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#don’t sound annoying in the tags but like. validation feels good once in a while yknow 👉🏼👈🏼
puppyeared · 2 years
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!!! i always love seeing doodles of your ocs and reading the tags ab their silly little storys theyre all incredebly deliughtfull even though i cant rember anyones name but everytime the shadow guy and pink puppy show up im like!!! aww hell yeahh shadow guy and pink puppy person this is awsome :]]]
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YYOU GUYS…. 🥺🥺
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cinnoasch · 3 years
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I just had an idea, Akechi with an S/O (their not dating yet) and they have a toxic boyfriend and when Akechi meets him he just thinks, "guess i have one more target" and he tries the hardest to keep up the Detective Prince facade in front of this guy because he's just filled with so much rage at this one man.
A/N: Ohoho, I love this idea. I had an idea for a bad ending of sorts, but let me know if any one wants that ending as well. Thank you Anon and hope you enjoyed! And hopefully this turned out alright!
C/W: Toxic relationship on/off, slight cursing, angst(?)
Word Count: 1885
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hostile Third-Wheel (Goro Akechi x Reader)
“You look upset Y/N. Did something happen?” Akechi asks, looking up from his paperwork when he notices your expression.
You let out an annoyed sigh, waving your phone in the air as you sit across from him. “My boyfriend. He accidentally reserved a table for 3 for our date tonight and being the stubborn lazy ass he is, refuses to call the restaurant to change it. He told me to invite a friend.”
“On your date?”
“Mhm, and he said...” You say as you hear your notification ring. “To preferably bring a girl... ‘Just kidding, winky face.’“
“He sounds like quite the charmer. And you can’t change the reservation yourself?”
“You know how the restaurants are, they rather have the person who did the reservation to change it.”
“You do make a valid point. Well then, how about inviting me?”
You look at Akechi in surprise. “You want to tag along on my date? Wouldn’t you just feel like a third wheel?”
Akechi smiles lightly, “Well, I guess I would feel like somewhat of a third wheel, but I have never met your boyfriend. I’d like to know what your taste in significant others is like.”
“Not funny. But I will say, it hasn’t been... the best. I think I really... got it this time.”
Akechi noticed the hesitation on your face and in your words but he didn’t mention it. He knew the many heartbreaks you had been through, although he never met any of your previous significant others. He was the one that you called during those nights, hearing your crying and hoarse voice as you explained how you recently were dumped. While it hurt more for you than him, Akechi could not help but feel upset. He may be the only one who harbored feelings between the two of you, but even if you did not return those feelings; he’d still be there for you no matter what.
“Anyways, I am allowed to join you two right? Your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“Not at all. He says he’s fine with it. So see you tonight at 7? It’s the one restaurant near Seaside Park in Odaiba.”
"Ah, I’ve been there on occasion. If I remember correctly, you often frequented the restaurant with your previous significant others. You know if you keep bringing them to the same restaurant for dates, it’s not as special as it seems.”
“I know, I know. I guess I just stick with what I’m comfortable with. Any who, see you tonight!” You say with a wave as you take your leave from Akechi’s apartment.
When you close the door behind you, your smile fades. You had been through this too many times before. You knew what was going to happen tonight. And after tonight, the cycle would repeat itself just like it always had for the past few months.
------------------------------
“So, this friend of yours, is Goro Akechi?” your boyfriend asks as you two walk the path heading to the restaurant.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“No particular reason. I just hope you don’t think about leaving me for him. We’ve been through this enough times, so you know the drill. We always come back to each other.”
“I know... the thought never crossed my mind.”
“Not even once?” They ask, tilting your face towards them.
“Not even once.”
“Good.” Your boyfriend removes his hand and opens the door for you. “Let’s keep it that way then.”
You sigh quietly, straightening out your clothes as you walk through the door. You never knew why you always got your hopes up. Breaking things off and getting back together was what your relationship was. You knew from the start that the relationship wasn’t good, but you always found yourself drawn back. You always questioned why this was the way that things were. Were you just content with any type of love? Even if it was the worst kind? Or were you just denying the fact that you could never have anything better than this?
You feel your arm being tugged as you look up to see your boyfriend trying to move you along to the table.
“C’mon, your friend’s waiting.”
You give a nod as you walk to the table with your boyfriend. Akechi waves with a smile when he sees you two, and stands up from his seat.
“Hope you weren’t waiting long, Akechi.” You say with a small smile.
“Not at all. So this is your boyfriend? I’m Goro Akechi, pleased to meet you.” He says holding his hand out for a handshake.
Your boyfriend introduces himself, lightly shaking Akechi’s hand as he does. The three of you sit down at the table and decide what to order before starting a conversation.
“So, how long have you two been dating?” Akechi asks. A small smile graces his face, however he was staring intently at your boyfriend. You noticed that your boyfriend did whisper something to Akechi earlier while they were introducing themselves, so you were somewhat concerned.
You’re about to answer but your boyfriend slings an arm around you with a grin. “Y/N and I have been dating for a few months now.”
“A few months? Is that so? Y/N told me they’ve had a few other significant others within the past few months.”
“Ah, that’s them trying to save face. Y/N and I have a sort of on/off relationship. They just can’t get enough of me so they always come crawling back.”
Akechi glances at you but quickly turns his gaze back to your boyfriend. “Really now? How peculiar, you don’t see those quite often anymore.”
“I guess not, but guess we’re just made for each other.”
Akechi only nods in agreement, his fists were clenched underneath the table. Was he upset that you lied? Yes. But the thing that bothered him the most was your boyfriend. He could immediately tell that your boyfriend was bad news when he saw you two walking up to the restaurant. How he had that condescending look on his face when he talked to you, his words just now, implying that you couldn’t do any better than him. It made Akechi’s blood boil.
It seems that I have a new target to take care of.
Soon the waiter comes and takes your orders, silence filling the air for a few seconds until your boyfriend speaks up.
“So, Akechi. You’re that Detective Prince that’s always on TV right?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
You twirl your straw in your drink, already knowing the question that would pop up.
“You must have a lot of fans, right? All those girls surrounding you must be nice.”
“Well, fans are expected, although all of the attention can be a bit much at times.”
“Ya don’t have to lie, you must love the attention right? Though I’m surprised you aren’t dating someone yourself. You could get any girl.”
“I suppose. But I bet if you were in my shoes, you’d relish in the attention wouldn’t you? You strike me as the type of guy who... sleeps around I would say.”
You shoot Akechi a look, but he only dismisses it with a smile and laughs. “Aha, I apologize. What am I doing asking those sorts of questions with Y/N here?”
Your boyfriend chuckles, “Oh, Y/N doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, babe?”
“Like hell I don’t.”
“Oh come on, Akechi’s just joking around.”
Akechi grins, “Well... it seems my deduction was correct. You are that type of guy. Truly despicable. Y/N deserves much better than you, don’t you think?”
Your boyfriend stands up angrily, “What the hell are you trying to say?”
“Other than you’re a piece of shit?”
You stand up next, “Alright, let’s all calm down now. Akechi, a word?”
Your boyfriend sits back down, crossing his arms as you take Akechi to the side to talk to him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s forcing yourself to be in a relationship with that dumbass over there.”
“Who I date is none of your business.”
“It is my business. Who’s the one who has called me every time crying because they got dumped? What’s even worse is that you do nothing to get yourself out of it.”
“Who says I haven’t tried?”
“Y/N. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve actually tried to get out of your relationship.”
You clench your hands, unable to look Akechi in the eye. Who were you kidding? You had simply accepted how things were going to be between you and your boyfriend. An on and off relationship that only hurt you.
Akechi sighs. “Look, I’m only saying these things because I care about you. And if you won’t break it off, I’ll do it for you.”
The look in Akechi’s eyes told you that he was dead serious. Yet, there was some hint of malicious intent behind his words. Would Akechi really turn to violence to break things off between you and your boyfriend? Well, that question wasn’t needed since you were made aware of Akechi’s hostile side.
“Fine. I’ll break it off. Just give me some time.”
“Hmmm, no. Do it now.”
You glare at Akechi. “Now? Are you crazy?”
“Like I said if you don’t, I will. And my methods are much worse than a simple ‘I’m breaking up with you’.”
You only nod, not wanting to barter with Akechi any longer, and walk back to the table where your boyfriend sat. When he sees you walking back, he stands up with a smile. “So, did you tell Akechi off? Ha, I bet the look on his face was priceless.”
“Actually no. I’m breaking up with you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m tired of this, me staying loyal for some piece of shit boyfriend who sleeps around. I’m done with you.”
“You bitch!” He raises his hand to slap you but Akechi appears behind you and grabs his wrist forcefully.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Your now, ex-boyfriend looks at Akechi in fear. You didn’t want to turn around because you were sure that the look Akechi was giving this guy was one that could kill.
“Now, if you would please lower your hand once I let go.”
Your ex-boyfriend only nods and once Akechi lets go of his wrist he bolts out of the restaurant.
You let out a sigh of relief as you turn to face Akechi. “Thank you for that. I guess a push was all I needed.”
“Not a problem. But if I may ask Y/N, why did you put up with it? The Y/N I know would normally break it off immediately when it became that type of relationship.”
You chuckle a bit sadly as you seat yourself back in your chair. “You know, I thought so too. But eventually, it just became a cycle. My thoughts started to invade my mind, telling me that that type of relationship was the best that I could handle. That it couldn’t and wouldn’t get any better. I’m pathetic aren’t I?”
“Your taste in S/O’s could be considered pathetic I suppose.”
“Low blow, but I’ll take it.”
“Well you did need to hear it. Anyways, I think we can salvage this failed date somewhat. What do you say Y/N?”
“Sure, why not.”
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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years
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Liquid Courage & Promises Kept
Rating: Teen and Up
Words: 3558
Read it on AO3
Tagging @today-in-fic
December 20, 1999
She’d been standoffish lately. Well, she’d been standoffish today, yesterday she was actually borderline flirty. He was having a hard time reading her from one day to the next, unsure if the difference in her demeanor was real or if it only existed in his head. At times he was sure she returned his affection; the flutter of her eyelashes over her icy blue eyes and the slight part of her pouty lips appearing as an invitation, and he’d almost accepted it several times. Almost. Something always got in the way; a knock at the door, the ring of a phone, the sting of a bee or the sudden aversion of her gaze, self consciousness dragging her back inside herself and away from him. He thought he could see the internal struggle in the set of her shoulders and the tuck of her chin. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she couldn’t admit it to herself, and he wasn’t going to push her. He’d waited this long, what was a bit longer?
Today, the typical relief that comes with a Friday afternoon was overshadowed by her businesslike demeanor, the perfectly polite but impersonal way she answered his questions, and the thorough but unemotional way she engaged in conversation with him. The more she withdrew, the more he advanced, grasping for some feedback, some response that soothed his feeling of rejection.
“Any big plans this weekend?” He inquired, resorting to small talk, which they typically didn’t need.
She didn’t look up from the file she was reviewing. “I’m getting dinner with an old friend from undergrad tomorrow. That’s about it.” Her tone was flat and disinterested, but not annoyed. She didn’t ask him about his own plans, not that he’d have had anything to share.
“Scully….are you okay? Did I do something?” He hated the whiny tone in his voice, the insecure way he sought her validation.
She looked up then, her brow knit in confusion. “No, why do you ask?”
“You just seem kind of…off? Distracted maybe? You don’t seem like yourself.”
He saw her sit up a bit straighter, just a touch more life enter her eyes. “Sorry, Mulder. I’m fine, it’s just been a long week I guess.” She offered him a thin smile. She was placating him, that he could tell, but he still wasn’t sure why.
He returned her tight-lipped, not at all genuine smile, nodding. “Glad to hear it.”
They finished out their workday, she wished him a good weekend and left the office quickly, before he had the chance to attempt walking out with her. Part of him wondered if “dinner with an old friend” was a euphemism; did she have a date? Maybe she was going out with an ex? He’d certainly been less than supportive (not to mention mature) when he’d been aware of her going out with someone in the past, so it would make sense that she’d hide it from him. Heaving a defeated sigh, he locked up the office and headed into a weekend full of boredom and misplaced jealousy that he didn’t have any right to feel.
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Saturday he had slept in, played some basketball at the Y, and stopped by to check out the Gunmen’s latest research to pass the time. It was now half past 8 and he realized he hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so grabbed his keys and headed to a restaurant in DC that had the best burgers, in his opinion. The fact that Scully was probably out on her date right now entered his mind at regular intervals, and he pushed it away, wanting to give her space to have an actual life outside of him and The X Files. Regardless of his feelings for her, above all else he wanted her to be happy, even if it was with someone else. The thought of having to meet some guy she was dating and act like he didn’t want to rip his face off made his stomach turn.
He parked in a 15 minute space just outside the restaurant and headed into the lobby. It was a busy Saturday night crowd, noisy and boisterous with various sporting events playing on several TVs and people shouting over each other to be heard. He placed his order, to go, with the hostess and then leaned against the wall to survey the scene while he waited. It was hard to say what made him feel worse, the families with children dragging french fries through lakes of ketchup, or the couples with their heads titled close together in intimate conversation, oblivious to anyone and anything but each other. His solo status was always painfully obvious in a setting like this. Most of the time it didn’t bother him, but today, knowing Scully was somewhere with someone else, it felt like shit.
And then he heard a laugh ring out like a bell. It was a sound he knew in his bones. One that, while infrequent, was a balm on his soul. Well, usually it was, anyway. But when he turned toward the sound and saw Scully, one hand to her chest while the other lay flat against the table top for stability, leaning toward the recipient of this sweet sound with her teeth bared in a joyful grin, his heart sank. She looked completely incredible, her hair mostly pulled back with a few strands loose around her face, a blue v-neck sweater clinging to her tiny frame and showing just a hint of cleavage. She was leaning in closer to a man whose back was to Mulder, removing the hand from her chest and placing it on his arm as she practically fell over in hysterics. He had never seen her like this, and envy twisted in his rib cage. Who the fuck was this guy that could make Scully laugh like that? He forced himself to look away, to stare at the gaudy rainbow checkerboard tiles on the floor. He checked his watch to calculate how much longer it might be before his food was ready and he could get the fuck out of here. Mercifully, the sound of her laughter subsided and he willed himself not to look that way again; he didn’t want to see something he’d never be able to erase from his memory.
He was doing such a good job pretending she wasn’t there that he was genuinely startled when he felt her cool hand thread around his elbow, linking his arm in hers. He looked to her and saw that her eyes were glassy and a little bit red. She was drunk.
“Come here often?” She drawled, her smile and the weight of her body leaning against him sending a wave of electricity down his torso.
“I might ask you the same” he countered, working very hard to seem casual, though he probably didn’t need to, given her state.
“Come sit with me.” She ordered. The contrast between her behavior at work yesterday and the open, seeking way her eyes roamed his face now was jarring. He was so confused by her signals.
“Nah, I don’t want to intrude. You’re out with your friend.” He couldn’t bring himself to say “date.”
She waved her hand in the air, brushing away the concern. “It’s fine, Mulder, he wants to meet you, come say hi.”
So she’d talked to her date about him? He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, flattered, or weirded out. He turned to tell the hostess where he’d be before allowing her to pull him by the arm over to her table. As they approached, a second man sat down at the table, appearing to have just returned from the bathroom.
“Guys, this is Mulder!” She said with a level of excitement that seemed, to him, to be unnecessary.
“Mulder!” They both repeated as though they were reunited with an old friend. One was tall and blonde with an athletic build, the exact kind of guy he’d expect Scully to be interested in. The other was shorter and lean with a bald head and calloused hands. After an awkward beat where he looked at her expectantly, Scully remembered her manners and began introductions.
“Mulder, this is Rob, he and I were good friends in undergrad” she motioned towards the tall blonde man, and then to the shorter, bald one. “ This is his husband, Michael.”
A grin spread across Mulder’s face as he understood that this was most definitely not a date. He stuck out his hand and shook both theirs enthusiastically, agreeing to Scully’s insistence that he sit down as she stole another chair from a nearby table.
“I have to pee” Scully announced suddenly, leaving the table. Mulder looked after her in amused surprise at her lack of decorum. This was a side of his partner he had not had the pleasure of seeing yet.
Mulder stood to remove his coat, noticing Rob discreetly flick his eyes over his body as he did so. He always appreciated being checked out, even if it wasn’t from his target audience. As he sat back down, Michael spoke.
“It’s nice to meet you Mulder. Dana has told us so much about you.”
Mulder smirked self-consciously. “Nothing bad I hope.”
“Nothing that we can’t see with our own eyes” Rob remarked, giving him another once-over with an appreciative nod of his head. Michael jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
“Sounds like you do a lot of interesting work together” Michael offered, distracting from Rob’s remark.
“Uh, yeah, something like that” he responded cooly, seeing the hostess approaching with his order.
Scully returned from the bathroom and plopped down beside him dramatically, putting her hand on his thigh. He eyed her skeptically, but didn’t move it.
“I gotta go, I’m parked in a 15 minute spot. It was good to meet you both. You’ll make sure this one gets home okay?”
“Of course” Michael answered, sliding his arm around his husband’s shoulders. “Rob is a drunk Dana whisperer, from the stories I’ve heard.”
“No one wants to hear those stories” Scully warned, draining her glass. “Anyway, I’m going with you, Mulder.”
Mulder looked at her quizzically “oh are you?”
She gave him a coy smile and nodded, her eyes bleary from the booze.
“How about I take you home instead, party girl.” He stood and put his jacket back on.
Scully shrugged, accepting this alternative, and hugged her friends goodbye. Rob held on to her a little longer than Michael, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle before she told him she’d call him tomorrow. They left the restaurant arm in arm, and when they reached his car outside he opened the door for her to climb in first.
“So chivalrous” she mused, beaming at him.
He shook his head and laughed at her condition. In the moment, she was the antithesis of everything he knew her to be. The Scully he knew would roll her eyes and pity this blatant show of flirtation. Throughout the 15 minute drive to her apartment, she continued to paw at him, sliding her hand up his thigh until he batted it away. He settled on holding her hand, which seemed to make her happy and distracted her from more nefarious contact. When he pulled up outside her building, he expected her to get out and go inside, but instead she turned to him and asked “aren’t you going to walk me to my door?” It seemed to be asked in earnest, absent any innuendo, so he agreed. She held on to his arm and leaned into his side as they made their way in, her footing unsteady in her heels. He took her keys and unlocked the door for her, his feet planted firmly in the hallway. He was intrigued by her behavior and he could admit that he was very turned on by it, but she was drunk, and there was no way in hell he was going to take advantage of that.
“Come inside” she suggested, pulling on his arm.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Scully. You get some rest, call me tomorrow and let me know you’re alive. I’ll bring you some coffee and a breakfast burrito.”
She pushed her lower lip out in a little pout and stepped toward him, sliding her arms up his and on to his shoulders. The height of her heels compensated quite a bit for their usual discrepancy so that she only had to stretch a tiny bit for them to be face to face.
“What cha doin, Scully?” He asked, his mind telling him that this was a bad idea, while his body urged him to proceed.
“Just giving you a hug. Is that allowed?” Her voice was sultry and smelled like whiskey.
“A hug. Sure, I guess that’s okay.” His hands found her waist. Just a hug. They’d hugged hundreds of times.
She slid her hands around his neck and pressed her cheek to his and the rest of her body followed, breast to chest, pelvis to pelvis, thigh to thigh. This was not their typical hug. She was draped over him, her breath hot on his ear. He was afraid if this went on much longer, she’d be able to feel how much he wanted her. She pulled her head back, keeping the rest of her tucked against him, and looked at his face. God, she looked beautiful, if not a bit out of it. He willed himself to pull away, but he couldn’t, not yet. She leaned in and brushed her lips across his. Electric. His body tensed, knowing it couldn’t go on. Next she pressed her soft full pout against his lips, her fingers digging into his hair. He sighed, and then pulled away, stepping back from her, breaking contact.
She looked at him with a mix of embarrassment and confusion. Not wanting to send the wrong signal, he took both her hands in his. “You’re drunk, Scully. It’s not right. I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret tomorrow.”
She held his gaze, her eyes watery and tired. “I won’t regret it, Mulder.”
“Well if that’s the case, kiss me sometime when you’re sober and I promise I won’t turn you down.” He was smiling at her, captivated by this moment where he felt like he could say anything, where they could be completely honest for once.
“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Mulder?” There was sadness in her voice. Regret.
He took a breath before responding. “I guess…I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
“I do. I want you to.” He was afraid that he was about to find out she was a tearful drunk.
“Okay, I promise that I will. Soon.”
She nodded solemnly, and he pulled her into a hug, a real one, with her cheek squished against his shoulder and her hair tickling his nose. Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he stepped back and looked at her, asking “are you going to remember this conversation tomorrow?”
She blinked slowly, her eyes working to focus on his face. “I think maybe not.”
He laughed, stepping through into her apartment and leading her to her bedroom, where he waited outside the door as she changed into pajamas. Once she was tucked safely in bed with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol within arms reach, he went out to the kitchen and got a piece of paper to leave her a note. By the time he returned to leave it next to the glass of water, she was already asleep.
***********************************
Scully woke in the morning to find her mouth dry and sticky. As she sat up, her head lurched and squeezed her brain in protest. She looked around, unsure how she got here. The last thing she remembered was spotting Mulder at the restaurant, and then….nothing. Turning to check the time, she was relieved to see a glass of water and she chugged it down, stopping halfway to take two of the Tylenol; she must have put them there before she went to sleep. As she turned to drape her legs over the side of the bed and prepare to stand, she spotted a slip of paper on her nightstand and unfolded it.
Hey Party Girl,
I’m willing to bed you have a mean hangover. Whether you remember it or not, I did promise you a breakfast burrito. Call me when you’re awake.
Mulder
Her eyes went big. Mulder was here? She felt strange not being able to remember it, and hoped she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. First she dragged herself to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then took a shower, pulling last night’s mascara from her eyelashes. As she stepped out, already feeling a little better, the phone rang.
“Hello?” She cringed at the volume of her own voice.
“Hey pretty lady, you make it home okay?” It was Rob.
“Apparently so, though I don’t remember much of anything. What happened after Mulder showed up?”
Rob chuckled softly and her stomach turned. What had she done? There was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line and she could hear Michael say “stop torturing her!” Before he wrangled the phone away from Rob.
“It wasn’t that bad, Dana, Rob is just being a jerk. You got a little handsy with him then told him to take you home. We could tell he wasn’t going to take advantage of you.”
“Uh, what do you mean by handsy, exactly?” She was starting to feel nauseous.
“I think you had your hand on his thigh and you were making some serious bedroom eyes at him, but that’s it, at least at the restaurant. I can’t speak to what happened after you left.”
“Oh god” she whispered.
There was more scuffling and then Rob was back on the line “Look, honey, it’s clear that you both want to be with each other so I don’t see the issue. Just get over yourself and fuck him already.”
“Right, thanks Rob, that’s really helpful.” She rubbed her free hand over her throbbing temples.
“It was good to see you, Dana. We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, it may be a while before I can stomach alcohol, Rob.”
“You know my number. Bye.”
He hung up and she replaced the phone on the receiver, dropping her head into her hands with a groan. Dragging herself to her bedroom, she put on sweats and a t shirt, brushed her hair, and then flopped down on to the couch, already predicting it would be a wasted day. She was too old for this. When she heard Mulder’s familiar tap tap on the door, she considered staying very quiet until he went away, pretending not to be home.
“Scully, I know you’re home, your car is outside.” She heard him call out. Fuck.
Fluffing her hair a bit as she walked to the door so she wouldn’t look like a drowned rat, she opened it and found him looking adorable in jeans and a blue sweater, a paper bag in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. Her eyes went big at the idea of food and she realized she was starving.
“Well it’s clear the burrito is welcome, do I also have permission to enter the premises?”
He was grinning at her in a way she found both endearing and infuriating. She hated not knowing what had happened. Taking the bag and cup from his hands, she turned and walked to the couch, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to follow.
“Thanks” she muttered, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it on the table and unwrapping the burrito.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Like I drank way too much” she returned without looking at him.
He nodded knowingly. “Do you remember…everything?”
She shot him a wide-eyed look. “What is there to remember?”
He shrugged “nothing, just wondering.”
“Look, Mulder, I don’t really remember anything after you showed up at the restaurant and if I did something embarrassing I’d rather you just tell me now instead of dragging this out. So what did I do?”
He shook his head nonchalantly. “Nothing, Scully. You were very pleasant, actually.” He smiled at her and she knew there was more to it, but he was taking the path of allowing her to remain blissfully ignorant, and she was thankful for it.
He turned on the TV and they sat quietly and watched the news while she ate and drank, slowly feeling more human as the minutes passed. He saw her check the time and took that as his cue to leave, and she walked him to the door.
“Thanks, Mulder, both for getting me home safe and for breakfast.”
“Anytime. You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
She gave him a rueful look while shaking her head slowly.
“Well, in the event that anything does come back to you, I want you to know that I intend to keep my promise.”
“That really means nothing to me Mulder, but thanks I guess?”
He chuckled a little, then turned and left her to nurse her hangover in peace.
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Text
clandestine (chapter 2)
PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.
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chapter 2: portrait of a dinner
A/N:  the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! i would love to know how you guys feel about the story. feedback is always appreciated.
warnings: drinking, smoking, cursing
word count: 1.6k
important: the whole chapter is a flashback, character thoughts are in bold italics
masterlist   series masterlist   chapter 1   chapter 3
“I rent a place on Cornelia street”, Tom said casually in the car. They were sitting in the backseat of a black town car, going for their shoot. Y/N had suggested that they travel together, in an attempt to get to know each other better. She said, “It would help with the on screen chemistry”, the whole production team agreed. But that did not become a norm for them, mostly because of their different call times.
Both of them had hectic filming schedules and only saw each other when they had scenes together. Sometimes they would bump into each other at the craft service, but otherwise, they were on their own.
During the last few weeks of filming, Tom had started getting her coffee. He had noticed how she took her coffee during the shooting. Black with one sugar.
“There you go”, Tom handed her the coffee. “Thanks Tom.” He gave her a smile. She was walking towards the door, and Tom started following her behind.
“I’m going to hair and makeup, do you wanna tag along?” she asked him.
“Sure, I have a 15 minute break anyway”
“Have you seen Hot Rod? I watched it last night” she didn’t know why she asked that silly question. She found it embarrassing.
“That Andy Samberg movie, right?” Tom nodded, “Yeah I watched it a long time ago, it’s a classic”
“I totally watched it for Bill Hader” She found herself easing up to him.
“Valid reason. Loved him on SNL. Do you know Stefon? from SNL?” She reached for the door handle, a gush of cold air was felt by both of them.
“Don’t even get me started on Stefon. I used to watch Stefon compilations on YouTube all the time. It became a problem” she chuckled, remembering how Haz used to get pissed off whenever she’d talk in a ‘Stefon’ tone.
Oh, I love it when she chuckles like that. I wish I could kiss her. NO. She is fucking married, Tom.
“Yes yes yes, New York’s hottest club is…” Tom tried to imitate Bill Hader as Stefon. He looked around a bit and pointed towards the paparazzi, who were trying to take pictures of anything worth money. “New York’s hottest club is paparazzi” he continued.
“If paparazzi is the hottest club, then I’m fine staying at home” Y/N was laughing so hard that she couldn’t breathe. She clutched Tom’s arm to avoid falling down while trying to contain her laughter. She hadn’t had a good laugh with Haz in a long time.
--
Tom found himself at Y/N’s doorsteps with cheap wine he bought from the convenience store last minute. Y/N had invited Tom and his partner for dinner during the last week of shooting.
“Oh, I’m not seeing anyone actually, but my lonely heart and I will be there”, Tom replied to Y/N’s invitation.
He rang the bell and waited for someone to open the door. Tom was met by Haz’ charming smile, as he opened the door. Tom could see right through his fake smile. Clueless to Y/N and Haz’ fight prior, he entered the two story building.
“Why did you invite him without asking me?” Haz screamed, slamming the plates on the table.
“I didn’t think you’d be home tonight, you never are” Y/N replied in the same tone as Haz
“So you were going to have dinner with him, alone?”
“Yes” she said in a crude way.
“Are you fucking him?” Just as Haz asked her, the doorbell rang.
It would be better fucking him than fucking you. At least he’ll be home.
Y/N entered the kitchen leaving Haz to open the door. “You must be Tom” said Haz, in his most likeable voice.
“Yeah and you must be Haz. I got this for you guys”, Tom handed him the wine bottle.
He’s a bloody hotshot and brought us cheap wine.
“Hey Tom, I’m so glad you could make it”, Y/N said, taking Tom in for a hug. She could feel Haz burning a hole behind her head with his gaze.
She pulled out of the hug, “do you want red or white wine?”
“Red”, Harrison and Tom said in unison. Y/N let out a little chuckle and went into the kitchen. Tom started noticing the little things in their house, like how there were film and Polaroid cameras scattered everywhere. There was a vinyl shelf right above an old golden gramophone, adjacent to their brown leather couch.
He noticed a collage of pictures and recognised some of the photos from the time they were taken on set. There was one with him and Y/N. He felt a sense of pride knowing that their picture hung on Y/N’s wall and the possibility of her looking at it every day.
“So, what do you wanna hear?” Harrison was standing next to their vinyl collection. “Since Y/N lives here, we have everything Taylor Swift, I don’t suppose you’re into that pop shit, are you?”
“Actually I do like pop but more like alt-pop”
Harrison wasn’t surprised. He seemed like a ‘Beach House’ kinda guy anyway, to him.
“So you like alt-pop?” Y/N walked towards the boys with two glasses of red wine in her hands. “Have you heard of ‘peter cat recording co.’?” she asked Tom
“Yes I have! Oh, I thought nobody knew about them. I’m glad I found you”, Tom was filled with giddy excitement.
“PCRC it is, then”, Haz said in an annoyed tone. He grabbed the vinyl of ‘portrait of a time’, their first album, and placed it on the gramophone.
“Babe, where is your glass?” Haz asked Y/N.
“Oh I, shit I left it in the kitchen”
“No worries I’ll get it”, Haz kissed her cheek and left the living room.
Even though Y/N knew it was fake niceties, she still craved it. It felt nice, behaving like a normal couple instead of fighting over every damn thing, and him storming out of the house almost every night. Sometimes she felt that Harrison was a hypocrite. He would accuse her of cheating with every guy in her life, but wouldn’t be home nine out of ten times.
They were now seated on their wooden dining table, with dried flowers in the middle. Haz and Y/N were sitting opposite to Tom. There was Chinese takeout in their fancy china.
“Sorry about the take out, neither of us are good at cooking and we didn’t want you getting sick”, Y/N tried to justify the absence of a home cooked meal.
“It’s fine as long as I’m getting fed”, Tom chuckled.
“No actually all this food is only for Y/N and me”, Haz said, trying to sound serious.
That was a bad joke, all of them thought.
There was an awkward silence. Haz cleared his throat, “So Y/N, are you seeing someone?”
“Haz, you can’t just ask someone that!”
“It’s okay Y/N. No Haz, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” Tom said, blushing at the personal question.
“So you are single”, Haz said looking at Y/N, in an attempt to imply that she might be having an affair with him.
Trying to hide her annoyance, Y/N started serving the food. The rest of the dinner was normal. They talked about the movie and Haz did not spontaneously combust. In Y/N’s mind, it was near to a success. When Tom started to leave, Y/N offered to drop him to his apartment building, but he settled on walking him one block.
Y/N grabbed her jacket as they left the house. She pulled out a box of cigarettes from her pocket and offered Tom.
“Oh, I don’t smoke”
Y/N scuffed with a cigarette between her teeth.
“What kind of an English man are you?” she said, lighting her cigarette.
“Well you know it’s a common misconception, we don’t all smoke”
“That’s good to know”, she took a long drag.
“Also you might not like the wine I brought you. I realised pretty late that I should be getting you something because I was visiting your house for the first time, so I bought the best wine I could find in that convenience store”, he pointed towards the store a few metres away from them.
“Its fine, it’ll remind me of my youth”, they both laughed.
“I guess this is one block, you should go back home now”, Tom said while trying hail a cab by waving his right hand frantically, at the edge of the curb. He looked ridiculous.
“You clearly have never done this before” she laughed at him, turning Tom’s face red.
She stepped off the curb, to be seen clearly by the oncoming traffic, put out her arm and a cab was there in seconds.
“So I guess I’ll see you around” he said while pulling Y/N into a hug.
His touch made her hyper aware and same could be said for Tom. Y/N started to pull out but stopped half way. It felt like they were both looking inside each other’s soul through their eyes.
“Ay, lovebirds, you comin or not”, the cab driver screamed making them break away. He got in and Y/N closed the door for him. That’s when her phone pinged.
Haz: where are you, I’m going out.
56 notes · View notes
bffsoobin · 4 years
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Love Love
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↳beomgyu could be a tough puzzle to solve. You knew that. You knew everything about him. That’s what best friends are for, after all. But why is he so upset over your date with Taehyun?
➤ best friends to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst (jealousy) 
Requested?: yes
Word Count: 3,779
A/N: I attempted humor here, hopefully that translated? Also I hope the turning point is good enough shdksnoeun. I rewrote it a lot to try and fit what the request asked for. As always, heed the general warning that I haven’t proof read or edited this. Also I’m tagging the biggest Beomgyu stan I know, the lovely @star-daegyu as they requested!💕
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•
“What?” Beomgyu sounded scandalized as you shut the door to your locker. 
“You heard me! Don’t make me say it again,” you clutched at the chemistry textbook cradled in your arms. Beomgyu stared down at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen since Mr.Jackson showed a documentary about how climate change was fake. You started walking away but he came with you in perfect lockstep. 
“No, say it again. I’m trying to see if my neurons misfired or if you actually just told me that-” he gagged dramatically as the two of you rounded the corner into a different hallway. 
“Remind me again why I put up with you?” You grumbled cynically. 
“Remind me why you won’t repeat what you just told me at your locker?” Beomgyu wrapped his hands around the straps of his bookbag and stared at you indignantly. Your sneakers squeaked against the tile flooring of your classroom as you entered with Beomgyu in tow. The two of you were always the first students in class after your lunch period and today you had even beaten the teacher. Beomgyu looked around at the empty room and gestured around with his arms spread wide. 
“Last chance to tell me before this room starts filling up with our drama hungry classmates!” Before you had thought he was just teasing you to get a rise, but now you could sense an undercurrent of something odd. Jealousy? 
“Fine,” you grumbled halfheartedly. “Taehyun asked me out.” You knew that your skin was flushed red as a side effect of the confession. Beomgyu nodded tightly before taking a dramatic lap around the classroom. Once he was back by your side, he plopped down in his desk next to you. 
“And you said yes?” He had finally lowered his voice as a throng of classmates filtered through the door. Your heart beat kicked up a notch as you tried to pick apart his tone. You couldn’t help but feel an odd pang in your chest at the idea that he might be jealous that someone else got to you first. You dismissed that quickly; as there was no way you would let yourself fall back into that pining when Taehyun was right in front of you and willing to give you romantic attention. 
“Of course I said yes, you know I have a crush on him! Why are you being so weird about this?” you hissed underneath your breath as the room filled steadily with even more post-lunch chatter. Beomgyu’s lips were pulled in an unsettling straight line as he simply nodded at your words. A knot twisted up in your stomach at the thought of your bestfriend being angry over something he knew you were excited about. As your teacher began to talk, the only thing you could focus on was Beomgyu. He was sitting oddly still, carefully angling his body away from you so much that you couldn’t even attempt to read the expression on his face. Of course you were worried; but more than anything you were annoyed as hell. You were used to his dramatics and occasional fits, but this sudden change to childish behavior was totally new and frankly unwarranted. If it weren’t for Mrs. Nielsen’s strict note taking policy you would have put much more effort into telling Beomgyu off during the class period. 
The class period passed quickly although the cramp in your hand would surely stick around to be sure you wouldn’t forget about all of the chemistry notes you had taken. Beomgyu remained elusive as the two of you packed up and your pride kept you from asking him if he was okay. He made sure that you couldn’t catch a glimpse of more than just his clothed back as he slung his bookbag back on. Without a word, Beomgyu stood and breezed out of the classroom door. You left the room without him by your side for the first time since you became friends in the 8th grade. A pang of sadness shot through your heart at the realization that you must have done something to really upset him. What had you done to upset him so much that he wouldn’t even say goodbye to you? 
Beomgyu wasn’t in your next class with you, but it didn’t stop you from letting thoughts of him totally occupy your mind. It was a twisted type of torture, really, to try and pick apart any of the reasons he would have reacted so horribly to what you saw as a happy moment. You never wanted Beomgyu to be angry with you, and quite frankly you couldn’t even think of the last time the two of you had had a serious fight. Sure, there had been small quarrels over what movie to watch or who got a homework question right, but never anything like this. He’s friends with Taehyun. He was even the one to introduce the two of you at a bonfire over the summer. Was he worried that your new relationship would put a wedge between the two of you? Certainly you could conceptualize that he was worried about having to pick sides after a fight or breakup. 
In favor of actually processing some of what your math teacher was currently sprawling on the whiteboard, you decided that you had cracked the code of Beomgyu’s anger. You would confront him on the drive home as soon as the class ended. You would make things right.
As the final bell of the day rang, you rushed to the only working vending machine on the floor and bought a bag of Beomgyu’s favorite candy to use as a peace offering. As you waited in front of the library- as per your daily routine- your heart jumped in your throat at the thought that Beomgyu might not meet up with you. He could very easily charm his way into getting a ride from one of your many classmates just to avoid you some more. The thought brought you to the verge of tears. You couldn’t imagine your life without Beomgyu as your best friend and absolute rock. There was no way you could even deal with him being angry at you when you were ready to apologize. The lump in your throat only widened the longer you waited, shifting from foot to foot as students milled out of the building. You considered texting him but knowing how lazy he could be about answering had you abandoning the idea just as fast. 
Finally, you spotted Beomgyu as he breezed through a group of freshmen girls who gawked at him as he passed through. He looked a bit panicked as he approached you, eyes roaming all around the area until he finally spotted you and rushed over. 
“Y/N!” He sounded a bit out of breath, which surprised you. “I was worried you were going to leave without me.” 
“Of course not, Gyu. I was worried you would pawn someone else into driving you home. I really want to talk to you about earlier,” you paused for a second as the two of you began walking towards the exit. “I got you these, though,” you offered him the bright yellow bag and without even looking his way you could see the smile on his face. 
“Do we really have to talk about earlier?” Beomgyu asked through a mouthful of candy. You unlocked your car and threw your backpack into the back seat as he climbed into the passenger seat as if he owned it. Which you guessed he technically did. You fixed him with a glare you knew read as one of annoyance. “I’m over it, I promise,” he pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a way that would usually make you break. But not today. This was important. 
“Yes, we really have to talk about earlier,” you closed the driver’s side door and buckled up as Beomgyu reluctantly clicked his own seat belt into place. With the car in motion, you were grateful for having a valid reason you couldn’t look at him just to see more of his pouting expressions. The radio played a pop song you had heard dozens of times but you and Beomgyu sang along anyway. Admittedly, neither of you were too excited to breach the subject at hand so the distraction was more than welcome. The short ride from the school to your neighborhood was usually seen as a blessing, but not with the looming conversation you were suddenly faced with. 
“Okay. This is awkward. I’m gonna go,” Beomgyu chirped, leaning down to scoop up his bookbag from the floor of the car. As soon as his hand grasped the handle of the door, you pressed the lock button. He scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. Locking me in the car?” You expected him to be pouting, but instead he just looked tired. You huffed out a breath of air. 
“Yes, Gyu. I’m locking you in the car so that you can’t run away from me when I’m trying to be serious. I’m not mad at you for being angry earlier. I mean- I was- and then I thought about it and I figured out why you were so upset,” Beomgyu’s face morphed into something close to fear and he opened his mouth to speak. “You don’t want to be caught between Taehyun and I if we date and get in a fight or breakup. I didn’t really think about the fact that you’re also friends with him. I can’t imagine how awkward you must feel about it,” you continued despite his desire to talk. You swallowed hard. “But you need to understand that even though you might feel weird, I still really like him and while I love and value your opinion I’m still going to go out with him.” Beomgyu seemed a little stunned but he nodded anyway. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” he pushed his hair away from his forehead, “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve known Taehyun for a while but I’ve known you for even longer and the last thing I want to see is you falling apart because of anything he does.” Your mouth suddenly felt dry. 
“What do you mean? Is there something I should be worried about?” You had a feeling that Beomgyu had accidentally let part of his last sentence slip and was now trying to pick up the pieces. 
“No! No, Taehyun is great. He’s...he’s a good guy. I was just trying to say that,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “that I don’t know what I would do if you ever came to me hurt over a boy. Any boy. I just love you so much.”  He seemed oddly vulnerable even though he had told you that exact phrase so many times before. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your breath stuttered upon hearing him say it so emphatically. There was no way he could know the effect his words had on you. His softened eyes locked onto yours at the feeling of your hand on his shoulder.
“I love you too, Gyu. And I promise you won’t have to be dealing with anything like that. I can handle myself. Now please don’t be so awkward tomorrow. We have a lab and I’d rather not spend the whole period forcing you to speak to me.” Beomgyu’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he reached over to pinch your cheek between his fingers. 
“Stoppppp,” you whined loudly, pushing his hand away from you with all of your might. When he finally let go you cupped your cheek in feined upset. “I bought you candy and this is how you repay me?” The sound of the passenger car door unlocking prompted Beomgyu to open the door and hop out into his driveway. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for it.” He was bounding up the steps to his house before you could even come up with a witty response, but you drove away with a lightened heart. 
----
Your first date with Taehyun took place on a warm Saturday night. He took you stargazing in a field you didn’t even know existed and somehow came up with a playlist full of your favorite music. It was such a perfect night that you even dreamed of it when you crawled into bed later in the evening. 
The next day, you practically ran down the street to Beomgyu’s house to spill all of the details. You greeted his parents and easily bounded into the comfort of his bedroom like you had hundreds of times before. He was still sprawled out under his comforter, hair laying in a mess around him when you busted in. 
“You’ll never guess how well yesterday went!” you threw yourself next to him on the bed and bounced him slightly. He groaned and finally sat up. 
“Oh, that good, huh?” His voice was still heavy with sleep as he pushed a hand through his unruly hair. 
“Yes! He picked me up kind of late and I was worried he was going to take me to a movie, which is-” 
“The worst first date,” Beomgyu finished for you as he slid out from under his comforter and stretched his limbs.
“Right. But instead he took me to this field I didn’t even know was a thing around here, and he brought snacks and a blanket and we stargazed!” Beomgyu nodded along to your words as he shuffled toward his door. 
“I have to pee, I’ll be back and you can keep filling me in,” you pouted a bit at his interruption of your rambling but knew just how small and insistent his bladder could be. He had missed his fair share of plot twists in movies due to chugging his entire slushie during the previews. You watched him leave and mentally kicked yourself for fawning over the way a strand of his hair seemed to be stuck permanently straight upwards. It was time for you to focus on Taehyun, not Beomgyu. He was just your best friend. 
He returned promptly, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes in a way that made you coo at him. He cringed in return and plopped back down on his bed. “Continue telling me about Wonder Boy,” he droned. You frowned. 
“You seem like you don’t want to hear about it, Gyu. Are you okay?” He was quiet for a moment. 
“Just peachy,” despite the edge in his voice you continued, thinking maybe he was just grumpy this morning. 
“Somehow he made the perfect playlist. I’m talking all of my favorite songs. It totally surprised me. We never even talked about music. I really want to know how he knew it all,” you sighed dramatically and missed the way Beomgyu rolled his eyes. After a few more seconds of silence, you felt the need to talk again. 
“Are you sure you’re alright? I feel like you’re mad about...something,” you couldn’t quite place it but you knew that something was off with him. 
“I’m sure. Just hungry.” He offered as he stood and headed for his door once again. Out of instinct you followed him to his kitchen and downed a bowl of cinnamon cereal in a comfortable quiet. 
“We should watch some movies off of our list today,” you offered as you washed out your cereal bowls. Beomgyu gave you the first genuine smile of the morning as he agreed and rushed back to his room to turn on his television and retrieve the ever growing list from his desk drawer. When you met him in his room he was already cuddled up in his blankets with the movie queued. 
“Come on, slow poke!” You couldn’t hold back a giggle at how adorable he looked all nestled in like a newborn baby as you slid in right next to him and laid your head on his chest. The movie he had picked was entertaining enough, but certainly catered more to Beomgyu’s tastes than yours. For the sake of being the wonderful best friend you knew you were, you tried your best to focus on it. At some point you lost track of which character was which and gave up on actively following. 
Your phone vibrated three times in a row and you decided that since you were already lost, there would be no harm in seeing who was texting you. Your heart rate increased twofold as you read Taehyun’s name. Your thumbs hovered over the screen as you tried to figure out how to respond quickly. While there were no strict rules for your movie watching adventure, you knew that Beomgyu would get whiny quickly about phone usage. 
Unfortunately, your neurons weren’t firing fast enough for Beomgyu’s liking. 
“Y/N,” he whined, “Can you put your phone away? Who are you even texting?” You could feel him craning his neck to see your screen before noticeably freezing under you. 
“Of course,” he mumbled, darkness edging back into his tone. You sighed and sat up off of him and fixed him with what you hoped was a convincing glare. 
“Of course what? I’m sorry he texted me, but why are you so angry over him? There’s something you aren’t telling me. Just come out with it already! I thought we were past your pouting over Taehyun and I!” Beomgyu’s jaw tightened at your words. 
“No, Y/N. We’re not past it. I’m not over the fact that you’re doting over him when he didn’t even plan your date!” Your eyes widened in confusion. 
“Of course he planned the date. Don’t be ridiculous,” you waved him off, shaking your head in disbelief of how childish he was being. Beomgyu sat straight up and reached for his phone from his bedside stand. 
“Fine, look. Here’s the proof,” he shoved his phone into your hands, “He wanted to take you to a movie. I told him that was an awful idea,” you read along the messages as he spoke and saw that he was telling the truth. “And so I gave him the stargazing idea, because you once told me that would be your ideal date.” You knew he was right. You could recall the game of truth or dare where you told him that. 
“Beomgyu,” you breathed, “I told you that two years ago.” Your heart swelled with a sort of pride you didn’t know you were capable of. Beomgyu was unable to hold back the shy smile that cracked onto his face. He cleared his throat loudly. 
“And I had to tell him what snacks to get, and the music… that’s my playlist for you,” his voice was much more timid than you had ever heard it. “So I planned the date. I was so jealous that he asked you out, and even more so that you said yes. And then he texted me and had to get my advice and I felt even dumber. I’ve been dying to tell you the truth but you were so happy.” Beomgyu heaved a sigh and clenched his fists. “He took you on the date I’ve wanted to take you on since the day we met. And then you came here and you’ve spent all morning talking about how great it was,” he raked his fingers through his hair, “I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t been burning up inside since you told me you said yes to him.”
Beomgyu’s eyes were shaking just as much as his hands when you placed his phone back into them. 
“You’re unbelievable,” your words were slipping out before you had time to filter them, “I can’t believe you didn’t just tell me that you liked me. I’ve spent years trying to drown my feelings for you so that our friendship would stay intact and you’re telling me you’ve been in love with me?” 
Beomgyu choked on his own spit. “Wait, you have feelings for me too?” You stared at him with your mouth hanging wide open for a few seconds. 
“Well I-” you sputtered, “I’ve always kind of…” he raised an eyebrow at you, “Okay, yes! Yes I have feelings for you. I love you too. Love love,” you threw your hands up in defeat as Beomgyu started to laugh deeply. You gasped at him. 
“Why are you laughing? I just confessed to you and you’re laughing? You know what, I’m gonna go.” Both of you knew your words held no weight but Beomgyu grabbed you by the wrist to stop you anyway. 
“Nope, too late,” he pulled your body back towards his until you were sitting cross legged right next to him. “I’m laughing,” he began as he laced his fingers with yours, “because it's so stupidly like us to take five years and a third party to get us to confess our feelings.” You knew he was right. The absurdity of the situation just felt like another chapter in your book of blissfully clueless friendship. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asked sweetly. 
“Did you brush your teeth?” You were half teasing and half serious, “I’m not remembering our first kiss as the time you forgot to brush.” Beomgyu pinched your side in retaliation until you surrendered. 
“Of course I brushed, Y/N. I’m not a heathen,” you could tell by his tone that he was bordering on being actually offended. “Now can I please kiss you?” You hummed thoughtfully and inched your face closer to his. 
“Since you asked so nicely.” His mouth descended on yours and you discovered that yes, he actually did brush his teeth. The thought made you smile as the two of you pressed your lips impossibly closer until they were red and swollen. You felt a little dazed at the idea that you had just kissed Choi Beomgyu, best friend and secret crush of five years. He leaned in again and you closed your eyes, thinking he was going in for another kiss. Instead you felt a rush of warm air against your skin as he laughed. 
“You’re already ready for our second kiss?” He teased as you finally opened your eyes. “I was just reaching behind you for your phone,” he waved the object in front of your face. “We have to come up with a text to let Taehyun down easy.” The sparkle in his eyes told you he was getting way too much entertainment out of the idea. 
“You’re the worst, Beomgyu,” you crossed your arms across your chest in defense. 
“But you love me,” he said in a singsong voice, “love love.”
927 notes · View notes
justasparkwritings · 3 years
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Perpetual Bliss
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Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Little Angst, Bashful & Timid KSJ
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2.1K
Warning: Light Swearing 
Summary: Seokjin and you have been seeing each other for a few weeks, but neither have you have crossed the line from casually dating to lust and desire... will tonight finally be that night?
Listening: This Kiss by Faith Hill
Notes: This is for @ksmutclub​‘s Summer of Kiss event! 
Tag: @jinpanman
Beta: @sugasbabiie​ of course
           Lightning streaking across the sky.  
           The bubbles in fresh champagne.
           A perfect scoop of ice cream.
           Tingles down your spine.
           Subliminal.
          Driving on a summer day, music blasting, hair moving in the wind.
           Butterflies over a first love.
           A stolen glance.
           Blush creeping over cheeks and ears, burning down your neck.
           Plush pout, gentle lick of a bottom lip, nerves shaking as hands reach and hold.
          A pivotal moment.
          Ahhh.
          Bliss.
          The first kiss.
          Seokjin isn’t one to lean in on the first date, to invade the space of his companions, asking to cross the line between friendly interactions and lust—which is why he didn’t kiss you on your first date. Or second. Or, third.
          In fact, Seokjin has worked himself up in such a tizzy that he isn’t quite sure he remembers how to kiss anyone, let alone how to make the first move.
          “Jin?” You call, staring up into his clouded eyes.
          “Yes?” He answers, eyes coming back into focus, glancing past his lashes to stare at you. You’re beautiful, he thinks, sexy and charming, and so funny.
          Do you know you are hilarious? That when he goes home after every date to relay the jokes you told, he can’t ever get them out because he’s laughing too hard? Which inevitably leaves Yoongi annoyed that he ever decided to ask, “hey, how was the date?” Do you know that he’s crazy about you, that in between rehearsals and practices, he’s counting down the minutes until he sees you again? That when he falls asleep, he’s wondering when he can ask you to spend the night, or stay at yours, so he can hold you, wake up to you, maybe even love you?
          “I was just saying that I don’t really want you to go,” You repeat.
          You’ve propped yourself up on his chest, chin resting against your hand, moving ever so slightly with each intake of Jin’s breath. Somewhere between the third act resolution and the credits, you’d started speaking to him, only to glance up at him and realize he wasn’t paying any attention to you at all. You can feel the rapid beating of his heart, not at all calm and steady as it was a few minutes ago. It is cute, really cute, watching his eyes go out of focus, his thoughts so deep he hadn’t heard the call of his name, not once or twice. But finally, eyes focusing, blinking quickly, lips pouting again, he’s returned to you.
          “I don’t want to go either,” He smiles, “I have to, though.”
          You sigh, fighting the urge to trace his cherry pout with your index finger.
          “I guess, work or something,” You roll your eyes. “Not like you need to pay bills or anything,”
          “I suppose I don’t, but I can’t miss practice,”
          “I mean, you could,”
          Seokjin scoffs, “Ya - you want me to call in sick?”
          “Would it really be that noticeable?”
          “I’m one of seven, of course they’d notice, and I need all the practice I can get,” Jin uses his index finger to bop your nose, the immediate scrunch eliciting a giggle from him. “You’re so cute.”
          You glare, the finger you’d so desperately wanted to use to trace his lips, repeating his actions on his nose. “Anyway, you’re a great dancer.”
          “I work really hard to be okay at it,”
          “You’re great, better than okay,”
          His heartbeat, which has evened itself out, picks up at your praise, and the wiggle of your hips repositioning yourself against him.
          “If you say so,” Jin’s ears are burning, hot to the touch, and he can’t stop himself from glancing from your eyes, kind and soulful, to your lips. He notices the subtle poke of your tongue, wetting your bottom lip before your teeth rake over it. He’s watched you do this before, often taking your bottom lip between your teeth to gnaw at the flaking flesh, but never this close, never when his lust for you has reached monumental heights.  
          “When will I see you again?” You whisper.
          Again, your voice pulls his focus back to your eyes, staring again, expectantly, hoping he’ll say soon, bracing for the potential that he’ll have to disappear for work for a week or two.  
          “Day after tomorrow?”
          “Yes,” You nod.
          “It’s a date,” Jin pulls you closer to him, holding onto you, a gentle kiss on your head. You exhale, breath fanning his neck, nose nudging the column of his throat. It’s safe here, cozy and welcoming, the giddiness in your heart echoing in the beating of butterfly wings in your abdomen. Seokjin’s hands, resting on your lower back, dangerously close to tickling you, are steady and calm.
          “Your heart’s beating so fast,” You comment, lips coming in contact with the skin of his neck.
          “Ya, of course it is; it always is when I’m with you. You’re acting like I’m so cool and collected all the time, I’m a mess,”
          “You’re not a mess!”
          “Ayesh, my ears are going to burn off my head. You’re cool and collected! So unphased. I can barely get a sentence out without stammering. You make me so nervous all the time. And then you just laugh at me!” Seokjin argues. You love when he gets worked up, his words hurdling past his angered pucker, not stumbling but gracefully gaining speed, one after the other until he’s not only red from embarrassment but red from fury.
          You sit up, laughing while he tsk-tsk-tsks.
          “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I keep laughing. What you’re saying is valid; it’s how you’re saying it that has me laughing,” You explain, laughter diminishing as his embarrassment ceases.  
          “Seokjin’s pain is just so funny,” He mocks, “trying to be cute and vulnerable, and this is what I get!”
          “Here,” You take his hand, placing it gently above your heart. “Can you feel mine?” Your body stills, heart racing matching the pace of his, too quick, too unsteady, the warmth of his hand making the rhythm pick up speed.
          “Hm,” He answers.
          “Not just you, but my heart too.”
          For what he can estimate is the hundredth time, his eyes linger on your lips, lowering to the placement of his hand before he takes it away.
          “You should probably go; it’s getting late.”
          He follows your lead, standing too. “Yeah, yeah I should.”
          “Text me when you get home?” You ask.
          “Yes,”
          Seokjin hugs you, once again placing you in a position to listen to his heartbeat. The longer he holds you, the faster it beats. A kiss to your hair, and he’s gone—no traditional kiss goodnight, no lingering desire in his eyes. But if he isn’t mistaken, he saw yours: the slight disappointment, the gentle frown, the way you tucked your cheek between your incisors, gnawing as he walked away.
          Had he missed his opportunity?
          It isn’t until he gets home, tossing himself on his bed, shoes neatly tucked away, that he texts you. You respond immediately, and it’s your response that swells the lump in his throat.  
          Seokjin: Home sweet home
          You: Great! Also, I kind of thought you were going to kiss me…  
          Seokjin: I should’ve, I wanted to
          You: Why didn’t you?
          Seokjin: I was scared – what if I’m bad at it?
          You: Haha – I can’t imagine you are
          Seokjin: But… I could be
          You: I could be too
          Seokjin: I’ve wanted to, before tonight, I’ve just been so nervous
          You: I’ve wanted to, too… I think about it a lot
          Seokjin: Really?
          You: Yeah, I do
          Seokjin: Me too
          You: Well, then we better make it happen next time
          Seokjin: It’s a date
           Kissing you is all Seokjin can think about. Not just what it’ll mean for your relationship, but you.
          Kissing.
          You.
          How will your lips feel - will they be supple and soft? Chapped and rough? What sounds will you make? Will you hold his waist or tuck your hands into his shaggy hair? Will you be greedy or giving? Will your tongue move past his lips, drawing his out?
          But the one he cannot shake, cannot begin to comprehend: what will you taste like?  
           He’s tried not to venture down that path, the path of temptation, the path that moves from a kiss to kissing, to making out and hands slipping under clothes… clothes flying, sinful sounds… Seokjin has had to stop himself on more than one occasion. The temptation… the desire… it’s all too much when he hasn’t even kissed you once.
           As he tries to focus in rehearsals, brushing his teeth, playing games with Jungkook, all he can do is wonder: have you thought the same things, wondered what he’ll feel like, what he’ll taste like?
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           “Hey,” You greet, stepping into the car. You’re glimmering, Seokjin observes, glancing at your bright smile.
           “Hey,” Seokjin offers you a nervous smile in exchange, ears already a bright red.
           “Jin, are you nervous already?”
           He chuckles, “Aren’t you?”
           You set your hand on the center console, palm up, waiting, expecting him to place his in yours. He complies, letting your thumb caress the skin as you speak. “I mean, yeah, but we’re still, us right?”
           “Yes,” He hums.
           “So, let’s go see the movie, and get pizza when it’s over,”
           “What, and make out on your couch?” His nervous giggles betray his hidden desires. He really would like to make out with you on your couch.
           “Do you want to skip the movie and do that instead?” You question. He turns his key in the ignition, shutting off the motor, and sighs.
           “We’re good, you and me, right?” He asks.
           “Yes, I think so,”
           Seokjin takes your hand again. “Good, good, me too,”
           “You’re asking because?”
           “Because, at some point in the very near future, I’m going to kiss you for the first time, and I need to know that if it’s a terrible kiss, if I’ve forgotten how or my teeth hit yours or our foreheads bump, that we’ll still stand a chance,”
           “You want a guarantee that if our first kiss is trash, I’m not going to ghost you?” You clarify.
           “Yes,” He’s staring ahead at the empty street, wondering if being this vulnerable will result in you no longer finding him attractive or interesting. Though nothing could be more embarrassing than his outburst the other night. He’d been kicking himself over it; how was it possible that he could both embarrass himself fully and so openly share how quickly he is falling for you.
           You squeeze his hand, still in yours. “Jinnie,”
           “That’s a new nickname,”
           “Oppa,”
           “No, please, no,”  
           “Jinnie, how about this,” You tuck your leg underneath you, turning your entire body to face him. “Kiss me,”
           “What?” He yells, head whipping around to you.
           “Just a peck, nothing more,” You instruct.
           “Okay,” His eyes are still wide, caught off guard by your sudden directions. He takes in your posture, the nervous habits he’s picked up on the last month or two, how endearing when caused by him.
           “Meet me halfway,” You whisper, squeezing his hand once more.
           Seokjin unbuckles his seatbelt, turning to mimic your posture. He inhales, steadying himself before leaning in.
           “Wait,” You request.
           “Oh god,” He groans.
           “Shut up,” You laugh, your free hand pushing his hair behind his ear, slowly coming to rest on his cheek. Your thumb draws languid circles on the apple of his cheek, blush seeping into his honeyed flesh. His eyes, already a little blown, gazing longingly into yours. “I really like you.”
           His eyes soften more, head leaning into the palm of your hand. The butterflies blossoming in his abdomen, he’s so relieved you can’t feel his heartbeat. “I really like you, too.”
           It’s the confidence he needs, the security and safety of being in his car, with you, so close together, and admission of mutual affection, that inspires him. It pushes him over the edge, leaning in slowly, brushing his nose against yours in an Eskimo kiss, eyes drifting closed, lips finally, ceremoniously, meeting yours.
           Unsinkable.
           The bubbles in fresh champagne.
           Centrifugal motion.
           Tingles down your spine.
           Toes curling.
           Shooting star.
           Everything is in slow motion.
           Soft touch.
Heartbeat in your ears.
           Sweet and gentle.
           A pivotal moment.
          Ahhh.
          Perpetual Bliss.
           Seokjin pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. His breath fans your face—it’s gentle, calming, not so nervous or shaking as it was before.
           “Wow,” You whisper.
           “That was criminal,” Seokjin says.
           “Do you want to go to the movie?”
           “I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus, now that I know,” He answers.
           “Now that you know what?”
           “Now that I’ve had a taste, a feel, I don’t know if I can focus on anything but you,”
           You groan, loudly, before opening your car door and stepping out. Seokjin follows, moving quickly to slip his hand back into yours. He’s following closely, excitement bubbling in his chest. Because now, now, that he’s experienced just a taste of kissing you, going a minute more without your lips on his, is completely unthinkable.  
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I’m So Baked (says the pie)
A/N: So I’ve been paying more attention to Topazi (mentally) and I realize that I need more shenanigans between her and Klaus..so here we are.
Warnings: some suggestive material
Tag List:  @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs–are–bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley, @lokis-rock-n-roll-chick
“Klaus, what happened to your hand?!” Topazi asked, as her partner walked in, his hand held far away from his body, almost as if it had offended him greatly.
“I was trying to get inside of the house and the patio door shut on my hand. We need to get that fixed at some point.” he said, putting a generous amount of dish soap on his “Hello” hand before putting it under the tap.
“I’ll put it on my list to get to. Do you know when Allison and Claire are supposed to be coming over. I need to make sure I have time to get the flowers done beforehand. And I need to make sure there’s no extra snails in them, like I’ve let slide recently.” she added, getting her tools gathered on the floor of the living room.
“Uh, I think she said around regular dinnertime, 6-7ish.” Klaus replied, and Topazi let out a sigh of relief. That’s plenty of time to construct and reconstruct her design.
  It was a simple bouquet, really. Allison hadn’t asked for a specific type of flowers, but she wanted to get a specific message across. Maternal love and affection. Claire had been through quite a lot, and she wanted to be sure that her kid knew that she loved her very much. Material objects only do so much as well, so Allison planned to write a letter, and just generally try to spend more time with her kid, and be there for her more.
“That’s valid.” T remembered saying, as she picked a few cinquefoils, as well as a few carnations from her collection, looking back at her sketch.
  It reminded her in pieces of a sunflower, actually, how it looked. There wasn’t a darkness in the center, but she chose yellow cinquefoils, and yellow carnations, with regular greenery on the outside, so she’d need to change something up a little. She worked away for some time, and made multiples of the same bouquet, trying different combinations of the flowers.
  In the kitchen, Klaus was looking at a recipe book. He wanted to make Allison one of her favorite desserts, a key-lime pie. He was sure that there were limes somewhere in the house (or if the neighbors have some). There had been multiple occasions where he wished to make a specific dish and lacked a few ingredients. Topazi had mentioned, in passing, of her wishes of having a fruit orchard. That would help with the fruit issue, lest Klaus decide to become a full-time baker. It may not be a huge one, but she wanted to provide for herself. Plus, who doesn’t want to take care of plants?
“Now where is the microblade?” he asked himself as he rumbled through the cabinets, trying to make sure he didn’t let anything drop too loudly.
“I don’t even know if we have one.” Topazi replied, eyes focused on trying to properly tie a ribbon on one of her bouquets.
“Ah, here it is!” Klaus exclaimed, extracting the microblade from between the cheese grater and a plate.
   He finally went into the fridge after a few more minutes of glancing over the ingredient page, and withdrew a few limes from the bottom drawers. Soon enough, Klaus began working on the crust, and took some of his anger out (mostly at the sliding door) pounding the graham crackers to crumbs. A small part of him wanted to taste said crumbs, but then he remembered that it was for his sister, not him. (although her giving him a slice isn’t completely out of the question) He pressed the crumbs into the side of the pie plate, making sure to press from the bottom, going up. He put it in the oven, took note of the time, and got started on the filling.
“T, why do you like flowers so much?” Klaus asked, zesting a lime. He knew the obvious answer, “They’re pretty, and a lot of people like them.” However, he wanted to hear his partner talk, as the sound of the cicadas outside were beginning to annoy him.
“I like them because what’s not to like about them? In a sense. They’re pretty, and were historically used as a means to communicate, when people thought it rude and insensitive to discuss such things in public. Everything about them is made so carefully, down to how they look microscopically. Even though plants themselves aren’t sentient, they still live, and have their own systems to maintain, and how they work. If one was to extract a piece of DNA from a sunflower, specifically one that gives it its color, our perception would be completely different of it.” she stops for a moment to collect her thoughts.
“It’s also how people work, too. I like flowers because they’re easy to maintain, if you know what you’re doing, and don’t forget they exist, or run out of energy. And they’re so nice to look at. You’ve seen me stop in parks to just admire how flowers are placed in the mulch, or soil. They planters may have had the littlest idea of how I would view them, even down to what order they put them in, but they’re there. I find it so worth it to just pause for a moment, and to think, and indulge in the true meaning of something, even if it wasn’t meant to be. That’s why I like flowers. It’s completely fine to just see the surface when someone gets you flowers “Ah, they got me something pretty, and thought of me to give me this. It’s a meaningful gift.” But I want to pick apart every part of it. Because there’s so much more to so many things than what you see.” she responds, and jumps when she looks up to see Klaus leaning over the kitchen island, his face in his hands.
  His hands have small bits of pulp on them, and the “Kiss the Cook” apron that he wears has abstract juice drippage on it.
“I fuckin’ love you T.” Klaus whispers, and bends over to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, and he feels her smile into it. Her hands carefully come to wrap around his neck, making sure not to get any of the stem juice in his hair.
“Love you too.” she whispers back, pulling away “Your crust smells just a smidge burnt (pronounced buent), by the way.” she says, picking up her phone to refresh her memory of other flower requests. A small look of panic passes across his face before he pushes himself off of the counter, practically ripping the oven door off to check on his crust.
  It, fortunately enough, wasn’t too terribly damaged. It wasn’t too crisp, or burnt. He set it on the stove to rest for a moment, and he grabbed the yogurt from the fridge, and sweetened condensed milk from the pantry. He poured the juice, zest, yogurt, and sweetened condensed milk into a bowl, and whisked to combine.
“I never thought I would be so turned on by a man cooking, and the pie isn’t even for me.” T admitted, looking at the way Klaus’ arms flexed while he continued to mix the ingredients together.
“Oh, is that right. I’ll be cooking a lot more then, if your response is openly admitting your horniness to my non-conformity to gender roles.” he said casually, blowing a stray hair out of his face.
 Topazi looked up, and stared Klaus straight in the face, and put a finger up, opening her mouth, only to close it, and put her finger down.
“I’m not sharing my thoughts with a malewife like you.” she uttered, shaking her head in mock disgust.
“And this malewife puts it down every evening for you, willingly that is, and this is how I’m treated, ugh, the gumption.” he mutters, putting a hand to his chest, feigning disgust.
  Topazi and Klaus look at each other once more before breaking out in laughter, urging Minnie, who was sitting on the floor, to wake up from her nap. Klaus snorted, hand gripping the counter. Topazi had to put her head down to prevent any excess spittle from getting on her flowers. Once they caught their collective breaths, Klaus poured the filling into the crust, and put it into the oven to bake. He washed the dishes that he had, and dried the bowl, due to needing it for the topping.
“Okay, good, I just need to write these cards, then I’ll be done with this.” T said, grabbing them, and grabbed a permanent marker.
“These look really good T!” Klaus exclaimed, his eyes shining with glee.
“Thank you love.” she said, dragging a hand across her face. She stood up to stretch, and her back cracked loudly, mildly surprising her. She walked over to Klaus and wrapped her hands around his waist, her head resting on his back.
“Every time you put your arms around my waist like that, I swear I gain 10 more years of life.” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. She felt the vibrations of his speech on her face, and she took a deep breath before responding.
“I wonder what happens when I hug you then.” T said, walking away to put the flowers in their designated “T’s flowers, do not touch nor smell.” place in the fridge.
“I’m so smart, I know.” he retorted, pouring the heavy cream into a bowl, along with a few tablespoons of confectioners’ sugar. T jumped at the sound, and shook it off. 
  She had mentally took note of the time Klaus put the pie in, and took an oven mitt off of the hook, (patterned with tiny cookies on it) The top looked set enough, and she set it to rest on the counter. She turned the oven off, and watched as Klaus finished whipping the topping, holding it upside down to check if it was ready. It didn’t fall on his head, so he put plastic wrap over it, and looked outside for a short moment, looking up the tree in the front yard. 
  He took a breath, and thought for a second. Maybe a bit too long. His mind fluttered back to what it took for him to be where he was. How much it physically took out of him, his siblings, hell, even the timeline for him to be able to have a peaceful life (for the most part) and a loving partner. A tear slipped down his face, and he thought of how silent the ghost had been recently. He still had his powers, but the ghosts seemed to respect his current want for peace. And he loved that. He would float around the house if his feet were tired, and sometimes even do a side gig of being a medium if he felt inclined to. However, something about knowing that he couldn’t physically see Ben anymore, (his Ben, he thought, now with his newest collection of siblings, with a limited edition Sparrow Ben). He still even missed the cult, even with its downsides. He never got the right type of parental love, or familial love. At times, he doubted his siblings’ love for him, even though they’d made it pretty obvious that they’d be there for him, lest he need it.
  “Hey, Klaus, the- are you alright?” Topazi asks. She had been calling a few clients back from her home office, telling them that their bouquets had been completed. She got a random craving for cookies, and planned to go to the kitchen to make them, but she found Klaus in tears, hand covering his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed her there.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I was just thinking too much.” he explained, letting her wipe the tears from his face.
“You sure?” she asked, and he nodded before taking a deep breath, and releasing it. “I was just coming in here to A. make some cookies, and B. tell you that the pie is good and cooled, and it’s time for it to be topped.” she said, rubbing his back gently.
“Okay. Thank you T.” he responded, gathering the willpower to put the whipped cream on the pie, and adding small lime slices and spare zest on top. He smiled at the completed job, and put it in the fridge to finish chilling.
“Go take a nap darling. You’ve been on your feet for a while, and you look tired. I’ll let you know when Allison is here. Or at least 5 minutes before.” she whispered, kissing Klaus’ cheek. She looked at him for a moment more, and cupped his cheek with her hand. The light scruff that covered the bottom of his chin tickled her hand, and she had the urge to scratch her palm. She however, resisted said urge, and took her hand away. Klaus smiled at her once more, and trotted up the stairs, with Minnie in tow behind him. Topazi went back to the kitchen and gathered her ingredients. She spun some vinyl as background music, and got to work on her cookies.
  A couple hours pass, and Topazi is drying the last cookie sheet she used for her cookies, putting it back in its rightful spot. She stretched again, and checked her phone, seeing that Allison had texted her a few seconds go, saying that she was on the way, which gave her about 30 minutes to get Klaus awake. She headed up the stairs, and ended their bedroom, where Klaus was sprawled across the sheets Minnie resting on his pillow. T gently shook him awake with one hand, and giving chin scratches to Minnie with the other.
“Come on, it’s time to get up Klausie.” she mutters, watching as her partner came to slowly, more of his hair having escaped from its confinements.
“Hmmm, I’ll be more up in a bit. You smell good, hon.” he whispered, rubbing his eyes.
 The sun was shining in his face, and although it may have been mildly uncomfortable to wake up to, he looked absolutely stunning in it. His hair seemed to glow, and his skin, albeit a little pale, seemed to reflect every bit of sun that hit it. His eyes though, seemed to be pools of emerald and gold. Topazi admired him from afar, and she ignored the strong urge to climb into bed with him and bask in the sunlight together.
“You’re staring love.” Klaus says, leaning on his arm in bed, petting Minnie, who was beginning to wake up as well. She meowed gently, and purred at his touch.
“Oh, hush. Like you haven’t stared at me in the sun before.”
“.....You got me there.”
“Yeah, mhm.” Topazi said, jokingly side-eyeing Klaus.
“Come here mama.” Klaus teases, pulling T’s arm towards him. She falls into Klaus’ arms, her head resting right below his. He bends down and kisses her lips, breaking away, before Topazi reciprocates the gesture, taking a small handful of Klaus’ hair in her fingers. Klaus smiles, and chuckles, letting his mouth fall to her neck. He nuzzles into it, and they sit there for several minutes, before coming to a realization.
“Oh shit, I forgot that Allison and Claire are coming over.” T said. “I’ve got to get the cookies in the jar...and I need to fix the bed too.”
“Ah, calm down. It’s fine. She’s not going to come up here and see where we engage in sinful activities, is she? No. However, I would love to join you in the cookie jarring.” Klaus mutters, smiling at her.
“Fine, you can help. But so help me god if I find even a crumb on the freshly swept floor.” Topazi said, closing the bedroom door behind her.
  T worked quickly to get the cookies together, and Klaus took a very short shower, as he knew that it would help wake him up, and he could go back to bed without having to worry about showering again. The doorbell sounded, and Topazi almost slipped trying to get to the door. She checked herself in the mirror once more before letting her niece and sister in law into the house.
“Hey Allison! And little miss Claire.” Topazi said, giving the respective people their own hugs.
“How’ve you been T?” Allison asked as she was welcomed in, shoes taken off at the door. She was also carrying a dish of some sort, covered in Aluminum Foil.
“I’ve been good. The business has been going well, and I’m thinking of making an orchard.” T replies, leading them both to the living room. “Let me get that for you.”
“That’s good. Claire’s been begging me to let her go visit the shop, but it’s always been at a bad time. Oh, thank you! I brought dinner as a bit of a treat.”
“It’s much appreciated. I like seeing you both, and having you two visit would never be a hassle.” she replies, petting JJ, the other cat, who just so happened to be waiting for attention.
“IS THAT MY SISTER AND MY FAVORITE NIECE?” Klaus yelled from the top of the stairs, quickly running down them to give his sibling a hug.
“Uncle Klaus!” Claire exclaimed, giving said uncle a very big hug around his middle, only to be picked up.
“How’ve you been, Allison, smaller Allison?” he asked, setting his niece back on the couch before taking the place next to his partner.
“We’ve been good.” Allison says. “We’ve been doing really good.” 
  The four of them sit and converse for a while, and eventually dinnertime comes around, signaled by Klaus’ stomach growling loudly. Allison had brought a very large amount of lasagna, and Topazi immediately dug in, which shocked Klaus, but he’d bring the cause up at a later time. Claire did, however, get a pre-dinner cookie (Topazi’s request because “That’s how you teach kids that good things come to people who deserve them.”)
“So, I do so happen to have a bit of a surprise for the both of you.” Klaus says, standing up and opening the fridge.
“Ooh, what is it?” Allison asks excitedly, and Claire matches her mother’s expression.
  Klaus pulls out the pie, and T moves to gently give Claire her bouquet, asking her to hold it a specific way as to not jostle the flowers, or change the position of the ribbon.
“That’s so pretty, T! Oh my gosh, I need to ask you to make more things for me, I swear I’ll pay you in whatever you want.” Allison exclaims, looking at the bouquet, leaning forward to smell some of the flowers.
“Thank you! The meanings of the flowers, and ribbon placement are on the card. Also your brother made a whole pie...by himself......we need to eat it before he does.” she teases, sticking a pointed thumb back at her partner, who already had a knife out to cut said pie.
“Klaus, it’s my favorite! Thank you so much.” Allison says, taking another bite of the pie.
“This is really good Uncle Klaus.” Claire states, looking across the island at him.
“Why danke. It was made with love. Both the pie and the bouquet, actually.” he said, kissing T on the cheek. She smiled against him, and took a piece of the pie for herself, trying to resist eating the rest of the pie it all of its entirety.
  The night came to an end, and Allison and Claire said their respective goodbyes, and drove off. T and Klaus lay in bed that night, with a book and knitting needles in hand, respectively. Klaus feels a weight against his shoulder, and Topazi had fallen asleep, small breaths escaping her lips. He put a marker in her book, and took note of note of where he stopped in his stitches. It took him some more time to get to sleep that night, probably due to his earlier nap, but he got to sleep, so peacefully. Something he’d wished for many a day, and now it seemed that he was finally getting it answered.
Masterlist
Key Lime Pie
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lanshappycorner · 4 years
Text
About Art Reposting
I really hate posting anything remotely discourse-y in the main twst tag but this has annoyed me for a while so please read it.
@ all imagines blogs I do not care how good ur writing is if I see another one of you guys repost uncredited art in your hcs or x readers I will personally steal all of your bones
Images from Google and Pintrest are NOT sources either and almost every artwork is stolen (also pixiv IS a valid source but I feel the need to say that unlike twitter/instagram/tumblr/etc ppl on pixiv don't generally state "do not repost/reprint" but that doesnt give you the go to repost it anyways), stop stealing shit for your edits too you all suck
It's not even rocket science if u didnt draw it then don't post it, if I just copy and pasted your writing or whatever and posted it without stating that you wrote it how would you feel?? But like no one ever does that right?? Why is not ok to repost writing but it's ok to repost someones art that they spent hours on only for you to get notes on it bc you added it as what?? A little addition so ur post looks pretty???
I feel like to some extent it's ok to not know that what ur doing is wrong but it doesnt give you an excuse to keep reposting and ignoring everyone else when they correct you. People who reblog and like your work and don't call you out on your reposting are equally as guilty and I hope you guys all feel bad about it because you should. Also as far as I know, in the few instances when ppl repost artwork, twst fandom on tumblr has been pretty good with calling them out so why is it that this doesn't apply when someone is writing hcs and including reposted art?? Is it not reposting if you include extra content??? You can't pick and choose what you want to call out
Not to mention for artists that don't want their work reposted, tumblr is especially dangerous? Even if you edit your post and delete the image later, you can't stop ppl from reblogging the version with the artwork once they've already done it. It stays on their acc forever unless they delete it themselves, and at this point the artist has already lost control of their work and they can't do a thing about it. It's not like twitter where if someone retweets ur art, the moment u delete it, their retweet can't be loaded anymore. That's why even for me, although I hate some of my artwork, I'd rather keep it up than delete it because after I delete it I won't know if it gets anymore notes, and I lose all control over it.
Anyways if any of this sounds mean that's because I intended it to be, some of you guys don't use your brains at all, how you function on a daily basis idek. But even then, although this post was to dunk on art reposters more than it was to get them to stop, seriously I would like to say that if you are reposting, just stop. You don't have to apologize to anyone if you don't want to, you don't have to feel embarrassed about realizing that it was bad. Sure I yelled a fuck ton in this post but I want you to know that these things happen and at this point it's best to stop now rather than continue and be stubborn for no reason.
Fuck, even I reposted artwork for my fanfics when I was like 14, and I'm a huge advocate for not reposting art now, change is real and if you make the conscious effort to change then no one will insult you for it. I promise you that if your content is good people will view it regardless of the pretty artwork, and as surprising as it may be, a lot of people are more unlikely to view your writing if you include reposted artwork because you're literally a walking "I committed art theft" sign
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jatphantomsimagines · 4 years
Text
Before Us (2) | Luke Patterson
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Synopsis: In 1995, Sunset Curve was set to play The Orpheum. 25 years later they wake up in a whole new world and Luke finds somebody he once used to know.
Authors Note: I apologize ahead of time because this chapter is mainly filler, just gotta move the story along (and also show y’all Julie + Riley’s friendship)
PREVIOUS | NEXT
__/—–\__
All night long all Riley could think about was how quiet Julie had been at school after her crying session in the hallway. She was worried, so she decided upon waking up that she would head over to Julie’s house and walk with her to school. 
She had made it quickly, her thoughts clouded with the music that flooded through her headphones. They were old recordings she had found of her mom’s music, having moved them to her computer and changing them to a playable format. It was comfortable for her to be able to hear her mom, being able to sing along with her. Every so often there would be a duet, a boy's voice chiming in and singing along. 
Riley wasn’t sure who it was, not knowing much about her mom’s past besides what her dad had told her. This mystery man sang in Riley’s ears, her nerves calming and easing her anxieties about walking into Julie’s house unannounced. 
Walking up to the house, she could hear something coming from the backyard and she removed one of her headphones. Riley made her way down the stairs to Julie’s garage, heading over to the doors she could hear the familiar sound of piano chords being played and Julie’s voice ringing out through the open air. She echoed, energy seeming to buzz around Riley causing the hair on her arms to stand up. 
Tears came into her eyes and before she could stop herself she was running over and pushing the door open and looking Julie dead on. The girl continued singing, a smile lighting up her face and their gazes meeting. Julie finished singing and called the girl over, Riley joining the girl on the piano bench. The feeling was familiar, having been in this position so many times throughout their childhood. 
As Julie was about to speak up, both their attentions were brought over to the door where Flynn was storming in. 
“Carlos told me you’d be out here.” The two stared her down, waiting for her to continue. “The three of us need to talk.” 
“Are you okay?” Julie asked, Riley motioning for the girl to come closer to the piano, genuine worry flitting across her face. 
“No, I’m not okay Julie. You just got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was going to say. Might’ve drank seven sodas, but I need to get this out.” 
Riley couldn’t help but giggle, piping up quietly. “I thought that was how you spent most nights.” 
Flynn turned to look at the girl, rolling her eyes the same way Julie did when she was teased. Riley knew that the girls loved her antics, and even if they got annoyed sometimes they wouldn’t hesitate to be the first people to fight for her. 
“Look Julie, you can’t give up music. And Riley agrees.” Riley shook her head, looking very serious as Flynn motioned to her. “Your music is like a gift so that would be a tragedy. So, you’re basically cancelling Christmas, and I love Christmas.”
“May I add, I also love Christmas.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that comment, Flynn continuing on her rant without even batting an eyelash.
“When we were six we all promised to be in a band together. The Triple Threat.”
“I never agreed to that name.” Julie piped up. 
“Yeah well Riley did and that’s two versus one, anyways! Jules, if you leave the music program the three of us will be apart forever. That’s just what happens.” She joined the other two on the bench and Riley reached around Julie so she could rub Flynn’s back lightly. She knew that the other girl was over exaggerating but her worries were still valid and Riley wanted to ease them. 
“Sure we’ll see each other in the hall sometime, but we’ll have different lives, make new friends.”
“That’s not true. Can I please talk now?” Julie pleaded with the other girl and Flynn finally relented. “I just played the piano and sang again.”
A look of shook covered Flynn’s face and she laughed, looking between the two girls in disbelief. Riley nodded, still not quite believing it herself that her best friend was playing music again. 
“What? Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Well she would've had you not barged in and let your seven soda’s kick in.” Riley pointed out. 
“I’m so happy for you! And us!” She quickly grabbed Riley’s hand and squealed. “Look at you, looking all, I don’t know, alive again!”
“What made you play again?” Riley asked, bumping her shoulder gently about Julie’s. She was curious, wondering if Julie had managed to work through her grief during the night. 
“I found this song my mom wrote me.” She paused showing the two girls the song on the piano. Riley read it over and felt her heart clench. The song was all about moving on and moving forward, exactly what Julie needed right now. She hugged the girl tightly, still holding Flynn’s hand and giving it a squeeze. 
“I was so afraid to play it. Anything involving music reminds me of her. And then I woke up this morning, realizing that’s why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.” Flynn awed slightly and moved closer, wrapping herself around Julie’s other side and joining the group hug. Flynn gasped, pulling away quickly and speaking. 
“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison you can play so you can stay in school and our lives won’t be the awful pictures I just painted for you.” Riley laughed, standing up and dragging both girls with her. They made their way out of the garage together, Julie stopping to close the door behind herself. 
“Oh hey.” Julie speaking caused both Flynn and Riley to turn around and face the girl. Riley raised an eyebrow as Julie stared at the empty space next to her and Flynn coughed. She turned to look at the girls, realizing they were still there. “Let’s hustle.” 
And with that Julie was ushering the two girls off and on their way to school. The three of them huddled together laughing and talking about how they were going to convince Mrs. Harrison to let Julie stay in the music program. 
The easiest decision the three of them could come up with was to let Julie perform in front of her, hoping that Julie’s “killer voice and pure talent” would blow her away, Flynn’s words. Riley agreed, piping in that once Mrs. Harrison heard Julie again she would let her back into the program. 
Time seemed to pass by quickly as the three of them talked and talked, laughing away at each other’s stupid okes and making silly quips here and there. The energy around the three of them was comfortable, a relaxing presence that brought all of them some peace. 
“Do you think she’ll really let me back in?” Julie asked as the three girls walked up and into the school. 
“She has too, you’re too good to let go.” Riley answered. 
`
“Believe me, I think it’s wonderful that you sang again. I prayed for this moment for almost a year. But it’s too late.” Mrs. Harrison gave the girls an apologetic look and Riley felt her shoulders slump. There was no way it could end like this. She hadn’t even given Julie an actual chance to prove herself. 
“But what if you just hear her play, you know she’s amazing.” Riley pleaded. Mrs. Harrison shook her head. 
“It wouldn’t matter. A new student starts tomorrow. There’s only--” 
“So many spots.” Julie finished, knowing the line by now. “And if I don’t participate, I’m out. I know.” 
“I did everything I could to keep you here this year, but Principal Lessa was very clear that yesterday was your last chance. You’ll have to reapply next semester.” The bell rang as Mrs. Harrison finished explaining the situation to the girls and Riley couldn’t help but feel as if they had lost one of the most important battles of their lives. 
They had worked so hard, she had seen the progress Julie had made, had even heard her sing alone that morning. The sound of Julie finally letting go of all the pent up emotions she had been harboring and pouring them out into the best version of themselves. 
“I’m truly sorry.” She finished. Students began to file in for the next class and Riley led the girls out of the room, Flynn slinging her arm around Julie’s shoulders, trying to offer some comfort from the situation. 
The girls looked between each other and Riley sighed, the familiar action of her hands sliding into her pockets offering her some minor comfort. The jacket she wore belonged to her mother, something she had seen her wearing many times in photos of her own youth, and while Julie played music to stay connected to her mother, Riley went through her things and wore her clothes. 
“This sucks.” She kicked her toe into the ground, rubbing her shoe until a small sprout of pain surfaced. A frown stayed placed on her lips, Julie looking up at her and taking her hand in her own. 
“It’s going to be okay, I’ll get in next semester.”
“But you’re playing music now! You should be allowed to have the tools and training that we do, who cares if you needed some time.” Riley groaned and gripped her hair in hands. Julie ran over quickly, recognizing the action as a stress habit the other had developed after being in the car accident that killed her mother.  
“Riley, breathe.” Julie led the breaths, placing a hand on Riley’s diaphragm, just as her mother had done when the girl would have panic attacks at their home. After a few moments of breathing, Riley calmed down and the urge to pull at herself went away. 
“Thank you, mi cielo.”
-
Before Us Tags:
@vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @dpaccione​ @ashleyleblancx​
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sly-merlin · 4 years
Text
killing me - 8
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pairing : law student!reader + yuta
genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut
warnings of this chapter : cursing and mention of a knife.
words :: abt 7k
summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  
 or              
                      “  curiousity got the cat hitched”
taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​
@kafenetwork​​ @neowritingsnet​​
K.M masterlist
K.M 7   next
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Loneliness. The sentiment long forgotten was kindled again. you were so sure that you were just numb to it by now, had hoped that you won’t be affected by that ever again but the compass was directing to all the wrong sides. To experience what you first did 20 years ago was not something you were ready for but given a thought, it would never be.
This could be counted as your longest ride to the university. You felt sick to your stomach but there was no other place for you to go, no person either. It was in the heat of the moment, you realised that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You needed someone as a confidant. You closed your eyes, sitting in the bus, recalling everyone but came out blank. Not that you lacked reliable company but there was more than one valid ground to oust the thought of it.
With a head full of trouble, as you entered the university, wonwoo messaged you to meet up. For him, your class was still in progress so you decided to consider the offer.
You and wonwoo were friends or fwb to be precise, with a strong year history. However, that couldn’t eliminate the significance of the word friend. You could always rely on him, he himself had affirmed that occasionally, your trust in him being the foundation brick of the relationship. Maybe he could offer you the consolation you craved right now or maybe his embrace would make you forget it completely.
**************
You stumbled as a tap on the shoulder startled you, but it was only wonwoo.
“Finally! Don’t you miss me even a tiny bit!” he announced while hugging you tightly. “Let’s sit on the bench.”
He took off your bag, working on loosening the straps that were already annoying him.
“how many times do I have to tell you! Wear the bag on one side , don’t tighten them or better,just quit wearing these tops baby” he nagged , looking at you but your eyes were fixated on the trees ahead. the uncertain look on your bare face was making him a bit uneasy. In addition, you did not throw killer eyes at him for calling you baby. And you looked sober. Something was definitely off.
“What’s wrong y/n. you look tired. I mean you are a forever grandma but seriously! Tell me what’s bothering you?” hearing the sincerity in his voice, you faced him, his signature honest smile releasing the tension in your body.
Facing him properly, you put the bag behind you. He was still grinning stupidly. You briefly glanced at him, brain continuously yelling to fuck taeyong’s deal and just tell him everything. Nothing was holding you back now.
Before you could utter anything, the layer of leaves on wonwoo’s head drew your attention. You reached out to remove them, but he caught your hand midway. His hand covered yours entirely as he started placing little kisses on the inside, lips travelling from the palms to the fingers and there he stopped abruptly, a squeal left his mouth at the metal touch.
“A ring. Wow. So, the great y/n knows that the shoes aren’t the only thing available in shops!” he exclaimed, chuckling loudly.
You tried to pull your hand but he did not let go. He observed it closely with a frown settling upon the previous happy face. You yanked your hand again forcibly, this time he complied.
“I have something to tell you.” You mumbled softly.
“it’s a diamond y/n.” his statement took you off guard.
“I have something important to discuss woo.”
“ it’s a diamond ring y/n!” he repeated with a lot more emphasis, voice still polite. But you got exactly what he was hinting at.
“would you hear me out. Please!” instead of denying, you tried to negotiate.
“no. first answer me. From whom did you accept it? Yugyeom? Jungkook? Minnie?”
You were left stunned at his sudden accusatory tone.
“fucking do me a favour and shut up for a sec woo!” this time your words were laced with frustration.
“oh wow” he scoffed before continuing, “ what are you here for! To inform me that you have finally found someone to settle down!”
“what! No! Why are you dramatizing so much over a bloody ring! I need you to use your ears and not mouth! For once please.” Your anger got the best of you as you yelled at him. He stood up, shielding you from the sunrays.
“you can’t possibly explain anything! I just don’t wanna talk right now.” And with that he walked away before you could give him the justification he deserved.
********************
you woke up around 1 p.m. in the library, exactly same place where you decided to sleep away your troubles, like always. After stretching your arms, you activated the phone which has been switched off earlier. As you watched the screen coming alive, wonwoo’s conversation made way to your now empty head. You weren’t so sure anymore that he could be trusted with any restrictive information. If you expose him to all what has happened, you’d be doing more harm than good. Love makes one foolish. And you’d rather die by blocking yourself than have him face the outcome.
Did that mean you loved him?
no. you shook your head at the thought. Love is a strong feeling. Especially the one he had showed you all this time.
Yes. You did love him. A lot. Just not in the way he did. But at this rate, you couldn’t say you if you deserved his love.
Multiple beeps broke out your train of thoughts. You were sure everyone was finding the culprit of breach of silence in the library. So you duck yourself into the desk to hide.
7 calls from johnny. 2 from minjun. 4 messages from johnny.
You nibbled on your bottom lip, opening the messages.
Johnny : did you reach safely!
Johnny : hey, pick up the phone.
Johnny : for once
Johnny : nobody ignores the john don. Don’t break my streak and call me back. Today! Or else I’m coming home. Make sure the dinner is ready!!!!!!!!!!!
Simply rolling your eyes, you recklessly threw the phone back in the bag, walking for the international relations section to get some work done. The second best distraction in life – research.
***********
The day was a complete loss.You didn’t study, pretended half day that you were finding a topic in the library but ended up reading animal farm again. Now you were home and with god’s grace, yuta was not back yet. Tossing the bag on bed, you changed down to cotton shorts and a tank top, ready to make a sandwich to eat as a starter before attacking the icecream you got earlier.
Big T.V, sandwich, ice cream, itaewon class, everything sans yuta was worth living these days. So enjoy it while it lasts. You slouched more into the couches as gaho’s start over played, the melodious voice slowing fading your bitter day.
******************
Yuta was just ready to sleep when he came back home. The idea of three hour training session after a week gap was certainly a crazy one but he realised it only when the deed was done. Now he badly wanted to go into hibernation mode.
Crossing the hallway, he saw the t.v playing gangnam style but noone was there except a white comforter. Upon inspection, he found you sleeping peacefully on your stomach curled up into a ball. He made a few sounds of displeasure at your figure before turning the device off. He was about to leave when something else caught his eye. Green tea ice cream.
He picked up the sealed cup, it was not fully frozen but still chilled enough. Maybe due to the air con. But he was happy. Now he could eat or drink his favourite ice cream and blow a fuse simultaneously. Ofcourse yours! He placed an envelope on the table and went away with the ice cream while not putting the lights out, that too intentionally ofcourse.
*****************************
Tuesday
Awakened by the rooster, you found yourself in the same position as yesterday. The cramp in the neck was now past the pain stage. It was numb to the point that sleeping on other side won’t help either. Supporting the neck with your palm, you started collecting the mess you had made on the table. Remote , plates, empty ice cream cup, the plastic spoon.
Weren’t there two cups???
Or maybe you just slept too much.
You came back from the kitchen to discover an envelope. A dL enevelope specifically.
Nakamoto y/n
-nonghyup financial group.            
It was addressed to you! .But you didn’t receive anything of that sort the other day so that meant it definitely involved yuta. And it was from a bank. You didn’t even have an account in that bank.
Nakamoto y/n my ass. You muttered bitterly before opening it. There were some promotional coupons, a small guide on how to open an account. You scoffed at the unnecessary stuff that was giving away nothing. Then you saw it.
A MasterCard. With your name. new name!
You gave the package a once over before closing it again, putting it in the original position. You were fully capable to survive on your own, there was no need for taeyong or yuta’s mercy when it was essentially to fulfil their own feeble ego. It felt like a kick to your noble gut!
Ignoring it completely, you went to wash up hurriedly so you could get out of his hair before he could attempt to spoil your mood any further. When you came back, a very unfamiliar sight astounded you. A man with deep blue suit stood in the kitchen with his back to you and if it was not for his blonde hair, he could easily be mistook for some gentleman. Due to the light blending sound of the juicer, he had missed your incoming. As you passed the sink to get to fridge, dirty dishes caught your eyes that he still hadn’t washed. You were not going to put your hands in his mud and before he could order,you told him off.
“ clean after yourself before leaving or it’ll stink in here.” You quietly said as you washed the oranges for breakfast.
“whaattt?” he asked like you were speaking some gibberish.
“I said clean these dirty dishes”
“Says who!” he raised a brow at you. “the one who was sleeping in the trash herself!”
“what trash? Oh! That was just a plate. And worry about yourself, I know how to wash mine!” you replied continuing the peeling.
“huh! Don’t boss me around. あなたは私の母ではありません!” before you could ask him what he muttered, he threw something on the pile. You slightly winced at the clatter but didn’t turn around and let him leave.
You examined the mess. The noise producer was a glass. The juicer was also filled with vegetable residues. One could only hope that he would take up your suggestion or you would be banning yourself from the kitchen, for ever!
You were peeling the second orange when he came out of his room and rushed out like his tail was on fire. A frustrated sigh left you as you took in the state he left the kitchen in but you were not going to be his maid. If he wanna eat, he could do it himself.
After breakfast, you did some finals revision which were approaching in three weeks but not like you were not prepared. All the papers were submitted, just the thesis topic submission was left which everyone else was already done with. Even jungkook. But you were instead going to use the day to make up with chelin.
******************
The day went as fine as it could. Chelin agreed to go shopping with you but it took more than just a takeout to sincerely apologise this time. She denied you half day, making you race for her forgiveness but eventually gave in at the end, with terms and conditions of course.  
You studied till late night but didn’t hear yuta returning. But the next morning you knew that he didn’t arrive at all. And in exasperation and for your own well being, you cleaned the sink to remove the stench. As much as you wanted to call taeyong, he won’t be helping you in anyway, that you were sure about. He pretended to take your side but at the end he was always yuta’s brother. And you were just a nobody.
*******************
Wednesday 3:43
 Johnny: where are you? Answer me asap.
  You : I’m studying. Don’t disturb me!
Johnny: sure. Don’t show me tantrums and come out. i’m waiting
You : waeyoo??
You groaned at the message. Avoiding him was no more an option!
You : where are you? I’m already on the pavement.
You looked around for a tall figure but he was nowhere to be seen.
“you are alive!” johnny jested, turning you with your shoulders to face him. He was clad in off white button down and white pants, making your worn out self feel like a beggar.
“you tracked me again?”
“woahh! You hit my generosity with a shit face! Expected better from you.”
“ did. You. track. Me .johnny!”
“you started it by not replying. I was worried!” he defended himself a bit comically.
“I swear I’m going to drown this bracelet in a sewage!” you bellowed while getting out of his grip.
“you know you can’t do that and it’s waterproof and maybe gutterproof as well so think harder about throwing it. Hyuck would find it eventually and make you wear the same piece!.”
Scrunching your nose in disgust, you muttered a curse at him which only earned a chuckle from him.
“why are you here anyway.”
“for shopping.”
“what shopping?”
“clothes! Duh. You have a celebration to attend!”
You scoffed at his casual tone. “ what celebration johnny. I’m not doing another shit on taeyong’s order.” You declared, hands crossed on chest.
“it’s not something grand. Just a small get together of office workers and you know you can’t ditch tae.”
“office event! That’s another reason to avoid it. I would be alone with yuta and If you don’t know already, he literally pulls his knife at me everytime he sees me! He’ll k-
“I’ll be there.”
“oh so now this is an office event with family members! Good luck convincing me this time!”
“who said anything about attending as family.” He said, winking at you and dragged you by right arm towards his car. Once you were seated, you stopped him from going further.
“nope. Listen. Lemme think first , then I’ll decide what to wear on my own. If you have time, just drop me home. I’m hungry and I have some work to do.” You tiredly said, dropping your head on the seat. He could only chuckled at your antics.
“then we’ll eat something before shopping and I’m not hearing another word. Fasten your seatbelt lady, we are going on a highway to shopping!” you laughed at his cute shout and he took it as a signal to drive.
After insisting johnny that you were going to pay for your own dress, you both stopped at the mall food court to eat something. A full tummy rotated your mood 180 degrees and you were ready to have him pull you around. He dragged you from store to store to only end up doing window shopping until he found THE ONE! That was what he declared it to be!
You both went around different aisles to pick some clothes. Though you could afford those, you still didn’t had the heart to do so. Your precious money was going for what! Clothes?
After something like twenty minutes, you both met near the changing room as decided.
“Go change and give me a show. I don’t trust your old school brain.”
You huffed but did as he said.
He has gotten mixture of bright colours and soft shades, sleeveless and thin strapped, long dresses!
And the one you chose were south to his north. You wore one that you picked at first, a solid black knee length flowy skirt dress with long sleeves. It looked good on all the right places, so you went out to show him.
“how’s this?” you asked him excitedly but the mood died down seeing his dull expression.
“no! you ain’t wearing anything this short!”
“Knee length is not short johnny”
“change it!”
“uugghh!”
The next dress you wore was ivory draped puff long sleeve mini dress. You almost cooed at yourself but he rejected it again. at every dress you chose, he shook his head in disagreement.
“why don’t you try mine ones?” he quipped.
“um. I don’t wear sleeveless.soo..
“why? Those looks sexy girl!”
“no! get me anything quarter or long sleeved but not these thin straps and no questions coz I’m not answering any!” the questions in johnny’s head died down before he could even form them.
“okkk. No need to bite me over that. Wait lemme find something.”
You stood in the changing room for what felt like eternity when johnny finally called you out with his nosy loud voice.
“these!” he handed you two dresses and signalled to change.
“why are we hustling so much. It’s not like anyone’s gonna bother!” you said in a bored tone, feeling the heaviness of the dresses.
“just go already. I’m getting hungry again!”
Both of his dresses were beautiful. All the previous ones looked quite dull in comparison. And just by looking, you already knew what you wanted. as you took in your appearance after changing, a smile lit up on your face. It was a powder blue dress with golden embroidery. The plunging neckline with fitted waist accentuated your best features though it would only properly fit when you were not bloated from eating. Sheer elbow length sleeves with gold hid what you wanted to in the first place, so they were alright. The satin skirt was long , resting right against your legs, not too flowy but you could already imagine yourself in your black heels that would be hidden under the skirt ,yet complementing it perfectly.
you presented yourself in front of johnny.“I want this one.” You said, tightening your hair tie. he wordlessly walked towards you and removed it, setting your straight hair on your back instead.
“how do I look?” you questioned hopefully. His face adorned a very light smile but it still reached his eyes. He moved backwards and examined your form , pretending to be evaluating you with hands tucked in his pockets.
“you look like-” he paused before biting his lower lip as if finding something peculiar to say. “a woman.” He completed, gaze still fixed on your eyes.
“what! A woman. That’s all!! you are just like- just like yeong! Ugh” you stomped your feet before going back to change into original jeans. You were expecting some high quality comment but nevermind.
After you were gone, johnny couldn’t control his laughter. He knew his compliment was lame , heck it wasn’t even a proper compliment but he meant it. And it was not for the dress you wore but for the smile that he saw for the first time. He sighed before he saw you approaching.
“I’m also hungry. Let’s get takeout. Devil won’t be home. We can peacefully eat without interference.”
Johnny chuckled again before following you.
“hey, isn’t this one a bit expensive.” He enquired as the other dress was a bit cheaper.
“I don’t care. I’ll think of this as a long term investment.”
“how?”
“I’ll repeat it at your wedding!”
******************************
Your stomach growled loudly as you opened the door. Johnny tailed behind you with arms full of food and clothing bags. He went to kitchen as you proceeded to find your shorts, dying to get out of the hellishly tight jeans. Holding your hair in a low loose ponytail, you exited the bathroom only to find johnny standing there like a pole.
“what?”
“what! I gotta pee. Get out!” he pulled you out while entering himself.  You returned to the kitchen mumbling incoherently at johnny and opened the take out boxes. As you made your way for the couches, johnny shouted at you.
“you animal!”
“what? Did you call me?”
“you need to heat it first. I’m not gonna eat like an animal!”
You felt slightly unnerved when he extended his hand to carry them to the kitchen again. in no way you were going to stand near it so you transferred the boxes and made your way to the room.
“heat them. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“no wait! why are you always running?” he placed the boxes on counter in a swift motion and rushed for your door.
“why are you hiding now?” he asked knocking lightly, not sure if it was locked or just shut down.
“don’t you have food to heat?”
“oh so that’s your way of running from chores!” he dragged out the last words mockingly.
“no its not like that.” Your said in a small voice. “I’ve an irrational fear of beeps. So I can’t go near the microwave.” You mumbled, voice filled with embarrasement. You weren’t sure why you told him but the bullet was out now.
Johnny went quiet before opening the door to find you standing, head hung low. Taking your arm, he pulled you out of the room.
Now you were standing in front of the oven, scared if he was going to run a test on you. You tried to back away but he was quick in caging you with his long ass arms.
“here,” his finger pointed to a certain button, “this is a mute button. You can shut this damn thing dude. Were you living under a rock or something?” he screeched at you in a high pitched voice, making you wince. But you were stunned at the discovery and you were sure chelin was as illiterate as you were in this matter.
“is it also some expensive shit?”
“no dumbo. Most of these have a mute function. Either you were stupid or just unlucky to buy a wrong one. But what’s with the scare.” He asked with curiousness in his eyes.
You drew your eyes away, wishing he would let it go but his deep stare ultimately broke you.
“Umm old trauma,” you started , avoiding his eyes, “I was in the accident with my mama and dad.I don’t have vivid memories of it, the only thing I remember is the noise of ambulance, police, some shouting. Nothing more. When they took me to their hospital room ,maybe coz I was crying or something, they d-died in front of me. H-heart monitors. Beeping again. when first time mrs.park , my orphanage caretaker , took to me to kitchen to make me food, I screamed and lashed at her violently. A lot of teasing followed that incident, by the senior kids ofcourse. But its only limited to few things, I don’t get triggered by cars or music. And she never took me to kitchen after that, maybe that’s why I never overca-.” You faced him as you completed. “th-that’s the story.” Your voice came out as a harsh deep breath.
“I-I’m sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut from next time” He apologised, his hands sliding from the counter to your waist. “ I- let’s heat this. Your first time. I’ll show you how we use this high end gadget.” He suggested, lightening the atmosphere instantly.
“yeah. I’m very excited!” your words were cheerful but voice wasn’t. he gave you a full on tutorial like a salesman at which you nodded like a very compliant customer. Now you were waiting. Sometime while showing you, his arms had securely held you against the counter, comfortable smiles resting between you two. Johnny’s eyes scanned every feature of your face, in a gaze that was not very tricky to describe. Your own hands were resting on the counter, twitching under his scrutiny. You didn’t want to but couldn’t help thinking if he-
“Woah! What. Is. Happening?” yuta’s surprise entry alarmed you both as johnny levelled himself up, covering you from yuta’s inquisitive eyes.
“Nothing. you say? How was office.” Johnny inquired, immediately changing the subject.
“they love me. That’s enough for me. But what are you up to suh? He wiggled his brows, neck craning to indicate behind-the-scenes happenings.
“we-we went to shopping. And we were gonna eat now. You wanna join?
“shopping? What did you got? Condoms?” he whispered the last part with a devilish smile.
Johnny glared at yuta to which yuta answered with a tired look.
“enjoy yourself. it’s better that I sleep off whatever is gonna happen here. Just keep it low. I’m fucking exhausted and dead.” He retired saying it loudly enough for you to melt in humiliation but he didn’t know explicit comments won’t make you feel low in shame.
Johnny circled to face you after his departure, embarrassed eyes wandering all over the kitchen cabinets above your head.
“I’m not gonna touch it. get it out.” You motioned for the food that was burning in the heat, according to you.
“oh!”
You both went to couches to enjoy the food and talked for about 30 minutes more. It seemed like yuta was seriously out like a light. You laughed, ate, gossiped and when the session ended, he was well aware of your infatuation with certain kinds of drinks and you knew that hyuck was the stinkiest person on earth. All was well and he left, making you happy for the time being.
**********************
Friday
For the whole day, you were busy. Prof. kwang suddenly thought it was best to summon you to fill the absence of his assistant, adding fuel to misery. But you were able to function fully for you hadn’t  run into yuta in the last 24 hours. After completing the extra tutoring sessions, you finally arrived at the destination.
You ran out of the elevator as you were already late. Maybe beyond late. As your room keys jingled, a voice stopped you from turning the knob.
“you are late! We were supposed to be there at 7:30. Taeyong is gonna be pissed off at me now and all because of your shitty time sense.” He gritted his teeth,making you angry but when you turned around, you knew you had fucked up. He was fully ready in a black suit, hair swept back and all , like a gentleman but you didn’t get the time to admire him as the look in his eyes was literally enough to scare you.
“I’m a busy person. Just give me few minutes. I’ll be out.” You said quietly, not ready to start a verbal fight with a no-brain case.
“don’t do that.” he stopped you again from entering the room. “ take a shower first. You ain’t sitting in my car with that smell.”
You bit your lower lip to control the overwhelming urge to kick him in the balls for his hypocrisy and simply shut the door.
After a quick clean up, you changed into the blue dress, did some light makeup to hide the black holes under your eyes. Completing the look with red lip, you went out, bare handed.
Yuta was on the couch, playing some game when you saw him.
“aren’t we getting late or something?” you scoffed , standing in his vision. He sized you up as his pupils dilated. Not wanting to entertain him anymore, you treaded to find your heels. He joined you after a few minutes and within two minutes, you were out.
******************
As you entered the decorated hall, you knew johnny made the event sound more smaller than it was. How you were going to survive the long night was beyond your imagination. Every corner of the room was filled with people chatting away with each other. The more you looked, the more you felt like an outsider. no familiar figure met your sight. The anxiety started creeping in and that’s when you saw someone approach you.
“fashionably late yuta! Its understandable though. Look at y/n. she looks so pretty!” taeil exclaimed, wiggling his brows at you.
“hurry up would you?” yuta said in irritation.
“nope. You are still my employee so tongue in your mouth. now let’s announce your arrival first.”
You followed him like a cat, only stopping somewhere at the centre of the room. You noticed that taeil’s footstops gathered attention like none other.he glanced around before clearing his throat as an indication for everyone to quiet down.
“I don’t need to tell anyone why we are here! But formality is a trend in business and I shall follow it to my deathbed,” a combined laugh followed from everyone but it seemed like an inside joke for you. “yuta nakamoto, our dear employee got hitched in a very intimate ceremony and don’t worry even I wasn’t invited! But tradition continues and here were are gathered to celebrate their happiness. He would be gone soon again so it’d be nice if you all give your wishes and blessings for their future. And I’ll also introduce y/n to the family. She is nothing but a charming woman and i hope she ditches others to join our company one day!” a round of applause followed and taeil cleared the path for everyone.
One by one, people loomed towards you to congratulate in their own way. A hand snaked around your waist, startling you momentarily. “just smile.” His whispered into your hair. You nodded before putting on the biggest smile possible for a person stucked in your position. A few stolen glances at him showed that he was also flashing a bright smile as he shook several hands. Some asked your name, some were interested in your occupation whilst one was interested in knowing the jeweller of your ring. You couldn’t say taeyong so you just waved it off with few giggles. Millions questions were running through your head and there was noone to answer. The aroma of the food passing around in trays was not helping the grumbles coming from your empty stomach. Though you both moved to a corner, fellow employees were still taking turns to have the business and personal talk with your husband. He spewed words like he was the ultimate game, but you knew better just by the way his hold on your waist tightened at some particular questions.
You would’ve surely enjoyed his distress but you wanted nothing more than to eat a piece of cake that that just flew by you. luckily for you, a waiter halted at your stop. You grabbed a drink and hurriedly took a sip to soothe your nerves, all when yuta was staring like a hawk. He observed your nervousness right when you entered but it was heartbreaking for him to avoid poking fun at you.
He gulped his glass in one go, releasing a sigh of relief, as he saw taeyong and others approaching. kun, johnny, jaehyun were tailing behind but they seemed quite distant.
“hello mr. lee. We are glad to have you here.” Yuta formally shook taeyong’s hand, your face instinctively scrunched up at his behaviour.
“I see you married a very fine young woman.”taeyong also cajoled but in a very professional tone.
“you met her! She’s y/n. my partner in crime! Loveliest wife ever. But be careful, she’s a bit nosy.” He pointed his words towards you while keeping an arm around your shoulder. You simply rolled your eyes at him. You were about to threw his arm away when others approached you.
“If I wasn’t concerned about my repo here, I would have cooed at you y/n. I wanna pinch your cheeks so hard right now. Everyone thinks you both are so happy, but only I know how constipated you are from inside woman!”jaehyun laughed like he just shared a joke with you but not holding back, you just unleashed the exaggerated version of his laughter.
“oh jaehyun!” you started, slightly hitting your glass on his arm, “ not sure about a pinch, but I can surely punch your pretty face and guess what! I don’t have any repo to maintain. So its your responsibility that I don’t explode or else you won’t have anything to be concerned about anymore.” You finished letting out a fake giggle, but seemed like everyone but jaehyun found it funny as they were all laughing at the diss.
“atleast you think I’m pretty! No wait! it sounds all wrong!” he suddenly whined, encouraging everyone to laugh loudly at his state.
He was still being grumpy when an old man stopped near you, escorted by taeil making the uproar stop immediately. They all bowed at him and you followed suit. From the looks, he seemed in his 70s or maybe more.
“i love when young people find love. Who do you work for kiddo?” he lovingly asked you.
“I’m a masters student. Law specifically. I wish to join chois one day.”
“chois? I don’t like those leeches. You should try in qian mutlinationals. Kun have more opportunities and you can go international from there. He can give you a free ride till china, beyond that you can explore yourself!” as he finished his wise advice, you turned to kun in surprise. He nodded his head at you with a sheepish smile, confirming the words.
“sure, I’ll give it a thought.”
“and you nakamoto! I heard you were back last week but who would like to greet this old man who’s gonna die anyway.” He scoffed at him and you could sense the tone of friendliness in their interaction.
“you are the one to blame. You don’t get out of your house these days. And you don’t even care enough to visit us anymore.”
Now you were super confused.
“ohh! So she knows everything. When were you gonna tell me! When I had gotten diabetes with all the sweet talking.”as they all expressed their amusement, you were getting restless from all the unknown.
“I would love to hear your love story but I am extremely hungry. But y/n I have a work for you”, you nodded at his words, “ convince moon to remarry. I can’t watch him die like me, alone and unhappy. This manforce have failed so I expect a smart woman like you can find a way to do that. Please promise me, you’ll do it for this old man.” You were out of words but taeil made your work easy as he dragged him away.
“I think you’re drunk enough. Let’s worry about me while eating the delicious food.”
“only you can do it y/n!” and he was gone.
“you’ll get all answers so don’t worry. You look lovely by the way but I shall take my leave as I’m also very hungry.” Taeyong explained patting his stomach. Looked like everyone was getting food but you!
“y/n-ah! Not that shorts don’t suit you but dressing up just scaled up your beauty.” kun chimed in causing yuta to scoff. The way air was leaving his nose, it’d blow up anytime soon.
“johnny’s fashion sense is immaculate like always.” Johnny said, raising his collars.
“don’t blow your own trumpet. I was the one who chose it!”
“huh! What she chose were donkey dresses!”
“donkey! You need to change your dictionary.”
“respect. I’m a top level worker in lee financial corps.” He said smugly.
“so they just hire anyone wow!”
“not jus-
“stop you two! We are still here.” You glanced at kun and yuta, eyeing you both.
“I’m just hungry kun. I just had breakfast and coffee and nothing else.”
“then go and eat. I also need a breather from you!” yuta barked, playing with the empty glass.
It was your turn to snort now. But johnny linked his arm with you to take you away before the war could start. You ate as much as you wanted while questioning him,
“how can these employees have so much energy to spare. Don’t they work 9 to 5, then get time to attend a stupid party!”
“they were given half day off today.” He replied, munching the tofu.
“who was that old man?”
“that’s all part of a circle. You’ll complete it one day but I can’t tell u here so wait!”
“hmm. Then what about taeil? About remarrying him! And taeyong and kun’s companies. Dude that’s huge. How do you manage your syndicate.”
“stop! Cant you eat in silence woman. You’ll know when it’s your turn.”
“ok last one. How can yuta be an employee here when only thing he knows is to make juice or slice people!”
“we have his backup who does the actual work. Yuta takes cares of the investors and all. So he’s supposed to be anywhere but here. So it works out. And fyi he’s quite an eye candy here.”
“then go flirt with him! I ain’t in need of a poison candy.”
after gobbling all the starters, you conversed with him for about 20 minutes whilst enjoying your drinks. And he took you back to you designated seat for the night, right by yuta’s arm.
Earlier, you were being hoarded with guests, now it was your turn. It seemed like you were yuta’s assistant who was taking mini business reports from employees. By now you had no doubt that yuta was nothing but a chameleon, well versed in hiding his true self to blend in the corporate environment. You smiled as much as you could, giggled when yuta laughed and turned towards you, gulped numerous kinds of drinks and now you were a bit tipsy or maybe just tired or both.
You were handling fine being yuta’s dear wifey until they announced that there was a dance. And the stupid couples already hurdled to the centre to show off their skills which you didn’t have in the first place. You heard yuta groan as he pinched his nose and that was his most agreeable expression he had from the whole night.
“let’s just flee after this” yuta suggested.
“hell no! my dancing skills can’t be exposed to these prim prom perfect people. I ain’t doing it.” You continuously shook your head at him, the enmity forgotten for a moment. But he had other plans.
“don’t you dare step on me. I’m gonna eat you alive if you holed my shoes!” he suddenly moved you to the pool of people dancing on the floor. He guided your hands on the right places and the position made you both well aware of the tension in each other’s bodies.
“just do what others are doing.” You craned your neck from side to side but got nothing.
“nobody is doing anything. They’re just stitched to each other!”
“exactly.” And without any warning, he pulled you into him, your grip on his shoulders tightening instantly.Standing chest to chest with him, you totally forgot the need to exhale. You didn’t dare move as he delicately swayed you from side to side, his eyes boring into yours. You wondered what conception were you both throwing at others. He was no pro like you but still managed to look like one.
It continued for few moments until jaehyun interrupted you.
“can I have her hand in dance” he asked yuta to which the man just released you. it was so sudden that you were taken aback by his sour mood but everything about yuta was sudden so you didn’t paid much attention when you had a mountain of trouble standing in front of you.
“may i?” jaehyun asked, bowing to you.
“no!”
“oh come on. I’m much better than yuta in dance.” He jerked your hand and next moment you knew, you were waltzing with him. He was doing what you call actual dancing.
“you looked so romantic with him and here I get the stink eye.” he sighed at you.
“because I am confined by the demand of this situation or else even you would be sporting a black eye by now!”
“I feel extremely hurt y/n. we are same age so shouldn’t we be getting along.”
“getting along my ass you son of nepotism.”
“that’s so unlady like behaviour. You should be accepting friendships when you are getting them. As said by a someone very famous, life is fleeting and in your case, I won’t trust the lifecourse too much.”
“stop using instagram quotes on me. Read the context then put into application, jaehyun. Life is fleeting. Chances would be gone before you know it.”
“when was the last time you listened to someone without running your brain hmm?”
“the same day when you were taking a break from running your mouth.”
“you are a terrible dancer.”
“you aren’t any good either.”
“what was the name of the boy who gave you hickies?”
“you want classes from him?”
“nope. I’m more than better at my game. I just wanna confirm what is he? Blind or dickhead! Coz no sane man would come near your beasty at-
“I hope you love your shoes.”
“what!”
A gasp left him, face turning red as he shut his eyes tightly to contain the pain. you had stomped on his foot with your pencil heel and now he couldn’t do anything but mutter curses as he progressed slowly for the bar to sit. Yuta joined him soon only to fan the flames.
As the time passed , drowsiness took control over your senses. Dinner was being closed by now, but you were the hosts or were supposed to be , so there you stood by the door with same i-am-so-in-love-with-my-hubby and it-was-pleasure-to-meet-you grins plastered on your face. Yuta’s hands would be calloused by the amount of hand shaking he had done but not that you cared.
Goodbyes were sent to taeil and johnny as well and when you were about to leave, jaehyun and taeyong came over with some papers in their hands.
“y/n you forgot to sign these. This one is for the property situated in gangnam. I know I promised three in the same area but I changed my idea for bigger and better. This one’s is in Incheon and other is in busan, your hometown!” he recited as he showed you the stamped papers. You were not sure about taking anything from him so you refused.
“no taeyong. I’m good. I’ve my sources and I’ll be joining summer internship so I can fend for myself.” You reasoned.
“it’s part of the deal. Just sign, I mean well please.”
You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you tried to think harder about it.
“leave it taeyong. This tie is killing me so let’s just talk tomorrow.”yuta said, loosening his bow tie.
“It doesn’t concern you yuta and y/n its part of the promise. Do it or I’ll have to force.” Your jaw clenched at his desperate tone. so you snatched the pen , ready to do as he demanded.
“where do I have to sign!”
“here!” he pointed out on the first file. “and y/n y/l/n nakamoto!”
You nodded without glancing at him and signed on all the three files, making it official.
Taeyong flashed you a smile as you returned him the pen, “I’m glad it worked fine. Now you must be tired so we’ll let you retire.”
You passed him without caring enough to reply. Soon enough , yuta joined you.
**************************
The passing trees and streetlights provided the comfort that you didn’t know you needed. It was sweet, the feeling of being alone yet not letting others feel the same. you were trying to count the number of streetlights as you passed speedily.
“aren’t you smart enough to know why taeyong took your signatures tonight?” yuta broke the silence. he took a sharp cut as you lost your count. Not receiving an answer, he spoke again, calmly, “ those properties were on earlier registered on taeyong’s name and that busan one is mine. Taeyong is sharp witted man  you should’ve been careful before giving in to him.”
“what are you trying to say!”
“everything’s flying through your head right! To put it simply, you are part of mafia now.” Your head snapped towards him in utter shock as words left his mouth, “ if you try to rant us or steal any info to give away, upon background checkout , you’d be found equally involved in the illegal activities of neos for when if it is proved that me or taeyong are part of underground, our properties would be sealed , stamping your future with them. You won’t even escape income tax department let alone cops! Those buildings are after all, result of our illegal income!” he stopped as he took another turn, not aware of how your eyes were glistening by now. “you can’t leave unless taeyong wants you to and pray if you would ever be able to! It was a surprise for all of us as well so you don’t need to feel betrayed at all. You, me, taeyong, johnny. The great black neos!” he finished as the car halted in the parking lot.
As soon as he unlocked, you ran out of it, tears rushing down nonstop. Elevator seemed too slow, the mirrors were making you more dizzy as it moved upwards. Everything came in flashes from the moment you passed by that alley. This was not the deal that you accepted! Regret and guilt filled you as the the lift opened. Throwing your shoes in the midway, you ran to your room as the tears turned into sobs, wrecking your whole body. Turning in the keys, you casted yourself onto the bed. With burning throat you passed out there.
And yuta stood outside your door, emotionless, in an attempt to envision how this would end for the both of you!
********************************************
yuta or johnny??? 
thank you so much for reading!
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Text
Care for you. (Sneak, Sneak.)
Sonic has a bad day. A real bad, and rough day, that lefts him drained and tired in ways he feels are dangerous...
Shadow cant have that, now can he?
Now its a question of wherever Sonic will left him help ride this out, or not...
Soon on AO3!
You can read it under the cut though!
If you squint hard enough you can see some references to depression and/or panic attacks. If I missed something I should have known to tag, please, let me know.
Silence. Solicitude. Calmness. It wasn’t often that Sonic felt such a hard craving for them. That he felt almost a need, such a need so strong it was pretty much breathing down on his neck, and weighing down on his back.
Sonic was tired.
He was oh so tired, so weary to a soul-deep level he tried to not feel so commonly. He really couldn’t afford it, after all, and yet today… today was rough, to call it something.
Battling since early, public appearance all around the place, people screaming, calling his name, cameras being shoved into his face and all… he was used to it, it was…okay, of sorts.
What wasn’t okay was trying to manipulate him. What wasn’t right was using his name to pull people into things that really weren’tokay. What wasn’t right was getting his ears pulled or his body touched or grabbed just because they wanted a rise out of him. To invade his personal space like he didn’t have any kind of right over it anymore. Like it didn’t exist anymore.
What wasn’t right were the set up cameras always waiting for him to mess up.
Always.
The noise.
The fakeness of it all.
The sickening heat.
The hurt on his body.
The ache of his legs.
The pain on his neck and back.
The smoke filling up his nostrils.
The unsavory questions.
The objectifying looks.
It was too much, sometimes.
He ran, and ran, and ran. It felt like ages. It felt like a torture, like if everything was trying to claw out his body and just step on his heart.
His breath was shallow, hitched. His body was sweating, and shivering with an unknown force.
Sonic was tired.
he collapsed on his knees, and then on the soft moss covered ground with barely a sound, gasping with all of his might and trying to get back the feeling on his sore body.
He wasn’t even sure about how much time did he spent like that…he only came to himself when he felt someone approaching, and he had to change his sprawling figure a little, already searching into himself for the last bid of energy into his being so he could flash a smile and wave off any concern or rude question he knew may be on his way.
When he opened his eyes, startled red ones were everything he saw.
It was enough of a shock to had him of all persons spluttering rather unflattering in front of his boyfriend, who fell back on his bottom and was rubbing his eye with his fist, grimacing.
“I am not quite fond of the water plays, hedgehog. Try to keep them to yourself?” he gritted, a disgusted expression clear on his face.
Casual.
“What are you doin-How did you find me?!” Sonic squeaked, blinking furiously and trying to stand on his still jelly like legs. That was, of course, a failure.
Shadow just frowned at him, lifting the basket he held on his hand right on his eye level, half full with things Sonic couldn’t really name, and gesturing at it with this free hand.
Oh.
In Sonic´s defense he… well. He didn’t notice it, honestly, and how was that possible was a serious question he won’t dwell on.
He totally wouldn’t think about what could have happened had it been something AND someone different. Nop.
Not today!
“I was picking up things for dinner and tomorrow breakfast, as I always do, hedgehog. Always. Do. Shouldn’t you know that by now?”
“Yeah but you don’t… you usually don’t… just how late is it?”
Shadow´s frown deepened. “have you hit your head?”
“Aw, C´mon it’s a valid question! I… I…Don’t know for sure, but it is not why I- You were searching for me?” he changed the subject to what was, for him, a more pressing matter, doing the effort on sitting up even if all his body screamed at him to not do, to just lay there.
“Should I have?” Shadow tilted his head, some curiosity on his eyes as he didn’t bother in hide how his eyes trailed down Sonic´s body, searchingly, before looking back at his eyes, arching his eye ridge. “Something I should know?”
“No.” The word was out of his mouth before he ever really thought about it, a small shake that was everything his head could manage at the moment. “There…there really is not, babe. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, kay?” Shifting his weight, he reached out a hand, not minding a bit the slow spreading pain on his upper muscles, actually, it was the last thing on his mind right now. How could he stop to think about the annoying sensation when all of his focus was on the hybrid in front of him, a tender smile in those lips he adored so much as Shadow rubbed his cheek against his palm, letting him cradle his face with no complain. Damn.
He loved Shadow´s smiles.
“Up?”
“Whatever you wish.” Shadow´s hand came up as well, holding his still just so he could twist a bit and left a little kiss on his palm and then his knuckles, not paying mind to Sonic´s blush or the little burns or scratches littered on his skin. He didn’t comment, and didn’t ask neither.
Sonic thought he loved him a little bit more than before.
With barely a move, now the both of them were standing, Shadow´s arm finding its way around Sonic´s body, steadying him while holding him close, as finally, the hedgehog was able to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Sorry, I pulled you too hard.”
“…No biggie.”
Thing was…He didn’t. it was him the one at fault. The one that needed a second to find his right footing even now, as he felt his boyfriend kiss his cheekbone, and then his cheek. They just waited, for what? Shadow wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think Sonic knew it, neither, but they did, just breathing in, holding each other as the azure leaned more and more on him...until suddenly they weren’t, each taking a step back in synchrony.
Sonic stretched, glaze on the far away trees.
Shadow crouched, setting his basket in the ground so he could pick up the ingredients that fell off.
A peach bared hand was firmly perched on a dark shoulder, though, and a gloved one rested on top of it, quietly.
Neither talked for a while, content just as they were. Comfortable.
It really wasn’t something to scoff at in their life styles.
However, the sun was starting to go down, and the skies were darkening with quite the speed, suspicious raising in Shadow´s stomach as he eyed the gloomy clouds he could see.
They needed to move.
Straightening up once more, Shadow took Sonic´s hand off his shoulder, holding it to his lips so a small tender kiss could be laid on the [Wounded. Sonic is wounded.] appendage, softly lowering it and letting it go, despite his lover´s pout and confusion.
A small flicker towards the rain clouds ahead of them, and Sonic eyes cleared slightly in understanding. Good.
He started to walk away, calm, slowly, studying the plush greenery around him with scientific dedication, stopping from time to time to sniff at a few, or rub a single leaf between his fingers, sometimes taking a few and setting in inside his basket, sometimes taking the time to scribble down a few words after looking around.
If Sonic noticed or doubted his slow pace, he didn’t say something, focused in the ground at his feet, making sure the rain was still far, and trying to keep up with the ebony steps.
If he noticed Shadow´s lingering glances, he ignored them.
Shadow was okay with silence.
“I take it I was close to the house, then?”
But…maybe Sonic was not. Part of him was growing restless, and he kind of half hoped his boyfriend would suddenly propose to Chaos control away.
Usually he would say no. He knew that. even when tired, or slightly wounded.
Running, even walking, always gave him a rush. Life.
He was so tired though. He almost didn’t want to think of it at all…
“You would be quite right, dear.” A silence. Ruby eyes snapped to his left, getting lost in the deep mess of foliage. His words were also lost, apparently. Sonic could almost see the gears on his brain working overtime. “I take it you weren’t planning on coming home?”
Home…
Well. It was curious that from all the places he could have ended in he so casually found himself that close to Shadow´s house.
To home.
Yeah. He liked that word. It was especially lovely coming out of Shadow´s lips. It was especially lovely knowing that the dark hero saw him as part of that home.
“How could I not, Hn?! Wouldn’t have missed it for nothin´!” He assured, and this time the smile that grazed his lips came easily to him. It came with life, and love, and Shadow didn’t have any kind of shame at the way he marveled at it, before a small yet equally heartfelt smile formed on himself.
I adore you, it seemed to say. Thank you, it seemed to scream.
The dark hero looked away for a moment, bottom lip softly held between his teeth. He was happy. Sonic could tell. He was so happy and the only thing they did was smile at each other.
How simple, wasn’t it?
Sonic wasn’t happy. He didn’t think he was. But it was an improvement, that was for sure. Like calm was finally edging into his consciousness, closing, and closing in.
It was a good feeling.
In a way, he was happy to had it. He was happy to have Shadow with him.
He still felt tired. But it was okay.
Once home he was going to rest. And then maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad afterward.
It was going to be okay.
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dessarious · 4 years
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The Angel of Death Pt10
Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev
AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next
Marinette had been staking out the warehouse for going on six hours when an old man seemingly dressed like a turtle showed up. She could feel the magic coming off him and knew he was the one the Kwami wanted her to meet. She already felt that this was a mistake. The man was brash and foolish to just walk into a meeting with an unknown entity without even bothering with a cursory sweep of the area. Marinette had no time and no use for fools.
“It is not polite to hide and stare at people, especially without introducing yourself.” He was staring directly at the place where she’d hidden the Miraculous while she was at his back. The man not only relied on magic, he assumed anyone else would if they had the chance. An easy mark if she were so inclined. The fact that this man was the caretaker of a power that could completely remake or even destroy the world was frightening if she was being honest.
“Politeness is overrated and I don’t see what introducing myself would accomplish.” The man spun around at her voice but she was already moving to a different location so he wouldn’t be able to pin her down. She watched as he squinted into the shadows where he heard her voice. The man really was hopeless.
“A name can tell you a lot about a person.” Marinette didn’t even try to stop the derisive snort that left her.
“At most a name tells you what someone’s parents hoped they’d be, though it’s more likely that they simply thought it sounded good with their last name. It says nothing about who or what a person is independent of that.” She moved again but not nearly as far as before. She watched him for any sign that he was tracking her movements but didn’t find any. Either the man was still alive by pure chance or he was very good at pretending to be oblivious. The first was a strong possibility if he relied on tiny gods to protect him but she knew better than to underestimate a potential threat.
“A valid point, but that still doesn’t tell me what I should call you.” She debated what to tell him. The Kwami seemed to think they could help each other but she knew better than most that having people close to you was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Not to mention the fact that if the League was hunting her or even just happened to stumble upon her while she was with him the Miraculous would be in danger as well. Better that he know exactly what he’s dealing with and leave.
“I’ve been called many things in my life. I’m currently referred to most often as The Angel of Death.” That got his attention. She watched as he stiffened and suddenly was surrounded by a magic shield. She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “If I wanted you dead you would be already. If you’ve heard of me you know I don’t kill indiscriminately and I highly doubt you’ve done anything that would land you on my hit list anyway.” She watched the man frown in thought.
“You were hired to kill Hawkmoth.” It was a statement and she didn’t bother to confirm it. “You let yourself get Akumatized to find him didn’t you?”
“I did.” She simply waited while he mulled over that information. Tikki hadn’t been very forthcoming about their conversation, she had a feeling it was more to do with not being able to than being unwilling, so she wasn’t certain what the man actually knew. She was interested to see what conclusions he would come up with. She shook her head when he dropped his shield before answering. The man was far too easy a target.
“It was a foolish thing to do. You’re lucky he didn’t see what your intentions were.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. The man was incompetent and far too focused on his own desires to find information in a trained mind. He didn’t even notice I was still in control of myself let alone what I was planning to do.” That seemed to surprise him and it made her think he didn’t know as much about the Miraculous as he should, let alone other forms of magic.
“You remember everything that happened while you were Akumatized?” He sounded skeptical and worried. She didn’t answer right away. The Kwami had the same reaction when she told them, even Nooroo. The question was whether she wanted him to know what she was capable of so he didn’t come after her himself.
“Yes, I was in control of myself the entire time. Hawkmoth didn’t force me to do anything and I doubt he could have if he tried.” If she’d learned anything through their connection it was that Gabriel didn’t have the empathy to truly use the connections Nooroo formed for him. He forced his will on others and that only worked until he possessed someone with a stronger will than his.
“Why did you ask for this meeting?” He sounded wary but Marinette paused in confusion. What exactly had Tikki said to him?
“I didn’t. Tikki said they thought we could help each other and convinced me to meet with you. To be honest I don’t see what you could possibly teach me that will improve my skills and my being near you is likely to put you in danger. The Kwami seem set on remaining with me and given your apparent lack of strategy and overall skill I can understand why.” She expected him to be insulted but he just looked mildly annoyed. She moved behind him once again knowing she’d have to prove her point.
“The Miraculous are not going to be entrusted to someone like you. Either return them or face the consequences.” She couldn’t help the eye roll as she scanned him for the Miraculous he was wearing. It had to be the bracelet, nothing else was out of place. She attacked swiftly, stepping out of the shadows behind him and grabbing the bracelet. She tore it off in one smooth motion and was now face to face with an old man, amazingly even shorter than herself. She watched his face change from anger to panic to confusion as he finally took in who, or rather what, he was looking at.
“You’re just a child.”
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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years
Text
Resentment Ch. 1 (Ethan x MC)
Summary: After 2 months of not seeing each other, Ethan and Naomi do not have a pleasant reunion.
A/N: So...I’ve been writing this for the past 2 weeks. Open Heart 2 is ripe with angst and untapped drama. Tbh, this is my 5th draft, and I kept deleting and writing, and deleting and re-writing this, and I had to step away multiple times, as this was probably be one of my more draining fics to write. But anyway, if you’re still reading this long winded ass note, thank you lol. And enjoy, as always!
Tags: @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @doroshi-desu @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @dr-nancy-house @adrian-motherfucking-raines
~v~
Seeing Ethan Ramsey again nearly knocked the wind out of her. It feels like she saw a ghost. But here’s here, at Donahue’s, strolling through the garden as if this is any other night. As if he didn’t disappear off of the face of the earth for 2 months.
Naomi didn’t plan on having such a visceral reaction to seeing him, but she has little to no control over her body these days. Her heart speeds up, beating twice as fast, a cold sweat breaks out, starting at her forehead, and there’s the flip of her stomach and unmistakable taste of bile rising in her throat.
‘Do not throw up,’ she silently begs herself. ‘Do not throw up. Please, keep it together, Valentine.’
The chant doesn’t work, the nausea hitting her hard, like a wave crashing against the shore. She jumps out of her seat, ignoring the looks of confusion from her friends, and makes a beeline to the restroom, pushing past the other patrons at the bar. She barely makes it into a stall before she’s on her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into a dirty public toilet.
Naomi isn’t sure how long she’s like this, embarrassingly clutching the toilet, but a knock at the stall door breaks her out of her trance. “It’s occupied!”
“It’s Sienna,” the voice on the other side says softly. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
The door swings open slowly and Sienna attempts to squeeze into the small space. It’s a tight squeeze, but she manages to make it work.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Naomi mumbles weakly. “You didn’t have to follow me.”
“Yes I did,” Sienna argues. She helps Naomi to her feet and pulls at the roll of cheap toilet paper. She bunches it up and wipes the corner of Naomi’s mouth. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“I feel like I’ve just seen one,” Naomi quips back. “Let’s just say I did not expect to see Dr. Ramsey here tonight.”
“You didn’t know he was coming back?” Sienna asks. “I thought you two were close.”
Naomi thought they were close too. But she got ghosted. It was jarring, going from sleeping with Ethan and openly flirting with him, to him being her boss again, to him disappearing and cutting off all communication within a span of 3 days. “I thought we were too.”
“How do you think it’ll be, working with him tomorrow?”
“I have no idea what to expect,” Naomi replies honestly. “Hopefully the rest of the team is nice.”
Sienna lifts Naomi up, helping her stand on her feet again. They exit the stall and Naomi washes her hands furiously like she’s about to perform surgery.
They walk out of the bathroom, Sienna with a protective arm around her friend’s waist. The rest of their friends are now inside, at their usual booth.
They all stare at Naomi, and she hates it. Now they’re probably going to think of her as the weirdo who threw up upon seeing her boss (an ex-lover, though not everyone is privy to that information).
“You just missed the wildest shit,” Bryce says, almost breathless. “Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Thorne nearly got into a fight!”
That was the last thing Naomi expected to hear. “What?”
“Thorne was being a real creep, and he tried to feel up some young girl. He touched her and she broke his hand!” Elijah exclaims. “He got loud and rowdy, he pushed her down, and Ethan came out of nowhere, swooping in like freaking Batman. I thought he was going to snap Thorne’s neck at one point.”
“Where is the girl?” Naomi asks. 
“She ran out of here as soon as she could.”
“I hope she’s okay,” Naomi murmurs, mostly to herself.
“Are you okay?” Bryce asks. “I’ve never seen you get sick before.”
“Whatever virus is fermenting in your body, please keep it away from me,” Jackie says, not even giving Naomi the chance to respond.
“Jackie!” Sienna tsks in annoyance. “Have some compassion.”
“She’s either drunk or it’s the stomach flu,” Jackie says with a shrug. “She’ll survive a little teasing.”
“It’s okay, Sienna,” Naomi insists. She loves her friend’s protective nature, but it really isn’t necessary. “You don’t have to go into mother hen mode.”
“Fine. But I’m making you soup after work tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
Reggie announces last call, and the gang starts talking about their post-bar plans. Be it getting food, going downtown, or just going home. Naomi drowns out the conversation as her eyes settle onto Ethan. His back is turned to her and Naomi notices that he’s the only one left at the bar while Reggie is cleaning up.
“Does last call not apply to you?” Naomi asks, getting his attention.
“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement,” Ethan says simply.
“An arrangement.” Naomi rolls her eyes as she repeats the words. “Is that what you call a friendship?”
“I don’t have friends. But...I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”
Naomi weighs her options. She can go home and put this night behind her, or she can stay out with Ethan. And actually talk to him.
She turns back to her friends. “You guys go on ahead. I want to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”
She doesn’t believe that excuse for one second. And if her friends don’t believe it either, they don’t say anything. Sienna just tells her to not stay out too late, before they all leave, going their separate ways.
Once they’re gone, Naomi joins Ethan at the bar. She looks at, really looks at him. He’s still the same handsome guy, just more...rugged. He’s much more tan than she remembers, it looks like he’s gained weight—muscle, not fat—and he’s sporting an entirely new look.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she muses.
Ethan looks down at his green jacket, a vast departure from the sweaters and button ups he usually wears.
“This jacket’s been through a lot with me,” he explains, toying with the sleeve.
“I like it.”
She doesn’t miss the way he perks up at the compliment, almost as if he was hoping she’d say something. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Duly noted. And the beard?”
Ethan doesn’t know why he needs her stamp of approval so badly, but the validation she gives him feels nice. He likes to know that she thinks he looks good.
“It looks good on you,” Naomi answers honestly. Ethan scratches the beard, his fingers flying towards it unconsciously at her words. He nods, soaking in her praise.
“I’ve gotten used to it.”
Naomi looks around as an almost awkward silence settles between the two of them. She’s now actively aware of the fact that it’s just the two of them, alone.
“Why don’t we move this outside?” Ethan suggests, some of the tension dissipating. “It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. You want something to drink?”
Naomi’s stomach flips at the mention of alcohol. “You know what I want? A cup of ice water.”
Ethan’s eyebrow quirks up at the answer. They’re in a bar and she wants...water? He shrugs but heads behind the bar, nonetheless. Grabbing a Pilsner glass, he fills it to the top with ice and he also finds a bottle of water. He hands them off to Naomi. “For you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” They make their way outside. It’s so quiet now that everyone is gone. It feels peaceful. Ethan drops down in a chair near the fire pit and Naomi joins.
“I can see why you like it here.”
“Because nobody’s annoying me?” Ethan jokes.
“More or less,” Naomi concedes. “It’s peaceful.” Ethan nods in agreement. “So...how was it, being in the Amazon?”
“It was quite the experience. It kept me on my toes.”
“Fighting an epidemic in a different country sounds...thrilling. And scary. You’re brave for doing it.”
Ethan snorts. Naomi always manages to see the best in him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “That wasn’t bravery.”
Naomi looks down at her lap. “You didn’t keep in touch. Two whole months without any form of communication seems extreme, don’t you think? Especially after everything that’s happened with us?”
“Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you.”
“192,” Naomi says. 
“Huh?”
“192. That’s how many times I’ve called you in the past 2 months. I also sent 75 texts and 30 emails. You could have responded to at least one of those.”
Hearing the numbers out loud makes Naomi feel ridiculous, like a stalker. And Ethan just feels...awful. He remembers his chest going tight every time he saw her name flash across his screen. He remembers the restraint it took him to not call her back, or reach out in any way. He needed to stay away. It was for the best, for both of them.
“Naomi, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start. Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever...what is was that we had.”
Ethan probably would’ve been better off taking this glass of ice water and throwing it in her face. The callousness in his voice chilled her to the core. “That’s how you’d describe it? As ‘whatever’?”
Ethan sighs heavily. Of course his relationship with the younger woman meant something to him, but if he was going to be her boss, they needed boundaries. There had to be a line.
“Pouring my heart out to you on multiple occasions and vice versa, secretly saving our boss’s life, you bringing Mrs. Martinez’s son to my ethics hearing, the sex, it all just culminates to a...whatever. What? Is what we went through just a casual experience in the life of Ethan Ramsey?”
“Of course not, but Naomi, I can’t go down this road with you again. We need to have a reset if things are going to work.”
She doesn’t know why the word ‘reset’ makes her laugh, but it does. She laughs, hard, almost maniacally, until her sides hurt and she can barely breathe. Ethan says nothing, staring at her in confusion.
“You know what, Ethan? Fuck you.”
That catches him off guard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me loud and clear. Fuck. You. You’re a coward. And a runner. You run at the slightest hint of something being hard, or if you have to face your own emotions and vulnerabilities. You run off, drinking yourself silly and keeping your head in the sand, and then you come waltzing back as if nothing happened, but guess what? Life still happens. There is no reset, no do-overs, no pauses. Time still moves forward.”
Tears prick the corners of her eyes and she wills herself to not cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve any more of her vulnerability. She doesn’t know why it hurts so much, but it does. The idea of him moving through life as if what they shared was minuscule and insignificant burns. It causes a sharp ache in her chest she didn’t realize she had the capacity to feel.
“While you were in South America, ignoring the almost 400 pieces of correspondence I sent, I was still here, still dealing with shit, still caring about you, worrying about you and your safety every fucking day. I don’t have the luxury of turning my feelings on and off whenever I see fit, and I don’t get to delude myself into thinking I can turn back time.”
How many times are they going to play this game before she realizes she’s always going to be the loser? She and Ethan get close, he rejects her but leaves just enough space and opportunity to keep her hanging on.
Naomi wraps her arms around her midsection and slightly curls into herself. Not even her own embrace is soothing at this point. The rejection stings, and she feels...stupid. Why does she keep holding out hope for Ethan, hoping he’ll want her the same way she wants him? Why does she keep coming back, waiting diligently like a little puppy, nipping at his ankles for the slightest bit of attention? Maybe she’s just a glutton for pain.
“If you want to hit the reset button, you can do it by yourself. I’m not playing that game with you.” Naomi abruptly stands up, clutching onto the back of her chair for stability. “Goodnight.”
Panic settles in his chest. He doesn’t want things with her to end like this, with her hating him. He wants her to stay. He wants to take back everything he just said. “Naomi, I–”
“Save it!” Whatever he’s about to say, whatever line it is that’ll feed her just enough false hope to keep hanging on, she doesn’t want to hear it.
After gathering her belongings, she turns on her heel, looking for the exit. Her entire body is rigid, defensive and ready to strike at any given moment, and she feels like she’s going to throw up again, which is something she truly does not have time for.
She’s fully prepared to walk away from him with whatever shred of dignity she still has, but she stops herself. She turns around, facing Ethan again.
“I called you a lot while you were gone. I left countless voicemails until your mailbox was completely full. Did you listen to any of them?”
“I haven’t listened.” Ethan feels ashamed by the answer, and he refuses to meet her big doe eyes, opting to look at the ground.
Naomi doesn’t dwell on the answer. She shakes off the hurt, and powers through.
“Last Wednesday, at 5:21 am, I called. You obviously didn’t answer, and I left a message. I’ll set the scene for you because I’ll never forget the moment. I was sitting in my bathtub, crying, almost hysterically. It was the type of crying that gets Meryl Streep and Viola Davis Oscar nominations, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. But I live with 3 other people, so I had to sob into a face towel until the worst of it passed. And then I called you. Logically, I knew you probably weren’t going to answer, but I figured one last Hail Mary couldn’t hurt so I did it anyway. 
In the voicemail, I practically begged you to talk to me. To answer at least one of my calls. It was so...desperate. And pitiful. The old Naomi would rather get buried alive than to ever be so emotionally available and needy, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I needed you, I needed solace that I thought only you could give me, but I know now that it won’t happen. You’re way too emotionally stunted and unavailable.”
She inhales, something shaky and full of vulnerability, and every bone in her body is screaming out to just shut the fuck up and turn away.
“But you didn’t answer, you didn’t acknowledge it, and I was just absolutely gutted,” Naomi continues. “Because had you answered that call, or called me back some time that day, I would’ve told you that I’m pregnant.”
With that confession, Naomi visibly deflates. It feels like a crushing weight has been lifted off of her chest.
But Ethan feels the exact opposite. Unable to move, he gapes at Naomi. “You-you’re what?”
“Pregnant. 9 weeks, 5 days. It’s the size of an olive at this point, and before you ask, yes, it’s yours.”
Paternity hadn’t even crossed his mind at this point. He’s still stuck on the fact that she’s pregnant. 
“So while it hurts to know what you want a reset, and to pretend we didn’t share anything, it is also literally impossible to do so,” Naomi says with a humorless chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’ve received the message loud and clear. See you at work tomorrow, Doctor. Oh, and congratulations.”
Ethan watches as she leaves, even though he calls her name, asking her to stay. His chest feels tight like someone is squeezing him from the inside, and he struggles to inhale. The revelation stifles him, and he can’t get his bearings.
Unable to do much else, Ethan falls back into his chair. Despite trying his damnedest to get things back on track, it feels as if he’s made everything so much worse.
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Text
now they’re annoyed we’re not looking at the menu just yet
fill for Supercorptober2020 prompt: dog
read on ao3
Early morning conference calls are the bane of Lena Luthor’s existence. But early morning conference calls on a Sunday is a category of its own cause of misery.
Lena’s just about to indulge herself, starting with some warm morning sunlight that actually feels pleasant and not at all burning. Perhaps some waffles next—a rarity and a treat all the same, and one she thinks she rightfully deserves after the week she’s had. 
Her Au Lait has been served, its aroma already feeling like a balm that soothes a fair amount of the roughness from the past week. It’s also at the right temperature, exactly how she prefers it, and is merely waiting for her to take that first sip when her phone rings and her screen flashes her assistant’s name.
Lena knows that Jess knows that she is not to be disturbed, has left explicit instructions not to before she turned her laptop off and stepped out of her office around eleven that past Friday night.
So Lena knows it’s going to be one of those days again, because Jess knows and she called anyway.
This is where Lena Luthor finds herself: inside one of her favorite cafes, needing to trade the perfect sunlight and her perfect breakfast for switching on a laptop she’s made a promise not to touch today, in a quiet spot tucked at the corner of the cafe, and cold food she’ll come back to once it’s over.
At least her new seat has the view of the windows; Lena tries to take some consolation from that. Though she’s not entirely sure because she can see the place she’s just vacated and now it feels more like an annoyance than an actual source of comfort.
She’s just five minutes in on the call, but there’s already a rapidly escalating argument between two of her board members. Two men Lena hasn’t found a valid reason to replace yet—though she already has their replacements in mind—and the only thing Lena can do short of dropping from the call itself is wish for some kind of distraction to keep her from doing something stupid and definitely legally liable, like firing every single one of them on the spot.
(In the end, Lena just rolls her eyes.)
��
The distraction is a good kind, and comes in the form of a fluffy white dog with a red handkerchief tied around its neck like a tiny cape, his tongue lolling out as he plops down sitting right by Lena’s feet. 
Lena doesn’t notice him at first, the slow rise of her temper being another kind of distraction that she absolutely hates. She’s a little too occupied with glaring at everyone through their screens, her patience nearing the end of its already short thread in each second that passes.
The dog doesn’t seem to like that either, doesn’t like the scowl that’s starting to paint itself on Lena’s face. So he whines his protest, bumping his head on Lena’s hand that’s hanging limply over the chair’s arm, and inevitably announcing his presence to Lena.
Lena almost jumps in surprise, and it’s only thanks to the dog’s kind face that she doesn’t—and the years and years of experience facing all kinds of clowns behind L-Corp’s boardroom doors.
She does press a hand over her chest though, prompting Chelsea from HR to ask if everything’s alright.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Lena assures, dismissing that line of questioning by clearing her throat. “Please do continue.”
The dog lets out another whine from the lack of attention but switches his approach, rubbing his face on the back of Lena’s hand this time. Her fingers flex in turn, curling around his head in tender pets that settles him down.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen this proposal everyone seems to be too keen to discuss,” Lena snips on the call, though her hand slides down through soft fur, settling on a fluffy neck. “And on a Sunday, too.”
The man from earlier—Donald from Operations in their Dallas office, Lena vaguely remembers; she really needs to do a revamp soon—begins to contend the necessity of the call. But it’s all mindless chatter to Lena now, her concentration quickly slipping away from the conversation and down to the adorable creature still imploring for more of her attention.
Lena discreetly angles the camera away while Donald prattles on, tipping the screen even farther back so that less of her face is visible. She then taps on one of the pods tucked in her ear to mute her side of things from the conference, and finally gives the dog the attention he deserves.
He barks at that, seemingly recognizing that Lena is his now, his tongue lolling back out again in excitement. The sight makes Lena chuckle, and she rewards him with scratches at the back of his ears.
His whole body wiggles at that, but it’s the lack of jingling sounds that draws Lena’s gaze towards the name tag stuck in between the tiny bells. She stoops down slightly to fix it, the pad of her thumb tracing the letters carved comically on the metal plate.
Krypto.
A small rolled up paper takes her attention next, tucked behind his blue collar belt. Lena plucks it out and twists the collar back into place, then proceeds to unroll the paper in between her fingers with a puzzled frown.
Hi.
Lena snaps her head up, her gaze sweeping around and out of the cafe. But it’s quite abrupt that it prompts another round of is everything okay, Miss Luthor from her colleagues.
“Yes, everything is still fine,” she says. “Though I ought to ask you that because it’s been twenty minutes and we clearly are achieving nothing.”
It effectively silences everyone on the other side of the call, save for Jess who’s at the far corner of Lena’ screen, her lips twitching, Lena can see. Hers almost does too, at the startled look on their faces, but Lena manages to set it to a thin line that conveys her obvious dismay. “I suggest we table this topic for the next board meeting and move to what’s next on our agenda.”
She waits for the chorus of yes, Miss Luthor—though she gets whatever you think is best, Miss Luthor from those who’ve developed an unfortunate habit of sucking up, as if it ever did them any favors—before she taps on her earpod again to get her on mute. Her gaze darts back to skimming the place, until it lands on her previous table that a blonde newcomer is now occupying.
Lena’s brow rises of its own accord, her head cocking the tiniest bit at the woman who seems to be waiting for Lena to notice her. And now that Lena has, she lifts a finger and points towards the paper Lena remembers she’s still holding; makes a show of taking a leisurely sip from her own cup of coffee to hide her smug grin.
Lena looks down at the paper once more. It still says Hi and nothing else, so she roots for the pen she keeps inside her purse, scribbling her own Hi that she punctuates with a question mark.
She rolls it up again, tucking it in the same place she found it. She pats Krypto’s head next, and then directs his gaze to where the blonde woman is perched on.
He recognizes her immediately, darting off of his spot and through the automatic sliding doors, straight to where his owner is.
Lena would’ve loved to watch the woman’s next move, but the conference call is still unfortunately going and doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, much to Lena’s displeasure.
Another round of arguments starts, sparked by Karen this time—still from Operations in Dallas, and Lena probably should begin the reorganization as early as tomorrow—who dismisses Jess so flippantly when the latter asked if she could offer any assistance that Lena feels the rise in her temper almost physically.
“Need I remind you, Miss Harper, that Jess is my assistant,” Lena says. Pointed. Biting. “If you have any issues with that, take it directly to me.”
There’s a string of much more colorful words lining up at the tip of Lena’s tongue, and really, Karen should be thankful of Krypto trotting back to where he’s been sitting that Lena’s able to keep them from being let loose.
A fresh rolled up piece of paper is tucked in Krypto’s collar once more, though it’s in the opposite spot of where the previous one has been. Lena fishes it out to read the ensuing message.
You’re really pretty.
Lena throws a glance towards Krypto’s owner, who boldly winks at her when they meet each other’s eyes—Lena absolutely does not blush at that at all—before picking her pen back up to write her reply.
Thank you?
She sends Krypto back, and then faces the screen once more. The call is about to clock at forty minutes now, to which Lena’s honestly tempted to just halt completely, send everyone to pack up and just meet her in three days.
They’d all oblige anyway, Lena knows this. But how she can’t even manage to scrounge for a decent reason why she isn’t doing so is the real mystery.
She hears more than sees the patter of paws on the floor—and, ah, yes, the dog. Lena is able to put up with so much nonsense for an early Sunday morning because of a very, very cute dog, and his very, very charming owner.
Their messenger lets out another bark as he throws himself up to lean on Lena’s lap. Lena snatches another paper in his collar before it gets drenched in slobber, rewarding Krypto with more scratches in between murmurs of you’re such a good boy, and a boop on the tip of his nose.
You seeing anybody?
Lena can’t help the laugh that escapes from her mouth, feeling incredibly grateful that she hasn’t forgotten to go on mute. She looks at the blonde woman once more, watches her cross her arms and lean back against the chair rest. She wiggles her eyebrows playfully at Lena, her bottom lip caught in between her teeth. It’s a sight that Lena shouldn’t even find as attractive as she does given the way her glasses shake along with each movement, but she does, and even Science wouldn’t be able to explain her reasons why.
Lena can only shake her head at the woman’s antics. She returns her attention back to the paper, penning what might be her heartbreak.
Happily married, actually
She gets a pout as the woman’s initial reply; not that Lena’s staring at her or anything, she still does have a meeting going on that requires her presence. And a messenger that trots back longer than usual.
Aww, that’s too bad. But props to her for making an honest woman out of you.
How do you know, Lena starts to write back. But she catches Krypto from the corner of her eye, sniffing the nearby rolling display stand filled with bread. So she calls him back and flags down a waitress, asks for some dog treats that the cafe luckily sells being a pet friendly place.
The conference call has honestly become the farthest thing on her mind now, having long lost interest the minute it started. Jess sees it too, so she begins steering the conversation towards the last bullet point on their agenda, even though she has to skip quite a few others.
With Krypto fed and looking particularly pleased about it, Lena returns to the reply she’s half written, finishing it so that it reads: How do you know it’s not a he?
She sends the dog back to his owner with two more treats. He reappears at Lena’s side after a few beats, bearing what Lena thinks is the last of her and the woman’s correspondence.
Just a feeling :)
The meeting finally ends just shy of an hour and five minutes, much to Lena’s utmost relief, with a follow-up that’s set to three weeks away from tomorrow.
(She might just give Jess a raise solely for that.)
Lena pushes her laptop to a close, clutching it against her chest as she gets to her feet. Krypto follows her dutifully, and together, they make their way out of the cafe and towards the table Lena has previously vacated.
The blonde woman is still perched on the same chair, affecting a lazy posture as she continues to lean against the rest. But her arms crossed scream anything but, matched with the way she watches Lena approach, mischief written all over the crinkle in her eyes.
“Hello pretty lady,” the other woman greets, only straightening herself up when Lena draws near and she pulls Lena’s chair for her. “Who is happily married.”
Lena merely laughs in response; hides the affection behind the roll of her eyes. “Yes, that would be me.”
“Is your wife going to be mad if I sit here with you?” Her companion asks. She leans forward a little, Lena pushing the plateful of soggy waffles and the now cold cup of coffee out of her way so that her golden blonde curls don’t get drenched in either coffee or syrup.
“I don’t know, Kara,” Lena answers cheekily. “You tell me.”
“I think she won’t be,” the woman—Kara tells her then. “I think she’d even want you to give me a kiss.”
Lena chuckles at that, her laughter growing when Krypto barks from his new spot, pressed against Lena’s legs, seemingly to agree. “You think, huh? Maybe I should give her a call now and ask.”
“No need,” Kara says, waves a hand in dismissal. “I’m a hundred percent sure about it.”
The other woman hums, biting at her bottom lip to stifle the grin that’s threatening to escape. But she lets it in the end anyway, no longer able to keep up pretenses. 
She takes Kara’s hand and laces their fingers together, her thumb wiping away the traces of soot and ash that Kara has missed. A product of her early morning super duties, and part of the reason why Lena’s getting waffles at the cafe and not making them at home like usual. Lena had needed a walk and some fresh air while she waited for her wife to join her for breakfast.
“You’re in a very playful mood today, honey,” Lena tells her then.
“I just watched you tell those, and I quote, bumbling idiots, that they’re not achieving anything—which was very true, by the way, babe—so of course I’m in a mood.”
Lena raises a brow, her lips tugging up to a haughty smirk. (And, okay, Lena may have called them that under her breath once, perhaps even twice, but no one can blame her, really.) “Is it enough to warrant skipping breakfast?”
Kara sucks at her teeth, pretending to ponder. But ultimately, she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “I love you, but I’ve been up at four am literally putting out fires with no food to fuel me. So it’s gonna be a pass to skipping, but a definite yes to dessert.”
She watches her wife laugh, her famed dimples popping out, and it’s a very much welcomed change from the crease that had seemingly carved itself on her wife’s forehead the past hour and five minutes. 
Kara basks at that sight and the melodic sound that fills the air, soft, and lovely and genuine; lives for it even, her own heart swelling tenfold when it grows at her next words, “I am dead serious about that kiss, though.”
Lena inches forward, nudging her nose against her wife’s to cross the scant space in between them. And as she presses her lips against Kara’s own, Lena Luthor thinks she no longer hates that morning.
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levyfiles · 4 years
Note
I want to start a shyan blog but I’m so scared because I don’t know how Shane and Ryan actually feel about it which makes me nervoussssssss help
Ohhh boy, brace yourself, nonnyhunny. I’ve got some word vomit for ya
To start off with, I just want anyone and everyone who is currently new to navigating this terrain we call the internet to know one thing and that is this one very important concept. Embrace your own insignificance! The internet is a big place. I once read a post on here that encouraged new users to think of Tumblr itself like you’re walking into a Walmart. You’re not here to make friends and you’re not here to shop for everyone else; you’re filling your own cart with the things you need and like and if someone comes along and takes a long good look at the things in your cart and says, “WOAH there, eating trans fats is unhealthy for you! I never eat trans fats because of a big list of reasons! Stop buying trans fats!!” you’re gonna be both puzzled and annoyed because it’s your cart, your Walmart experience; why the hell do they care what you’re gonna get?
However! I get it, the internet is now comprised of six different websites/apps and if you’re on there, there is no way to avoid or curate a completely ideal sense that you’ve made a space that’s all your own. There are going to be people who disagree with you, people who decide they don’t like what you do, but ultimately, in the midst of all that, you’re going to find people who feel the same in whatever regard you express yourself and that’s why it’s important to just express yourself because otherwise you’re going to develop a lot of disingenuous connections with people who would likely try to ruin your life if you disagree with them on some subject or other.
Now with that whole disclaimer in mind, I also understand where you’re coming from. Putting myself in the shoes of someone just trying to participate in a new fandom where there is a lot of contention among the masses about the rights and wrongs of RPF and whether the concept fits in with a philosophical debate about human nature and the way we interact with each other, witness each other’s journeys. That’s simply it, however; it’s an ongoing debate and where philosophy and debate are concerned, I always hold the belief that an individual’s right to ground themselves and say “These are the principles I wish to abide by” is sacred and ultimately, no amount of anonymous hatred or shrieking messages of outrage is gonna change that until you yourself decide that the principle isn’t working for you personally. My principle is that it’s fiction; an AU to explore as valid and sweet to me as demon!Shane headcanons are, but moreso because I identify with queer love stories and friendships forged by strangely deep similarities and complementing souls. I also love personalities like theirs, love the idea of said friendship and what it would bring to a story about two human beings who meet by happenstance and end up building something world-changing together. Still, because I am just a writer and a consumer of media, that’s the nicest thing I can give myself, a fictional account of these things while witnessing the real version happen in parallel. I get to celebrate in the overlap of similarities the real world and my fictional account take and watch it inspire my friends and mutuals to build their own universes and it’s beautiful. 
With that point being made, I also understand the reason a lot of people are nervous about being open about shipping. The backlash from a bunch of strangers seems to take on a note that would make even the nicest person sound like a puritan about to hold some extravagant witch trials. Nothing more interesting than a person claiming to do good in the world using words like “exterminate” “cleanse” or my personal favourite “purge”. I’ve read rumours being spread about shippers that take on their own life especially because it’s human nature to let other people handle the research; it’s human nature to just take a believable narrative at face value. One rumour being that shippers of this fandom write stories where we kill off Shane and Ryan’s significant others. Myself and my friends who are avid readers of the ao3 tag know that that hasn’t been the case since 2016/17 and by all accounts, I have yet to find the fic where this happens (barring a tinsworth fic I’ve only heard about). Mind you, not many of us check out Wattpad but even there it’s more self-insert friendly with themes I can’t even stomach. 
Which leads me to the last point and the main reason you sent this ask, I’m assuming. Ryan and Shane’s personal thoughts on the issue. Now, it behooves me to supply screenshots and proof when I make a claim but let’s consider if instead from the perspective of two adult men who have operated online far longer than a lot of their audience. Given that I am the same age as Shane, I know what the internet used to look like and how far it’s come and RPF is not a brand new thing neither did it pop up out of nowhere when One Direction debuted. And just like fanfiction in and of itself had its pushback from media because of its demographic and absolutely because of its queer-leanings, RPF appears to get a lot of that same energy, but it’s not an inherently toxic past time. Much like any fandom activity, it can get bad because fandom is not a monolith; it’s a bunch of individuals enjoying a medium in the ways they have learned to. You’re gonna get some individuals who “do it wrong” and some who do it differently, but ultimately, just like the forums and the reddit threads Shane and Ryan trawl in their past time, there are circles you learn not to veer into and terms you learn to blacklist/block/mute. With that being an indication of where they’re coming from as internet creators, I am confident when I say that, as long as it’s not being mailed to them, linked or quoted at them, they don’t care. They would know something that gets popular on the internet summons a brand of transformative art and fiction but much like they tend to ignore thirst tweets in their mentions or the repetitive requests for the same things over and over. They’d see it and gloss right over it. Shane is the type who writes long essays on reddit addressing the things that bother him, Ryan is weird and vocal and an oversharer sometimes when it comes to things Shaniacs say to him (i.e. that Voice he did for the occasional Shaniac who approaches him). It’s just one of the incarnations of fandom that they choose not to engage with, which, good? Because it’s a fan-specific activity. Once in a while you get a creator who wants to interact with fanfiction and it goes sideways because not all stories are written for them, much like not all fanart is made with the mindset to share with them. 
It’s just a regular old fan interaction and community habit that builds bigger followings. 
All in all, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Unless you mean to be in their @’s all the time or link them on discord, or put any of your content in their hands, they are not going to see it. They don’t care. What they do care about is that you’re watching, that you support them and send them encouragement because they’re creating their own medium of content and a bigger following means more people get to see it and extract something positive from it.  
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vikingpoteto · 4 years
Text
we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)
Chapter 6 on AO3
______________________
Relationships:  (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit
Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.
________________________
Normalcy.
Tim doesn’t quite know what that concept entails. Once, it meant taking care of himself in a big house, making sure no one knew how much time he actually spent alone. Another time, it meant solving problems, training hard and answering questions, juggling a double life. Then, leading a team of people who trusted him and whom he failed time and time again. Finally, for a brief period of time, normalcy was running against time to solve an impossible puzzle and being a triple agent.
And now… now he isn’t sure anymore.
It’s a sunny Saturday morning when he wakes up and squints at the window. He wonders how beaten he must’ve been to forget to close the blinds. He scratches his belly and sniffles because less than a few hours ago Ivy freaking bombed a warehouse with allergenic pollen, which was really uncool of her. She didn’t even bother to give them a heads up. She did apologize and gave them an antidote before they parted ways, but… still. Tim wonders if it was less effective on him because… you know.
He lifts his shirt enough to check on the scar. It’s healing well, in spite of everything. He doesn’t bother changing out of his sleeping clothes before going upstairs. Judging by the sun outside, it can’t be later than 11 am, which means…
Ah, yes. Just like he expected: normalcy now means getting out of bed late in the weekend and being greeted by the strong scent of tea, because Jason is a heathen. When Tim stumbles his way to the kitchen, he finds the now familiar sight of Jason in his favorite green hoodie, a mug of tea in his hand, and his nose buried in a heavy looking novel.
“Morning,” Tim mumbles, already searching the cabinets for coffee.
“Food,” Jason orders in lieu of a greeting.
Tim mouths the word food while pulling a face, but obediently grabs a piece of toast from the table. Bickering with Jason over mundane things is part of his routine now, but there are certain things the older boy is absolutely inflexible about. Part of normalcy now means knowing Jason will leave food for Tim and fighting him on whether he wants to eat is pointless. Tim bites into the toast as he prepares his coffee.
“Ivy’s thing worked for you?” Jason asks without raising his gaze from his book.
“Hm-hum,” Tim nods. He’s still sniffling, but it’s true that he felt instantaneous relief when he swallowed the antidote last night. “You good too?”
“Yeah. Still, I can’t believe you just took it when she handed it to you,” Jason puts down his book and glares at Tim.
Tim sits on the counter and shrugs. “If she wanted to kill us, she could’ve left us coughing our lungs out like the rest of the guys in the warehouse.”
“You have trust issues in the most fucked up way, kid.”
“Hey, I happen to trust people who deserve trust,” Tim protests. “It’s not like I would take something from the Penguin. Ivy is pretty chill if you’re not littering or dumping waste in rivers.”
“You have a crush on her or something?” Jason teases.
Tim rolls his eyes but focuses on chewing his toast rather than giving him an answer. Jason takes that as he wants, and snickers, like the idiot he is.
This is normalcy now. Having breakfast in the old kitchen and talking about mundane crap - or at least mundane for them - and it feels… Odd. Tim can’t quite explain it. It isn’t like eating alone in Drake manor. It isn’t like making a mess in Titans Tower - the closest place he ever had to a home - because even there he felt like he had to set an example somehow, to keep everyone in check. It isn’t like awkwardly joining Alfred in the morning, still feeling like Bruce only thought he had to adopt him considering the circumstances.
All in all, this new normalcy doesn’t feel like any Tim had felt before. He doesn’t dislike it.
“I’m probably going to finish the adjustments to your computer system today,” Tim informs him. “I can’t believe we’re finally leaving the stone age.”
“Shut up,” Jason tosses another piece of toast at him. “Also you can stop calling it mine. I hate it and I don’t know how to use it after everything you did to it. The computer is all yours.”
Tim catches the toast and grins around his first bite. “Ooh, look at me, I’m Red Hood, I’m tough and scary, but technology is cursed, Alan Turing was a witch-”
Jason stands. Tim is sure he’s about to either mess up his hair or put Tim in a headlock until he begs for forgiveness, even though he can see the hint of a smile twisting Jason’s lips upwards. Before a wrestling match starts, however, Jason freezes.
“Do you hear that?” he whispers.
Tim listens. He can hear nothing other than distant sirens. Burnley isn’t one of the worst districts in Gotham, but they’re too close to Crime Alley. These streets don’t get a lot of traffic. Not this early in the day, anyway.
Rather than explaining himself, Jason visibly shifts into Red Hood: his shoulders square up and he sets his jaw in a challenging scowl.
“Someone just parked on our driveway.”
Tim’s eyes widen. Could it be that they’ve been found out already? He made sure that the henchmen they got were too distracted by Ivy to notice them, but perhaps he had missed something. Part of him wants to go upstairs and grab his staff - even if that would be a stupid thing to do because he can’t exactly fight Dick into forgetting he lied to him.
Tim follows Jason to the entrance as he is, in his stupid oversized Superboy sweater and with toast crumbles all over his pants. He hadn’t even had his coffee. He peeks through the boards on the window and his stomach drops.
“It isn’t Dick,” he says. “It’s worse.”
Jason reads the worry in Tim’s eyes and lets out a curse. Technically, all the doors to the house are sealed. The only entrance is a block away and it leads to the basement/Red Hood bunker. Jason, however, seems to forget that and grabs the door handle angrily. Tim cringes when he hears the sound of frail wood being ripped because it means Jason’s strength is out of control - which means he’s getting near pit rage.
“How the fuck did you find us?” he barks from the porch.
Barbara Gordon is still adjusting herself in her wheelchair. The icy glare she gives Jason shows that she isn’t impressed by his fury.
Foreseeing disaster, Tim rushes out to put himself between Jason and Barbara. “It’s fine, let me talk to her!”
Jason glares at him. Although there’s a prominent vein pulsing on his brow and there’s definitely a hint of green in his eyes, he grits his teeth and stops. Tim sighs in relief before turning to Babs:
“Damian saw us, didn’t he?” he asks.
“What the hell does the brat have to do with this?” Jason hisses.
“Logic,” Tim shrugs. “I’ve been taking care of our digital trail. If Babs knows about us, it means one of the heroes under her watch saw us. Cass is in Hong Kong. Steph and Dick would’ve confronted us right away. The only option left is Damian.”
Jason groans and his eyes have mostly returned to their usual shade of brown. Tim had somehow annoyed him into calming down, which is a skill he’s getting better at every day. Tim smiles a little.
“Well,” Barbara says, her voice sharp. “You thought no one was going to notice two extra vigilantes running around?”
“Not forever, no,” Tim admits, trying to sound apologetic. "We wanted to be left on our own for as long as we could, though. We don’t need external interference.”
At that, Barbara looks scandalized. “Absolutely wrong. Get me a freaking ramp or get down here, Timothy, I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”
Jason lets out an annoyed huff, to which Tim glares at him. He has no business getting mad at Barbara for threatening them when he promises to beat Tim up at least three times a day. Five, if it’s not a school day.
“Why don’t we postpone the violence,” Tim suggests, his eyes not leaving Jason’s, “and just… have a chat? Inside? Jason just made tea.”
An annoyed grunt is all the response Jason gives him before making his way back inside.  He doesn’t slam the door behind him, which is as good as a yes. Tim rolls his eyes before climbing down the steps to help Barbara up the porch.
“By the way, how did you find our address?” he asks.
“Tim, please,” she huffs. “After I saw the footage from Damian’s bodycam, all I had to do was track your online footprint. You think I couldn’t notice the upgrades you’ve been making?”
That’s fair, and Tim should’ve predicted that possibility. Granted, if no one had seen them, Barbara wouldn’t know there was something to track.
He pushes her wheelchair to the living room where Jason is waiting for them. The older boy is sitting on their crappy couch with his knees spread out and his fingers steepled. It would’ve been an impressive crime lord pose to welcome someone if his green hoodie wasn’t sprinkled with toast crumbs.
Not that Barbara is that easy to intimidate.
“So what the hell happened?” She demands. “You left that night and went to meet the guy that almost killed you and two of your brothers?”
That stings. Barbara wasn’t there that night. Tim wonders if things would’ve been any different if she had been. Would she have listened to his theory or just called him crazy as Dick and Cassie had?
Well. All in all, he knew Barbara would always be there for Dick first. He never blamed her for that, because her partnership with Dick was far deeper than any impact Tim could’ve made in her life. He takes a seat by Jason’s side, farther from her.
“Damian also tried to kill me,” Tim reminds her. “And Dick fired me right after Jason offered me a job. Between the attempted murder and no job, and the same but with a gig...”
She takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“That freaking idiot,” she mutters to herself. Then, raising her gaze to meet Tim’s: “He didn’t mean to fire you.”
Tim clenches his teeth. “It sure seemed like it when I woke up and saw Damian wearing my old costume,” he snaps.
He feels Jason whipping his head towards him, and he curses himself. He had never revealed the gritty details of his dismissal for a reason. He reminds himself that Dick gave him Robin and it was his right to take it away, he has no reason to be this angry. That only serves to make him more bitter, though.
“I’m not saying Dick wasn’t stupid,” Barbara continues, her brow furrowing. “I already had some words with him about it. It doesn’t mean it was okay for you to just vanish for months, Tim. And then you’re back and you don’t talk to anyone. Not even Steph? Me?”
“Oh, fuck right off,” Jason snaps.
Barbara goes stiff. Tim groans, because now he has to push his anger further away to be able to stop the two of them. Before he can say anything, Jason continues:
“You’re talking as if I fucking kidnapped him. You know damn well how capable he is,” he barks. “The kid made a choice. I swear to fuck, everyone‘s a critic…”
Barbara opens her mouth but closes it again without saying anything. She presses her lips into a tight line. It isn’t often you see Oracle at a loss for words. For the first time, she looks at Jason without any animosity, her thoughts bare in her eyes. Unlike the boys, Barbara doesn’t play games. She doesn’t hide her emotions on purpose. The longing in her eyes is almost palpable, as though she’s seeing a dear relative she lost a long time ago, and she can’t reach them.
“What are you two thinking?” She asks. “What are you doing?”
“What we do best,” Tim says simply. “Vigilante work.”
“You told Dick you retired,” Barbara points out. “Then you ghosted him. He keeps waiting for you to come back.”
“He likes to do that,” Jason says. Now his voice is barely a whisper. “He says he’ll be there if you need him. Who says we need him, though?”
Barbara hesitates. “I told… Never mind. Just… I’m glad you’re back, Tim. And I’m glad you’re not dead again, Jason.”
Tim smiles. Jason looks like he wants to glance around to make sure she’s not talking to someone else. When it becomes clear she isn’t, he somehow looks even more uncomfortable.
“So,” he starts. “What now?”
“We fight for Tim’s custody, obviously,” Barbara smiles.
The peaceful moment ends when Tim and Jason start protesting out loud over one another. Barbara giggles at the cacophony of half-words, something along the lines of fuck off, not a child get your own damn kid responsible for myself-
“I’m joking!” She shouts to be heard over their complaints. “Jesus, you boys get riled up so easily.”
“I’m not a boy,” Tim and Jason say at the same time.
They glare at each other. Barbara rolls her eyes.
“Now,” she continues as though they didn’t interrupt her, “let me see your work, Tim. I’m going to give you guys a free upgrade.”
“Like hell you are,” Jason says. “How do we know you’re not spying on us for Dick?”
She arches an eyebrow. “Funny. I thought you two were fighting rogues, not Batman. Why would Dick want to spy on you?”
“Because he’s a meddler and he doesn’t trust me,” Jason states as though it’s a fact.
“To be fair, you did try to kill Tim. And Damian. And Dick,” she retorts. Before Jason can say anything back, she raises a hand to ask for patience. “It doesn’t matter to me, though. Barbara Gordon is Dick Grayson’s best friend and partner. Oracle, however, is an ally to anyone trying to protect Gotham. I’ll help you two like I help Batman, the Birds of Prey, and even Batgirl.”
Jason frowns. “I thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong.”
“Well,” Tim scratches his own nape, feeling suddenly guilty. “Actually… there might be a new Batgirl in town.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it!” Tim says. “I swear it just slipped my mind with everything else I had to report!”
Jason looks like he wants to grab a cushion and smother Tim to death. Before he can do as much, Barbara clears her throat loudly and says:
“Anyway… Support. I don’t talk about the vigilantes under my watch. Not to Batgirl. Not to Batman.”
Jason crosses his arms and leans back against the couch, his brow furrowed. Tim fights the urge to pat away the crumbs from his hoodie and waits patiently. Technically, this is Jason’s operation and he’s the one calling the shots. Tim has his own opinions, but in the end, a sidekick is supposed to follow orders.
Then Jason turns to Tim. “Replacement?”
He… does he want Tim’s opinion?
“I trust Barbara,” Tim says without hesitation. “And having Oracle’s help is going to be a game-changer.”
Jason considers that for a moment. It’s clear that he isn’t happy about the conclusions he’s drawing but, in the end, he sighs in defeat.
“Fine,” Jason says. “But if you tattle about what we’re doing, you’re gonna regret it.”
“Why, gee, Jason, how kind of you to allow me to help you guys,” Barbara snaps.
The two of them start bickering, but Tim tunes them out for a moment. It isn’t like Bruce and Dick never asked him for his opinion. They did. A lot. He simply hadn’t expected Jason to do the same. And so openly too. Bruce liked to pretend Tim’s input was but a piece to a puzzle he was assembling by himself. It seems like Jason isn’t above taking Tim’s words at face value and explicitly showing that he was part of the decision making.
It’s… nice. Not quite like being a sidekick, but not like having a whole team depending on him alone. Tim decides he likes this.
“Alright, alright, enough,” he says, standing up. “Come on, Babs, let me show you our office. Do you want some tea?”
“Anything but Earl Grey,” she says, allowing Tim to push her wheelchair towards the kitchen. “Don’t tell Alfred.”
“Wha… Does that make me the cook?” Jason complains.
Tim gives him a pointed look. “Do you wanna help her with the computer instead?”
Jason starts grumbling and cursing under his breath, but he still starts looking for something in the cupboards.
Unlike the Batcave, the secret entrance to the basement isn’t very fancy: just a couple of tiles that can be removed and a ladder. Tim helps Barbara out of her chair and she climbs down on her own. He has to admire her core strength. A little juggling with the folded chair later, he joins her and helps her to the seat again.
As soon as she’s comfortable, rather than rolling straight to the computer, she wraps her arms around Tim a little tighter. Surprised, but not much, he hugs her back.
“I missed you,” she whispers. “I’m so, so glad you’re back.”
Tim squeezes her. He always loved Barbara’s hugs. He doesn’t say anything, though, because he doesn’t think he can. There’s a knot in his throat stopping any sound from coming out. He tightens the embrace a little more and hopes she knows what he means without him needing to say anything.
Barbara pulls back first, her expression somber. “Jason looks better.”
“He is,” Tim assures.
“Still… I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Tim says and there’s not a hint of doubt in his voice. “I… I guess I understand why he did what he did. And Jason is a hero too, Babs. I didn’t forget that, even if some of you did.”
She presses her lips into a tight line and at first, Tim thinks it’s due to the implied accusation. Then something clicks, and he thinks it must’ve been because he referred to the Batfamily as ‘some of you’. For a while, he refused to think of himself as an outsider - he was Timothy Wayne after all - but, at some point, it seems like he started accepting he might not be one of them anymore. It still stings.
However, he also realizes he can live with that. Maybe it’s because of how easy it’d been to get used to Jason, to this new normalcy that feels truly normal after so little time. Tim may have left, but it isn’t Red Robin and them. It’s us and them. And, if everything goes according to his plans, they’re soon going to be at least on the same side.
For now, it’s enough.
There was a time in Tim’s life when he didn’t mind making small talk. His mother drilled into his head that he was supposed to be pleasant and polite and that there’d be consequences if he embarrassed his father in front of his associates. Timothy could lose a whole week of his allowance for chewing with his mouth open during a business dinner. It was more about the inconvenience of being scolded than the punishment, really, but Tim learned pretty fast that being sociable and polite was easier.
It’s been a long time, though. Tim’s lost his touch. Or so it feels when he’s unable to shake off one of his annoying classmates.
“...and then you could totally join us this weekend for the tennis tournament,” she says.
Tim refrains from sighing. He thought all of his classmates had been warned not to mingle with that Drake kid. Even if he was Bruce Wayne’s newest charity case, he slept through most of the classes and talked back to the teachers. Unfortunately, Laney Gonzalez didn’t get the memo.
“I don’t think I should,” Tim says tiredly. “I’m not great at any sports, really.”
“Pff, like I’d believe you!” Laney chuckles and latches onto his arm, squeezing his biceps. “You think we can’t tell how muscular you are under this hideous uniform?”
For fuck’s sake. “No, really,” he tries again, gently prying his arm away with an awkward chuckle. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
Go to school, Tim, Jason said. You need an education, Tim. Why doesn’t Jason get an education? Then he could hang back after class, even though there are better things to do because Laney freaking Gonzalez decided it was a good idea to make friends with the weird kid. Tim’s attempts to reach the gates seem to go unnoticed by the girl.
“Come on, Tim,” she insists. “You never join us when we do class stuff. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to play or anything, just… hang out a bit?”
What is a polite way to say I’d rather get into a fistfight with Killer Croc , Tim wonders?
He’s about to make up a family emergency - is she going to notice that his phone didn’t buzz at all? - when he notices a small commotion near the exit. A group of students is eyeing the street curiously, and even the ones leaving are taking another glance at… something. Worried, he lets Laney’s speech about friendships in high school fly over his head, and he moves a bit faster. If something big happened while he was in history class, he’s going to freaking kill…
Jason.
Tim stops dead on his tracks because the thing his fellow schoolmates keep glancing at is none other than Jason Todd himself in all of his glory. He’s leaning against the biggest motorcycle Tim had ever seen and wearing his favorite black leather jacket. Tim is already considering the fastest way to kill himself even before Jason’s face splits into a wicked grin and he opens his arms.
“Timbers! Fancy seeing you here!” He says, no , shouts.
Kids in and out of the schoolyard follow Jason’s gaze and find Tim burying his face in his hands.
“Uh…” Laney is now keeping her distance for once. “You know him?”
Tim is already stomping towards Jason.
“What are you doing here?” He hisses.
Still smiling, Jason hands him a yellow helmet. “Picking you up. Not happy to see me?”
“What if Dick sees you?” Tim protests.
Behind him, someone gasps. Tim turns around and curses when he realizes Laney followed him and thought it was okay to listen to a private conversation.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I should’ve noticed it! For the record, I wasn’t hitting on you, if that’s why you kept refusing. I really just want to be friends.”
Jason looks vaguely amused.
Tim frowns. “What?”
“That’s your boyfriend, I assume?”
“No!” Tim hears himself shouting. “He’s my brother!”
Laney has dark skin, but Tim still notices the way her cheeks go a shade darker. “Oh gosh, is that right? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you had any brothers other than Dick and Damian!”
Tim wants to die so bad.
“Actually,” Jason says, voice soft, dropping an arm around Tim’s shoulders, “I’m a bit of a family secret, so don’t go tweeting Vicki Vale about it, will you? We’ll know if you babble.”
Scratch that. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to kill Jason.
Laney nods hurriedly and makes a hushed promise to keep the secret. She mumbles something about texting Tim later - Tim is sure that she doesn’t have his number - and half-jogs away from them, her ponytail bobbing behind her. Well, that takes care of that. Laney Gonzalez is probably never going to speak to him again.
He turns around and punches Jason’s arm. “What the fuck was that?”
“I have a lead on that case from last night,” Jason hops on the bike. “Get on, loser, we’re going crime fighting.”
“We had a plan. You think Dick won’t notice you’re picking me up from school?” Tim complains. He’s already climbing the bike behind Jason, though.
“Tim, what did I tell you about plans again?”
Tim sighs as he puts the helmet on. He rests his forehead against Jason’s back as though he doesn’t even have the strength to sit up straight anymore. Make a plan. The plan goes wrong. Throw it away.
“Besides, Barbara knows. The Gremlin knows. It’s just a matter of time before we have Bitchard and Brat Girl on our asses.”
He starts the bike before Tim is ready, but Tim makes a point of looping his arms around his waist and swallowing a startled yelp when they go from zero to very fast.
It isn’t until they’re several blocks away from Gotham Academy that Tim fully understands what he’d just done. He told a random classmate he had an extra brother. He told her Jason was his brother. He briefly considers letting go of Jason’s waist and letting himself fall into the asphalt.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself. “I’m sorry.”
Jason eyes back briefly before turning his attention back to the street. Between the helmet and the speed, Tim didn’t catch even a glance of his expression, but he can picture it just fine. It’s been barely three weeks since they started living together, but this is normal for him now. He knows Jason’s mildly intrigued face just as well as his own.
“For what?” Jason asks.
“For saying you’re my brother. I panicked.”
Again, he remembers the early days at Wayne manor. Bruce had sworn off adoptions and Tim could only stay after he promised that wouldn’t be an issue.  Hell, Tim tried to keep his word even after his dad died, and yet…
Jason mumbles something that gets lost over the wind.
“What?”
“I said whatever, man!” Jason snaps. “I don’t think adoption expires after death. Technically we are brothers.”
Tim doesn’t say anything. He should know better than to keep making the same mistake.
But isn’t going after Jason a recurrent mistake in itself anyway?
“It’s better like this, to be honest,” Jason says. “It’d be weird to be living with a random minor, I guess.”
It’s basically an automatic response at this point: “You’re two years older than me.”
“I’m legally an adult. You’re not,” Jason reminds him.
“You’re legally dead, actually,” Tim points.
Jason barks out a burst of laughter. “Look at you, Timmy, saying such mean things. Am I a bad influence on you?”
“Now, that tone is creepy. Drop it or I’ll make us crash. You know I have no regard for my own safety.”
Tim is definitely doing that talking without thinking thing again.
“Ugh, don’t I know it,” Jason groans. “Should’ve considered that before taking a fucking kamikaze as my partner.”
Tim perks up. “Hey…!”
“You’re not allowed to name yourself Kamikaze,” Jason cuts him off. “First, that would probably be racist, and second, because you’re not naming yourself after suicidal pilots. You chose Red Robin. No takesie backsies.”
“Fine, mom,” Tim pouts.
Jason speeds up and Tim takes that as his cue to pretend the purr of the engine is too loud for them to talk.
For once in his life, Tim decides to really throw the plan away and see where this goes. This is just his new routine and Tim is nothing if not adaptable.
The case should be simple enough: someone had destroyed an underground casino and killed the bosses responsible for keeping the place running. All of the workers had been spared. They would consider it an everyday case if the same thing hadn’t happened again somewhere near the Narrows. The two places didn’t have anything in common other than the business they ran - gambling, prostitution… the works.
Tim spent hours thinking of a personal motive and so far he had discarded personal vendetta and random coincidence. The methods didn’t match one of the rogues they knew and, although he didn’t say it out loud, Tim feared they had another Red Hood like vigilante in their hands.
When Red Hood and Red Robin come out that night, they’re following one of Hood’s hunches.
“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Red mumbles.
“I still think I could’ve done this alone,” Hood mocks in a high-pitched voice.
Red Robin glares at him and, even in the dirty dark alley, Hood doesn’t miss it. He sighs.
“Do you trust Oracle or not?” He sighs.
“Of course I do,” the boy mumbles. “Still, it would be more efficient…”
“To split up and have each of us cover a place. We’ve been over this. Oracle said she’d make sure the other place is closed for the night. If I’m right - and I usually am - our guy is gonna attack here.”
Red rolls his eyes but decides not to argue any further. He’s pretty sure this is punishment for forcing Hood to accept Oracle’s help, by keeping him close and refusing to let him do part of the job alone. Alas. Let Hood be petty for now. He’ll learn soon enough that having Oracle backing you up is too good of an opportunity to pass up.
However, now that he thinks about it, Red Robin hasn’t done anything big alone since his debut. Patrolling and stopping random muggins is one thing, but the attack on Black Mask’s warehouses? The bust of the big drug traffic operation at the harbor? This odd murder case? In all of these high profile cases, Hood demanded that he and Red Robin attacked together.
He makes a mental note to think about the possible meaning of that later. Right now he has to focus on finding suspicious activity, which is surprisingly hard. Once they’re at the strategic point Red Robin picked and getting set for the stakeout, Hood seems to have similar thoughts, because he comments:
“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, huh?”
Red sighs. “We’re not breaking into their office. We can’t risk spooking the murderer.”
The older boy shrugs and they settle down to wait.
This is a part of the job Red Robin was oddly fond of. There’s something about just sitting on a roof and waiting that is calming to him. He loved the adventure and solving mysteries and fighting bad guys and the thrill. That being said, there was something satisfying about taking your time and waiting to act. Just them too high up to be seen, the only witnesses being the cold night air and the certainty that they’re doing something good and saving innocents.
Tim wondered if it was fucked up of him to love this so much. He’s been in contact with the ugliest parts of humanity since he was a little boy, after all. After Cissie retired, he thought about it a lot. Like Cissie, he didn’t have special powers. He was just another boy that got himself into a crazy situation. Why couldn’t he be just another civilian, unaware of Gotham’s nightlife? Enjoy school, as Jason wanted him to? Live a long life, maybe die of old age?
Tim likes to think that the fact that he loves this so much means that he was made for this life.
“What do you think we’re facing tonight?” He asks.
Red Hood starts talking and Red Robin listens to him. Unlike Tim, Jason is all about instinct and passion. Whereas Tim collects clues and puts together theories, Jason understands the reasoning behind them and comes up with hunches that Tim couldn’t dream of. Red Robin loves to hear his hypothesis because it’s almost like having a book read out loud to you, and an enjoyable one at that.
He’s almost satisfied, all things considered.
Hood suddenly stops talking. As fast as lightning, he reaches into his holster and, before Red Robin even thinks of stopping him, Red Hood stands and points his gun at something - no, someone - right behind them. He pulls the trigger.
Red Robin opens his mouth in horror, but, rather than a lifeless body dropping to the ground he watches the invader dodge the bullet as though it’s nothing, almost gracefully. He reaches for his staff, but the invader is already running towards them again and Hood is getting about to take another shot. The invader’s cape flies behind them, dropping from their head and revealing... a familiar face.
Hood’s finger is already on the trigger and Red realizes this time she’ll have no time to dodge. Without thinking twice, he jumps between Red Hood and the woman.
“ TIMOTHY !” Hood barks, pointing the gun upwards.
“I know her!” Red Robin shouts at one of them. Maybe at both of them. “I know her! She’s my friend!”
The woman’s stopped as well. She’s looking at them with her head tilted to the side. Without minding Hood behind him, Red Robin faces her and takes in her appearance. She’s still bald. Still rocking all the scars - maybe she even has new ones? - and she’s still dressed like a grunge-rock singer from the late 90’s. He’d recognize her anywhere.
“Pru?” He confirms. “Prudence Wood?”
Her shoulders relax when she hears his voice. She reaches for something in her pocket - Hood gets tense again behind him - but all she grabs is a piece of paper. It’s crumpled and a bit dirty, as though she’s been walking around with it in her pocket for a while.
Without hesitation, Red takes it from her unresisting fingers and reads the words someone - presumably Pru herself - had hurriedly scribbled:
I knew this would get your attention, the paper says, I’m here to warn you. The Head of the Demon is coming after you.
And, just like that, Tim’s frail normalcy is gone.
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