. “This should be able to cover up most of the stains.” He thrust the sweater towards you. 

Now it was your turn to be flustered. “Oh no, really, I can figure something out-” 

“You said this meeting is supposed to change your life right?” He interrupted before you could stutter out anymore excuses. You nodded. “While I don’t want to be the person that ruins your life. Just wear it to your meeting and uh, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning and you can just give it back to me then?” He blushed a deeper crimson, as a big smile grew across your face. 

“I would love that, thank you so much.” You put on his cardigan and buttoned it up. He was right, almost all of the stains were covered. “How do I look? Professional?” You asked him.

“Beautiful- I mean yes, professional, you look great!” He smiled, pushing a shoulder length curl behind his ear.

You blushed, but quickly forced yourself to regain your composure. “So I’ll meet you here at 7 tomorrow-” You paused looking at him for his name. 

“Dr. Reid, well, Spencer, call me Spencer.” 

“Spencer.” You smiled. “I will see you tomorrow then.” 

That was the first time you met Spencer Reid.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer arrived 30 minutes early to the coffee shop to get a table, he felt fidgety and nervous. He hadn’t even caught your name yesterday before you left and he felt like an idiot. Of course he bumps into the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, spilt coffee all over her, AND forgot to ask her her name. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t even show up, it’s not exactly the best first meeting. 

30 minutes later when you walked in, he thanked a God he didn’t even believe in. You looked less bewildered than you did yesterday, but no less beautiful. 

You had chosen to go for a business casual look, your hair curled and flowing past your shoulders, a deep red blouse, black denim jeans, and black heeled boots. You had Spencer’s cardigan draped over your arm, you had made sure to wash it before giving back to him. 

You searched around the patrons until your eyes met Spencer’s, your whole face lit up as you made your way over to him. 

You had no idea that somebody else was watching you as you made your way over to him. You were too distracted by Spencer to feel the angry gaze that burned into your back.

“Hi.” You said shyly as you sat down. 

“Hey.” Spencer said smiling at you. 

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, a concerned look crossing your face.

“Oh no, not at all, I just came a few minutes early to get us a good seat.” Spencer lied, not wanting you to know how early he actually came. 

“Well you choose right, this is the best seat in the house. It’s right by the counter where you pick up coffee, but it’s the perfect window seat to people watch.” You explained. 

“Yeah, did you know coffee is actually a fruit?” Spencer asked you. “They’re actually the pit of a berry and grow on a bush. 

You let out a giggle, “No, I had no idea that was even a thing. At least I can use that as an excuse when I get chastised for drinking too much. Where did you learn that?” 

Spencer blushed. “I tend to pick up random knowledge here and there. Which reminds me, I never got your name yesterday before you ran off.” 

“Well Dr. Spencer Reid, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You grinned offering him a hand. “No fancy title, but I am doing my best for simply being a Miss.” 

Spencer would usually avoid handshakes due to all the germs, however he wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, which was warm and soft. 

“(Y/N).” He tested your name out on his tongue. You smiled. 

“Have you gotten a coffee yet?” You asked him, getting up to head to order.

“I had one a bit earlier, but I could use another one.” Spencer answered, getting up to follow you. 

As you approached the counter you tried to ignore the smug look Ava gave you, praying she wouldn’t say anything. She gave Spencer a not so subtle up and down look, checking him out and obviously finding him attractive. You gave Ava a stern look that told her not to say a word. 

She just gave you a wink. Spencer had picked up on all of this, his profiler skills not missing a thing. A small smile crept across his face and he swallowed back a laugh. 

You gestured for Spencer to go first, “I’m buying, to thank you for letting me borrow your sweater yesterday.” 

Spencer looked at you in bewilderment. “No way! If anything I’m buying for destroying your coffee and spilling it all over your blouse before your ‘life changing’ meeting!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Spencer, just order the damn coffee. I promise you it won’t break my bank. Especially after I got the design yesterday.” You grinned. 

 Ava let out a squeal. “You did not! Oh my god, I knew you could do it girl! All of your hard work paid off!” 

Spencer’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I’m glad our collision didn’t ruin anything.” 

You let out a laugh. “If anything I think your cardigan brought me good luck, I even got a couple compliments on it. I may just have to keep it.” You teased 

Spencer’s heart warmed at the idea of you wearing his clothes. “Well if it brought you that much luck, maybe I’ll just let you keep it.”

A voice behind the two of you cleared their throat. “Are you guys going to order? Some of us have places to be.” 

You glanced behind you at the woman, a small line had apparently grown behind you and Spencer.  “Sorry about that. Ava I’ll just do my usual. Do not let Spencer pay.” 

Ava raised her hands defensively. “I’m just here to make coffee love.” 

“I’ll just do a large coffee with extra cream and a lot of sugar.”  Spencer said. 

You went to grab your wallet from your purse, but Spencer cut you off, cash already in hand. 

“Spencer.” You whined and Spencer just shrugged. 

As you made your way to the counter, you found it a bit strange that James had just left your coffees there. Usually he would at least wait a moment to say hi before taking off to make more orders, but you shrugged it off, they did have a line right now so he probably had to focus on getting the coffees out to customers. 

Though the two of you only got to spend about an hour together, the two of you had immediately hit it off, completely unaware of the eyes that had been burning through you as they watched throughout what you and Spencer would later consider your first date. 

_______________________________________________________________

From there it was a whirlwind of dates snuck between cases and your design jobs. After a little over a month Spencer had asked to officially call you his girlfriend and you had obviously accepted.  

It was ridiculously cliche how quickly the both of you had fallen for each other, but you had just seemed to click right away. You loved Spencer’s logical mind that went on and on with random facts, he loved your creativity and energy. Your minds worked well together, helping each other out when the other got stuck. 

As your relationship progressed, you found yourself spending more and more time at each other's apartments.

“Ava, he's just a dream. I’ve never felt like this with anyone ever.” You explained joyfully. 

You had sat in your regular window seat, while Ava remained on the  other side of the service counter. It was a bit slow in the shop today, so she had come over to get all the details on “your smokeshow boyfriend.” Since she was the manager of the shop and beloved by her boss, she could get away with it.

“Oh hon, if he has a brother, let me know.” She purred, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to check on James who was holding down the fort for her. The boy stood by the register, poor thing looking a bit bored. 

James was a year younger than you and apparently starting grad school, but his shyness made him seem so much younger that you felt this slight protectiveness over him even if you only knew him from around the shop and stories from Ava. 

His eyes met yours and you gave him a sympathetic smile. He blushed deeply and turned away, scampering to busy himself. 

You looked back at Ava, giving a little nod towards James, “What about James? He seems sweet and he’s cute.” You waggled your eyebrows at her. 

Ava snickered. “(Y/N/N), he is sweet, but way too shy, he can barely look me in the eye. I need someone who’s more of a dom if you know what I mean.” She smirked. 

You pouted at her. “Poor James.” 

Ava shrugged, “He’ll find his someone. Anyway you’re switching the topic, back to your dreamboat. You said he was an FBI agent? That’s heroic and sexy.” 

You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, he’s part of the Behavior Analysis Unit. They create profiles to help solve different criminal cases. It’s actually amazing. Spencer is giving a lecture about it at a college this Friday if you want to come with me.” 

“I’ll come, but only if I get to officially meet your sexy doctor superhero boyfriend.” Ava smirked. 

“Well obviously.” You smiled. 

________________________________________________________________

The boy’s breathing was heavy as he struggled to control his anger. He watched the Doctor’s tall form strutting across the stage, his long brown hair swinging back and forth as he broke down profiling and the criminal cases he and his BAU team had solved. 

From where he sat in the lecture hall he could watch the doctor while also keeping an eye on you. You were sitting near the front, your friend by your side.  It was hard to miss her with her deep purple hair, that’s how he always found you. Though to him, you outshined everyone in the room. Even the ridiculous doctor. 

He growled to himself as he observed your look of awe. He knew you two had made your relationship official. He knew almost every detail. Like how last weekend, the Doctor had come home early from a case and had surprised you with your favorite flowers: pink dahlias. You had spent the whole rest of the weekend together; you had brought him to your favorite Thai place, then went to both of your favorite bookstores. He knew everything. 

He knew where you lived, your schedule, the design projects you were working on. He watched and he listened. He followed you home some days. Other days, he would simply wait outside your apartment building. He knew what window to watch if he wanted to catch a glimpse of you. 

The worst days are when the Doctor would be with you. He would watch as you two joked around and kissed, it made him sick. 

He didn’t like the Doctor. He hated hearing him ramble on to you. Fact after fact, never shutting up. But he understood him as he had researched him, found his accomplishments; he was a prodigal, graduating high school at the age of 12 and earned three PhDs. He worked for the FBI, catching criminals and profiling them. The Doctor constantly had something to prove, how could you be with a man so weak?

The Doctor was someone who could hardly befriend anyone besides his books, so how had the Doctor gotten you, when he had always been there? The Doctor did not deserve you, the Doctor could not give you what he could. Yet here you were, giving this man a ridiculous moon-eyed look that he did not deserve. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left. 

He made his way down the hall towards an all-too familiar office, one that he practically lived in. 

He was greeted by his usual cheery eyed professor, Professor Irving. 

Never one to miss anything, Professor Irving raised an eyebrow. “You’re back early, how was the lecture?” Professor Irving asked. “Isn’t that Dr. Reid something else?”

“He’s alright. Someone worth looking into for sure. I left early to get ahead of these reports you wanted me to help grade, I do have a life outside of classes.” 

Professor Irving smirked at him. “Son, I have known you too long, the only three places you go are classes, your job, and your apartment. I was hoping this lecture would show you how much the world has to offer, I mean look at Dr. Reid! He was one of the youngest to ever join the BAU-”

“ENOUGH about Dr. Reid!” He growled, interrupting his professor. 

Professor Irving just stared at his student, shell-shocked. 

The boy shook his head and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry professor, that was uncalled for, I have just been stressed lately.” The boy began picking up the papers he had to grade. He wanted to get through some of these as quick as possible, that way he could spend his weekend with you. 

Professor Irving solemnly nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve been stressed lately, is that girl of yours acting up still?”

The boy sighed as he shrugged on his bag full of student’s reports. “Something like that. Listen, I know you said Dr. Reid is going to continue to come back and give lectures every few weeks or so. I will go to those ones and actually stay for them. Who knows? Maybe it will help me with my thesis paper. I just- I just can’t focus tonight, but I will do better. I promise.” 

Professor Irving nodded. “Of course, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” 

The boy nodded then left the room.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST:

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn  @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz​ @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi​ @iifloweringnightsii 

[we-have-bangtan]

BCO (Bulletproof Crime Org.)

____________________________________

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Theme: Mafia au, poly au, smut, gore

Warning: Swearing, smut, gore, Hobi and Jimin smooch.

VERY UN-EDITED

SO SO SO LONG

___________________________________

Chapter 1 || chapter 2 ||

 ___________________________________

______________________________________________________

She was tempted to smash the window with the tennis ball she had been given in order to stay entertained. She hadn’t realized how boring house arrest was in all these years, she vowed to never let any of her victims go through this.

               She stood up, going to look out the window again, gang members littered the lawn, 2 to the right, 3 towards the corner of the building and 2 more directly across from the window. She’d have a tough time running away, not that she had any plan to do that.

  She felt like Rapunzel in Mother Gothel’s castle, just that here she had 7 mother Gothels. She considered throwing the ball as hard as she could at the two men, one with pink hair and the other with black hair, to the right of the window; just to practice her aim. She decided against it, picking up an apple from the fruit basket Taehyung had delivered to her this morning, preferring to chuck an apple at them instead. 

    She leaned out of the window, aiming with one eye closed and threw it with all her might, the apple she had thrown meeting the head of the one with pink hair, “Heyyyy” the boy yelped in shock, looking all around to look for where the apple came from, he didn’t notice her in the window right behind him.

   The boy with black  hair seemed to convince the guy that he was imagining stuff. The two of them went back to their conversation as Yn smirked to herself, finally some entertainment, she thought as she grabbed the smaller basket on grapes, tossing one of them at the pink haired one again before quickly moving away from the window just as someone knocked on the door. 

   “Come in” she yelled, hurriedly moving away from the window as Jungkook peeked into the room before entering, “Supp” he asked, looking around her room, it was nice, comfortable and bright, it had a very comfortable bed and an arm chair that was a little squeaky, “Same ol’, bored, how long will I be under house arrest?” she asked making the youngest of the boys raise an eyebrow at her.

   “You’ll be under house arrest till your injuries have healed, and the fuck you mean bored, I could literally see you throwing fruits at Yeonjun” he said, calling her out on her bullshit, “yah, what am I supposed to do when I’m bored” she defended, Jungkook walked over to the window as he spoke, “I didn’t say you had to stop, I actually came to join you” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the black haired fellow.

      She quietly dragged a chair towards the window, taking the fruit basket with her as well, handing Jungkook an orange before taking a grape for herself. Jungkook aimed at the dude’s head with all the concentration that he had before throwing the fruit which met with the poor boy’s forehead. 

   “Aish, you blew my cover” Yn huffed as the guy looked up at them. “Ah, don’t worry about it, I can entertain you instead” he assured as he saw Soobin take Yeonjun away from the window to a place out of their range. 

     Soobin would have given anyone else a piece of his mind if they had done that to him but now that it was Jungkook and the boss lady, he would lose his life if he even looked at them wrongly. He’d complain about it to Jin hyung later he decided before going back to his conversation with Yeonjun.

    Jungkook fell back on Yn’s bed as she too moved away from the window to join him, making sure not to put any pressure on her injuries. “I need clothes of my own don’t you think?” she said, looking down at the clothes one of the girls in the compound had lent her, they were nice but not exactly her style.

      “Why, are the ones you have now not enough?” he question taking a moment to look over the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, “It’s not they aren’t enough, it’s just that they aren’t my style” she admitted as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve. 

  She and Jungkook had come to a mutually understand each other in the past three days. He’d come to the room to check up on her and somehow managed to stay back to entertain her for a while before he’d have to go again. He was a few months older than her and was constantly bugging her about it, he’d whine and groan when ever she didn’t use any honorifics but he had come to the understanding that she was not going to use honorifics with him or anyone in the group.

He was comforting and entertaining and a dumbass at times, but he was nice, he wasn’t the 7th leader of Bulletproof crime org, the biggest criminal organisation in Korea. He was Jungkook, a goofy 24 year old with an addiction to banana milk.

      “We’ll see, I’ll as Namjoon hyung if we can go to the mall, do you have money?” he asked as he got up from his spot to strecth his body a little. “Ayaaa, my card is at the compound back home, I need to sneak in to get it” she huffed, already devicing an action plan on how she would get it back. 

              “You can just open another account you know, no need to go back home, how much was in it anyway?” he asked, worried for her safety although he knew she could handle herself.

        She really didn’t have to risk her life to get a dumb credit card, plus, cash was better than car, it didn’t leave tracks anywhere. Jungkook looked at the pretty girl in front of him, she looked like she was contemplating whether to go or not. He didn’t want her to go, honestly. It was a waste, what if she got caught by her old gang, they’d behead her themselves. “20 million won, and I need to end them anyway, might as well get some work done when I go to get my card” she answered leaving Jungkook’s jaw hanging.

    “20 MILLION WON??????” he exclaimed, “does the bank not get suspicious? how did you even get that much money?” he questioned, eyes wide with concern for the 23 year old. “It’s a bank run by a close friend who will be relieved if I show up there, but I cna’t go to the bank yet, I’m wanted” she explained, popping a grape in her mouth before continuing, “And i get money the same way you do, through deals and private missions” she answered. 

 “Do you have private clients?” he asked, he had never been a private assaissin nor had he ever met anyone who was a private assassin, he was curious about it. “Yeah, most of them are politicians or other gang leaders” she answered, “anyway when is the earliest that I can get out of here?” she questioned, successfully diverting the topic. 

  “Probably in a few days” he answered, being vague on purpose. “Be more specific” she demanded making him chuckle, “Aish, so demanding” he teased, before continuing, “The day after tomorrow, if all your injuries heal properly” he finished, heading to the door, 

   “ Ynnnn holding Jungkook us again I see” Hobi playfully scolded as he brought a bag of snacks to the table, giving her a bag of shrimp crackers that she had asked for when he had told her that he was going to town for business and asked if she needed anything. “Thank you!” she said, grabbing the packet before ripping it apart, “Aish, I didn’t know you liked them that much or I would have bought more” Hobi said watching as the young assassin devoured the crackers two at a time. “You guys literally gave me fruits, which sane person would have fruit as a snack” she accused as Jungkook left the room quietly so he didn’t have the patience for her whining right now.

_______________________________________________________

                      2 DAYS LATER

________________________________________________________

“I’m free, I’m free, I’m free” Yn yelled as she went into Namjoon’s office, Namjoon just groaned at how noisy she was before asking her to take a seat. “Do you have somewhere to be immediately?” he asked her as the rest of the boys filed in to join the discussion. 

       “No where important, but I need to get my money” she answered, Namjoon nodded, Jungkook had told him about it earlier. “Will you do that before or after your test? and when do you want to take your test?” he asked making her look at him with a raised eyebrow, “can I finish the test now and I can leave for a short while to get my shit done before I come back” she asked, he nodded.

       A gunshot echoed through the compund as Yn moved out of the way, Jimin had fired a wax bullet at her, it wasn’t meant to hit her. Just to warn her. She quickly climbed onto the chair as Namjoon yelled the rules, she could run anywhere in the mansion at the count of three, but the moment she was hit with the bullet she was out, 30 men were out there to catch her, she had an hour and if she passed the test she was eligible to join the gang.

 It was basically a game of tag except that it was 1 against 30 and she didn’t have any weapons either, “Do I get a gun too?” she asked, scanning the room frantically for a way out. “Sure, if you want but it will have only 5 bullets, anyone who gets hit cannot hunt you anymore” Namjoon said, laying out the conditions out for her, she nodded and was quickly tossed a revolver, she checked her ammo before tucking the gun away in her waist band. “Do I get to hurt anyone?” she asked again, gaining a nod from Namjoon.

          She held her breath, hearing multiple guns being loaded, which way to go? should she make for the door? no. Taehyung was guarding it, what about the table? no again, Namjoon was staring at her with a revolver in hand, casually spinning it like it was a toy. She never thought a man with a revolver, ready to shoot her would look that sexyy.

She looked left and right, Jungkook and Yoongi were on one side waiting for Namjoon’s count and it was the same case for Jimin and Jin. “1!” Namjoon hollered as she looked all around the room, she should be prepared, “2!” he counted as her eyes landed on the window, her mouth curved into a smirk, she found her escape. 

  “3!” Namjoon yelled as she leaped out off the chair as high as she could, landing directly in front of the window before jumping over, “GET HER!!!!!!!” Hobi yelled as he barged out of the office chasing after her. 

    Yn’s thigh stung as she landed in the floor below the office, it looked like a sort of library with rows and rows of floor to ceiling shelves full of books, she quickly jamp atop a shelf, laying herself flat aginst it as she dragged herself by her hands to the end of the row noticing Beomgyu not very far away from her. She silently crept down, using the shelves as a ladder to climb down from the top, she clenched her teeth when a few books fell from the shelf she was holding on to.

   Beomgyu turned around to see what the sound was, he looked down at the fallen books with confusion, ‘must have been the wind’ he thought with a shrug turning around when a sharp pain went through his head before blackness enveloped him.

    ‘Heh, weak boi” Yn thought as she rubbed her knuckles, despite how effective temple punches were, they were a bitch when it came to the pain to her knuckeles. Just as she was going to relax from this dumb game she heard Hobi’s voice outside. He was loudly talking to Jimin who was being just as loud. 

    She climed the shelves when she heard them some closer and almost lost her shit when she saw them enter the library, she didn’t want to hurt them or shoot them, yet. She peeped down at them watching as Hoseok went through the library never once looking up before he stop right under the shelf she was on. 

  “Yah, Hobi hyung, what do yout think of her?” Jimin asked as he leaned against the shelf, they didn’t seem to sense her presence in the room. “She’s nice, she’ll fit in well with us” Hobi admitted as he moved closer to him, pushing Jimin against the shelf, Yn almost popped an imaginary boner when she saw them roughly kiss each other. She wanted to look away, she really did, but she couldn’t tae her eyes away from the two of them.

     She made the mistake of trying to get more comfortable, caying the shelf to creak making the two lovers move away from each other, she quickly grabbed her gun, moving as silently as she could as Hobi and Jimin looked around to find her, “Ynnieee, I know your here” Hobi sang as he walked into the row a little away from her, “click, aim, shoot” she whispered to herself as her hands followed the actions watching with glee as Hobi yelped attracting Jimin’s attention.

    Yn quickly jumped out of the window again, climing up the water pipe to Namjoon’s office only to see Yoongi relaxing in Namjjon’s boss chair, a glass of bourbon in front of him, she hung by the window sill, trying her hardest not to be seen as but she felt someone grab onto her leg, pulling her down. She quickly kicked the hand off, looking down to see Jimin with a mischevious grin on his face,   

    “Yah, Jimin-ah let go!!” she yelled as she struggled to maintain her grip on the window sill, Yoongi heard her yell and grinned as he walked towards the window , he looked down at her with a sadistic grin on his face, he looked like Scar from the Lion ing for a moment there, with his hands on Yn’s, ready to push her off just like how Scar had done to Mufasa. 

   “Okayyy super villain, pull me up and I’ll give you like 2 million won” she bribed, kicking at JImin’s hands aggressively, “Make that 4 million and you have a deal” he countered, “how about 3 million instead?” she bargained, giving him an almost blinding grin when he pulled her up. 

   “You better keep that bargain up and don’t kill anyone” he said as he dusted his hands off before retaking his seat.”I swear I will! and I can’t promise that I won’t kill anyone” Yn yelled as she casually strolled out of the office only to come face to face with Taehyung, he gave her a naughty grin, “Gotcha” he said, grabbing her arm, she quickly jabbed at his neck and the unsuspecting fellow fell to the ground with a thud. 

  “I told you not to kill anyone” Yoongi said, peeking from a crack in the door. “He’s not dead” she assured as she made for the staircase, crawling up so no one can spot her. She checked the time in the fancy Rolex that she had stolen from an unconcious Tae, 30 minutes had passed, 30 more to go. 

  She snuck up the stairs when she saw Yeonjun on the other end of the sprawling corridor, quickly preparing her gun she set her aim, steadying her hand before she pulled the trigger, the gunshot was loud and echoed through the compund as the bullet hit Yeonjun in the side, he didn’t seem surprised infact, he tured towards her with a smirk before gesturing for her to look up.

       She tilted her neck to look above her to see seventeen men staring down at her, their guns aimed straight at her, she held her breath as she jamp down thw stairs right as they all fired their guns, she almost got hit more than once but she was quick enough to get out of the way before they could touch her.

  She huffed as she ran down the stairs, scolding herself for not hitting the gym as regularly as she could. She could feel how unfit she was, she was out of breath and panting, she was hungry from all the running around and she realized just how much of her stamina had gone down in the last few days.

   She huffed and cursed as she ran downstairs, but hurriedly crept away when she heard footsteps, she cursed to herself as she hid, holding her gun out incase she might need it. She took a deep breath, waiting for the person to pass her when pain shot through her arm, Jungkook stood next to her, his grip tight on her elbow causing her great pain. She quickly jabbed at his stomach making him let go of her before she grabbed his gun from his pocket, he seemed to be unprepared to catch her explaining why his gun was still in the hollister.

          She pointed her own gun at Jungkook’s head, a grin taking over her tired and sweaty face, Jungkook almost fell for her in that instand, seeing her hold a gun to his head, looking fucking gorgeous with at smile on her face. He steped closer, pressing his head against the nozzle of the gun, Yn instinctively took a step bac only for her back to hit the wall when a sudden yell made them junp away from each other. 

     “You’re supposed to shoot each other, not make out you know” Jin yelled looking down at them from the top of the stairs, he wasn’t gonna lie, he had felt thirsty when he had seen the two of them in that position. Yn pointed Jungkook’s gun at Seokjin and pulled the trigger only for Jin to duck away fromt he bullet, “Stay fucking still” Yn growled as she took aim again.

      Jungkook almost went feral at the sound Yn made. Her gun still pressed to his head. The next shot rang out, hitting Jin in the chest and Jin dramatically fell to the ground holding his heart, “What a damsel,” Yn scoffed as she kicked Jungkook away from her before shooting him with his own gun. 

   Jungkook wasn’t even offended that he had lost the game, he happily hopped up the stairs to join Jin hyung who was going to the kitchen to make a snack for himself, the bright orange stains on their clothes, a batch of both honor and shame.

  Yn looked around the mansion when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see Soobin standing behind her with an unimpressed look on his face, “Supp” she said with a wave, “everyone is looking for you, Jimin hyung is convinced that you ran away”  he said, rushing her to Namjoon’s mansion. 

   The boys were quiet surprised to see Yn being shoved into the office, her face puffy and her hair sticking out in every way, thry thought she had ran away. “Where were you,we’ve been lookig for you everywhere” Namjoon said as Seokjin walked towards her to take the revolvers from her, tossing the purple one to Jungkook and tucking the other one in his own holister.

   “Taking a nap” she answered cheekily as Namjoon got behind his desk, “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” he asked as he pulled out a box from one of the drawers, she shook her head, craning her neck to be able to see what was in the box.

   “Good, because you have a mission” Namjoon said, pulling out a sleek dagger from the box, its handle had a snake design, making it look like the snake was coiling itself around the handle, the sharp blade, glinting in the light. 

    “Yahh, so pretty” Yn said as she reached for the dagger only for Namjoon to pull it back, “not for you, I’m supposed to take a blood oath of loyalty” he said, as he took a hold of her wrist, “Don’t cut too deep” she said as he placed the blade on her thumb, he pushed down on it causing it to bleed before letting a few drop trickle down her thumb onto the paper with the oath written on it, right next to her name.

“Congratulations Yn, you are now a member of the Bulletproof crime organisation, I’ll give you a week to settle all matters outside the organisation.” Namjoon said, putting the paper away.

  “Can I still continue with my private assassinations?” she asked, sucking on her bleeding thumb, “Yes, on the condition that you give 10% of whatever you earn to the mafia and we have a say in which missions you accept” Yoongi said as he too got up to go have dinner. 

 “As long as you don’t push too much, we’re good.” she said, before following him to the dining room. 

    She needed to eat up, she had work to do tomorrow.

___________________________________________________________

A/n: Next chapter will be up whenever I find time to write. <3

____________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@thefreddieman

____________________________________________________________

[redrobin-detective]

Crawls out from the Pit

Alright so after about 2 and half weeks I have finished all 8 seasons, 80 episodes of Ben 10 Omniverse. I’m a little sad to be done but also glad to have my free time back (also if I have to hear that motherFUCKING opening theme again I will actually cry). So it was an experiencing one that was both super enjoyable but also infuriating. Let me break down my thoughts (with some spoilers) under the cut.

Things I liked

- From the very first episode I was, and still am just fascinated by the basic world set up. Ben Tennyson is known across the entire universe as a hero and wielder of the Omnitrix, everyone he meets knows who he is. Coming off series with locked down secret identities Ben’s status as a universal celebrity had both pros and cons and was simply fascinating to watch.

 - Aliens are common in his hometown of Bellwood and there’s a thriving populous under the city. Watching aliens and humans interact with awkward moments and periods of adjustment was damn interesting, great world building in there too.

- The Plumbers being intergalactic peace keepers of sorts (again with all the good and bad that come with essentially being space cops) and having a presence on earth and beyond. Ben’s status as being part of the organization but not a true member, one who really answers only to himself was intriguing.

- For all that I nitpick Ben and Rook’s relationship (stilllll not seeing shippers sorry) I loved Rook Blonko as a character, he was delightful. I also did like Ben and Rook’s relationship bc their individual prejudices and problems kept them from becoming actually close and reliant on one another and while it came close at times it never really resolved which I’m okay with.

- Love the time travel shit *chefs kiss* Professor Paradox my beloved. Also I would die for No Watch Ben. And why is Ben 23 so popular? He’s a lil bitch.

- Genuinely did love the cartoony artstyle, I was obsessed with how green Ben’s eyes were. My personal fanon is the Omnitrix has slowly made them green and glowy over the years. Also the flashbacks to 10-11 year old Ben, baby diagnosed. Such a cutie patootie. 

- Speaking of which, loved the frequent callbacks to the original series (my first and favorite). OV felt way more connected to that Ben that I first fell in love with than AF or UAF.

- Ben, when his character was executed right, was wonderful. A big hearted teen who has way too much power and responsibility just doing his best. He covers his fear of failure with jokes and a deceptively casual attitude. While he can be lazy and overconfident and doesn’t think things through, he is dedicated to what he does not for fame but to help people and his determination and adaptability always see him through. 

Things I Didn’t Like

- So when Ben was done right it was great but my biggest peeve was how they changed his personality, maturity, competency level episode by episode. Sometimes he was capable of complex negotiations, sometimes all he could do was complain and eat junk foods, sometimes he he could sheer climb walls, other times he was pathetically weak without his Omnitrix. Needless to say I was really irked by the dangerously immature & reckless, rude to the point of being mean, willfully idiotic moron version of Ben who didn’t care about anything.

- When I first started someone said the first half of OV was good and the rest was not. They were right, loved S1-4, 5-8 had good episodes but overall was either cringing or rolling my eyes. S5 in particular aggravated me with Ben being at his worst. I was pulling my hair out at Ben yelling about how ugly and monstrous the citizens of Anur Transyl were like Ben... you regularly turn into those aliens.... your whole deal is being able to see from other’s perspectives...

- Just, the lack of taking itself seriously or following through on some damn interesting storylines. Like Ben being put on trial for recreating the universe? And being found guilty not just of that but misusing the Omnitrix??? That’s good shit right there but they waved it all away with some trial by combat bullshit and well back to normal. I know its a cartoon but that episode infuriated me. 

- Gwen and Kevin... didn’t care for them much here. Their characters just felt flat and shoved in whenever it was convenient with no real meaningful interactions between the supposedly close trio. They really were thrown under the bus to make room for Rook and the whole Plumbers thing.

- Kai *long groan* Honestly any attempt to address Ben’s love life was so nightmarishly bad. Everyone who says that Ben is Aromatic is absolutely correct. Boy hardly showed any interest in dates and tried to get out of most of them and yet he was ‘destined’ to be with a girl who was shown only to care about his transformations and not him? And that he didn’t really respect back? Hell no.

- Most of the villains were kinda Meh. Maltruant was cool but underused, we hardly got ANYTHING interesting out of the series big bad Vilgax, Albedo was... still don’t know what to think of him. Malware was cool tho, the whole Feedback thing was painful.

So overall the good outweighs the bad but I liked it far more at the beginning than I did the end. I’ll rewatch some of my favorites but probably won’t do a full binge again. Still, I love the idea of this particular universe and really did enjoy most of my watch!

[thekitchensnk]

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 23)

Rating: T Warnings: Violence - sadism, murder Pairing: Gin/Ran Part 1: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 Part 2: Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21 Part 3: Chapter 22, Chapter 23

“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

What kind of beast are you, Ichimaru Gin?

What are you becoming?

--

--

--

(What could drive a man to kill a god?)

--

Aizen played white. Gin played black. 

He held territory on both corners of the board, but it wasn't enough. He could see the tide beginning to turn against him, white beginning to eat away slowly at his lines. Aizen was closing in. There could be no escape.

The board and the pieces were finer than any he had ever played on. The stones were not, in fact, stones at all, but rather perfectly carved pieces of bleached and blackened lacquered wood. They felt smooth in his hands, hands that had once been rough and calloused from the filthy work of keeping himself alive.

It was quite the step up in the world, he thought idly, to be playing on an actual wooden board, and not some scrap of cloth on which he'd had to draw clumsy lines - and quite something to be actually playing someone who as proving a challenge to beat.

He was going to lose, he realised distantly, and on his first time playing on an actual board as well. He hadn't been playing his best, but it still rankled him to be beaten. He frowned in concentration at the board, and seeing no path to victory, chanced a quick glance up at his opponent.

That was a mistake - Aizen caught his eye and held his look, and there was a glint of casual, entertained cruelty there.

He knows, Gin realised, brows furrowing only slightly. He knows he's got me beat. An’ worse, he knows I know he knows. What does he want? Where do I go from here?

There were four games going on; the game of go, with all its exciting swapping of pieces and setting of traps; the game of minds which had always existed above the game of go, the manipulation above the game at which Gin had always excelled, and then -

Aizen's game. Gin's game.

He’s won the first game, and probably the second. But they don’t matter, he thought with a hard stare. This one does. This matters. I’m beat, but - 

“I forfeit.”

Something dark lit up in Aizen’s eyes, like an ember suddenly come to life in a breeze.

“You’re very good,” he said appreciatively.

Gin shrugged carelessly. “An idiot could have seen it comin’.”

Aizen gaze was dark and his tone mild. “Could they, though?” he murmured. “You’d be surprised at how much an idiot does or does not see. You played well, for what it’s worth. Up to the point where you didn’t.”

The man paused, and he leaned forward.

His eyes were brown, Gin couldn’t help but notice; a warm brown, like honey, like rich wood. There had been a Rukongai girl with eyes like those, once upon a time, and Aizen had killed her. Her essence had faded into the air like tea in hot water.

“Why did you kill the third seat?” Aizen asked, the look in his eyes searching.

A lie came to him easily. It came easily because had it been any other person he had murdered, it might not have been far from the truth.

“Jus’ felt like it,” Gin said simply.

That seemed to entertain Aizen. “Oh?”

“Ain’t no ‘oh’ about it. That’s it. I killed him because I felt like it. Because I was strong. Because he was weak. Because I was bored.” Gin waved a hand abstractly in the air and stretched out.

“And that’s all?”

“Yep. Sounds about right.”

Aizen considered it a while, and then he smiled patiently.

“Are you a beast then, Ichimaru Gin? Is that all you are? A creature that blindly follows its impulses? Nothing but a creature of nature? An animal that eats when its stomach growls, kills when the impulse befalls it, and defecates when its bowls tell it to?”

Is that so far from the truth? Gin wondered.

He let himself fall backwards towards the tatami mat with a delighted laugh. There was still blood on his eyelashes and under his nails.

“I think that’s exactly what I am, Vice-Captain Aizen.” Gin informed the man, grinning. “I see that the armband of yours ain’t just for show.” He rolled over onto his stomach, and let his chin fall into his hands. “Yes. I’m a beast. Let me be a snake,” he said playfully, and the words rang with truth. “Cold of flesh and devoid of heart. My tongue flicks back and forth, always in search of new prey, and if I like what I find…” He caught Aizen’s eye and grinned for him this time. “…I swallow ‘em whole.”

He sighed theatrically. “Poor old Mr Third Seat.” The words rang with menace, and the grin was like a sickle. “Poor, poor third seat. I did like him. Best be careful, Vice-Captain. I might end up take a likin’ to ya’ too.”

Aizen looked down on him, and smiled strangely.

“A snake...” he considered, weighing up the notion. “A snake. Yes. Slithering through the mud on its belly, rising to strike; vicious, poisonous even...” His voice trailed off. “But a small snake yet. Sit back up.”

There was a command as strong as iron in that voice and so Gin dragged himself from where he had been lying. Aizen took a slow, thoughtful sip of his tea.

“You were messy. I can’t help but wonder at that. You were not so far removed from the fifth division barracks that no one would stumble upon you at work. Like a beast indeed, to kill so openly and without thought. Strong, to have bested a third seat. Skilled, to have graduated in only a year. And clever...” He looked down at the go board. “Without a doubt, clever.”

He looked Gin straight in the eye.

“It will be a shame when I tell Hirako what you’ve done.”

Gin’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and he bared his teeth.

“Ah,” Aizen said, a dark gleam in his eye. “Were you labouring under the impression that I wouldn’t turn you in? That we’d play a while and I’d let you go on your merry way? I’m afraid not. They’ll send you to the Maggot’s Nest for this.” He paused. “It will be an absurd waste of talent, don’t you think? Verging on criminal itself. But they must have their justice. And it costs me nothing to give it to them.”

The irony was not lost on Gin as he gritted his teeth. It had been a long shot, he knew, playing to Aizen’s hunger for knowledge, his sense of intrigue, in the hope that he would take him on.

But it was not over yet. Black still had pieces on the board.

“Must they? Why? Why bother?” he asked lazily.

“‘Why bother?’” Aizen said in imitation, a small, victorious smile playing about his lips. “Why am I going to turn you in, you mean?” he said casually. “Because you’ve lying to me, and it would offend me to let you think I hadn’t noticed it from the instant we began this conversation. Trying to lie and failing, for what that’s worth, though you surely must realise that now. I’ll ask once more, and only once: why did you kill the third seat? Lie again and I’ll know.”

Gin was silent for a long moment.

“Well?” Aizen said, triumph in his eyes.

“I-“

Let him see something of the truth. Let him see what kind of beast you really are.

All of a sudden, he felt his muscles relax. He let himself fall forward again onto his forearms, slouching comfortably again on the floor.

“I wasn’t lyin’,” he objected. His voice sounded half a whine, but at least it didn’t tremble. “Got caught up in a passin’ fancy when I saw Mr Third Seat out and about walkin’ so late. But ya’ right, Mr Vice-Captain - very forgetful of me, would forget my own head if it wasn’t stuck on my neck. Missed a bit out of my story, didn’t I?” He paused dramatically, grin back on his face.

“I wanted ya’ to see me, Vice-Captain. Wanted ya’ to see me with your own eyes so that ya’d know what kind of beast ya’ve got on ya’ hands, so that when the moment came and I asked, ya’d know.”

He leant in conspiratorially.

Aizen’s brow darkened. “I’d know what?” He asked dangerously, patience running thin.

“Aah. What a helpful boy I can be.”

Aizen paused a moment, his eyes searching Gin’s face intently.

“You know?” he said, realisation immediate, words fraught.

“Bingo,” Gin said, delighted.

Aizen gaze was soft with menace. “Oh,” he murmured. “But of course you know.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Gin confirmed with a grin.

“And I take it you’ll take no pains to divulge to me how you learned of such things?”

“Ya’ a smart man, Vice-Captain.”

“A smart man would not let you live long, Ichimaru-kun,” Aizen said, and the threat was delivered levelly.

“Maybe, maybe. But there’s more than one way to gut a pig if ya’ a creative sort, and I think ya’ know that.”

Aizen leant back and considered him in silence. His chestnut hair hung about his face and his glasses gleamed in the lamp light. He made no move to speak further. It was a dangerous silence flung at him.

Gin shifted impatiently where he sat.

“I want in,” he said bluntly. “Don’t throw away a tool ya’ can use, Vice-Captain. Mr Third Seat wasn’t even third rate. He was trash. His guts were on the floor before he even thought ta’ suspect me. He was shit on someone’s boot. You want me quiet, then keep me quiet – but I think ya’ve got more about ya’ than to resort to somethin’ as borin’ as killin’ me, not when ya’ could try me out.”

Aizen’s silence was heavy and threatening.

Nothing from him. Nothing at all.

Let him see something of the truth. Let him see what kind of beast you are.

“They’re weak,” Gin said suddenly. “All of them. Worse than weak. They prate and they shuffle about to do your biddin’ and they bleat “Aizen-sama, Aizen-sama” like sheep. When they kill, they don’t kill for you. They don’t even kill for themselves. They do it because they’re nothin’ and they want to be somethin’ so badly and they’re so – so small that they can’t even grasp the kind of something they want to be, how pathetic what they desire is, how little they know how to become it. They’re so pathetic that they’re not even worth hatin’. They’re just… Nothin’. I don’t understand that. I’ll never be nothin’.”

It took Aizen long moments to speak. An expression began to pull at his lips. His smile was slow and predatory - and yet something of an alien humour danced in his eyes.

There was nothing gentle about the look. Gin had never seen its like before, and had he no knowledge of the man, he might have called it a kind of respect.

Riding high for a moment, he did not anticipate the question that came next.

“Nothing? Really? If they’re all so small, then why do you kill them, Gin? If they’re nothing at all, then why bother? Why even notice them? If they’re so small... Why do you do what you do?” Aizen asked softly.

He’d said too much and realised it a second too late. Panic began to creep up his gorge and sweat pricked at his skin.

Because that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? The suffering he inflicted – what it revealed – it was interesting. It was fun. They... were fun.

But no one else could know that. They would kill him if they knew.

The question pried at places that were too secret, too intimate to see the light of day– warm, dark places into which light had never shone, places so murky that they would swallow up the light. He had never before let himself be uncovered as blatantly as this, allowed himself to be so exposed - not to someone he then hadn’t gone on to kill.

There had been one time – a time long ago – when he had killed four men in town and had trudged back to Rangiku doused in their blood and smelling of their burnt flesh. It had ruined his yukata and the blood had settled into his shoes, never to be washed out. He had trembled to think of what she might say to him, certain that she would leave. She hadn’t.

But she hadn’t acknowledged the truth either.

Here and now, the question could not be avoided. Not if he wanted to see her again. Not if he wanted to make her whole again.

The price of tangling with the devil had always been to stake your soul. He knew, down in his gut, that he could never have expected to escape unscathed. But for a moment, he let resentment boil up in him.

For a moment, it was aimed at her too.

“What I-“ he stopped, and he drew in a deep measured breath. He found that despite his immense self-control, he could not keep looking Aizen in the eye. When he found the breath to speak again, his voice was low. “When I kill I – I see somethin’ true. In their eye. Ya’ see them dance. Ya’ see the truth they’re always hidin’.”

Aizen’s expression was warm. It was appreciative. The hair on Gin’s arms raised in a shiver of disgust. “That was the most honest thing you’ve told me all evening, Gin,” he murmured. “I appreciate your honesty. Truly.”

He rose slowly from where he sat and moved to look at the moon still hanging overhead in the sky, bloated and corpulent like fruit gone foul.

“Mutual bondage in co-conspiracy, you and I,” Aizen said slowly. His voice was low and rich. “No detail that you could divulge for fear that it would stick to you too. For every finger I drag through the dirt, a corresponding trace on your fingers; a stain for every stain of my own. An elegant, symmetrical solution. You know that your age will stand as no defence were you to betray me, and you know that I know where the bodies are buried.”

Aizen turned to him, and Gin knew suddenly that the wage had been deemed paid.

(Everything that happens now happens because you made it that way.)

Black was still on the board.

“The position is yours. We start again tomorrow.” Aizen smiled. “I look forward to working with you, Gin.”

---

And just like so, he became a shinigami and apprentice to Aizen Sosuke.

And for a time – the first time, in fact – Matsumoto Rangiku began to fall slowly from his mind.

---

[rosy-cheekx]

I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

-

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

-

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

-

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

-

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless?  Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)