#no food or expensive vases just stupid shit

[grimalkinmessor]

Kleptomaniac Light has my entire heart, you have no idea. Like,,,L steals shit as a kid with brute force because he likes to see people's reactions, but Light was definitely one of those kids who was sneaky sneaky and no one would realize he even took anything until they found him playing with it later.

And he always exclusively steals from other people and like, occasionally thrift stores. Stupid shit like pencils, CDs, books, knickknacks—he'll yoink your Grandmother's favorite porcelain cat while he's over for dinner and you'll never know because the next time you see it it'll be set on his bookshelf like it's always been there.

[cloakedsparrow]

The Batpups as Cat-Types

Upon coming to live with Bruce, Dick was like a fairly standard cat. He could alternate between cuddly darling and vindictive gremlin in the blink of an eye. One minute he’s snuggled next to Bruce while he reads the paper, the next, he’s holding eye contact while he pushes an expensive vase off a nearby table. He’ll be happily playing with one of the hundreds of cat-appropriate toys Bruce got him, then Bruce turns his back for five seconds and he’s somehow gotten himself perched atop the molding above the door. On top of this, Bruce had never owned a cat before so he did stupid new cat-owner shit like letting Dick wander around the neighborhood, where he caused tens of thousands of dollars in property damage and nearly got himself killed at least four times a day.

Jason was a loyal and completely domesticated house-cat who got tossed into the streets after his owner died. He adapted well for survival, but once he was brought indoors again, he was more than happy to curl up in a sunny spot and just vibe. He’d endured some trauma, so sudden loud noises or unknown individuals trying to pet him resulted in him hissing and darting under the nearest table or hiding behind the books on the shelves. Around those he trusted, however, he was a sweet, chill cat. Unfortunately, Bruce assumed all cats were gremlins like Dick, and that Jason would have the potential to be even worse due to being on the streets, and so responded as though Jason were a gremlin-cat whenever he did something unexpected. This led to a lot of misunderstandings and resentment.

Everyone assumed Tim was well domesticated due to living in a nice house before coming to them. In reality, he’d been taken away from his mother too soon and left alone in a huge house that he eventually discovered how to come and go from on his own. This meant that he was, in fact, a feral kitten who had just learned not to do certain things in front of people, lest they get angry at him. He did manage to meow and swat at Bruce until the man slept, ate, and bathed like a normal person, so Alfred and Dick didn’t feel too bad about their mistake in insisting Bruce bring the tiny feral beast into the house. He also made friends with a bunch of other feral kittens, so most of his feral shenanigans occurred with them, away from anything resembling responsible supervision.

Cassandra was a stray cat that followed Bruce home one day and then claimed the whole family as hers. She was good with them, but anyone else who tried to touch her (or the boys when it looked like they didn’t want it) pulled away a bleeding limb. Also, the family quickly learned that letting her food bowl go empty would result in her stealing any food left out, even a whole chicken or hamburger. She still caused less damage than Dick, so Bruce didn’t even bat an eye at half the shit she did. He did have to instill some long-forgotten survival instincts in her, though.

Damian was like that kitten in the Aristocats who paints but also hisses and spits and thinks himself a tough alley cat when he’s actually a pampered kitten. No one ever bothers to correct him and just generally ignores his more violent ways…or worse, thinks they’re cute. Tim gets sick of the little shit drawing his blood eventually and starts hissing back and swatting him whenever he tries it. Eventually, he calms down enough to do more painting and hissing than clawing, at least with the family. They call it a win and they all learn to live together.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Bridezilla Moments [Request]

BTS X Fem!Reader

Seokjin:

Everything was being moved around at the last minute and it was starting to give you a huge headache, Jin and you had decided to plan the entire wedding alone since it was something you'd dreamed of doing ever since you were a kid but now it was proving to be too much.

"We should have hired someone," You hissed as you looked over the seating arrangement, Jin was sat across from you at the table making small party favours - he was just putting chocolates into bags something you'd been doing for a couple of days now.

"You can do this baby, it's not that hard-"

"Not that hard?!" You snapped dropping the red highlighter you had been using and staring at him,

"Not hard he says! My auntie and Uncle can't sit next to one another because they're getting a divorce but then my auntie can't sit on my mother's table because they hate her," You scoffed throwing the folder onto the floor and running your hands through your hair as you finally broke down thanks to everyone telling you what to do, where to sit them and where not to sit them.

"I'm sick of it! The boys don't want to sit with anyone but each other, but then they want to be close to the bar but close to you!? What am I supposed to do? Move the bar? I'm done!" You yelled at him pushing the folder in his direction and getting up to leave the kitchen. He dropped the chocolate he was holding and followed after you trying to calm you down, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Babe, please...I'm sorry I was just trying to help-"

"I can't do it Jin, it's too much." You whimpered crying into his chest, this was supposed to be one of the most magical times of your life but you were spending it stressed out over everything happening.

"It's too much."

"We'll make it work," He bent down so he was eye level with you and so that you would look him in the eyes as he spoke to you.

"You sit people where you want them, if they don't like it they can come and talk to me and me alone. If they don't like that idea either then they can leave." He warned you as he kissed the top of your head, trying to calm you down as you laughed softly at the thought of your auntie demanding to be sat somewhere else to Jin. Jin didn't take any shit from anybody and it would be a sight to see.

"Come on, let's go and get you a bubble bath."

Yoongi:

Yoongi frowned when he saw his phone ringing, you were supposed to be at a dress fitting and yet here you were calling him up while he was at a suit fitting.

"Jagiya, what's wrong?" Instead of your voice answering him, he heard a scream before something smashed in the background, he got up from the chair thinking someone was in the house when he heard your best friend begin to speak to him for you.

"She's..She's freaking out a little bit." She admitted and Yoongi frowned looking at the time before he heard you screaming,

"How?! How can you mess it up that badly?!" He'd never heard you this mad about anything before, not even at him when you were in the middle of a fight again something.

"What happened? What's wrong?" He grabbed his keys and began rushing to get to you,

"They got the dress wrong, like...It's nothing that it's supposed to be and it's all ruined...I think you should get here, she won't talk to any of us." He hung up the phone and began rushing to get to the bridal shop as quickly as he could.

When he walked inside you were on the changing room floor crying into your hands about how wrong everything was,

"Jagiya?" You whimpered looking up to see him and sighing,

"It's wrong Yoongi, look at it." You whispered playing with the fabric of the dress as he got down onto his knees beside you, he knew it was nothing that you wanted. He'd seen then dress you'd ordered since it was something you both decided to pay for together,

"Can they fix it? Order a new one?" You shook your head, you knew you must have looked pathetic to everyone inside of the shop but the dress was identical to your grandmothers and it would have meant so much to have worn it down the aisle.

"It won't come in time," You whispered wiping your eyes as you looked up at him, he sighed laying your head on his chest,

"You know you could walk down that aisle in a bin bag and I would marry you, right?" You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to make you see that wearing a different dress wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

"But I-"

"I know you wanted the dream dress," He cut you off since he knew what you were going to say,

"But you don't need it, all that matters is that you and I get married right?" You nodded in agreement with him, that was the endgame. Married life with Yoongi, dress or no dress you were going to marry the love of your life.

Hoseok:

Hoseok showed you yet another thing that was wrong with the wedding plans, you felt so defeated at this point. You'd done nothing but fight back against everything your mother was doing for the wedding that it was starting to make you want to run off and get eloped with Hoseok. Somewhere far away, where no one would be able to put their input into your wedding because that's what it was, it was supposed to be your wedding and yet here you were. Your mother taking over everything she could because she never got to get married and never got the way she wanted it.

"You have to do something Y/n." He whispered frowning as he looked at the charges your mother was making to your card, you'd been saving up since you had your first ever job and everything was being drained far too quickly.

"Do you even want a..." He paused to read what it was from the invoice sheet,

"Horse-drawn carriage." Your mouth fell open as you looked at the charge it was more expensive than everything on the sheet, it was more expensive than your dress.

"Hobi no...I just-"

"You need to stop her from doing all of this,"

"You don't think I've tried?!" You snapped at him putting down the highlighter you were using to highlight things she's bought that you were returning,

"You don't think I've sat there while she's telling me I need all of these things when I don't?!" You whimpered finally giving up on everything at this point. It was a losing battle with everyone telling you what you did and didn't want at the wedding.

"She's making this a nightmare! I'm sick of everyone telling me what I should and shouldn't do!" You snapped at him falling down onto your knees and sobbing into your hands as you thought about the wedding being nothing like what you wanted and everything your mother wanted instead.

"I'll talk to her...I'll explain everything baby," He whispered rubbing your lower back as you began to cry into his chest about everything that was wrong with the wedding and how you never wanted any of the things she was asking for and buying with your money.

"I'll make sure she understands, I'll speak to her." He whispered kissing the top of your head and trying to reassure you as best as he could that everything would be fine and that he would work everything out as soon as he could.

Namjoon:

The moment your bridesmaids walked out in front of you in the changing room you began sobbing, they'd all picked their own dresses for the wedding and hadn't shown you anything until today, the big day and now you were sobbing.

"Someone get Namjoon." Your maid of honour ordered looking at them as they all rushed to get Namjoon, you weren't in your dress yet you'd been waiting until the final moment to put it on so that you could get fewer wrinkles in it before it was photographed later.

"Jagiya, why are you crying?" That was when all of the bridesmaids stood in place again and he realised what the problem was, all of them were in different colours and different types of dresses instead of one that would make them look a part of the wedding.

"I gave them the colour and length they needed!" You whimpered at him and he held you tightly as you began yelling loudly, he knew it was best for him to keep quiet while you ranted at the girls for being like this,

"Babe, it's an easy mistake," He tried to tell you once they left the room but you snapped,

"My whole wedding day is ruined Namjoon, they can't be in any of the photos with the boys because they won't match, they don't match their flowers...How could I have been so stupid to trust them with this?!" You turned around to go behind the changing screen but knocked over a vase in the process which made you cry harder.

"Babe," Namjoon warned and you stopped looking down at the vase and then at him,

"I'm sorry-" Your voice muffled as he brought you into a calming hug rubbing your lower back and telling you that everything was fine, you didn't need to react like this.

"The only thing that matters is us, right?" You nodded in agreement and he kissed the tip of your nose,

"I'll see you out there then." He kissed you softly and walked out of the room letting you have a minute before you turned to your maid of honor and nodded that you were ready to get changed and go get married.

Jimin:

You wrote down what you thought of the cake on a slip of paper while Jimin just stared down at his phone, this really hadn't been his idea of a fun day at all but he was stuck tasting small pieces of cake with you along with other bits of food.

"Babe? What did you think?" You questioned trying to get some insight on everything,

"It was good," He mumbled not tearing his eyes away from his phone, you had no idea what he was doing but the fact that he wasn't taking this seriously was starting to irritate you.

"Jimin...I need your help with this-"

"I trust you, whatever you think is good just pick it. It's just cake Y/n." He frowned when he heard a sob leave you mouth before you stood up to leave, walking out of the shop and in the direction of his car.

"Baby!? What's wrong!?" He panicked coming up behind you and turning you around to face him but you ignored him moving away from him so he couldn't see you crying like this,

"You don't care, do you? You don't even want to marry me, do you?!" He wondered where all over this was coming from, he was just eating cake with you and now you were accusing him of not wanting any of it.

"Of course, I want to marry you." He cooed trying to touch you but you moved away from his touch not wanting him to just brush this off,

"Ever since we started planning it's been like you don't care! You just want to get this over and done with as soon as possible." You hissed at him getting into the car and staring out of the window away from him but he got into the car and forced your head to look at him.

"That's not true, since the start of this wedding I've been working on getting your brother here in time," You frowned turning to look at him properly,

"What-"

"I know how much he means to you, so I've been working with him to get him here on time for the wedding, that's why I haven't been paying too much attention Jagiya, it was meant to be a surprise." He softly chuckled and you began tearing up at the thought of your brother coming to your wedding after him telling you he wouldn't be able to make it in time.

"Jimin I-"

"Sorry for going bridezilla on me?" You nodded and he chuckled kissing you and promising you that it was fine.

Taehyung:

"Y/n will walk down the aisle to the music and then we'll start the ceremony," The wedding planner said as she walked you down the centre of the aisle and up towards Taehyung who was standing at the alter laughing loudly with Jimin about something, you looked down at the floor as the wedding planner scoffed. Ever since she'd started planning with you she'd done nothing but mumble about how all of the boys were treating this as a joke, telling you it was wrong that they were laughing about everything when it was supposed to be a serious thing you were doing.

"What if we walked behind Y/n instead of her bridesmaids?! Make it special," Jimin jabbed but you lost it and snapped,

"Will you stop making this seem like a huge joke!? This is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life and you've done nothing but laugh ever since you found out." You snapped at both Taehyung and Jimin who were now silent and staring at you as you broke.

"You're behaving like two immature children. Taehyung we get married tomorrow and you've done nothing serious all day...Don't you want this?!" You yelled dropping the fake flowers into the planner's hands as she stared at you,

"Y/n what kind of question is that, of course, I want this and I'm taking this seriously it's just- We're bored, it's not like it's the real thing tonight." The moment the words left his mouth he knew it was the wrong thing to say, Jimin moved away from him and even the wedding planner moved away from you.

"What?! You're bored? What happens tomorrow when you're bored? You're just going to start dancing up and down on the aisle?" He rushed over to you taking your hands in his and staring into your eyes, repeating your name over and over again until you finally stopped ranting about it all.

"What?" You whispered looking at him as he shook his head at you,

"No, I know how serious this is Jagi...I'm sorry...I was just- I have no excuses. I'm sorry, from now on we will be 100% serious about this," He kissed the top of your head reassuring you that he would be serious this time and you nodded your head, apologising for being such a drama queen and then going back to the top of the aisle.

Jungkook:

It seemed like every minor detail was going to send you over the brink of no return and you had no control over it whatsoever, what was supposed to be a small and intimate wedding was turning into a huge show for the cameras what wasn't what you or Jungkook wanted. You wanted something simple and small with family and friends around you,

"I thought you said small," Jungkook sighed as he read through the guest list in his hand, you looked up from the flowers you were looking through and frowned.

"I did, you were the one who invited all of those people." You whispered as you looked over at the guest list he was holding, one of your best friends was helping you organise everything so you wouldn't have to stress so much but in return, you were stressing twice as much.

"Y/n no I didn't, why would I invite this many people when I wanted a small wedding?"

"Maybe because you love the limelight?! Maybe because since the first day we decided to start planning you've done nothing to help me with any kind of decisions at all?! And now your guest list is large because you invited too many people you're going to blame it all on me?!" Yelling wasn't probably the best solution for this right now but you were beyond pissed off, Jungkook had done nothing to help with the wedding and you and Sooyoung had done nothing but organise it all yourselves since the moment it all started.

"What are you even talking about? I don't know half of these people," Jungkook was doing his best to remain calm. He'd spoken to the boys about how girls could get with weddings, turning into monsters when things didn't go their way and whatnot.

"Well, I don't know them either..." You were calmer now you realised that neither of you knew who was who on the guestlist except for the ones that you had invited.

"You don't think Sooyoung would-"

"Invite a bunch of her friends to your wedding? Yes, I do think she would." He mumbled looking at the piece of paper some more and then down at your seating chart. She was in charge of things like that because she insisted you just think about looking good for the wedding and making sure you were ready for your dance instead.

"I'll call her." You whispered looking from the paper and up into his eyes, now that you looked at it from day one it seemed like she was trying to make the wedding her own and take over everything. She was married herself and you knew she never got the wedding she'd always dreamed off when you were kids so maybe she was trying to live it out through you but it didn't excuse any of this at all.

"You scared me for a second, I thought you were going to turn into a real bridezilla," Jungkook chuckled coming up behind you and kissing your lips softly.

Tagline: 

@snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 2.1k

warnings: swearing, anxiety, hitch…, gross couple stuff, fluffy in the beginning, angst toward the end

listen to the music masterlist

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Between band rehearsals and time at home, you were happier than you'd ever been. You and Mikasa were officially an item. Honestly, it was hard for you to believe.

Three full days and nothing had gone wrong. Maybe Hitch's threats were empty after all. Admittedly, you were a little worried she'd be right on your tail after you and Mikasa became official.

But there was no way she'd know, anyway. Only the rest of the band and your friend group knew about your new relationship.

Mikasa was never one to care about social media so the public not knowing for a little while wouldn't be a big deal.

You wanted the fans to be aware but you had to be sure you were clear of Hitch before you announced it. You wanted to be sure you'd completely shaken her off before taking to the socials.

Perhaps the scene at the restaurant really was her last stand. You hadn't heard from her since and you were too caught up in your own fear of her to reach out.

Her outburst was something you thought about in times when you weren't focused on your girlfriend.

You were actually a little worried about Hitch. What she said stunned you for sure but so many other things happened that night that you had barely even dwelled on it before you and Mikasa started dating.

It was easy to tell that every word she spoke came from a place rooted deeply within her. You never expected something like that from as calm a person as Hitch. Based on the way she escaped that night, neither did she.

After the kiss with Mikasa, you were too wrapped up in your own doubtful mind to even give Hitch a second thought.

Yet there you were, your thoughts consumed by her while you helped set up for Eren's party.

"Y/n!" Armin called from the floor. His voice was startling and you almost fell off the ladder he was holding.

"What, Armin?" You put a hand to your heart and steadied yourself by pressing your palm to the wall.

"Why are you taking ten years to tape streamers up? They don't even look good because you've got your head in the clouds! Just let me do it." They let out an annoyed huff and motioned for you to come down the ladder.

You obliged and held the ladder steady for Armin to climb up. They started fixing the streamers while mumbling an insult or two about how they were placed.

Eren was on the back porch attempting to put up string lights, which was usually Jean's job. Instead, he was on the phone with Niccolo, who so graciously offered to cater, at the kitchen counter. Mikasa was going around all the rooms and hiding expensive or prized possessions so nothing important got destroyed.

She then walked into the kitchen and sent you an affectionate smile while stacking away plates that used to belong to your grandparents.

You smiled back and took one hand off the ladder to grab hold of her arm before letting her walk to the fridge. Armin swatted your head. "Will you stop dilly-dallying? Hold the ladder steady!"

Jean made a silent gagging motion at you and Mikasa before turning back to the phone.

Although she was hiding her face in the fridge, you still noticed the hint of a smile on her face.

Armin smacked your head again. "I'm gonna get another head injury if you don't hold the ladder steady!"

"Christ, Armin. I got it, okay?" You gripped the ladder with both hands but fought the urge to tip it over. He really took decorating seriously.

Mikasa left the room after putting everything valuable into a closet and getting a drink.

Jean got off the phone after fifteen or so minutes and Eren came back inside to ask for help with the lights. Armin gladly halted his work with the streamers to go help him.

So you were back on decorating duty. You moved the ladder to another part of the kitchen to finish up with the streamers.

After everything was set up, the sun was beginning to set. It was around seven p.m.  People would be arriving soon so you all got dressed and ready for the party.

Sasha and Niccolo were the first people to arrive since they were the ones bringing all the food. Once they got done with putting the food out more people began to show.

First, it was the rest of your friend group. Then, it was people Eren knew but you didn't. Finally, it was so many random people that you lost track of them all.

It was now dark outside and your house was filled with people. Jean and Marco were at the front door as light security to make sure douchebags such as Floch didn't get in.  

The one time he did he broke a bunch of expensive vases. That's where the ritual of hiding valuable stuff came from. You could never be too careful at big parties like these.

Music was blaring through your house, making it impossible to hold a steady conversation with your girlfriend, who stood in front of you. 

Instead of talking, you both decided that dancing would be the better option.

What surprised you was when she started getting handsier with you as the songs progressed. She was never one for physical affection in places with lots of people so you were a little confused, but you didn't mind. 

"Guys! Reiner said he's gonna jump in the lake!" Eren shouted at you and Mikasa. He looked like he was out of breath.

"What?" you yelled back.

"The lake is fucking freezing! You can't swim in it this time of year or you'll straight up die! Holy shit- let me catch my breath. I just ran up the lawn and a flight of stairs. Fuck, I'm so out of shape!" He was still yelling since the music hadn't gotten any quieter. The stupid birthday cake hat on his head was slipping off. 

"Should we stop him?" Mikasa shouted. 

"Yes, we should fucking stop him! Everyone out there is cheering him on! The only reason he's held back is because Armin is stalling him! He's the only one down there with a little responsibility! God, Reiner is like a completely different person when he's drunk." Eren adjusted his hat and motioned for the two of you to follow him back downstairs.

You were about to follow him and Mikasa but you noticed a certain figure standing in the hallway, glaring at you. 

You thought this might've been over. You thought wrong. You'd recognize that glare anywhere.

Hitch had the nerve to show up at your best friend's birthday party knowing you'd be around. You guessed she hadn't known about you and Mikasa until a few minutes ago.

When she noticed your gaze, she abruptly turned to the left and walked into the kitchen.

"You guys go stop him, I'll stay back and monitor things while you're gone." You told your bandmates.

"You sure, Y/n?" Eren yelled again, already getting lost in the crowd.

"Yeah, go without me!"

He nodded and walked off with Mikasa trailing behind.

You felt like you were gonna be sick. You should've been more careful. You should've expected this.

You knew you were upset. You knew you were scared. But you knew you had to talk to Hitch before she talked to anyone else.

She looked angry when you approached her in a secluded hallway off of the kitchen that was luckily out of view from the rest of the party.

"I want to talk about Friday." Your voice came out surprisingly steady and for the first time that night, you could actually hear yourself speak.

She scoffed. "You wanna talk about Friday? I wanna talk about your new relationship. Do you seriously think I'm someone to mess with? Do you take me as a joke?"

"Hitch, I'm worried about you. What you said then, it was pretty heavy." You spoke calmly, trying not to provoke her.

Her glare faltered for a second but she quickly looked down and pretended to fix the wrinkles in her dress. "I lost my composure then. Don't worry about me. It won't happen again so don't ask about it." She looked at you again. "Y/n, why don't you tell me exactly what's going on with you and Mikasa?"

If Hitch wasn't going to crack, neither were you. "Nothing at all. We're only friends."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Because last I checked, friends don't dance like that."

"They can if they want."

She ignored your answer, not buying it, and changed the topic. "I bet you wonder where and how I get my answers to things. I have eyes everywhere. As long as I'm around here there's no escaping the truth."

You were trying very hard to keep up a wall of confidence but you knew it was falling fast. "I do wonder, actually. How did you even know she was coming back? Only two of my friends besides the band knew and they don't talk with you."

Then, she smiled. "Marlo's job has him working internationally. He was on a train before she came back. She was on it too. He overheard her on the phone with your friend Jean. I guess you could say he was in the right place at the right time."

You stumbled back in surprise. Of course something like that happened to her. What else could have?

She laughed at your reaction. "It's all too convenient! Just think about that, Y/n. You can never get rid of me, no matter how hard you try. I know what's going on with you two and everyone is going to know what happened with us."

She laughed again and any ounce of courage you had disappeared. Tears filled your eyes as you hurried away from her.

You hastily made your way through the sea of people and up the stairs. Jean and Marco looked up from the front door at the sudden noise of you running up the stairs. They called your name twice but didn't follow.

 You rushed down the hallway and into the bathroom. The door shut behind you. You dropped to the floor and let the welling tears fall.

You were overwhelmed and cried easily. Soon enough, everyone would know. How could you face them after what you did to Hitch? After they knew? 

A knocked sounded at the door after a few minutes of sitting and crying.

"Occupied," you said hoarsely.

"Y/n? Are you okay? Open the door. It's me. It’s Eren."

Damn, you were hoping no one else noticed. You figured Eren and the others would still be persuading Reiner out of stupidity. 

After a moment of hesitation, you opened the door and he came in. He sat on the floor in front of you as you leaned against the cabinets. 

"I saw you through that crowd. Jean said you came up here. Can you tell me what happened and if you're okay?" He rubbed your arm and pulled you in to hug him as he tried to help you calm down.

You hiccuped and sniffled into his shoulder, dampening the cloth of his shirt, but he didn't seem to care. "Take your time," he whispered.

You wiped at your eyes and pulled away from his embrace. "Eren, I did something so shitty in college."

posted: 9/29/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[thatsamericano]

Roses, Balloons, Chocolates, Wine, and a Custom Mix CD

Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. Background Gerita, appearances from Belgium and England.

Ratings: Teen, but only for cursing. Extremely fluffy with no warnings to speak of.

Summary: For Romano, Valentine’s Day is just another reminder that he’s alone and unloved. He doesn’t care that he has to spend time at a world meeting. But when a “secret admirer” surprises him with extravagant gifts they left at the chair he’d been using for the past few days, Romano realizes that he wasn’t as unloved as he had thought.

Word Count: 1987

Notes: Written for Day 7 of @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent.

Veneziano was pouting as he walked towards the conference room hand in hand with his boyfriend. His older brother trailing behind them and scowling. “England is so un-romantic,” Feli complained. “I can’t believe he’d schedule a meeting on Valentine’s Day of all days!”

Germany frowned thoughtfully. “Normally I would argue that these meetings are important for international cooperation on world issues affecting us all. But I was hoping to spend more time with you today, schatz.”

Romano rolled his eyes. “Well, some of us are perpetually single and don’t give a shit.” Savino didn’t hate the concept of Valentine’s Day, a special occasion to spend time with a significant other and celebrate the love you feel towards each other. But since he didn’t actually have a significant other and was forced to spend way too much time around Feli and his macho potato, Savino wasn’t a huge fan of the holiday. For him it was just another reminder that he was alone and unloved.

“Aww, cheer up, fratello! I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

Savino scoffed. “Unlikely.” Little did Feliciano know, but Romano actually had found someone he wanted to be with. But America hadn’t been able to pick up on the many and increasingly obvious hints he had dropped over the years, so Savino was beginning to lose hope. Alfred wasn’t stupid, and Romano didn’t think he was that oblivious. Maybe he was ignoring Savino’s feelings because he felt uncomfortable rejecting him outright. That sounded exactly like something that idiota would do.

Germany pushed open the doors to the conference room where several nations were already milling around, speaking to each other in small groups. (They had left a bit later than usual, since Romano was dragging his feet and took a while to get ready.) The meeting room looked just like it had for the past few days, except for Romano’s chair, which was festooned with too many red, white, and pink heart-shaped balloons for him to consider counting. A crystal vase filled with red roses had been placed on the table where he would usually take notes, along with a giant heart-shaped box of what Romano could only assume was chocolates.

“What the fuck?” Savino muttered to himself.

Feliciano turned to him with a smug grin. “See, I told you, Savi! I knew you’d find someone.”

“It’s probably just a dumb prank.” Romano wouldn’t put it past someone to mess with him that way, wanting to see him get excited just so they could laugh at him later. But he could feel his face heating up as he pushed past Feli and his boyfriend and rushed over to the seat he’d been using for the past several days.

Romano’s eyes widened when he got close enough to see the box and see that it wasn’t just chocolates, but Godivas. If this was a prank, it was a particularly expensive and stupid one. He checked the small card stuck among the roses, but that didn’t provide a clue. It only said that it was “To Savino, from your secret admirer.” The person who’d written the note had drawn a heart with a cartoon arrow pointed through it underneath their message. Savino sensed that the handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t recognize it instantly.

Romano frowned. “Ugh. I wonder why they didn’t tell me who they are.”

Romano sensed someone walking closer to him, and when he glanced over, it turned out to be Belgium. She had a small, inscrutable smile on her face as she delicately touched one of the roses with her fingertip. “I think they were nervous. It can be hard to tell someone you like them, especially if you don’t know how they feel about you.”

Wait, wasn’t Godiva a Belgian brand? Was Belgium his secret admirer? Savino’s eyes widened in alarm. He tried to respond, but he was struggling for words.

“Emma, I’m flattered. I’m really, really flattered, and I know I used to have a crush on you when I was a little kid, but—”

Emma laughed. “Relax, silly. It wasn’t me. But your secret admirer called me a few days ago to make sure Godiva was a brand you’d like. They were so anxious, and they really wanted to make you happy. It was adorable.”

“So you know who they are? Aren’t you going to tell me?”

Belgium smirked at him. “That would kind of ruin the whole secret admirer thing, now wouldn’t it?”

Romano glared at his old friend, but it had no effect on Belgium. She giggled as she walked away to go speak to her brothers, and Romano glanced around the conference room to see who his secret admirer might be. It clearly wasn’t Austria, who was kissing Hungary on the cheek. Savino’s heart lodged in his throat when he saw America from across the room. Alfred was smiling warmly as he handed over a black and white cat plushie to Japan. He knew the gesture probably wasn’t romantic, since Alfred liked to give his friends Valentine’s Day presents too. He had given Savino several stuffed animals over the years, and they usually sat on his headboard unless Romano was feeling particularly lonely, in which case he might hold one as he slept. But just the thought of America choosing Kiku over him hurt far more than it should have.

America looked up suddenly, and he gave Romano one of those huge, obnoxious grins that could make the sun look dim and dreary by comparison. Savino blushed and fought the impulse to smile back at him, but his lips were twitching at the corners. He forced himself to glance away, hoping against hope that Alfred had only met his eyes coincidentally and hadn’t noticed that Savino had been staring at him like a goddamn moron.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see America exchanging a quick word with Japan, who nodded in understanding. America zoomed around the table towards him so quickly that he didn’t even notice he’d bumped into Norway, who was glaring at America viciously after the unintentional slight. Hopefully Norway wouldn’t curse America with some weird troll later.

Alfred was flushed by the time he skittered to a stop in front of Romano. He was carefully holding a wine bottle with a red ribbon tied around the neck. “Hi, Vinny.”

Savino chuckled. “Hey, Fredo. Why the fuck did you run over towards me?”

“I wanted to give you your Valentine’s Day present before the meeting started.” America passed the bottle over to Romano. “I… uh, know you’re really into wine, but I don’t know much about it, so I asked the Secret Service guys I’m friends with, and apparently one of them is married to this gal whose family owns a vineyard in Napa Valley. It’s not Italian, but he said this was a really good year, so hopefully you’ll think it’s good enough.”

“That’s… that’s actually really thoughtful of you, bastard. Thank you.” Romano carefully set the wine bottle down next to the vase of red roses and turned back to face America.

America ran his hand over his hair, which was incredibly distracting because of how golden it looked, even under the greenish overhead lighting that wasn’t flattering to anyone in general. “I, um, also made you something.” He pulled a clear CD case out of his jacket pocket. Instead of handing it over right away, like he had with the wine bottle, Alfred took a deep, shuddering breath. He seemed nervous, but Savino tried not to get his hopes up. “It’s just some songs that reminded me of you. If you don’t like it, you can throw it away, I guess.”

Alfred finally held out the CD towards him, and Savino took it. He read the inscription Alfred had written in marker. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Savino! Love, Alfred.” It was a fairly normal inscription, but then a couple seconds later, Savino realized that Alfred’s handwriting perfectly matched the note from his secret admirer. He’d even drawn a heart with an arrow pointing through it.

Romano teared up. He was ecstatic, and he was in disbelief that his Alfredo, the friend he’d been pining over for ages, was actually his secret admirer. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Alfred blinked at him, clearly confused by his gratitude. “It’s just a CD, dude. Most of the songs aren’t even in Italian. And it didn’t cost me any money to make.”

“I didn’t mean the CD! I meant everything. You got me wine and roses, and a giant box of Godivas! You tied so many balloons to my chair that I’m surprised it hasn’t floated up to the ceiling by now!”

“That would take a lot more balloons. These chairs are really heavy. Do you think I should have gotten more balloons?”

Savino shook his head. “Only you could do all this and worry that it still wasn’t enough. I love you so much, Alfredo.”

“You… you love me? Like as a friend? Because if so, you’re gonna feel really awkward if you listen to that CD.” Alfred glanced away, chuckling nervously. “I put a lot of cheesy romantic ballads on there.”

Savino yanked Alfred down by his shirt collar and planted a firm kiss on his lips. America barely had a chance to respond before Romano pulled away and looked straight into his eyes.

“I like cheesy romantic ballads, and I like you. And not just as a friend, idiota.”

Alfred gave him a goofy, lovestruck smile. “Awesome.”

Romano smirked and played with Alfred’s tie to tease him a little. “I didn’t get anything nearly as extravagant for you for Valentine’s Day, but maybe later we can go back to my hotel room and listen to that CD you gave me. I’ll make dinner for us. It can be our first date.”

Alfred tilted his head down playfully. “I love your food, Vinny. And I love you.”

“I know you do.”

They kissed again, and this time it was more passionate and emotional, but it didn’t get inappropriate for their very public setting. Before it could get inappropriate, someone cleared their throat loudly, which interrupted them.

England had an awkward, mildly irritated frown on his face. “If you two don’t mind, everyone else is ready to start the meeting now.”

Alfred giggled. “Sorry, Artie.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, and Romano couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t thought about the work they were supposed to do today ever since he had discovered the surprise his “secret admirer” had left for him.

Romano sat down in his chair, and America took the chair next to him, where Veneziano had been sitting for the past few days. When he looked across the table, Feliciano was in the seat Alfred had been using during the extended multi-day conference, taking up the place between Japan and Canada. He beamed and waved to them from across the table. Alfred waved back enthusiastically.

Savino turned to look at his Valentine. “You switched seats with my brother?”

“I kind of told him what I was planning yesterday and asked if I could sit next to you if things went well. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. I’m glad I get to sit next to you.” Now Veneziano’s certainty and smugness earlier made sense. He had been so sure Savino would “find someone” because he knew Alfred had been planning to reveal his feelings today.

Alfred shifted closer so that they could hold hands under the table. England had started his opening presentation, but America wasn’t even feigning interest or pretending to take notes. “I’m glad I get to sit next to you too,” he whispered.

Savino ducked his head to hide the grin he couldn’t contain anymore and squeezed Alfred’s hand. His heart was beating too fast and he was too happy to pay attention to anything England might have been saying.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-7)

Word count: 5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: fluff, feels... like a lot of them ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​​ You da best <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

14th August 2008

It was the third time you were looking into the mirror, straightening the pleats of your dress and smoothening your hair. It absolutely refused to behave today. 

“Y/N!” Jo yelled from downstairs. “Sam’s here!”

Your heart beat reacted to the news before the rest of your body. You stared numbly at the reflection in the mirror and it stared back at you stupidly.

Sighing, you picked up the coat which you had washed and pressed, and folded it on your arm.

Sam met you at the base of the staircase just like the last time. 

“You-” he started to say; in your nervousness you cut him off. “I’m just gonna tell aunt El and Jo that we’re heading out.”

Your aunt was at the table chopping onions and Jo was grinning at you widely over the top of her book.

Ellen smiled, “Have a great time,” she said, then a little louder. “You have her home by ten, Samuel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam made a big deal out of bowing.

Jo winked at him and mouthed ‘hot stuff,’ which you weren’t supposed to see but did anyway and blushed.

“Where are we going?” You questioned, as Sam opened the door to his brother’s car for you.

“There’s really only one good place in the town,” he said apologetically. “Dean felt so bad about it that he even lent me the Impala. That way I can at least notch up some impression.”

You laughed and he gave you a winning look. The sort of look one would have on their face if they came across a twenty dollar bill out of the blue.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked, averting his eyes from the road just for a bit to look at you.

“I’m okay,” you answered, honestly. “I miss her awfully, and I feel lost sometimes, though the more I think about it, the more I feel relieved that she passed away peacefully and painlessly.”

She had been happy till the last day of her life, and you were trying to draw some peace out of that. Gran would have wanted you to.

“Here,” You handed him his coat, as you stepped out of the car in front of the restaurant. It was the same one that he had offered you on the day of the average birthday. You had never gotten around to return it.

Sam didn’t take it. “You hold on to it a little longer for me,” he said with a cryptic smile.

The restaurant was crowded, as was expected out of a Saturday night. The hostess met you at the door and when Sam gave her his name, she led you to a corner table. Sam pulled your chair for you like a true gentleman and then nudged the menu towards you.

You took a look at it, ordering the first thing that appeared familiar; some type of red sauce pasta. The table had lovely roses in a vase, with water sprinkled on them like dews. Underneath the vase and over the table was an expensive looking lace tablecloth. 

“You’re very quiet,” Sam said after a while. “What’re you thinking?”

“This,” you gestured towards the table in front of you and the restaurant in general. “I’ve never done this before.”

He looked confused. “What do you mean?”

He really didn’t know. “I come from a small town, Sam. We didn’t have fancy restaurants there. Just one crappy diner and few take outs, and I’ve lived there all my life. In fact, the only few times I went to a city was to Topeka; once with Aunt El when I was thirteen and then a couple of times with a neighbour, to help my Gran with some bakery stuff. I’ve just never been to a fancy restaurant before.”

It baffled you that Sam even wanted to date someone like you who knew so little about the world, when he had been to Stanford and then to Yale and New York. What could he possibly hope to find in common with you? 

You were expecting him to look at you funnily. Instead, you found wonder in his eyes. 

“Yet, you wanted to apply to universities so far away?”

You looked down at where his hands lay on the table, and nervously placed yours over his. At first his hand jerked, as if he hadn’t expected it, but then flattened against the table top, allowing you to cover it with yours.

“My dad was a lawyer,” you said. “First person from that town to ever actually get out and get a degree, and Gran was so proud of him. I don’t remember much, but I remember him getting smartly dressed in the morning and mom picking a tie for him and tying it around his neck. Every morning she would do that, and every morning he would swoop her in his arms and kiss her.”

The waiter arrived with your food, and you quickly jerked your hand back. Sam looked bereft at the loss of contact. He didn’t press you for conversation though. 

The spaghetti was good; mouthwateringly so and you worried about how much it cost. You wanted to split for the dinner, and there was just so much money you had. You were hoping that the food wasn’t so expensive that you wouldn’t be able to pay. Sam had ordered what looked like a somewhat unappealing salad. You wanted to offer him your spaghetti but weren’t sure if that was against the etiquette.

Uhhggg curses to the small town upbringing. You knew nothing about this sort of thing, or even how to talk to boys. Maybe telling them on the first date about how woefully limited your knowledge was of the world was actually a bad idea.

You were hell-bent on making it worse.

“When I said I’ve never done this before,” you said slowly, rolling the fork in your spaghetti. “I also meant that I’ve never been on a date before.”

“What?” His fork clattered into the bowl, the shock clear on his face. 

Maybe now you had done it. You still wanted to clear it up. “I just- I don’t want you to think I’m super cool or something, when I’m not,” you stressed. “I don’t want you to have any expectations from me that I won’t be able to live up to.”

“Y/N,” he said. “It’s not like that. I’m just surprised that I’m lucky enough to be the first person who had actually managed to convince you into going out with him. Can’t say I’m feeling too sorry about all the poor souls who didn’t get the chance.” He grinned. 

He was just so good with words. It did relieve you of some of your worry. 

“Seriously,” he insisted. “Please don’t think that. All week I was worrying if you had changed your mind.”

How could you not think like that? He was the male model adonis type, from the big city and you were just so inexperienced. Sure a couple of guys in high school had asked you out, but no one had ever appealed to you the way Sam had. There was just something about him that was reassuring, like he would never break your heart. Like nothing could ever go wrong when he was around. When he was gone, however, the worry that he didn’t feel the same way about you started to seep in.

You ate the rest of your dinner quietly, feeling a bit stupid. Way to ruin your first date. 

Afterwards, Sam absolutely denied splitting the bill even when you insisted. You noticed that he also tipped the waiter well.

You were upset with yourself as you walked out of the restaurant. After dreaming for days about how amazing it would be to finally go out with Sam, you had gone ahead and made a mess of it. Worrying about what must be going on in his mind, you turned towards the parking lot.

“Hey, you mind if we walk back?” Sam asked in an unsure voice. “Dean’s close-by and he always keeps a set of keys, he’ll drive the car back home.”

“Sure.”

It was cold outside, and the thin-strapped dress you were wearing was not helping with the wind at all. So you unrolled Sam’s coat and pulled it over, regretting that unlike the last time, it wasn’t smelling like him. He saw you rolling the sleeves up and smirked.

As you stepped onto the pavement, Sam offered you his hand and you took it gladly. Maybe the whole evening wasn’t ruined.

“Sorry I’m making you walk,” Sam confessed. “I didn’t want the night to end just yet. I feel like I’ve been a terrible date tonight.”

What? 

“I had a great time!” You protested.

“Did you? Really?” He looked chagrined. “I am still being terrible. I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked the moment I saw you on the stairs; I didn’t. In fact you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I didn’t tell you that, either.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. This felt unreal… not just because of his words, but because of how dazed he sounded.

“That’s not the only reason why I like you though,” Sam said hurriedly, as if he was scared of offending you. “It’s because you are one of the bravest people I know. Seeing you hold yourself at your Grandmother’s funeral, after losing everything… It was the hardest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

You had stopped walking. The two of you were simply standing in the middle of the sidewalk, hands interlocked.

“And you’re so bright, so ambitious. Despite every shit hand that you’ve been dealt, you want to make something of your life. You have goals and a desire to prove yourself. How could I not want to be with you?” His eyes were melting, and so were you inside.

“Beyond that, you are kind and patient,” he said. “And I never told you any of it. I thought of it, over and over and yet I never said a word. So of course I’m a bad date.”

He was standing so close now, close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your face. You moved closer still and closed your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked softly. “Is it something I did? What aren’t you telling me?”

You placed your hands on his arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “I’ve never felt this way before, Sam,” you admitted. “I think of you all the time when I’m not with you, and when I’m with you, I feel giddy with happiness. I guess, I’m just scared that one day you’ll wake up and not find me interesting anymore.”

“Have you considered for a second that maybe I’m scared, too?” He asked. You opened your eyes and looked directly into his unearthly ones. They were reflecting the same need you felt, a strange and unknown hunger to touch, lean in just a bit closer and…

You gave in to that instinct just as he did, your lips colliding with each other’s. Sam was gentle at first, hesitant as he pressed his full lips against your bottom lip, drawing out the moment, but there was something desperate within you. You raised your hands and snaked your fingers through Sam’s hair- they were just as soft as you had imagined them to be- and dragged your teeth along his lower lip. Sam moaned into your mouth and his whole body shuddered. His muscled arms wrapped around your waist hoisting you up and he gave up on all attempts to be gentle, following your lead.

This was happening, you were actually kissing Sam. A giggled escaped you, and Sam pulled back, reluctance clear on his face.

“What?” He asked, face flushed, lips parted. You didn’t answer him, diving right into another kiss.

“One other thing,” Sam mumbled against your lips. “Of all the things that I should have said already, and I didn’t, I’m not going to hold back this one. It could be years and years from now, but I would never not find you interesting. I’ll never not want to just keep looking at you.”

*****************************************

Sam’s POV:

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Jody asked, coming to stop over him.

“I ask myself that question everyday,” Sam said, without looking up from his laptop.

He could feel Jody roll her eyes. “Stop being a smartass. I meant aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Sam read through the last line and closed the file. In fact, he took his time to push away the laptop, then remove his glasses, clean them with the tip of his tie, before looking at his now colleague. Jody had been a new addition to the faculty when Sam had been a student here. She had been one of his favourite professors then. Now, she was staring down at him with amusement in her eyes.

“I don’t have to go in today,” Sam said. “Chase said he’ll fill in at the hearing. I can just look over the papers from here.”

“If I didn’t know better,” she said sitting down next to him. “I’d think you were finding reasons for sticking around.”

Sam did a double take, “What? What makes you say that?” Surely she didn’t mean it.

Jody laughed. “I’m kidding. What’s got your panties in a twist? Loosen up.”

“It’s just that I’m not used to being alone. And I worry about him all the time,” he sighed.

“You know what you need?” She said, “You need alcohol in your life! Make the most of the alone time. He’s a good kid, you know that. He can take care of himself.”

“I know,” Sam said, feeling lame.

“Seriously, what’re you doing Friday evening?”

Sam didn’t even pretend to consider. He didn’t have a social life. “Nothing much.”

“We’re getting you that alcohol.”

“Sure.”

“If you’re sticking around,” she said too nicely, “Why don’t you help me grade the assignments?”

“Yeah, no thank you,” Sam said firmly. “I got enough of my own and you’re not dragging me into your bundle.”

Jody tried to smack him, but Sam ducked to the side, grinning.

“Eh, it’s not that bad,” she waved her hand. “The fresh batch is actually pretty impressive. I heard you let them off easy with just a case brief for an assignment.”

“I figured with you guys setting up the heavy essays, I’d let it slide this time.” He stood up to gather his files.

“It’s not the only thing I heard,” Jody said, eyes on the papers in her hand. “Your TA, Paul, said you were particularly happy about one girl’s brief. What was her name again?”

Sam swore internally. “Y/N. Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

She turned around to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “You remember the names already.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. She didn’t press. “I actually checked through my stack for her essay, and what do you know! She’s actually gifted.”

Sam already knew that. He tried his best to not show it by attempting to look busy with his bag.

“It’s really funny,” Jody continued, looking at him curiously. “You know who her writing reminded me of? 

“Who?” He asked, already dreading the answer.

“You.”

“Really?” Sam said hurriedly packing his things.

“It’s actually quite weird,” Jody mused. “The same style of paraphrasing. And I’d know. You were one of my first students, and good, too.”

All packed, Sam turned and smiled tightly at her. “I’m still your favourite, though.”

“That you are, Winchester,” she winked. “Heading to the library again?”

“Yeah, I gotta return a book,” he said grimly.

Thankfully, it was only 4:30 and Molly was at the desk. It would be another hour and a half before her shift ended. She gave him a bright smile as he placed the book on the desk. “I need a huge favour,” he said urgently. “Can you quickly pull out the Development Control and Promotion regulations for San Jose? I need a specific hard copy. There are yellow tags on the pages.”

“Right up.” 

Molly disappeared into the shelves and Sam congratulated himself on finding a quiet place to  go through the references for the case he was working on, where no would quiz him about his past life. The solution for the case was in semantics, he knew that. It was still a lot of research and he needed to verify what his junior had sent him.

“Here you go,” Molly handed him the exact copy he had been working out of on Friday. “I don’t know why the hell you’re still living in the 90’s with paper tags, but to each his own.”

“Molly, you’re a lifesaver!”

She blew him a kiss and he went off to the farthest corner of the library. Sam had discovered this spot when he was a student here. No one ventured this far back, and it was well hidden from view.

He set up his laptop and got to work. It was all there. In bits and parts he put together a pretty good defense for his client. It did help that the client was wrongly accused of property damage to begin with, and the timeline of how things had gone down worked in his favour. Before he knew it, he had a rejoinder of his own ready to go for the next hearing. 

Sam stretched his arms, and looked up to see that it was dark outside. Already? 

He flicked his wrist to look at the watch. It was quarter past 7. Where had the time flown?

Sam craned his neck sideways to look at the librarians desk and there she was in front of the computer, looking intently into the screen. From here, Sam couldn’t see Y/N’s face. Just her profile. She wore a pale grey t-shirt and jeans underneath, not what she had worn to class today morning. Sam hated the fact that he noticed as well as remembered what she was wearing each day. He forced himself to look down and concentrate on the work at hand. He just had to phrase the concluding statements and it would be done. However, all the force that had been driving him for the past few hours seemed to disappear just like that. Try as he may, he got stuck on simple words. Soon he had read the same line five times. It didn’t help that he kept stealing glances at her.

This wasn’t like class, where he had so many eyes trained on him, where he was obligated to deliver a perfect lecture. No one was watching him now, which made it thousand times harder to keep his eyes off her.

She was busy working, completely unaware of his presence. Hadn’t she spent the past years like that? Completely unaware of what was happening with him. Anger burned bright and new within him. When he had read the brief about the Weather man case, he was already impressed before seeing who had written it. It had to be her! Sam had fought with himself over announcing her name in front of the whole class. But if it had been any other student, he’d have praised them, right? So he had to be fair and praise her, too. Never-mind that the words would burn on their way out. He had swallowed his feelings and done what was right.

Every little thing about her, may it be those cookies, or running into her in the corridors affected him to the point where it was all he could think about for the rest of the day. So had he been under the wrong impression all this time? Had he not moved on at all?

Y/N was still engrossed in her work, but as Sam looked closely, he soon realised that she was rubbing the nails of her hands against each other. Her feet were drawn up on the chair, under her legs and her shoulders were hunched. He squinted and could make out the slight shivering of her frame. She was cold.

He looked away. It wasn’t his problem. Y/N was hypersensitive to cold. She knew that very well, and made it a point to carry sweaters. If she was indeed that cold, she could just pull on one. 

Sam went back to his rejoinder, typing out two more sentences of the conclusion. However, his eyes kept flitting towards her, as she rubbed her hands. Y/N smiled at the people who came by, asking for books. By this point it wasn’t hard to see that her lips were quivering, maybe her teeth were chattering, too. There was no sweater nearby. 

There were so many reasons that stopped him from helping her. So many. And for all his anger and seething, all Sam wanted to do was go over and hug her so tight that she would stop shaking. He couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to do that anymore.

Sam’s fingers balled into fists in frustration and helplessness, nails digging into the flesh of his palms painfully.

Just then a girl came wandering over. She looked in her teens and Sam wondered what she was doing here. 

“Are you from the college?” Sam asked her, certain that he had never seen her before.

The girl gawked at him. “I’m seventeen, dude!”

Sam didn’t care what she was doing here, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. “Hey, if it’s not too much to ask, please could you help me with something?”

Reader’s POV:

It had been a slow morning  and an even slower afternoon. After Professor Mcleod’s class, the last one for the day ended, you decided to duck back to the apartment for a while. Madison asked you to hang out with her afterwards, but the thought of hanging out with Brad and the rest of that girl gang, didn’t appeal to you much. You had thought that you’d get over their raving about Sam, but the more you listened the harder it got. Neither could you say anything. You didn’t own Sam. So it was better to avoid them as much as you could for the sake of your own mental peace.

Since it was only two, you could actually catch some sleep before heading for the night shift which started at 6 pm and ended at 2 am. Usually everyone emptied out the library by then. You could clock in an extra hour if someone wanted to stay back. There was a Librarian’s room which you could use to catch your sleep, but from having worked two nights, you figured it was better to walk back home and grab a few hours in your own bed before classes. What was the point of living so close if you weren’t going to make the most of it?

The apartment building was too quiet and empty at this hour on a Tuesday. The only other people were Pam and Cas, both knocked out after the night shift. Even Kevin had to show up at work today. You contemplated whether to start reading for college but decided against it and headed to bed instead.

It turned out to be a bad idea, because given your track record of not waking up to the alarm lately, you slept on till the front door banged open. You sat up straight, disoriented. 

“Y/N?” Meg called, uncertainly. “You’re home?”

“Sure am,” you answered through a thick throat. Like an idiot you had fallen asleep in your morning clothes and were sweaty and icky now. 

Meg appeared at the door of your room. “Whoa, you’re sleeping! I thought you’d be at work.”

“Why would I be at work,” you said, sleepily, turning to the clock. “It’s only- 5:45! Shit!”

You jumped out of the bed and ran straight for the shower. 

“Doesn’t your shift start at 6?” Meg shouted from outside. She sounded amused and it only worked you up as you stripped at a super speed and got into the shower. The water was cold and it was all you could do to not yelp at the sting of it on your skin. Thankfully, Meg hadn’t stuck around in the living room, when five minutes later you made a beeline for your room wrapped in just one towel. At least you didn’t have to worry about what to wear this time. A pair of jeans and any top would do. On your way out, you grabbed your bag, laptop and keys.

“Meg, I’m so sorry I didn’t cook. I was just so tired, I fell asleep.”

Meg, who was filling her nails with what looked like a pen knife, gave you an incredulous look.

“Y/N, fuck dinner! I might just go out anyway,” she said, shaking her head. “You go go go!”

You muttered a thanks and then sprinted at full speed, coming to stop seven minutes later in front of the library.

Molly was fixing the slips for the day. 

“Molly, I’m so sorry- “

“Save it,” Molly waved her hand. “It’s just 6 o five.”

“Yeah okay,” you sat down, catching your breath.

“Hey listen,” Molly said, “There’s a few kinds from Palo Alto high school. They’re visiting with their teacher. That woman you see-” she pointed towards a middle aged woman who was breathing down a teenage boy's neck- “that’s her. The kids are well behaved, but they’ll stick around till dinner. You think you can manage?”

“Sure, I can do that!” 

“Good luck,” she gave you a thumbs up before leaving.

As had become your unwitting habit lately, the moment you were free of a conscious thought, your mind went to Sam. He had been so frequent to the library before- Molly had been clear about that- but since your joining, he had not shown up once. Maybe your face was still that repulsive to him.

Feeling dejected, you slid your bag under the table, plugged your laptop on charging and settled into the seat, ready to go through the night’s tasks. It didn’t take you longer than five minutes to figure out that you had left your sweater at home in all the hurry to get here. Suddenly, the conditioned air in the room felt ten times colder and you grabbed your arms, hugging yourself. Oh, this was going to be a terrible evening. You briefly contemplated calling Meg, then remembered that she might have gone out for dinner, and both Kevin and Jack were out. Even Pam and Cas would have returned to their night shifts by now. 

You would have to sit through this. 

The high school teacher came over and introduced herself, then pointed at the seven kids she had brought with her. You barely managed to listen to what she was saying though, trying your best to warm yourself by chaffing your hands against your arms. 

“Hey, you think you can grab a copy of Lord of the rings for me?” One of the kids asked, coming up to you.

You forced a smile. “I’ll have to check if we have that one. We d-don’t stock too much fiction here. You would find multiple editions of it in the Central Librar-ry th-though.” 

You typed in Tolkien in the catalogue. Somehow one copy was still there.

Shivering, you turned back to look at the boy. “We have t-two towers. If you’ll give me a minute, I can get it for you.”

Breathing in and out of your mouth, you walked to the shelf and retrieved the book for him.

“Here you go,” you said. “Be sure you h-hand it in b-before you go.”

Maybe you should call Meg anyway, you thought. There was no way you could get through the night like this with nails turning blue and your teeth chattering.

“Hey!”

One of the school girls was standing before you with a blank expression on her face. “Here.” She put down bunched up fabric in front of you.

Thoughtlessly you took it, unfolding it to realise that it was, in fact, a grey coat. The sort that was part of a three piece suit. You ran your fingers over the fabric. It was soft and expensive, but felt so warm.

“Put it on!” The girl said. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

You held up the coat. “W-Who gave this to you?”

“That dude sitting at the back,” she said. “He asked me to give this to you. That’s all I know.”

You twisted your torso to glance at the table the girl had pointed to. It was empty. 

Strange.

You put on the coat nevertheless, shivering violently as the fabric began to contain the body heat. Soon enough you stopped shaking completely, the warmth reminding you of happier, easier times. You walked around the corner to see who it was, but there was no one there. Shrugging you pulled the coat closer around, inhaling deeply. The scent of his cologne hit you like a ton of bricks. 

It couldn’t be.

You took a look at the coat again, remembering what Sam had been wearing in the morning. It was a grey suit- in fact, this very grey. Without thinking, you rushed back to the very end, looking for him, but he was most definitely gone, leaving you with his borrowed warmth. You sank in your chairs, tears blurring your vision. 

Sam was here… and he still cared.

*******************************

A/N 2: Aaaaahhhh so what do y’all think??? I mean the reader will have to do something with the coat, right? Do you think it will finally make them talk? ;)

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[iselsis]

Pieces

Summary: Jason Todd accidentaly breaks one of those stupid antique vases, and Bruce is going to kill him as soon as he finds out.

The vase fell to the ground with a splintering crash and broke into a million tiny pieces.

Jason slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a panicked scream. He- He hadn’t meant to, he’d just turned around too fast and his arm had bumped into the table with the ugly and probably ridiculously expensive vase had gone straight over the edge.

Jason couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his eyes and spilled over, the first tears he’d cried since his mom died, and they were all for some stupid vase. Shit, Bruce was going to kill him for this, and if he didn’t do it himself, he was just going to toss Jason back onto the streets and let Gotham do it for him. It had only been a few weeks since Bruce had kidnapped him, but Bruce and Alfred had been so nice, and it was so weird, but that was all over.

Bruce was going to see the broken glass and flip his shit, and then he was going to deal with Jason the way Jason had been expecting him to for weeks over backtalk and being caught stealing food. Bruce had never hit Jason, and for a blissful day and a half, Jason had thought that maybe if he stayed out of big trouble, then Bruce wouldn’t hit him at all. As soon as his guard had come down, though, he’d gone and screwed it all up.

He was going to get a beating from Batman, and then he was going to be kicked back to Crime Alley, marked by the media as Wayne’s foster kid. If he didn’t die from internal bleeding or a cracked skull from the beating, he’d never last the night.

Unless Bruce never found out.

Jason inhaled sharply and quickly scrubbed the tears away. He had to work fast, and he couldn’t let Bruce or Alfred catch him being upset, because then they’d ask and there was no way they wouldn’t notice.

Jason pulled off his hoodie and spread it on the floor, then started snatching up the largest pieces of glass and throwing them onto his makeshift body bag. In his haste, he cut himself on a sharp edge, but he hardly noticed except to think that he’d better not get blood on the carpets too.

“Jason?”

Jason yelped and jumped up, throwing himself between Bruce and the broken shards of their relationship. He hadn’t even heard the man approach, but he was only twenty feet away.

That was such a stupid move. He could have played nonchalant, slid his hoodie over the glass, and just pretended that he was really interested in the carpet or something. Bruce would have bought that! He was a total clueless idiot! But no, Jason had just gone and panicked worse than he had when he’d been caught stealing Batman’s tires, and even Bruce would be able to read the guilt in that yelp.

It didn’t even make sense to be more scared now. Bruce wasn’t even wearing his reinforced gauntlets that would have let him cause more damage and longer like he had when he was Batman, but somehow the thought of Bruce – not Batman, not the Dark Knight, Bruce who bought him clothes, and books, and always asked Alfred how much Jason weighed and if he was gaining enough weight fast enough when he thought that Jason wasn’t around, and smiled at him like a creep whenever he walked in on Jason reading in the library – beating him made him feel sick in a way the threat of his father and Batman never had.

Bruce frowned and stepped closer. Jason did his best not to flinch and further show his guilt, but when Bruce reached for him, Jason stumbled back, directly onto his hoodie and the glass beneath it. None of the glass cut through the thick material, but it cracked damningly under his weight.

Bruce didn’t look down at Jason’s feet, just reached forward again, eyes zeroed in on Jason’s hand. Jason backed up again, but only made it half a step before crashing into the small table behind him.

“I’m sorry!” Jason cried and dropped to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and covering the back of his head with his hands, his eyes clenched tight shut so he wouldn’t have to see the blows coming.

“Jason!” Bruce exclaimed, and Jason felt an ugly sob building in his chest. Bruce was so mad, he was so mad….

There was a second crack of glass as Bruce must have stepped in it, meaning he knew not just that Jason was hiding something for sure, he knew that it was the probably priceless vase that had been in the Manor longer than Jason, and he might have hurt himself and gotten even more mad at Jason, and he was right there.

Jason sniffled pathetically, but he couldn’t stop crying, which was stupid, because crying always pissed his dad off more, but he just couldn’t stop.

There was another slight crunch of glass as Bruce shifted his weight, and Jason could literally feel the heat emanating from Bruce’s body.

“Please, I’m sorry! It was an accident, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jason cried, pressing back as far as he could.

Huge hands wrapped around his thin wrists and effortlessly pulled them away from Jason’s head. Oh god, Bruce was going for a kill shot. Jason was going to die and even though he’d always expected to die young, he wasn’t ready. He had dreams, kind of, and plans, and half of Sense and Sensibility left to live for.

Bruce pressed both of his wrists into one hand and held them above his head, and Jason could feel the shift of air as the other hand reached for his face.

Warm, calloused fingers lightly touched his jaw and tilted his head. Jason flinched down, but Bruce made a soft, gentle noise that was so out of place that it shocked Jason long enough for Bruce to tilt his face up. So I can see how mad he is before he let’s me have it, Jason thought in dread.

“Jaylad, you’re hurt,” Bruce said, but that wasn’t true and it didn’t make any sense because Bruce hadn’t hit him yet.

“I’m sorry,” Jason sobbed, pleading with his eyes for some mercy.

Bruce frowned severely and let go of Jason’s wrists and chin. Jason ducked back down and threw his hands back over his neck and head as he heard Bruce stand slowly.

Jason felt the air shift again and braced for the contact, but it came as one hand braced carefully against either side of his rib cage. Jason had just a moment for confusion before he was lifted into the air and tucked against Bruce’s solid, warm, relaxed chest.

“Sh, sh, Jaylad. Everything’s okay,” Bruce hummed and turned around to face back the way he’d come. “Let’s go take a look at that finger.”

“What?” Jason whimpered thickly, keeping his arms tense between his chest and Bruce’s.

Was Bruce just going to carry Jason to the front door and chuck him out? That would be better than being beaten and thrown out, but his heart twinged in what felt like physical pain at the idea.

“Jason, I’m not mad at you.” Bruce rubbed a firm circle in Jason’s trembling back, but it didn’t hurt at all. It felt nice, way too nice for someone who was about to kick him back to the streets. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to be so nice. It wasn’t fair. “And if I were mad at you, I still wouldn’t hurt you. You’re my son now. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

That- That didn’t make any sense, and Jason felt like his head was spinning. If Bruce hadn’t been holding him, then he might have fainted.

“B-but-” Jason choked out around his tears.

“But nothing,” Bruce said, a hint of Batman’s steel in his tone. “If anyone hurts you, I will beat them up. You are mine, and I would never abuse you like that.”

“But the vase-” Jason’s voice hitched, but he had to say it. “I b-broke that vase, and it probably cost more than I do, and, and-”

Jason was jostled as Bruce’s chest jolted with a burst of laughter.

“Jason, I should be thanking you for breaking that,” Bruce told him, stopping his back rub to playfully ruffle Jason’s hair. “I’ve always hated that vase. It was an ugly eye sore that my Great-Aunt Edna bought at a yard sale for two dollars. Alfred would never let me throw it out.”

Hope sprung in Jason’s chest, and he sat up as best he could in Bruce’s arms. He had to see Bruce’s eyes, he had to be sure.

“You’re really not mad?” Jason whispered.

Bruce smiled softly and shook his head.

Jason’s breath caught on another sob, this one of utter relief instead of complete despair. “You- I can stay? You won’t kick me out?”

Bruce’s smile turned into a serious frown. They reached the empty kitchen, and Bruce opened the door without answering. Jason’s heart pounded wildly in his chest every moment that Bruce didn’t answer, but he didn’t dare press.

Bruce set him on the island, putting them nearly eye to eye. Bruce was still taller and so much broader, but it was the closest thing to equality they would get, and it settled Jason’s nerves just a bit.

Bruce took Jason’s chin between his fingers again and forced him to look into his dead serious eyes. Jason was transfixed by the intensity of Bruce’s gaze, even though he had no clue what going to happen to him next.

“Jason Peter Todd, I will never kick you out, do you understand me?” Bruce said, with more power and conviction in his tone than Batman. “I will never throw you out. When you leave this house, it will be because you are an adult and you want to, and even then, you will always be welcome to come back. I am never going to hit you or kick you, or abuse you in any other way. You are my son, and this is your home. You are safe here.”

Jason sat there in complete shock. He completely and totally believed that Bruce meant it – for the moment at least, because his dad had said that he’d quick drinking sometimes so seriously that Jason had really believed him, and he’d heard his mom say that she was going to quit for real this time so many times, but he’s sure that for the moment they are in, Bruce really, really means it.

The fire in Bruce’s eyes toned down and he placed a small kiss on Jason’s forehead before letting go. “Now, let’s get that cut cleaned and bandaged, then I’ll go clean up that vase. Do you want the Batman and Robin bandaids, or the Justice League baindaids?”

 Jason had wandered off in almost a trance after their talk, his fingers freshly tended to with a Robin and a Wonder Woman themed bandaid over the cuts on his fingers. Luckily, the cuts hadn’t been deep. Still, it bothered Bruce that Jason had been so panicked that he’d so desperately tried to hide his mistake. Bruce would definitely have to keep an eye on Jason to make sure that he didn’t try to hide injuries after patrol – if he ever actually came on patrol.

Bruce would much rather have Jason stay home and safe at the Manor instead of joining Bruce on patrol. Batman didn’t need a Robin so much as Bruce needed his son to be safe.

Jason had thrown himself so fully into being Robin that Bruce couldn’t stand to take it away. Not after agreeing to train Jason had finally settled some of that roiling anxiety in Jason’s eyes that Bruce had been sure would send him running back to the open mouthed grave that was Crime Alley.

The events of that past half hour, though, shed a bit of light as to why that anxiety was there in the first place. Jason didn’t trust Bruce to mean it when he said that he wanted Jason to stay permanently. He had months before Jason would be even a little bit ready to hit the streets. Maybe Bruce could convince him by then that he didn’t have to be Robin and risk his life to earn his place in the Manor.

Failing that, he could convince Jason that he and Batgirl were in desperate need of technical support. He could give him enough training on running comms and hacking cameras that he would know enough to feel useful, and then Alfred could get “sick” and need Jason to fill in for him. Jason responded well to praise, even though he tried to hide his blushing and smiles behind his hands and blustering attitude. While that as a less preferable option, it would keep Jason out of harm’s way long enough for Bruce to hammer into his thick little skull that he mattered to Bruce beyond just what he could do for him.

He was still musing on that and sipping his coffee at the kitchen table after having dumped the dustpan full of blue and white shards – because he did know how to use a broom - into the trashcan, never to be spoken of again, when Alfred came into the room.

Dammit, he’d forgotten to throw out-

Alfred picked up the bandaid wrappers from the counter and wordlessly stepped over to the trashcan to throw them away. When he saw inside, he stopped.

“Master Bruce, why are the remains of a Kangxi vase in the trash can, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, giving him a pointed accusatory glare.

Trust Alfred to be able to know what dynasty or era, or whatever the hell Kangxi meant, a pile of broken glass had come from by sight.

Bruce took a long sip of his coffee. “That is some worthless knock-off my Great-Aunt Edna bought at a yard sale and Jason is never to think otherwise.”

Alfred’s irritation softened, and he sighed with mild, but fond, exasperation. “I suppose I acted too soon in bringing out the more breakable antiques. With Master Dick’s departure, I had assumed that they would be safe.”

Bruce felt a mild twinge of sadness at the mention of Dick’s sudden absence, but he pushed it down. He’d already made those mistakes, and he would not make them with Jason.

“With our boys?” Bruce scoffed. “I doubt they’ll ever be safe.”

Alfred sighed and threw the wrappers into the trashcan. “I was afraid of that.”

[moonlit-jeno]

Love Sick

Chapter 3- Jeno

pairing: nct dream ‘00 line + reader

chapter warnings: very brief mentions of gore

words: 2.7k

summary:

“I just kinda thought you were joking around, y’know? But then my parents really didn’t come home, and the phone lines really aren’t back up.”

notes: this is kind of filler but also kind of necessary to determine oc’s relationship w the boys??

masterlist | prev | next

You’ve been listening attentively to Jaemin and Renjun for the past twenty minutes, your gaze darting from boy to boy as they explain the story as bluntly as possible. Jeno winces when Jaemin describes the things they’ve seen- he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the brains splattering over his windshield- but you don’t even flinch. Honestly, Jeno can’t tell if you believe them or not.

“-and now we’re here. Sorry for breaking in and stuff, we did try to knock.” Jaemin finishes, running his hand through his hair anxiously. It’s silent for a bit as they wait for you to respond.

“So you saw the girl start seizing,” You finally say, eyes piercing straight into Jaemin’s soul. “And you just magically knew what was happening and bolted.” Jaemin nods slowly. Jeno can tell by the tone of your voice that you definitely don’t believe them. You stand up, walking over to where the food is spread out across the floor. A can of peas rolls towards them when you nudge it with your foot. “This seems like a lot of emergency food. Were you really shopping for peas?” Frustration builds up in Jeno’s gut, curling under his skin. You don’t believe them, and he can’t even blame you. It sounds insane. But it’s real, and it’s happening, and the worst part is that it’s not like they can prove it to you without going outside and showing you a real… well, whatever those things are.

“Well, no, but I was near the aisle with all that stuff in it and I just kind of grabbed it as I went.” Jaemin explains. “I wanted to be prepared.” “I dunno, man. I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, and my first thought has never been ‘whelp, guess it’s the zombie apocalypse’.” Your eyebrows are raised, head tilted to the side.

Jeno’s had enough. He’s tired, he’s scared, and he’s reached his breaking point. “Look, I don’t care what kind of weird shit you’ve seen. Have you ever seen someone bite a man’s nose clean off? Have you ever seen someone run full speed at a moving car and proceed to consciously bash their own head in? Hmm? You ever driven with blood and brains splattered across your windshield?” Donghyuck reaches out to tug on his hand and it’s only then that he realizes he’s standing. He keeps his eyes on you as he sits back down, forcing himself to relax. “I know it sounds stupid, but we aren’t fucking lying. I don’t know how else to prove it to you, unless you want to run outside and find a zombie.” His words hang in the air for a minute and he’s worried that he’s been too mean, has let his temper get the best of him. But then he realizes that the look in your eyes is calculating, and the way your eyes are roaming over him isn’t because you’re scared. You’re sizing him up.

“No, I don’t want to do that.” You say softly, picking up a box of cake mix. “But I do think that we should organize our food. Seems like we’re going to be here a while.” 

Jeno is utterly, completely confused. You have just pulled a complete one-eighty, going from disbelieving to fully supporting their story. All four of the boys exchange wide eyed glances, not sure what to do. Renjun eventually shrugs, standing up. “Good idea. Be careful what you give Donghyuck, though. He’ll probably eat it.”

Donghyuck whines in protest, swatting at Renjun’s thigh and missing by a foot He gets a bag of tortillas thrown at him, the same ones he had squashed in the cart. You move to the fridge, pulling everything out, only raising an eyebrow when you notice Jeno watching. 

“Gonna help? Or are you too worried about your nose?” It’s teasing, mocking his words from earlier. His jaw clicks and he feels his fists clenching, has to put conscious effort into calming himself down.

“My nose is fine.” He grumbles, taking a carton of strawberries from you and slamming them down much too aggressively. The plastic dents. You smirk.

Organizing everything only takes about thirty minutes, but Jeno is absolutely exhausted by the end of it. He lets himself melt into the softness of the mattress, limbs heavy. You’d given them a house tour- Jeno had argued that they’d already seen the house and you had just told him that they had, quite frankly, done a shit job of searching- and let them steal your brothers room for a bit. “Just until they come back.” You’d said, throwing them some clothes. “Also, you kind of reek.” Jeno had to bite back a snotty remark of “they’re not coming back”, because that’d be too mean even if he doesn’t like you. Also, he doesn’t know if they’re coming back or not, doesn’t really know much of anything. The so called ‘apocalypse’ could be over within days and he would have no clue.

His head is on Jaemin’s chest, and he’s forever thankful for the younger. Jeno’s been ranting for way too long about you, but the younger’s let him go on interrupted, playing with his hair to soothe him.

“Even the way she fucking looks at me is so- ugh, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like she thinks she’s better than us, like she knows something we don’t.” Jaemin, apparently, has had enough of Jeno’s bitching. “Jen, I know you’re scared and frustrated right now, but I think you’re reading too much into it. We did just break into her house, and a zombie apocalypse isn’t exactly a believable story. She’s probably just humoring us.”

“No, Jaem, you didn’t see the way she looks at me. It was so much more condescending than she looked at anyone else.” You’re actually nice to the rest of the boys, giggling at their jokes, not mocking and teasing them. You’d even gone as far as trading conspiracy theories with Renjun, not once laughing at him cruelly.

“She looks at you the same as everybody else, Jen.” Jaemin sounds exasperated. “I think you’re just looking for an outlet, here. You’re seeing your own frustrations in her.” Jeno’s quiet for a bit as he processes it. Jaemin’s probably right, but it’s easier to ignore it right now. Admitting that he’s wrong isn’t going to make him feel better. “She’s also like, strangely calm about everything. Like she was so skeptical and then she completely pulled a 180 on us. Doesn’t make sense.”

Jaemin shrugs and the motion of his chest moves Jeno’s head with it. “People process things differently. Also, she hasn’t seen anything that we have.”

He doesn’t respond to that.

Only three days pass and Jeno’s already managed to break something . The vase was kind of ugly, in his defense, but also, it was definitely expensive. He tries to say that he did her a favor but Jaemin smacks him on the back of the head and points out that it still belongs to you. With a roll of his eyes, Jeno sets off to find you.

Jeno doesn’t get a response when he calls your name, and you’re not in your bedroom when he checks. You’re not with Renjun and Donghyuck, either, and Jeno starts to mildly panic. Maybe you’d gone outside because you didn’t believe them and got eaten by zombies. Maybe the zombies broke in and they’re next. 

He’s saved from descending into full blown panic when he hears a noise coming from the bathroom. There’s still no response when he calls your name, but he’s at least pretty sure that you’re not dead. Preoccupied with figuring out how to tell you that he broke your expensive (ugly) vase, he doesn’t bother knocking. 

His mouth is open, words on the tip of his tongue, when he stops short. You’re crying, like full on sobbing, and Jeno definitely was not prepared to handle this.

Your forehead is pressed to the mirror, condensation forming on the glass and fogging your reflection. There’s quiet sobs leaving your mouth, your shoulders shaking with the force of them, and Jeno feels his heart drop to his stomach. His mouth feels dry and there are hot tears forming behind his eyes.

Jeno feels frozen, wanting to help but afraid to. He turns to leave but you spot him and he stiffens, caught. You freeze for a moment before wiping your eyes with the back of your hands and sniffing almost violently in a frantic attempt to compose yourself. You smile but it’s lopsided and looks more like a grimace.

“Are you alright?” You’re not, it’s obvious that you’re not, but he finds himself asking anyways because he just doesn’t know what to say.

You nod but the movement’s jerky. “Yeah. Yeah! No, I’m fine. Are you?” The first word comes out as a croak and you clear your throat before trying again.

A tear slips down your right eye and you wipe at it quickly, almost angrily, as if it’s betraying you by showing how sad you are. Jeno raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s fine if you’re not.”

Another tear slips out as you try to smile, followed by another, until there’s too many for you to try to wipe away. You try to nod but give up halfway through and end up shaking your head, breaking down completely. Jeno moves forward on instinct, arms held open, and you cling to him as if he’s your lifeline.

“I’m scared.” You sob, the words broken and small. “I’m so, so scared.”

Jeno feels so unbelievably guilty as he holds your shaking figure, feeling his shirt become damp with your tears. The sound of your sobs drill holes into his heart. He feels sick as he thinks about how quick to hate you he was, how quick he was to talk shit about you when he didn’t know anything about you.

He rubs your back soothingly, dropping his face down until your hair tickles his nose. There are tears pricking the back of his eyes, too, and he wills them not to fall. 

There’s a voice in the back of his head that sounds vaguely like Jaemin’s telling him that the bathroom is not the best place to have a breakdown. Jeno keeps his arms around you as he steps back, pulling you with him and successfully managing to usher you into your room. He lets go of you when he sits down, fully expecting you to sit down next to him. Nothing prepares him for you to climb into his lap and curl up against him. He pats your back gently and bounces his knee anxiously. All he can do is whisper that it’s going to be alright, that he’s got you. The words taste bitter on his tongue because he knows they’re probably lies.

You wear out eventually, the full body sobs simmering down to occasional hiccups. Your breathing evens out eventually, your head heavy against his chest. Jeno peaks down at you and finds your eyes closed.

He carefully moves you onto the bed, trying his damn hardest not to wake you up. You make a noise just as he’s pulling the covers over you and he freezes, relaxing when you don’t move again. Jeno finds himself lingering even though there’s no reason for him to be there anymore, not when you’re asleep. But he finds himself mesmerised by how peaceful and innocent you look right now. There are tear tracks on your cheek and he wipes at them with his thumb, hesitating for only a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

A hand reaches out to him just as he’s leaving, grazing the side of his leg. He turns to see you looking at him with bleary eyes, a pout on your face. Panic runs through him and he prays that you didn’t feel the kiss. He doesn’t even know why he did it.

“Stay?” It’s just one word, and he’s not even sure if it’s a question or a command, but he finds himself walking back to the bed. His plan is to sit on the edge and maybe let you hold his hand, but you frown at him before pushing him to lay down. You only seem to hesitate for a moment before laying back down next to him, tugging one of his arms around you. “Cuddle me.” Jeno huffs a laugh at your bossiness, complying with you because hey, you’ve been crying and yeah, it’s nice to hold someone. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with his face pressed against the nape of your neck, but that’s just what happens.

He sure as hell doesn’t mean to make it a habit, but again, that’s just what happens. Jeno finds himself in your bed every night for the next week, his arms wrapped tightly around you, your body pressed tightly against his. It’s weird for sure, considering he’s A) never shared a bed with a girl before and B) neither of you discuss it, even though it’s definitely supposed to be weird to share a bed with a stranger. 

You don’t question it when Jeno shows up the next night, sitting hesitantly on the edge of your bed as he asks if you’re feeling better. He wonders if you can see through the thinly veiled excuse for him to hopefully hold you in his arms again. Sure, he definitely could have asked you when he saw you in the morning, or during lunch, or at any other part of the day. So sue him, he feels a little protective of you now, and it feels nice to share a bed with someone.

“Yeah, sorry you had to see that.” You try to laugh it off but it sounds hollow. “I just kinda thought you were joking around, y’know? But then my parents really didn’t come home, and the phone lines really aren’t back up, and it kinda just hit me at once. Um.” You laugh again but it sounds broken and your eyes are looking a little glassy. Jeno offers you a hug and you don’t hesitate before crawling into his arms, burying your head in his chest before pushing him to lay down. 

And he doesn’t question it when you tug him into your room the next night, an extra pair of clothes sitting on the desk. A feeling of satisfaction rises up in his chest that you chose him over the other three boys, but he tries to tamp it down.

Even Renjun didn’t say anything when he saw them one night, though he definitely gave Jeno a ‘what the fuck’ type of look. It’s the same look that all of the boys give him when they’re all huddled around the TV watching some movie from the 90s that you’d found the disk for. 

Hyuck, Renjun, and Jaemin are sprawled out on the couch. Donghyuck puts his head on Renjun’s lap and the elder attempts to choke him, laughing and stroking his hair when all Hyuck does is fake a moan. You and Jeno are curled together on the reclining chair, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. Jaemin had shot Jeno a curious glance earlier but didn’t say anything.

Jeno’s battling the urge to press another kiss to your forehead- this time when you’re wide awake and have the chance of feeling it- when Jaemin saves him. He’s off the couch- probably bored with the movie- and looking through one of the windows.

“Hey, you’ve got a pretty big backyard.” Jaemin points out, turning to call it over your shoulder. You hum. “What’s that big building out there?”

Your face is smashed into Jeno’s chest and he feels the vibrations when you speak. The words are muffled and barely comprehensible even to him, who’s the closest in proximity to you.

“What?”

“She said it’s a greenhouse.” Jeno responds. Jaemin raises his eyebrows again- seriously, twice in one day is too much- and Jeno shrugs in response.

Renjun pipes up this time. “You didn’t want to tell us earlier?”

You actually lift your head this time. “No? It’s not that interesting?”

Renjun stares at you like you’re dumb. Jeno’s been on the receiving end of it many times. “You’re right. It’s not like it’s a source of food or anything. Y’know, the thing that we’re probably gonna run out of soon. That thing that we kind of need to live?”

Your eyes widen in realization.

[nejislavendereyes]

Think Things Through [prt. 2]

Prt. 1

Mei sat at a table, grumbling and glowering, annoyed with her friends, Sakura and Naruto. She had kicked Naruto enough times, his children should feel the bruising on his shin. Granted they took her out for food after the mission, she was still irritated. 

"Hi!" Hinata greeted making her way to their table with, surprisingly, Neji in tow. 

"Kiba said you guys got back this morning." Hinata slipped in the seat next to Naruto and Sakura, allowing Neji to take the place next to Mei, who tried her best not to blush. "How was the mission?"

The question suddenly sent Mei blushed into a redder hue as her eyes narrowed in anger. She once again grumbled lowly and glared hard at the table. 

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," Neji started with a raised brow. "But I'm not sure the table deserves such harsh language."

Mei growled before dropping her head on the table. Once. Twice. Almost three times before Neji put his hand under her head. 

Both joining parties looked at Naruto and Sakura for answers. "She's just upset that she got into it with two squirrels… and lost." Sakura sang. 

"I didn't lose! They were just… really hard to get away from…" Mei tried to sound less pathetic. "They have really sharp claws! I was at a disadvantage, I could've lost an eye!" 

They all laughed at her bitterness and she only grumbled more. "Here, let me see." Neji tried to lift her head but she resisted. 

"No," She whined. "It's all ugly…"

"Mei." He encouraged. 

Grumbling, she finally let him lift her face from the table. He gently pushed her hair from her face, and rolled his eyes at her pout before looking at the scratch marks over her eye. It didn't look bad at all, really it seemed they were exaggerating to tease her, while Mei nursed a bruised ego. 

"It doesn't look ugly at all, Mei. Sakura healed it so it should be gone soon." He rubbed his thumb over it, gently.

Naruto cleared his throat and shot Neji a cheeky look that she missed. A look that turned his smile back to a frown and caused him to pull away from Mei quite a bit. Mei also frowned a bit, he never stayed too close to her. Sometimes when they were alone, but not too often. The thoughts started to deepen her frown...

"Imma head home, I'm tired. Thanks for lunch, Naruto. Bye!" Mei jumped over the booth and started out the restaurant. 

"Wait! Let me walk you home, it’s getting dark." Neji followed her. Mei just nodded with a small smile. If he was nothing else, he was a gentleman.

Their walk was quiet, but not unbearably silent. Mei hummed quietly, kicking a small pebble ahead. She had waited for Neji to hold her hand, step closer, talk to her… Something! But, alas, he kept to himself. 

Now the walk was unbearably silent. 

She thought that once feelings were admitted and out in the air, things would be different. But, within the last two weeks, the only thing that changed is small kisses, and again, that's only behind closed doors occasionally, when she kissed his cheek. She was surprised by the PDA he showed today and hoped he might show more, but maybe she was just being greedy.

That thought made her feel gross and needy. She hoped she was never one of those clingy girlfriends, really she didn’t think she was, no other boyfriend had mentioned it. Maybe she didn’t notice that her neediness bothered them? She was quite aloof to others and what they were thinking.

That would explain the shortness of all her relationships. Wait. Were she and Neji even together? She kept saying girlfriend and relationship, but he’d never mentioned her being his girlfriend, or even asked her to be his girlfriend. 

That was the problem! Was she expecting relationship like qualities from something that wasn’t a relationship! But what about the slight affection he gave her. Now she was confused…

“Mei?” Neji called.

“Hmm?” She blinked back into reality. “Yeah?”

“You’re home.” He said, pointing at her door.

“Oh?” When had they gotten to her apartment? She looked over at him and really wanted nothing more than to kiss him on the cheek but instead opted out. “Goodbye, have a nice night!”

She’d have to figure this out, in order to keep this going right.

A few days later, sparring with Ino, Mei was most definitely losing the hand to hand battle they were having. The idea was to imagine having nothing but their hands. No jutsu or tools. Something told Mei she was fucked if it truly came down to it.

“Ow, shit…” She grumbled as her back came in contact with the hard ground beneath them.

“I didn’t even throw you that hard.” Ino smirked, turning away

“Piss off, sunflower.” Mei kicked her in her knee, sending her to the ground.

She hurried to jump atop her, pressing her knee to her spine and grabbing her elbows. She pulled back and smiled when Ino grunted in pain. After a moment or two, Ino tried to tap but Mei ignored her.

“I will only let you go if you get me a plate of Daifuku.” Mei bargained.

“No way, let go!” She hissed, struggled.

“Guess we’ll be here a while.” Mei snickered.

After a moment, Ino whined. “Fine, I’ll get you some stupid Daifuku.”

“An entire plate?” Mei tugged a little, making the blonde yelp.

“Yes, yes! A whole plate! Now get off!” She yelled.

Mei grinned and released her friend’s arms, happily. She climbed off her and helped her stand up before making her way over to where her water and an unimpressed Sakura were at. Mei smiled cheekily at the medic nin, but when her arms didn’t uncross she frowned.

“Oh come on, I think I did pretty good.” Mei pouted.

Shikamaru glanced at her. “I don’t think you’re supposed to bargain your opponent’s life for sweets.”

“Well, why not? They get to live and I get delights.” She shrugged, drinking water.

“Would you spare a murderer for sweets?” Neji asked, his eyes closed while he leaned against a tree.

Smirking, Mei answered. “If they bought me a plate of Daifuku for each victim, I’d consider it.” 

He opened his eyes to meet hers and raised a brow, it had been the first time she responded to him verbally since they saw each other. She avoided it for the one reason that she’d cave, say screw it to not being clingy. But for once she was thankful for the punch Ino sent to her side, she groaned and tore her eyes away from his to glare at the blonde.

“Sakura! You’re just gonna let her abuse me still?” Mei gasped as the girl started to walk away.

“You just had your knee on her neck.” Sakura gave her a look.

“So?” Mei dragged.

“So? You deserve it.” Sakura stuck her tongue out.

“She hit a tree. With me!” Mei gasped.

“She didn’t bribe the tree.” Hinata giggled from behind.

“Whose side are you on here?” Mei narrowed her eyes. “Hint, you’re supposed to say mine.”

“I feel like if I were on your side, I’d be a dirty fighter.” Hinata reasoned. Mei snorted, and shrugged knowing she was right. 

Somewhere between the training area and the restaurant, Ino managed to coax a piggy back ride out of Hinata, while Mei ended in the back walking next to Neji. How? She hadn’t the closest idea, since she was tugging Sakura’s cheek, childishly, not moments before.

The group died down to silence, which left Mei alone to her thoughts. Which, weren’t bad, whatsoever, really she was contemplating getting a cat. She saw one in an alley and played with it a bit before training. She suddenly wondered if Neji liked cats.

At the thought, Mei sighed softly, thankfully not catching the attention of her friends. Well, all but one. He brushed his hand along hers, making her look down at the slight connection before up to his eyes.

“Hmm?” She questioned.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing, just contemplating.” She answered honestly.

“Contemplating?” He pressed, as they slipped further behind their friends.

Holding your hand or not. Mei hesitated, but admitted. “A cat.”

This seemed to take him by surprise. “A cat?”

“Yep, I think I want one, but I’m trying to think if I really want one.” She felt his hand brush hers again, a bit harder.

“Well, what makes you want one?” He glanced down at her.

“I saw one this morning, he was sweet.” She told him.

He nodded. “What else, makes you want one?”

“Um, let’s see.” She thought for a moment. “I had one when I was a kid, Tomao. She was mean and grumpy. Bit you when you tried to pet her, knocked down three expensive vases, for no reason.”

“And you want another cat?” He raised a brow.

“But.” She continued, shushing him. “She was always there when I was alone, so I wasn’t actually alone. If I cried, she was there sitting on my lap, licking the tears away and then biting me as if telling me ‘Suck it up!’ She had always slept near my bed. Tomao was a very mean, sweet cat. So yes, I want another.”

“Okay, what would make you not want one.” He asked.

Mei’s face instantly deadpanned. “It may try to kill me if I don’t feed it before bed. Like could you imagine, ‘The Great Ninja Mei, death by cat. She should have fed the tiny demon.”

Neji let out a laugh. “If you manage to die to a cat, I don’t think ‘great’ should be on your tombstone.”

Mei elbowed him, laughing too. “Cat’s are natural ninjas! Could slit my throat before I even knew I forgot to feed them!”

“I think that would be your answer then. Don’t get a cat, you may die.” Neji concluded, but noticed Mei had stopped. “Mei? What are you-?”

There she was, still, staring into the trees. Neji looked up to see what had her attention and was amused to find that she was angrily eyeing down a squirrel. He looked to find their friends still walking off in the distance, and was about mention such to Mei, but a small yelp startled him.

Mei was now behind him, watching the squirrel that now stood at the edge of the trail. He looked back at her, trying not to laugh. “Maybe it’s here to finish the job.”

Suddenly, Mei was caught up with the group.

“I hate you. So much.” Mei grumbled.

“What happened to you?” She snapped. “Any other day, you’d be cracking dumb, shitty timed jokes!”

“Now, what are you doing?” She clicked her tongue. “Hiding in a bathroom. What the actual fuck, Mei!”

Mei glared hard at her own reflection. A reflection she’d been staring at for almost an hour. She groaned and dropped her forehead against the reflecting glass. She wanted to cry.

Neji decided to cash in the bowl of ramen she owed him, from a month ago, and her mind instantly deemed it as a date. And no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake the nerves on that thought. So, stupidly she went to Kiba for help.

He only laughed at her for being so tight wound about it. He claimed he just asked her on a date, it wasn’t too big of a deal… 

“Unless, it’s not a date and he’s gonna tell you he hates cats.” 

That sentence made her thump her head again. Leave it to her ex to make her more nervous about the thing she went to him for confidence. He didn’t mean any harm, really, she knew that, but… It really could be just a lunch together, without being together. She hit the mirror again.

“If you thump your head anymore, I’d think you’re trying to get into the mirror.” A woman piped up.

Mei groaned and willed herself not to do it again. “Honestly doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You’re just nervous.” The woman laughed, moving to the sink.

“At this point, I don’t know. I’ve been in here for forty eight minutes, because I’m nervous to go meet the guy that invited me out. ” Mei brushed her hair out of her face.

“He’s been waiting for almost an hour?” She gasped.

“No! No! Only about ten… I’ve been panicking for almost an hour.” Mei corrected.

“You said it yourself, you’re not like this normally, right? Just go out there and be yourself.” The woman encouraged, chuckling. “He asked you on a date for a reason.”

“But that’s the thing! I don’t know if it’s a date! I have to buy him ramen.” She exclaimed. “I just don’t know what we are, and it’s completely screwing up my thought process. Do I go out there and talk like we’re just friends or do I go out there and talk to him like his girlfriend?”

“Are you his girlfriend?” The woman asked.

“I… I don’t know… My best friend says we are, because we kissed twice. But that’s all. He hasn’t asked me to be, and he hasn’t really done anything to make it clear.” She groaned.

“Well,” The woman fixed Mei’s hair, and then her shirt. “Maybe he’ll change that now, so go out there and figure it out, honey.”

The woman gave her a wink before retreating from the bathroom. Mei’s nerves seemed to go with her and finally she felt like she could breathe. With one more glance at herself in the mirror, she nodded and walked out of the bathroom.

She walked up to the table, where Neji was sitting, drinks already placed. She slipped into the seat in front of him, making him open his eyes. “You came from the bathroom?”

“Ah, Ino and Sakura. They had tried to follow so they could spy on the date, almost couldn’t get away.” Mei rolled her eyes.

Neji smirked slightly. “Should’ve told them you were going to hang out with a friend.”

“Hm?” Mei hummed.

“They wouldn’t have wanted to follow you since it’s not a date.” He stated.

“Oh…” That settles that.

After that, Mei could make it any longer than fifteen minutes, before she had to leave. With a gentle excuse that she couldn’t remember very well, she was on her way home, quickly dismissing  his offer to walk her. She held back the tears that burned her eyes, until she was just getting home. And to make it better, she saw Kiba walking with Akamaru.

“Oi, Mei aren’t you supposed to be on your maybe da...te…?” Kiba started to tease her but it died off as soon as he noticed the shine in her eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

Mei just shook head and laid her head on his chest.

Four hours and three empty liquor bottles later, Mei, Kiba, Ino, Hinata and Sakura laughed at the strange sounds that came out of Ino’s mouth as she laughed. After an hour of crying, Mei agreed to invite the ladies over as well. Because as much as Kiba wanted to support her, he had never seen her so hurt over something, he needed help to handle it.

“If you somehow manage to get that full spoon in your mouth I swear to god.” Mei snorted as Sakura struggled to shovel a spoon full of ice cream in her mouth.

“If only her mouth was as big as her head, she’d be done by now.” Ino teased.

Kiba threw a piece of some kind of dried meat at Ino, making Ino dramatically fall into Hinata’s lap. “I’ve been hit.”

“If it takes a piece of meat to take you down, I’m disappointed.” Kiba laughed.

Ino went to flip him off, but Akamaru got in the way, taking both Ino and Hinata to the ground. The sight sent the whole group into a laughing fit, even Sakura who was risking death with the ice cream and spoon finally in her mouth.  As the group quieted, Mei slowly remembered why they were so drunk and tears filled her eyes again.

“Hey, hey! No tears!” Kiba hurried to wipe them away.

“The only tears allowed to fall are because your cheeks hurt from smiling, damn it.” Ino declared, pushing Akamaru off her chest.

“But my heart hurts.” Mei mumbled. “Can’t I cry about that pain?”

“Oh eoush ee uhshent eeerf or ears!” Sakura garbled around her ice cream.

“Sakura… please we can’t understand you…” Hinata said, definitely not as drunk as everyone else.

Disgustingly, Sakura spit the ice cream out into the tub she emptied before trying again. “No, because he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“That was gross…” Ino whispered.

“But, it still hurts, I thought after everything that happened, things would be different. Of course I didn’t think we’d instantly be like in-love-ready-for-kids kinda shit. Just… maybe… Hey-I-like-you-let’s-date kinda shit…” Mei sniffled, the sake making her emotions worse.

“Well, he’s an idiot.” Sakura crossed her arms, watching Mei move to cuddle the large fluff that was Akamura.

Mei scoffed. “Actually, he’s a genius.”

“A ninja genius, not a life genius, obviously.” Kiba corrected, . “Otherwise, he would’ve snatched your heart up when he had the chance.”

“I have to agree with Kiba. My cousin really didn’t think any of this through.” Hinata sighed.

“Yeah, I don’t know what is going through his head but, it’d stupid.” Sakura added.

Ino butted in too. “It was dirty of him to string you along.”

Their words of drunken wisdom and kindness fell over deaf ears as a soft snore erupted through the room. Looking over to where Mei was, they found that she was fast asleep in Akamaru’s fur. And although she was drifting off to dreamland, tears still slipped down her face, letting them know just how bad she was hurt.

The next morning, Kiba grunted when a finger thumped his forehead. It thumped him twice more before he jerked up, almost punching his attacker until he realized it was just Hinata. He rubbed his eye, groggily as she pulled him up off the floor.

“Hina-.” He grumbled.

“Shh!” She pointed at the girl’s that were still asleep. “We’re gonna go talk to my cousin.”

They both looked over at the girl drooling and gripping, Akamaru’s fluff. He was awake and watching the two, but made no effort to get up and move. Kiba reached down to pet him and slip a blanket over Mei’s shoulders.

“Let’s go.”

It being nearly eleven in the afternoon, it wasn’t hard to find Neji. His usual training spot, of course standing still, eyes closed. Probably working on his detection, or concentration. Not that either cared at the moment.

“Hinata, Kib-!” He barely opened his eyes to greet them when Kiba grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the tree behind him. Neji raised a brow, not seeming bothered at all. “Can I hel-?”

“Shut it, I’m hungover and pissed. Decent civility, courtesy of Hinata, is the only thing stopping me from breaking your nose.” Kiba snarled.

Neji looked over to Hinata, who looked less aggressive but just as hateful. “Can I at least know why?”

“Because you’re being stupid.” Hinata said, watching Neji’s eyes narrow in offense. “Either stop leading her on or do something real about it.”

“Leading on? You mean Mei? I’m not leading her on.” Neji tried, only for Kiba to press him harder into the tree.

“Bullshit! You show her slight affection, knowing she’ll bite. But, you leave her hanging.” He glared.

“I’m genuinely not sure what you’re talking about.” Neji stated, same intensity in his own eyes.

“You’re giving her just enough to believe she has a chance with you but you’re not giving her that chance, Neji! You act like you want a relationship with her but then you don’t ask to be in a relationship with her!” Hinata yelled.

Neji furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not? I’m pretty positive I'm dating her."

"Well, she's not so sure." Kiba revealed. 

"I wasn't aware that I had to write my feelings out on a sign, after telling her as well. She not stupid."

"No, but she is confused, insecure and hurt." Hinata said. "She thinks that you guys are still just friends, just close friends now. You don't hold her hand, you haven't asked her or clarified you want her to be your girlfriend. You don't even take her out!"

"I went on a date with her yesterday, so that last one’s bullshit." Neji shoved Kiba's hands off of him and straightened himself. "She left because she didn't feel good."

"She didn't feel good because someone said; 'They wouldn’t have wanted to follow you since it’s not a date'. She doesn't think it was a date, she thinks you just wanted the ramen she 'owed' you!" Kiba yelled. 

"She doesn't believe you want to be with her, and honestly with how you act, I don't believe you do either." Hinata sighed. 

Three loud knocks echoed through Mei's apartment making her groan. Slowly she pulled herself off her couch and again the knocks echoed again. Her groan grew louder, as if her visitor would be able to hear it when they knocked again. 

"Shit, I'm coming! If you don't stop knocking, I will stab you in the fucking-" She yanked the door open to find Neji. "... Throat."

"Would you spare me if I had a surprise for you?" He tried to joke. 

"As hungover as I am… probably not." She rolled her eyes. "But anyway, what are you doing here?"

Akamaru wormed his head between her legs and growled. Mei popped his head, softly telling him to hush and he whined in apology. "Sorry, he's annoyed he's not getting me to himself right now."

"Kiba here?" He assumed. 

"No, Sakura is though." Mei she corrected. "Why, you want me alone?"

"No, that's fine." He shoved his hands in his pockets. But then noticed her shoulders drop and hurried to restate. "Wait, that sounded wrong. Yes, I would love to be alone with you, but you don't have to send her away. I don't care if she knows what I'm here for."

"And what is it you're here for, Neji?" She sighed, jerking away from Akamaru’s tongue on her leg.

"I guess I do have to write it out for you." Neji mumbled. 

"Look, I am too tired and hungry to deal with this right now." She sighed, starting to close the door. 

"Then let's go on a date." He stopped her. He watched her eyes narrow at him and he continued. "It seems that my feelings haven't been very clear recently, and I'm sorry about that."

"I have to go make sure Sakura didn't choke on her ice cream again." She again tried to close the door. 

"I am trying to ask you to be my girlfriend, Mei. I thought I didn't have to ask that question, but I wasn't really making it obvious that I meant for you to be my girlfriend a month ago." Neji admitted. 

"Neji, you didn't say anything…" She huffed, hurt. “I didn’t know what to do or even think! I didn’t know if holding your hand would be pushing limits, or kissing you, or... Or… If you liked cats for fuck’s sake!”

"I am now. I’m sorry it took so long, Mei…” He reached up to wipe the tear from her cheek. “Please Mei.”

“Mei, I swear to gods, if you don’t say yes I will beat you with this spoon!” Sakura yelled from the kitchen and Akamaru barked in agreement.

She sniffled and let out a laugh. “Do you even like cats?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I love cats.”

[fanficsforpogchamps]

Could I possibly get a headcanon for the crusaders reactions to a stand user reader who comes along with Iggy on the plane and their stand can calm anybody or thing down just by releasing a type of mist into the air (a close range type of stand)? Maybe like their first thoughts on them (if that's ok ^^°)

Well of course darling! I will be ever so happy to write this!! I do apologize that it took so long, I’ve had some personal things I’ve needed to iron out before I could start writing again!

Jotaro Kujo-

;Jotaro was… less than pleased to find out ANOTHER person was going to be joining the crusade. Like…

;He is surrounded by idiots, and there’s going to be another potential idiot joining? Yare Yare Daze... 

;When you took your first step off he was shrugging you off, watching as you smile and softly chuckle at the antics of Iggy, before shaking his grandfather's hand in remembrance to say “Yeah, I’m here,” Honestly? Doesn’t care that you’re here.

; The only time he WILL notice you, however, is when you’re standing right in the ground, feet planted firmly in the stand in order to not raise suspicion from N’Doul, the water using stand. He hasn’t attacked you yet, but the panic in the air was making you shiver and fret- as you weren't well built for stress.

;You stand came to life, tall and lean with holes of every size varying across it’s purple body. The legs were too long and thin, the same as the arms were- for the strong looking midsection it had. Its head was incredibly frightening however, as it hadn’t any eyes- simply one longer slit across the upper half of its face, where Jotaro would have assumed its eyes were.

;The thin sheen of sweat across your face was not from the glaring sun beating down on you, Jotaro had initially guessed, but from the yelling of Polnareff for Kakyoin, and the general aura of fight or flight when the stand user initially attacked.

;Because it was just you standing in the sand, the granules sinking your feet ankle deep from the refusal to move

;That’s when he noticed a thin cloud starting to appear over his head. Thin like when you burn incense sticks but smelling so much incredibly better than those stupid wooden sticks.

;It smelt like lavender to him, freshly picked lavender because he knew his mother enjoyed those. More often than not, if he had a few spare coins of change he would go and buy some, to replace the dying ones in the vases at home.

; Not outright giving them to her- but just quick enjoy to make it seem as if those lavenders were in fact not dying, but everlasting.

;His jaw had untensed and eyebrows relaxed, the calming effects of your stand affecting him increasingly and allowing him to do what is known as…

;A pro gamer move. He had launched himself off of the jeep and onto Iggy's stand, riding it like a plane.

;When he had returned, you sat by the boxes, standing at your side as Kakyoin's head rested in your lap. “He’ll be fine,” You spoke reassuringly, calmly swiping away the hair that rested against his fresh wounds- ones you wrapped up gently with spare bandages

;He thinks you’re… interesting, but often uses your stand as a relaxant afterwards- small words and gestures leading you to believe that this teenage boy had been fighting the chance to stay calm.

Kakyoin Noriaki~

;Kakyoin was never one to fret, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched DIO hop from one building to another.

;You sat by his side, silent as always and vigilant for the big baddie.

;Kakyoin had been skeptical when you first arrived, but nonetheless welcomed you with open arms, and apparently it had been you who rested with him those lonely nights before getting him to the hospital to keep him calm and allow him to recover until specialists could look at him.

;He appreciated you greatly, but now was not the time to visit old memories as now was a time for action and patience.

;You noticed the thick tension in the air, and could almost sense Kakyoins anxiety through unspoken words, and the way he constantly tried to crack his knuckles. He was sure this plan was going to work.

;”It’s okay Kakyoin,” You smiled, raising your hand, but your stands arm appeared first and cupping his other jaw, forearm right underneath his nose as a soft mist of purple began leaking from the holes in its arm. “Just breathe it in, and you’ll be fine,”

;The intimacy of the touch nearly caused the student to faint, cheeks flushed red and eyes dilating to try and wrap his head around why. But he figures you could tell he was anxious.

;The mist was calming, soothing, made the knot in his mind unravel and allow for the burning wood and wet forest smell to invade his senses. There was almost a taste to it, but Kakyoin was far too concentrated to find it. There were many things Kakyoin could be thinking about, but the one image that pops to his mind was Jotaro.

;The image of him being hovered over him, stand pulling out the bug that DIO left planted to fester in his brain. The first image of a friend he never knew he would have, the man that accepted his offer to help his mother on the basis that she was kind, and well natured. He loved his parents, but Jotaro refused to allow Kakyoin to sit and sulk, inspiring him to go forward and do what he wanted.

;There was a snap, and both you and Kakyoin looked towards the noise. It had worked! DIO had triggered Kakyoins stand- yet he was easily deflecting the Emeralds like it was nothing. “Don’t do anything stupid,” You requested, your stands hand sliding from his cheek to rest in your lap. “Don’t die,” You asked of him.

;And there was that glint in his eye, the one that knew he wouldn’t break his silent promise to you, as his friend.

Jean-Pierre Polnareff~

; Polnareff was incredibly charmed by yourand your stand, its lean body looming over you like a great oak, its yellow beady eyes occasionally peering out from between the slit over its face and making huffing noises at the jokes Polnareff was making instead of you replying.

; He figured you were shy, or rarely spoke, but let your stand do it for you because- well- what’s more intimate than letting your own soul speak for you? NOTHING I TELL YOU! ; JP was incredibly swooning over you, offering you his hand to you when you had to walk down a few steps, or offering to buy you the most expensive jewelry and food just to impress you.

; Does Polnareff give a shit if you’re male, female, in-between, trans, black, white, asian, american, english or from fucking Antarctica? No! 

; He views you for you, and despite how incredibly gorgeous you look to him, he enjoys your general calming and sweet presence in the group- much better than the ever so stoic Jotaro.

; When Alessi came to attack, however, it was a different story.

; You worried, pondered, and scurried across stalls and market places looking for Polnareff, already missing his sarcastic and flirty nature. The general comfort of having a loud mouth besides you feeling unnatural as Jotaro was much more… quiet.

; And Polnareff? Jesus H Christ he was upset. There was no longer and sort of calming being for him to lean on, for him to get a kick out of. He was a child, covered in his baggy clothes and stupidly cut hair that made him look like a fanboy to his older self.

; Squealing in french was the only way to get anyone to notice, and noticed he got.

; You had come running over when you saw a small boy crying against the window of a store, clearly distressed and wanting help. Jotaro followed behind you, muttering some nonsense of how this was pointless, and that you had to keep looking for Polnareff.

; Yet you hushed him, finger to your lips as you calmly approached the child and touched his shoulder. “Excuse me, little boy, are you alright?” That voice! He knew it! Turning from his wettened arms he stared at your face, hot tears bubbling from his lower lash line. “Que?” he asked, wiping his tears and looking at you once again.

; He knew your name, but the tip of his tongue seemed to have been caught by something as there were no words leaving his mouth. It was a shame, but he knew both you and the larger man standing behind you, gazing at you with such annoyance.

; You began reassuring him, hand carefully stroking through the silver hair that seemed way too familiar to leave alone. Your stand appeared from behind you yellow balls from behind that damn slit staring right into Polnareffs soul. The mist it released was… nice. Calming, soothing. Thick enough to see but thin enough to not become a fog. And the smell? God, it smelt like when you walk past a bakery! Hot pastries and warm, melted chocolate! Just like those stuffed croissants that always costed too much money to buy, but Polnareff could stare at them through the window until smacked with a broom.

;He can remember when his sister was 9, and he used what he had left of his pocket money to buy one, just for her. Her first one was amazing, her eye lit up and there was this sort of glow about her when she realized it was chocolate filled.

; He’d never forget that day, and as the tears dried you began to realize that you had forgotten all about your missing friend. “I’m sorry little one but I must go. I’m searching for a friend. Please stay safe out there!” were your parting words and before Polnareff knew it, you had been whisked away in a crowd of people, leaving him unknowingly open to Alessi again.

Muhammed Avdol~

;Avdol knew you were a saint, fingers wrapped around the coffee mugs delicately in the submarine when you smiled and offered him a hand in knowing.

;Not yet had you met him, the way his smile seemed to bring warmth to your skin.

;It was illuminating and Avdol enjoyed your calming presence. It reminded him a lot of Holly, and how relaxed everyone seemed to feel when they were around. Finding her on the floor that day was uncomfortable, even for Jotaro.

;So when you entered the submarine with him, he could feel the loving nature of your aura.

;It was.. refreshing.

;The coffee was a good wake up call as he listened to your stories of N’doul, Alessi, Maria and more- those stories making him laugh harder than he had before. The vivid and exaggerated details made his eyes crease in laughter, and you stand seemingly huffing in happiness whenever he laughed.

;Your stand was also incredibly intricate with design that he was sure he’d memorized by the time that the next stand user attacked. Every dip and crevice, every deepend hole that seemingly fell into nothing but darkness, and tried to view what was behind the thick shielded faceplate with that slit and nothing but yellow and darkness. He had yet to find out what was behind it.

; He was able to find out what your stand did when you were all knee deep in water as the submarine sank further and further. Joseph had glanced over his shoulder at you, making sure you was okay until he saw the panicked look and saw you struggle to slip on the diving gear, shaking hands nervously fidgeting and missing the buckle every time.

; You stand had arisen, looming far above your frame and released the smoke from the holes in its body, thin fog encasing the room and seeping into the water that was now mid thigh.

; With it encasing the room, he breathed in the smoke, and could immediately feel the effects on his body as his shoulders relaxed and his arms untensed as the dewdrop and food stall smell seemed to get stronger and stronger with every breath he took inwards.

;The memories of being crowded in India coming back greatly, as he stared at his friends' discomfort with how many beggars surrounded them. It had been all in great fun, but he could never forget how refreshing it was to be back in a familiar country, especially one he so thoroughly enjoyed! India was like a second home to Avdol, his knowledge on the food and tradition, the almost unbearable heat, the constant chatter and laughter that emitted from the crowds and flocks of people who were haggling or just buying. He loved India with everything he had in him.

;And so such a familiar smell allowed for him to relax further, to the point where he sauntered over (to the best of his abilities of course) and clipped you in, making sure it was adjusted comfortably. “You should have just asked for help,” ; “Thank you-” Joseph Joestar~

; Joseph was… a loudmouth. He was kind, caring, determined and confident but… 

;Got you guys into quite a bit of trouble. The loudmouth nature he had got you into trouble on too many occasions, and this one was one of them. The look you gave him as he shoved his arm elbow deep in oil made his begin spouting off at how this was the only way

;You knew the stand that grew on his arm was no more than a stand user however, the panic began setting in when he pulled his arm out and saw the lump of the face still there.

;When it rose up and screamed, you jumped and got scared, hands shooting out as you began pushing down on the face, watching as its skin pops between your fingers and its scream became muffled.

;Joseph began yelling at you, telling you to run and other nonsense. “I can deal with this on my own!” He cried out, trying to swat you away before a long, purple hand wrapped around his hand. Your stand!

;The fog had already begun filtering its way into his nose before he realised it, thick purple had seeped from the holes in your stands arm. It smelt like… sweet perfume. The French Connection Eau De Toilette he knew so well had been a gift given to his wife by him, metal fingers wrapped around the box as he watched her face light up. It had been her favourite and long gone from the store's shelf. He had found some strings to pull in order to get some of the last batch ready.

;He smiled softly and relaxed, before you finally smacked the lump and it seemingly disappeared.

;Your stand disappeared, before you removed your hands and stared at the dripping oil. “You owe me,” You snickered, before wiping your palms on your clothes.

[whump-it]

Rory Confronts His Boss

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @saphemme @slaintetowhump @whump-tr0pes

What do you do when your chest wakes you in pain at 2am and then you finally calm yourself down and convince yourself that you're actually going to be ok and yes, you can breathe? You write this at 3am of course.

TW fit mentions of torture, some threatening posturing. Rory stress swearing. I think that's it?  Also Rory is actually a bit of a badass and I love him,

The locality training facility was dark and shut up for the night when Rory got there. The car park was empty save for his car and one other, much more expensive, much newer car. He pulled up into a space far away from it. For whatever reason, he didn't feel much like being close to it.

For the second time that day he thought back to the question that Callum had asked him when he had donated himself. Had Rory ever been to the facility. And the answer had been no because it was invite only. Both the interview to become an AP and the job training took place at the locality collection box itself. He certainly had his invite now. And he couldn't have wanted it less if his life depended on it.

Rory heaved a huge sigh out as he turned the ignition off, pulled up the handbrake, and stepped out of the car. He didn't know his way around here but the front entrance seemed like the most sensible choice. As he approached it, a light flickered on inside and the door swung open. His boss, Mr Newman, stood in the doorway. Arms folded. Frowning. Scowling. Foot tapping.

"Rory," Mr Newman said curtly as Rory drew level with him. "On your own I see."

"I told you I would be," Rory said. "I told you I wasn't going to bring him here and I meant it."

"Mmm. You always were a stickler," Mr Newman said, turning and walking back into the building. "Follow me. The door'll lock behind you."

With no other options, Rory stepped into the reception area and let the door swing shut behind him. It clicked as he did and he glanced back, relieved to see that there was a push button to exit as opposed to any sort of swipe or key card exit. He followed along behind wishing all the while that he could be at home with Callum instead. The thought of him being there on his own made Rory restless. He'd only just got him back. He'd made the worst mistake of his life when he'd followed the rules and let Callum donate himself. Callum had had the most terrible three years imaginable until Rory had got him back. The universe had somehow given Rory what he considered to be an underserved second chance. And he was at the locality facility instead of where he should be. At home. Holding Callum. Cleaning Callum. Feeding Callum. Comforting Callum.

He walked the barely lit corridors a few steps behind his boss until they finally stopped at a door. Mr Newman took a key card from his pocket and swiped it down a pad to the side of the door, lighting up a tiny green light and releasing the lock on the door with a quiet click. Inside the room was Mr Newman's lavishly appointed office. A name plaque on the desk. On the very large desk. Bookshelves and certificates and family photos. Two comfortable chairs near a huge window that showed nothing but darkness outside, and a small table between them with a vase of flowers. Mr Newman motioned to one of the comfortable chairs.

"Take a seat," he said, going to his desk to gather up a small stack of papers. Rory did as he was bid although he would have preferred to stay standing. To stay near the door. Every inch further away from Callum was an inch too far. Like a physical ache that his body was tired of feeling.

"So," Mr Newman said, sitting opposite him and looking at the papers. "Callum Morris."

"Morrow," Rory said.

"I'm sorry?"

"His name's Callum Morrow. Is that even the paper work that I submitted when he donated?"

"It's the paper work we have."

"Then I'm just going to go ahead and assume that it is, in fact, not the paper work that I submitted. You know something? It might have taken me more than a few days to actually find Callum again? But it's taken me all of one conversation with you to lose all faith in this system."

"This system employs you and pays your wages so if I were you I'd be keeping a civil tongue in my head," Mr Newman put the papers on the table with calm ease although Rory strongly suspected that it was because he now knew that it was a useless pile of paper. Rory sighed and bent his head forward to run his fingers through his hair. He was tired. He wanted to go home to Callum.

"I should've checked more thoroughly," Rory said, sitting back up straight. "Checked that he really wanted to go through with it."

"That wasn't your job Rory. You know that."

"Well maybe it should've been," Rory said, his voice a little louder. His fingers back in his hair and twisting a bit. Mr Newman stood and walked to one of the bookcases to take down a decanter and glass, pouring himself a drink of some sort of honey coloured liquor.

"Look," Mr Newman said, taking a sip of his drink. "It's the Titanic effect." Rory frowned at him from his seat. "You don't know there's a problem until something goes wrong. That's when you can make improvements."

"Improvements!?" Rory shouted, standing and shoving the chair back as he did, teetering it on two legs before it righted itself. "You think this needs "improvements"!?"

"I can see you're angry..."

"You're damn right I'm angry," Rory shouted, stepping around the stupid little table with its stupid vase of flowers. "Do you know how long Callum was out there? Do you? Three fucking years, that's how long..."

"... and he will be brought to the facility and reconditioned..."

"Like hell he will," Rory said, trying to control his temper and his voice. "He's staying with me."

"You can't do that Rory,"

"Can't I?" Rory shouted, entirely failing in his attempt to maintain his calm. "You show me in your fucking contract where it says what happens when a collector tortures the ever living fuck out of you for three years and then dies. You show me where huh!?" Rory breathed deeply in and out, his chest heaving from his sudden outburst of anger. He spoke more calmly. More quietly. "Just some compassion. Please. It's not as if he's in any state to be speaking out against your programme."

"It's not my programme Rory," Mr Newman said, as calmly as ever. He sipped his drink again and Rory imagined shoving the glass into his face with the heel of his hand.

"That's just splitting hairs," Root said. "You know exactly what I mean. He's hardly in a state to speak at all. And whenever he does it's to beg to go back to be tortured some more because he thinks he deserves it or some shit. So please. Leave him be. Please."

"If his selector is dead," Mr Newman said, draining his glass then refilling it. "Why does he keep asking to go back?"

"He...uh... he doesn't know."

"Well now that is very interesting," Mr Newman drank some more.

"Don't you even think," Rory hissed. "Don't you even think about putting this on me. I did everything by your book. I checked everything."

"And yet we have this poor boy being tortured, as you tell it, for three years by the Selector that you provided him to. And now he's in your apartment locked away and you're refusing to bring him to the safety of his locality training facility."

"I know the Programme inside out," Rory said, stepping closer to Mr Newman. "I have read and re-read every piece of paper work. I have checked every form. It all checked out at the time."

"Yet suddenly it didn't anymore," Rory stepped closer still, making Mr Newman break off his sentence with a nervous laugh. "You don't want to threaten me Rory."

"Like you threatened me on the phone? But you're right. I don't want to. I want to go back to Callum which is exactly what I'm going to do." Rory stepped back and felt the briefest surge of pleasure at the look on his boss's face as he did so.

"Have it your own way," Mr Newman said as Rory pushed the door handle down and opened the door. "You just be careful." Choosing not to answer, Rory stepped out if the office and resisted the urge to slam the door behind himself. He traced his way back through the corridors and out to his car, all the while resisting the temptation to check if he was being followed.

He barely remembered the car ride back to the apartment, the only proof that it happened being that he'd made it and not crashed his car doing so in such a rage filled haze. He fumbled his keys until he finally managed to get into his apartment, cursing at the keys for being so difficult and throwing his jacket on the floor in a fit of temper.

"Callum?" Rory called out. He couldn't see him but he could swear that he smelt food. He walked through to the living area and peered around the corner to see that his dining table had been cleared and cleaned. And that there was a steaming dish of pasta with sauce on it. Accompanied by what looked to be a tumbler of vodka, a glass of water, and a piece of kitchen towel folded neatly as though it were a real napkin.

"Cal?"

"Uh...uhhh....ummm.... I'm sorry...umm... I'm sorry," He could hear him but he still couldn't see him.

"Cal where are you?"

"Umm... I'm sorry. I'm...umm..." Callum peeked out from under the table, cluthing on to his filthy teddy tightly. "I mm... made you f...food and I've waited. I p...pr... promise. I haven't had any."

Rory crouched down and slowly worked his way towards where Callum was still half hiding.

"I've been good," Callum whispered. "M...m...mmm...master Hayden can know I've been good." Rory let his head fall forward as he sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "I know. You've been the best sweetheart. Ok? The best. What do you want me to do? You can say. I want you to say."

"Umm..." Callum nudged closer to Rory, haltingly, stiltingly. An inch at a time and bending as he went until his cheek was pressed to the floor by Rory's knee. "Please eat... please... I'm sorry it's not better. I'll try harder next time."

Rory sighed and gently rubbed his fingers through Callum's hair. "No pain for this ok? And then I'll eat."

Beneath his fingers he felt Callum nod.

[everysongineverykey]

WARNING! LEGACY SPOILERS!!

The table came crashing onto the floor with a smashing of wood and a scream, the owner of whom was difficult to identify. Tam, the person who had thrown it, threw up his hands in angry defense.

“For the last time, a hot dog is not a fucking sandwich!” he yelled, his eyes ablaze with fury.

Sophie furiously scrambled to her feet. No. He wasn’t going to have the last word. Not on her watch.

“IF A HOT DOG ISN’T A SANDWICH, THEN BIANA’S NOT A VANISHER, YOU… YOU…” she fumbled for a good insult.

“Crusty, silver-eating, bad rip-off of a hot topic clerk?” Keefe suggested helpfully.

“YEAH!” Sophie screamed. “AND IF YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND BASIC LOGIC, THEN LET’S LOOK IN THE ELF!” She strode to the bookshelf and pulled out The Elf’s Comprehensive Dictionary And Thesaurus, Approved And Created By Councillor Bronte, Language Enthusiast, or TECDATAACBCBLE officially. Or again, as an easier name the ten of them had made up themselves, The Elf.

“By the power vested in me by The Elf’s Comprehensive Dictionary And Thesaurus, Approved And Created By Councillor-” (“Just say The Elf!” whined Marella) “-Bronte, Language Enthusiast,” Sophie continued angrily, flipping through The Elf’s many pages, “I hereby pronounce that a hot dog shall henceforth be known by all the Lost Cities as a form of sandwich, as proven by… THIS DEFINITION!”

She slammed the book down onto the couch and triumphantly stabbed a finger at the definition of “sandwich.” Linh bent her head and read it out loud-

“An item of food consisting of two pieces of bread with meat, cheese, or other filling between them, usually as a light meal.”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For a second Tam looked like he was moments away from grabbing Sophie, who was now sitting smugly on the couch staring at him, and throttling the life out of her and everyone else in the room.

And then he sighed and closed his eyes, smiling slowly when he opened them again.

“All right, Sophie. You’ve given me some very solid proof. Well done you.”

Sophie looked so smug that even Keefe wanted to wipe that stupid smile off her face.

Tam walked calmly, almost happily, over to the far corner of the room, and turned around, admiring a painting on the wall. Then he suddenly turned to the others again and smiled with the air- at least, Sophie thought so- of a TV movie villain who was about to reveal his secret identity to the heroes.

“It was very clever, you know, pulling out The Elf like that. I don’t know if I would’ve thought of that. A real kid genius, that’s you.” He said all this while straightening a few ornaments on the mantelpiece absentmindedly, not looking at any of them. Still smiling. “I suppose now I should admit defeat.”

“That’d be appropriate, yes,” said Sophie, still smug, but more cautious. She didn’t like the way Tam was acting.

“But,” he continued, finally turning to face them, “I’m afraid there’s one crucial fact you’ve overlooked.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

Tam picked up The Elf and flipped to a different page.

“You see, my dear Sophie, if we are using The Elf as our source, then we must heed all its definitions, and if we do that, we must remember…”

He suddenly exploded, shoving The Elf in Sophie’s face and pointing to another definition, his face convulsed with anger, his previous attitude vanished without a trace.

“THAT IT DEFINES A HOT DOG AS A FUCKING FRANKFURTER!”

He threw The Elf across the room, shattering an expensive vase sitting on a shelf. Sophie leapt to her feet, angry and flustered.

“But- But that doesn’t mean anything!” she blustered desperately. “A frankfurter could be considered filling!”

“OH FUCKING REALLY?” Tam demanded. He knew he had the upper hand. “THEN LET’S ASK THE ELF, SHALL WE?” He raced towards the shelf where the book had been thrown, but Sophie was determined to win the argument and threw her entire body weight on him, knocking them both to the floor. A mad fistfight followed. Dex managed to avoid their flailing limbs and picked up the book calmly, flipping to the f section.

“GUYS!” he yelled. Sophie and Tam did not look up. Tam had two black eyes by now, and Sophie was struggling to avoid another punch to her split lip. Dex was pretty sure he also saw a gap in her teeth that wasn’t there the day before.

He gave up trying to get their attention, and read out the definition of frankfurter. 

“A seasoned smoked sausage made of beef and pork.”

Silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of Tam and Sophie’s bloody brawl.

“Well, that didn’t solve anything,” grumbled Dex, closing The Elf. Suddenly, Biana’s eyes lit up.

“Wait a minute- hey, Sophie?”

Sophie did not answer.

“Tam? Sophie? Guys?”

Neither of them paid any attention to her calls- they were both battered and bruised all over, but still fighting.

Biana sighed, then walked over to Dex.

“Dex,” she said, calmly and professionally, “on the count of three, would you be a dear and hold Sophie down? I’ll grab Tam.”

Dex acquiesced. 

At the number, they both dropped to the ground and grabbed their assigned person’s arms- Dex hooked his around Sophie’s, stopping her from punching, and Biana did the same with Tam.

“What the hell’re you doing?” growled Sophie. Her hair was disheveled, and some of it had clearly been ripped out in chunks.

“There’s no need for this anymore,” Biana said, remaining as calm and collected as ever. “I’ve figured it out.”

They both stopped resisting.

“Fihured wha ou?” said Tam. Clearly his bruised tongue was giving him trouble.

“I know what a hot dog is.”

The room fell silent again.

“Now, if you’ll both get up and stop fighting, I’ll explain.”

They both reluctantly got to their feet and stumbled over to the couch. The others stared at them, a little scared. Biana stood up and cleared her throat.

“The Elf defines a sandwich as two pieces of bread with filling between them. A hot dog bun, however, is only one piece of bread.”

Sophie’s first instinct was to jump to her feet, but she controlled herself.

“Therefore, we must conclude that a hot dog… is not a sandwich.”

Sophie did not control herself this time. Biana put a hand up to stop her. Surprisingly enough, it worked.

Tam looked like a seven-year-old who had just proven that his dad was the coolest.

“In fact,” continued Biana, “it is something entirely different.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows.

“But- but what else could it possibly be?” asked a confused Wylie.

“It’s a taco,” said Biana, with all the foolish confidence of Don Quixote.

All of the others turned furious eyes on her, and in a matter of seconds Biana was down on the floor being beaten and battered by the rest of the kids, who were all chanting “NOT A TACO! NOT A TACO! NOT A TACO!”

Marella set a poker on fire and was about to beat Biana with it when the door opened.

“Hey, everyone, sorry I’m-”

Fitz couldn’t even finish his sentence when he beheld the scene before him. Keefe raced towards him and pinned him to the wall.

“Quick!” growled Keefe, “What’s a hotdog?”

All eyes were on Fitz.

“…Isn’t it that thing with the sausage in the bun that you usually eat for breakfast?”

Grady and Edaline came home that day to find the entire house destroyed, Marella hurling fireballs at everyone, Fitz and Biana lying unconscious in  the rubble, Linh trying to drown everyone, Tam unleashing shadowflux, Wylie burning people with the light of a million suns, Sophie inflicting all manner of pain onto her friends, Keefe throwing goblin throwing stars left and right, and Dex shooting all kinds of guns and using all kinds of weapons that he himself had built. Keefe had been heard to yell “MY MOM’S IN THE FUCKING NEVERSEEN, BITCHES, DON’T FUCK WITH ME!” while Linh seemed to be speaking some ancient sea language that was definitely summoning krakens as she chanted. Sophie might have been speaking in biblical tongues, but it wasn’t clear. Her voice was strangled and confusing. She was definitely being possessed, though, by… something. Marella was chanting in the ancient tongue of Pyrana, the great elven goddess of fire and fury, and was summoning what looked to be demons. The krakens and the demons began to fight at this point. Wylie, meanwhile, appeared to be pulling actual stars out of the sky and throwing them at people, screaming, “MY DAD DIDN’T ALMOST DIE FOR THIS SHIT!” 

Dex was just singing Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger very loudly.

They were all exiled to an Atlantian prison colony in the Mariana Trench a couple days later, and they never did come to an agreement over the identity of a hot dog.

[boymeetsweevil]

Another draft because FS is taking too long

Title: two wrongs don’t make a right (so what do two douchebags and a dweeb make?)

Douche/fuck boy Jimin and Jin, weirdo!OC

Jimin waits until the girl’s tiny frame disappears down the hallway in a blur of overly familiar stained sweats before turning to stare down a very sheepish looking Jin.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it and making him resemble a cockatoo.

“Dude, relax. I get it, you have a rep to maintain. Everyone ventures outside their type for a first time.”

Jin winces. He knows he’s known for being incredibly picky—only ever sleeping with 4.0 girls (the number referring to their maximum dress size and minimum GPA). Someone even did a story on it in the Hot Takes section of the school magazine. He’s still not sure if it’s a moment he should proud of.

“About that…” he trails off and tugs nervously at the throw blanket he hastily clothed himself with when Jimin burst into their shared living room only to catch him in a rather compromising position. With that girl of all people.

“What?”

“Itsnotthefirsttimeanditwontbethelast”

Jimin blinks slowly, trying to process the flurry of words and Jin’s ashamed tone. When what Jin said finally hits him, he grins darkly.

“Man, c’mon. Don’t joke like that about her, its not nice.”

“Jimin, I’m—,” Jin looks around the hallway suspiciously before dragging Jimin into the dorm and slamming the door shut. “I’m being serious, okay?” Jimin’s jaw drops and he begins to sputter.

“But…why her?”

The first time Jimin encountered you was during a particularly late night in the stacks of the library last semester. The year was starting off hard and he was getting his ass kicked in one particular introductory psych class.

At around 1 in the morning, he had one more problem to finish on his take-home exam but was desperately stuck. He remembered seeing someone who he recognized from class sitting in the economics section. He thought it was odd initially. Usually no one sat there because the smell from the librarians’ bathroom often carried over. And no one wanted to study to the smell of coffee shits.

Taking a break, he grabbed his laptop and wandered around the stacks to find the classmate. When he found you, you were in the process of packing up, struggling to get your earphones into the headphone jack of your phone while also carrying a stack of periodicals and a burger from the campus grill, which happened to be leaking ketchup onto your already dingy tracksuit. He approached you carefully.

“Hey, you’re in Professor Kang’s class, right?”

“Huh?”

His voice startled you and you lost your precarious grip on your stuff. The poorly wrapped burger fell to the floor and bled a little onto your white converse. The periodicals fluttered down around your feet.

“Shit, sorry. Lemme help you,” he offered as he put his laptop down. You gasped from your spot already crouched on the ground.

“No, please, it’s really okay. Please, I’m fine, I don’t need—“

But he already had one printout from the stack in his hand and automatically turned it over. When Jimin looks back on the memory, he thinks that this may have been the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life.

He would later find out after a nervous google search that the paper in his hand, and probably 80 percent of the papers on the ground, were called fursonas. While a handful might have been somewhat decent, most of them were of overly buff rabbits with bubble butts raised for the viewer or tigers fisting weeping, veiny dicks over pastel backgrounds. The one he held was of a duck, or something, with a weight lifter’s body with an obscene expression on its face while tentacles swarmed it from all angles. The implications of what might be happening in the picture made Jimin’s head hurt.

“Oh my god, what the fuck. What the fuck,” he whispered. He was so stunned that he let you rip the page from his hand.

“It’s called fur-centric hentai and its art,” you hissed. The line sounded mechanical and well-practiced if you asked Jimin. He watched you gather the rest of your belongings quickly, burger included, before leaving him crouched in the economics stacks.

Jin snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s zoned out face only to have him be brought back to reality with a look of slight disgust.

“What’s your problem, fix your face,” Jin snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you chose her, of all people. You remember that story I told you about the Econ stacks. I was so scarred, I got a C on that test.”

“Pretty sure you got a C because you didn’t realize there was a second page of the homework.”

“Well, if she hadn’t thrown her weird animal dicks all over the place, I would have realized there was a back and finished the assignment”

Jin sniffs and drops the blanket he was wearing, before walking over to the kitchen to get a drink, naked as the day he was born. Jimin follows on autopilot.

“Maybe you should stop trying to yuck my yum,”Jin says over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. I’m just saying, man. She’s weird. And gross. And more importantly not.Your. Type.” He enunciates each word with a poke to Jin’s bare back while he gets them some beers.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? That’s why I keep it discrete. Why do you think I told you not to come home every Tuesday and Thursday at until after 8:30?”

“You said you had lab.”

“How the hell could I do a lab in our apartment?”

“It…It could happen.”

“I’m a poetry major,” Jin pinches the bridge of his nose at his roommate’s stupidity, “Damnit Jimin.”

Jimin purses his lips when he realizes he might be even dumber than he thought.

“Wait a second, you’ve had lab,” he makes giant air quote gestures, “for, what, 2 months now? You’ve just been fucking her this whole time?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jin takes another swig from his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says. The matter of fact air of his response makes something glitch in Jimin’s brain.

“What the hell, dude? That’s a lot of repeat service. Does she have something on you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did you break an expensive-ass vase or something?” Jimin stops to think, his mind running wild with possibilities. “Holy shit, are you being pimped out?”

“No. God, would you just shut up?” Jin sighs quietly. “I’m sleeping with her so much because she’s the best I’ve ever had.”

Jimin takes a step back at the defeated sincerity in Jin’s tone.

“How? What about that time with that other girl--what was her name?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair trying to remember any name of one of many the girls Jin has had a fling with. “Oh! Irene or something? What about her?”

“I mean, Irene was fine. She gave pretty good head. But last Thursday I thought I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

“You ‘thought’?”

Jin looks up wistfully somewhere behind Jimin’s head at the memory. “Well then she came over the following Tuesday and rocked my shit,” he smirks. “And then that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

“So she gives good head. Who cares? There’s plenty of girls on campus who give good head and also don’t draw furry porn for a living and wash their damn sweatpants.”

“You don’t understand, dude. It’s not just the head. It’s the head, and the handjobs, and the pussy. It’s everything.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “The pussy is better than the handjobs?” He has to try hard not to look impressed. Meanwhile Jin is smilng, almost relieved now that the secret is out and he can talk openly about the mindblowing sex he’d been having.

“The first time she jerked me off, I passed out immediately after I came and woke up late to the class the next afternoon.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but motions with a hand for Jin to continue.

“The first time she blew me I couldn’t even walk afterward.”

“Wait...was that the day you told me you thought you had a sprained ankle? The one that healed after 24 hours?”

“Yep.”

The smug tone and the second stupid lie make Jimin want to rip his hair out. “Why do you lie so much,” he whispered, pain in his voice.

“I wasn’t lying, I really thought I had a sprained ankle.”

“From a blowjob?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What about the, uh, the pussy,” Jimin asks after realizing the FBI probably won’t come through the doors and snipe him for talking about vagina.

“The one time she let me hit it raw, I cried.,” Jin says, absolutely beaming.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though. I think she was gonna let me do it again today.” Jin closes his eyes and smiles softly while Jimin looks on, unamused.

“So? What happened today? She underperform or something?” There’s a hint of jealousy and a lot of curiosity in his tone, but Jimin would deny it if anyone asked him.

“No, asswipe. She got spooked because you showed up when you weren’t supposed to.”

“Well, sorry for ruining your lies,” Jimin snaps, cracking open his own beer.

“You think this is a joke?” Jin shoves Jimin in the chest roughly. “We didn’t get to finish because of you. Now I have to jerk off with my own hand. That’s pathetic”

“And what were you doing before you met her? Listen to yourself, she’s making you crazy. No one is that good in bed.”

Jin stomps over to the couch and settles down before turning and looking at Jimin over the backboard.

“You know what? You go and sleep with her 3--no--4 times. And if she doesn’t completely fry your brain, I’ll pay for any and all of your takeout for the next month. But If she does, you gotta switch mattresses with me and not come by the dorm until after 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from then on.”

“Dude, gross I don’t want your sex soaked mattress. It’s the same as yours anyway. Minus the ten gallons of old jizz on it.”

“No, it’s not. You have that, like, Tempurpedic thing.”

“True,” Jimin nods thoughtfully, “But don’t you think it would be weird if the roommate of the guy she was fucking started trying to get in her pants? Also, I could just lie and say she didn’t do it for me. Then you’d be forced to pay for my food and—Hold on. If she’s so good, why are you so willing to pawn her off to me?”

“Why do you ask so many stupid questions? First of all, she’s not mine just because I’m sleeping with her. I’m just telling you to go see if she’ll let you. I mean, there’s no guarantee. She barely even gave me a shot.”

“She barely gave you a shot? But you’re, like, the campus prince”, more air quotes, “How did this even happen?”

“Well, to make a long story short, we were both high at her sorority and I’d heard rumors about her from Wonho, so I went to…talk to her in her room.”

“Wonho is Wonho, though. He’d fuck anyone if the weed was good.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my friend. He has a diverse and sophisticated palate. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to weed and sex. Once I took him up on his suggestion and she said yes, I never looked back,” Jin says with a dreamy voice.

Jimin watches the back of Jin’s head loll on the sofa. When a soft sigh emerges from where the older man is sitting, Jimin recoils and runs out of the kitchen, away from the couch.

“Are you jerking off right now? Dude. Not cool.”

“Get the fuck out, then. It’s Thursday, which means I’m getting off by 7:30pm and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s here when it happens.”

“Fine,” Jimin huffs and reluctantly stuffs his feet back into his sneakers where they lie by the door. “I hope your dick chafes.”

Jin purposefully releases another, louder moan and Jimin runs out of the apartment.

“I’ll have an order of the half crispy, half spicy and a large coke. Thanks,” Jimin says to the clerk at the grill before checking his phone for the 8th time in the hour.

8:01 Jimin - Are you done yet?

             (8:10 read by Jin)

8:11 Jin - yeah but round two starts soon so

8:11 Jin - *middle finger emoji*

Jimin quickly shuts down his messenger app and opens up Flappy Bird while he sits at a table and waits for his order number to be called.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid dick, kicking me out of the stupid apartment. Fuck you, dickhead,” Jimin mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?” 

Jimin’s head whips up at the infantile voice coming from the seat across from him. Jeon Jungkook is sitting at his table, eating a veggie burger. Who the hell orders a veggie burger from a chicken place?

“Were you talking to me,” Jungkook asks again, pushing his bulky glasses up with a finger.

“Jeon, why would I be talking to you? A better question is why the hell are you talking to me?

[soundofseventeen]

Home (Lee Jihoon)

Hi! Nothing to add other than I know Erin posted a Woozi thing last week, oops! Credits to the owners for the gifs! -Bee

Word count: 5819

“So, what do you think?” Jihoon asked his group mates excitedly, closing the Macbook. After spending so much time cooped up in the recording studio perfecting the album, he was finally ready to show them the track that would make their latest comeback remarkable, though that wasn’t exactly until the next month.

“Well, it’s great,” Soonyoung nodded after a moment of silence, “but do you think Getting Closer is the one to go with? I know we wanted something different but don’t you think it’s a bit...too much? I don’t mean that in a bad way, because look at the choreography we were able to come up with but I think it’s not the song to go with.”

“It’s either that or Good to Me.” The former rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I doubt we could come to an agreement on which unit song we can choose.”

“I’m sure that’s not what Hoshi hyung means,” Wonwoo interjected. “You worked hard on the song, and it deserves the recognition. I think what he was trying to say is that we’re already performing it at MAMA in Hong Kong and we should give everyone something else.” He drummed his fingers on the table fiddling with his cellphone.

“Good to Me does have potential,” Seokmin hummed, as positive as ever. “I’m all for Getting Closer too. Honestly hyung, whichever one you pick, we’ll be fine with.”

Chan, more interested, or rather annoyed, than the new pimple appearing on his cheek than the conversation, put the compact mirror down to voice his thoughts. “You’ve worked hard enough with Getting Closer and by the time we release the album completely, the Carats will be bored of what we gave them.”

“If we have to choose, I think we’d be better with Good to Me for the comeback song.” Junhui shrugged. (He was still pissy over the fact that the company had chosen for Seventeen to release a single the day after he released his own. “They could suck it,” Seungcheol consoled him, irritated at the lost battle.)

“But it also has the vibes of Getting Closer Minghao pointed out. “Similar ones at least. Since you’re asking us hyung, I don’t think you’re giving us many options to work with.”

Jihoon pursed his lips in agitation. He glanced at the time, making a face when he saw it was past midnight. “I’m not arguing with you guys tonight over what we should do. Go get some rest already. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“You’re not leaving yet?” Seungcheol furrowed his brows while he saw the 11 other boys standing up and stretching.

“Too much work to do still,” he waved him off, already opening a new tab and typing out an email to Bumzu about the possibility of using a new song. The downside of asking for 12 other opinions was that someone was bound to share a different one, and causing some sort of ruckus, like now.

“Alright,” he sighed, patting the younger’s shoulder, “just don’t pester Beomju hyung for too long. He’s a busy man. And don’t forget to call Y/N or something. Hey Mingyu, wait for me!”

However, by the time Jihoon had checked his messages he was already inside the apartment so he didn’t bother texting you back. He saw you asleep on the couch, a telltale sign that you had waited for him to come home. He felt a little guilty waking you up, but he couldn’t leave you there. “Jagiya, I’m here. You can go to bed now.” He smiled at your sleepy face, aware that you could throw something at him for waking you up, but taking the risk anyway.

You rubbed your eyes, returning the smile as his lips touched your hair. “What time is it? No, don’t answer that. Let’s just go to sleep?” Your eyelids closed involuntarily again, which your boyfriend took as a sign to guide you to the bedroom and when you climbed in, snuggled the pillow closest to you. “Aren’t you gonna get in so you can tell me about your day?”

“I just need to shower first.”

“‘Kay.”

“Are you gonna be able to stay up that long Jagiya?”

“No. Good night.” You opened one eye, still somewhat able to make him out. “I love you.”

*

“...and even though I was late, we were still able to go out for dinner,” Jihoon heard Seungkwan swoon to Mingyu the next day. “And then, we stopped by the park and played on the swings until we got kicked out by the cops. How did I get so lucky? Oh, good morning hyung!”

“Good morning.” He scratched the back of his head. “Did you guys have a good night?” He proceeded to walk in front of them which the other two took as a sign to follow him as they recounted their evening events of dinner, movies and a chase scene involving a dog, followed by the idle chatter of the boys already inside the booth.

“Have you decided on what you wanted to do?” Minghao asked after the formalities.

“I talked to Beomju hyung last night. Getting Closer will be our comeback song for both things.” He could hear the disdained huffs and sighs of annoyances. “And I had an epiphany last night. Since nothing has been recorded to perfection yet, I’d like a demo of each of you singing the entire thing again, so we can perfect this and see how we can distribute the lines. Hannie hyung, you’re up first.” He distributed 12 sheets of paper, each containing the lyrics, giving them a few minutes to more or less memorize particular lines before they scattered about, vocalizing, harmonizing, possibly rapping the suggestions, all music to Jihoon’s ears.

*

“Do that part again, but Not. So. High. And. Faster.”

“Here’s a thought: maybe I’m not cut out for this line. Give it to someone else.” Joshua, normally calm and collected, promptly removed his headphones, muttering a few choice words and walking out to catch his breath before he lost his temper. He knew when Jihoon turned into Woozi, it was best to leave everything before starting over

“If you’re gonna talk shit, at least do it in Korean!” Jihoon called him out which earned him the finger. He massaged his temples, nothing going to plan and getting ready to tell the president or whoever was in charge of their publicity to call off MAMA and get another group to do it. (Although, Seungcheol was in charge of that, but then they’d have to do a vote and things could get messy.) A knock on the door. “I’m not gonna talk to any of you right now unless you figured out how to listen to directions, so don’t bother coming in.”

“It’s me,” you called, opening the door hesitantly. “I thought you could use a lunch break. Can I come in?”

He sighed quietly, clearly not in the mood for interaction. “Just go ahead and leave the plate there. I’ll eat later.” He smiled involuntarily at seeing you come in, confusion quickly replacing his features when he saw a giant flower vase in your other hand. “Are those for me?”

“Seungkwan, actually. I was on my over here when reception asked if I could bring them to him. He’s a lucky dude, what with the way his love brings him flowers. Everyone else must be jealous.”

“I’ll make sure he gets them. Jagiya, did you wanna eat here with me?” He noticed the extra takeout box, the conclusion more probable than bringing it for one of the other boys.

“If you’re busy, I can come back later or wait until you come home. Maybe we can catch dinner or something?”

“Sure,” he waved you off, already opening his food despite his earlier protest and taking a bite. Maybe all he needed was lunch.

“I’ll see you later.” You smiled at him, trying not to let his brisk behavior affect your mood. “I love you.” He nodded in affirmation and you left as quickly as you came in.

“Oh hey, Jagi? Do you think you can pick up my suit from the dry cleaners? It’s supposed to be ready today.”

*

“How am I supposed to do it to your liking Jihoon?” Soonyoung snapped a couple of weeks later. He didn’t like facing off against his best friend, but the tensions were high and with the trip to Hong Kong around the corner, the leaders’ icy attitudes rarely diffused the situations. Being a perfectionist himself, he knew hard work and dedication, but he and they already had everything down, and wasn’t about to change the routine.

“I don’t know! You’re the choreographer, so fix it!” Though Getting Closer barely exceeded his expectations, he wasn’t about to let Soonyoung shirk that same responsibility.

“What do you want me to do? Throw Vernon on top of the boys while he does his part?”

“Perfect! If you had that thought an hour ago, we could’ve avoided this fiasco.” He turned his attention to the eldest, whose focus was on the latest recorded practice. “And you? What have you contributed lately?”

“Absolutely nothing. In fact, I feel like I’ve done so little throughout this comeback prep, I feel like I should quit. Oh wait, I can’t do that, can I because you WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO HANDLE 11 OTHER BOYS NOW WOULD YOU?” He abruptly changed the video, opting to see some kind of happiness. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Look I get that you’re stressed, really I do, but if the pressure is too much, we can back out, get more time to-”

“NO. We told them we’d be ready, so now we have to be.”

“At what expense Jihoon? Because from the looks of it, you seem to be okay with pissing everyone off. God, I wonder how Y/N deals with you at home.”

“Y/N is not relevant right now; and if you don’t wanna see me pissed off, I’d recommend adjourning this stupid meeting so we can all get back to our lives. Soonyoung, I don’t care how you do that routine change, but get it done or I will. This needs to be perfect.”

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol demanded.

“I’m gonna go see what your unit is doing. They’re lagging their parts. I’m surprised you didn’t see that even though you’re the one who’s been watching the videos.” He opened the door to find you, hand balled into a fist ready to knock, holding out the cellphone he’d forgotten at home with the other hand and merely brushed passed you, calling out to the remaining members of the hiphop unit to step up their game and that Hansol better be prepared for a change in dance.

“What, are you gonna be their unit leader too?”

*

“I’m sorry I can’t make it tonight Jagi,” Jihoon explained over the phone or rather voicemail. “I promised I’d be here with them tonight. I’ll see you when we get back from China. Take care of yourself while I’m gone.” Once Jihoon clicked, he downed a shot of some tequila Minghao had imported from Mexico, making a face at the way the aftertaste managed to burn. “How do people drink this? Ugh.”

Junhui held up a key lime he’d been sucking on. “Apparently you’re supposed put that in there and maybe some salt to help.” He poured Jihoon another shot, and squeezed the remainder of the juice into it, clinking his own with it.

“Yeah, no still gross,” he commented after he finished it. What other options do we have?”

“You lived here for years and you still don’t know what we have? Get outta here dude.” A third one for both.

“I’m not trying to drink myself to oblivion, especially since we’re getting on a plane in a few hours. Lesson learned.” He shuddered from a distant memory that haunted him from to time. “Where is everyone?”

Junhui shrugged as if to say “Suit yourself” before fixing up his fourth shot. “Seungkwan said he’ll meet up with us at the airport tomorrow, Mingyu said something about a date so he’ll be back later. Jeonghan and Joshua hyungdul went to bring pizza and snacks with the money you gave Wonwoo. Hoshi hyung is looking for a movie. And here comes Minghao now. Hi Hao!” He waved happily.

Minghao gave the older Chinese boy a weird look before opening various cupboards and pantries, searching for anything that appealed to him, settling for a bag of some sour candies, an unsatisfied huff leaving his lips. “Tell me Woozi hyung. Why are you here with us and not at home with Y/N?”

“I have a lot to make up to you guys.” He grabbed a handful of the sweets, puckering when he shoved some in his mouth. “Might as well start now.”

“And Y/N is cool with that?” He raised his hand to pause the conversation, tilting his head to the side to hear the movie choice. “Soonyoung! We’re supposed to watch that together! I swear if you get ahead again, I will-” He glanced at his surroundings to finish his threat. “Shove the broomstick I have in my hands so far down your throat, you’ll have the taste of wood in your mouth for the rest of the year!” He could hear the boy in question fumbling for something and laughed. “You were saying?”

“Uhh, well...I called Y/N not too long ago, and I left a voicemail.”

“Classy move Jihoon.” With a shake of his head, Minghao stole Junhui’s shot and drank it. “Eww, you put too much salt in this. No wonder you’re not in charge of drinks.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“I’m a master chef, not a mixologist O’ Pompous Ones.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” A pat to Junhui’s shoulder. “Are you coming hyung, or are you planning to get shitfaced with this dumbass tonight?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Let’s go Jun.”

“Wait, don’t rush me. I’m not done yet.”

”Food’s here,” Jeonghan called happily through the front door and within three seconds, all 11 boys crowded around the living room, fighting for a slice and the first sip of the ice cold soda.

Jihoon smiled a little as he was squashed in the middle of the couch between Joshua and Chan. Everything he did was for them, and he hoped they knew the endless possibilities and roads that would open with You Made My Dawn.

*

“God, I already said I was sorry!” Jihoon yelled at the van, carrying his group mates, a near impossible feat that rarely happened. He slammed the door as hard as he could, his fists clenched, ready to hit the first person to piss him off further.

“You can’t fix everything with sorry!” Seokmin yelled at him. “God, I never thought I’d be glad to get rid of you.”

“Don’t come over anymore,” Wonwoo added stoically. “We’ll see you at the studio tomorrow…maybe.”

“Fine! Be there at nine sharp to film the music video! If any of you are even a minute late, I’m destroying the album and everything we worked on!”

“Oh so now you’re threatening us?” Jihoon could see Seungcheol beginning to unbuckle his seatbelt when Jeonghan stopped him and acknowledged the producer himself.

“Go fuck yourself. We’ll call you and let you know when we’ll be there. In the meantime, get your head out of your ass and remember that we’re not your circus performers and we will call out your shit. Vernon could’ve really hurt himself.” He rolled his window up and the van sped away.

“You’re all fired.” He fumbled around for his keys, muttering to himself. “After all I do for them, the least they could do is appreciate-Y/N, I’m here!” He expected you to run into his arms, and ask him how the trip was so he could vent out the frustrations, but when he saw you sitting on one side of the table, more focused on the teacup in front of you, he became anxious. Every time he’d seen you like that, no good news ever followed, but he tried to downplay it. He kissed your cheek, and headed for the kitchen, fixing himself a quick snack, deciding a peanut butter sandwich would be good.

He heard you take a deep breath and exhale. He counted 15 when you broke you broke the silence. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The knife clattered noisily on the counter. “Did I track mud in the house again? I’m sorry, I’ll get someone to come by and-”

“No. This. Us.” He could feel you staring at him, but he couldn’t face you. Not when he was hearing...this. “I’m tired Jihoon. It’s like I’m not even here unless it’s to your disposal.”

“That’s not true.”

“I don’t wanna argue with you because I love you, but just think about all the plans we made and how many you actually followed through. I get your work and Seventeen are important to you, but am I?”

“Yes!” He protested. He finally turned around, ready to bust your lie, but stopped short at seeing your wiping your eyes to hide the fact you were crying. “You mean so much to me.”

“No I don’t. I’m just someone who greets you when you come through that door and who tells you to have a good day when you walk out of it. I can’t keep living like this.”

“We can work something out can’t we?”

You shook your head. “I think that’s something only you and your schedule can answer. In the meantime, I’m gonna be staying with one of my friends.”

“No, you can’t do that.”

“It’s already done. I’m sorry. I hope this won’t affect your comeback. You’ve worked too hard for it to fall to shambles now. I’ll start packing what I can.”

The, “Don’t go; please come back,” choked him and he could feel the his world crumbling around him.

*

“I’m never gonna get this done,” Jihoon groaned. He ran his hand down his face, exaggerating the movement between his eyes.

“Get what done?” You appeared behind him, making jump in his seat.

“I-yah! Hey don’t do that.” He checked his heartbeat to make sure he didn’t go into cardiac arrest. “What are you doing here?”

“Soonyoung said you were working late and that you might’ve wanted some company. So here I am. Only if I’m not a bother.” You fixed his messy hair.

He reached for you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You? Never. I hope you don’t mind waiting awhile to do something, if we even get the chance that is.”

“The exciting life and times of Lee Jihoon as a producer means being here to see his latest masterpiece.” You searched for a chair and pulled it up next to him. “Now, what are we doing?”

“Finishing line distributions. The performance unit just finished their demos for ‘Don’t Wanna Cry’ and now I’m gonna see how we can make a hit.”

You nodded. “What do you have so far?”

“Only the start of the second verse. If you listen carefully, the contrasts between Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s voices are not only necessary, but they give it...that feel, so when you transition Seungcheol’s low voice to Jeonghan’s softer tone, the smoothness is still there, but so is the rawness and confusion. Add in the fact that Soonyoung wanted them to lead in the second verse of the choreography, and you’re left with a heartbreak even the cinematics cannot create, and I’m talking a lot so I’ll shut up so I can finish. We’re gonna be here awhile.”

You held up a book. “I’m always prepared.”

He worked in silence for a couple of hours, mostly pausing to refill his coffee cup, though it didn’t do much except make him resent the coffee flavor. He asked you every so often if you were bored or tired, you could just go home and he’d call you in the morning, only for you to reassure him that you weren’t in any rush to go anywhere, which made him forget he had a deadline to beat. You continued to read in peace, only breaking your concentration whenever you heard him sigh in frustration, placing your hand over his to calm him down.

“This is never gonna work.” He removed his headphones and began looking for his eye drops to stop the burning of straining them too long. “Maybe if I quit now, I can still get by with mediocre work. And by a fun game of eenie meenie miney mo, I can decide who gets to open the song.”

“Can I hear what you have? Maybe you could use some outside perspective.” He handed you the headphones and played the rough version, deciphering your reactions from the way you tapped along. You surprised him when you started crying, the lyrics burning themselves into heart even though you hadn’t lost anyone. “Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“No, it’s just the right amount of sadness and regret and god Jihoon, who hurt Seungcheol? Why the pressure of everything? It’ll all come together...what? Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Because...I don’t want you to think I’m a failure.”

“Ji, look at everything you’re doing; look at the time; look where you’re at right now. You’re busting your ass off to make it the best you’ve ever done. I know you well enough. Or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

“We got an invite to perform at KCON in America, so if it’s a hit, I want this to be the track we’re known for.”

“When was the last time Hansol started a song?”

“Not since he and Seokmin decided to shove straws up my nose when I was asleep, and I swore he never would again.” He squinted at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“His voice is soft enough to sing it because you don’t expect this to come from him. It’s like he’s mourning a lost love. If you hear him say ‘I love you’, it’s like he’s regretting something even though it isn’t his fault. It’s so melancholy, very different than Soonyoung who sounds hopeful, if you were to put them together that is.”

“You are brilliant! Maybe you should become my right hand producer.”

“Pass. I’m here for moral support.”

Half an hour after working out the kinks and smoothing out the rough timbres, he showed you the final effect of the song as well as the finished Al1 tracks. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be endeared when he saw you crying over Habit’s lyrics and threw his arm over you where you sobbed into his shoulder. “What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know. You’re just really good at this and the unnecessary pressure you put on yourself sucks, and also it’s really late so I’m very sensitive at this hour and I don’t know, having you around in my life has become a habit, so if I lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

In that moment, he shed a few tears because of your raw honesty affected him. He only showed you his vulnerable side, full of doubts and insecurities and the fact that you knew what to say and when to say it made him emotional, so he hugged you close and your hair, the impulse decision slipping his tongue before he could think about it. “Jagiya, if I moved out of Seventeen’s house, would you move in with me?”

*

He felt like a complete jackass. A few days had passed since his incidents and there seemed to be no sign of reconciliations anywhere, and he knew he was to blame. He pushed you away and expected too much from his best friends. No one called; no one checked in; no one asked what was gonna happen and he didn’t think he had an answer for that anyways. He fucked up and now the consequences weighed heavily upon him. He’d never been one for apologies, always felt like a guilt trip to him, but now he was alone in his studio for the nth time and no one would come running in to see why he was there and not where he belonged. He didn’t like people asking about his relationships, always seemed to invasive and an excuse for gossip over coffee with Dispatch paparazzi, but now what he wouldn’t give for direction. He did know a person, but they weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, but he had to at least try.

“What hyung?”

“Seungkwan, can you-” He sniffled inadvertently, immediately alerting the other boy on the line. “Can you please come to the studio?”

*

The moment Seungkwan found him in the recording booth, Jihoon spluttered apology after apology and spilled the heartbreak he was experiencing, trying to regain control of his emotions, stumbling a few times in the process but finally managing it. “I don’t know what to do. I lost the one person who understood me and I can’t take you guys being upset with me, but I deserve it. I treated everyone like shit. Can you forgive me?”

Seungkwan’s golden heart very rarely let him hold a grudge, so when he nodded, Jihoon sighed with relief and enveloped him in a hug. “You know you can always come to us, right? Why didn’t you?”

“I had one of those times where I felt like your careers rested in my hands and the pressure got to me.” He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. He didn’t like displaying anything for anyone to see, but he had to do it once more. “I need your help with something else, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.” His watch beeped. “I do have to go soon though. We-I, there’s this thing with my aein.”

“That...how do you do that? How do you balance your time like that?”

“It’s simple. It’s all about priorities and where the line comes in. It’s communication and effort. It’s about little things like notes and compliments and random calls throughout the day, or even just a text. When was the last time you sent a text?” Silence. “Flowers? Lunch? A note?” Nothing. “When was the last time you got any of that?” When he shamefully opened a drawer that revealed notes, letters, and snacks that no one knew existed, Seungkwan clicked his tongue. “Hyung, forgive me for saying this, but you’re a fucking idiot. Do you even know how lucky you are...or were?”

“Don’t rub it in. How do I fix it?”

“That’s up to you to decide. Just ask yourself: what is Y/N to you?” His phone rang and he was quick to answer it. “Hi aein. I just stopped by the studio really quickly. Woozi needed me. I’ll be there soon...I love you.” When he hung up, he flashed the older boy a smile. “Good luck hyung. I really hope you can get out of this mess. You and Y/N look really happy together.” Another beep. “I really should get home. ‘Bye!”

For the first time since he felt like his life had fallen apart, his lips quirked up. “Home, huh?” He said to no one after Seungkwan showed himself out. He reached into his drawer, pulling out your letters to him throughout your time together.

*

“Gentlemen, I called you here for two reasons.” Jihoon took a deep breath, ready to swallow his pride. The meeting room seemed too warm for his liking, fanning himself lightly. Twelve pairs of eyes focused on him, some curious, some annoyed. “First, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for acting the way I did. I shouldn’t have changed the choreography during our practice. Vernon I’m sorry I pressured you to that extreme. Soonyoung, I’m sorry for exceeding your capabilities for everything. Seungcheol, I’m sorry I questioned your leadership abilities.” He rubbed his eyes. “I ah, put my relationship to the side to perfect this, but as it turns out, I fucked up both things, and badly.” He expected the jaw dropping effect, but he didn’t expect them to look at each other and hear nothing but air escape their mouths. “In case Seungkwan didn’t tell you, Y/N left.” Soonyoung immediately jumped from his spot and ran to him. He didn’t say anything, but his presence brought an odd sense of comfort to Jihoon as he laid his head on shoulder.

“I don’t expect you guys to help me, but I’m asking you if you’re willing enough to forgive me to do it. Bumzu hyung helped me with this. It’s a song and if you’d like the lyrics, I have them right here.”

The boys looked at one another and nodded. Hansol stood up and held his hand out. “We have some work to do.”

*

He didn’t know how many days had passed, but he found you at a friend’s house. He knew you weren’t expecting him, what with the way you answered the door in PJs and a book in your hand. He stopped you from closing the door. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I know I have to try. I can’t bear you walking away. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “Jihoon, no. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just show up and expect me to come back. I- your job, the boys, obviously mean more to you. I’m sorry. Just go home.”

He grabbed your wrist. “Can I just show you something before you kick me out for good?”

Relenting, you agreed and he pulled you out and into the car, driven by Mingyu, who smiled at you, but otherwise stayed quiet, in fear of giving away what he had planned. “Where are we going?”

“Pledis. I have something for you there.”

“Jihoon, if I wanted a signed lenticular or something, I would’ve asked the boys for it.”

“It’s more personal than that. Can you just trust me?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

At that comment, his courage deflated. He earned that, but it was still a blow. For the remainder of the ride, he stayed quiet, second guessing whether this was the right thing to do. He almost told Mingyu to turn around and drop you back off at your friend’s house. Almost. Even when Mingyu parked with an, “I’ll see you inside,”, he thought about it, but you already here and outside waiting for him. He finally slid out, and led you inside.

You waved at the staff, trainees, veteran artists and everyone you recognized. You followed him into the recording room where you saw Beomju on one side and 12 boys crowded over a single microphone in another. Beomju instructed you to sit next him, and shooed Jihoon into the other. “What’s-”

“Shh, just put these on, and listen.” He pressed a button to address Seventeen. “Are you guys ready?” They nodded eagerly. “You know your cues...okay. Ready? Jun, quiet down. On my mark…” Using his fingers, he counted down, tilted his pointer, and the music began.

Upon hearing Jeonghan’s voice, you shook your head. Jihoon really knew how to play dirty, and the lyrics didn’t help. As the song progressed, your gaze flickered between them all, torn between keeping your composure because of they said, and wanting to yell at Jihoon because of how needy it made you sound. ‘Cause I’m your home? Really, was that necessary? You commended them nonetheless, once again proving Seventeen had an unrivaled soft tone to them.

“Get ready,” Beomju murmured after Mingyu’s part so softly you almost missed it.

“‘Cause I’m your home, home, home, home,” Seungkwan sang.

“‘Cause I’m your home, home, home, home,” Chan echoed and expectantly stared at Jihoon so you knew this would be good.

“Because you’re my home, home, home, ho-home,” Jihoon hiccupped, keeping his eyes on you.

And that did it. You couldn’t even look at Joshua as he finished the song because you had fallen apart. You missed everyone high fiving each other, but you heard the way they ran out of of the tiny room and whooping. Only Jihoon stayed inside the booth, placing his headphones on the microphone, making no effort to leave.

It surprised you when Minghao nudged you. “Y/N, don’t be so hard on him. He loves you a lot more than you think. He just wants what’s best for everyone.”

“We might’ve not known everything about your relationship, but we know how happy you’ve made each other,” Junhui added. “Maybe we’re overstepping our boundaries by asking you reconsider your decision, but by the looks of it, you don’t look so well either.”

Wonwoo smacked his head. “You’re not supposed to say it like that. But yeah, please talk to him at least. None of us know how long he’s been staying here since he won’t tell us, but I think this is all he’s been working on.”

Joshua gave you a tissue so you could clean your face. “We’ll support your decisions, no matter what.”

You mustered up all your courage, swallowing heavily as you stood in front of the door. You finally opened it, tentatively walking inside and letting it close behind you, the slam ricocheting in all directions, until you were close to him. You took a deep breath, anticipating the next moment. He looked you, and slowly opened his arms, which you walked into and you let him hold you. You could feel him shuddering, hear him sniffling which made you tighten your hold on him in an attempt to protect from everything that was hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” he said after awhile. “I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I guess I’m just so used to having you around, I didn’t think I’d ever push you to your limit. I’ll try to do better, I promise.” He paused. “I don’t want to do any of this without you. Please...come home.”

You pulled away from him, opting to comfort him the way he had you in the past, even though you knew that you be bawling your eyes out in seconds. You wiped his tears away, your own threatening to bubble over soon.

“Does that mean you can tell Y/N the good news?!”

“Yah, you blabbermouth! Get out of here!” Jihoon threw the microphone at Soonyoung who tried to catch it, but ended up smashing his fingers.

“What good news?” You were actually thankful that Soonyoung had broken the serious moment so you could stop yourself from crying.

“Ahh, well, the boys loved this song so much they wanna add it to the album, and actually wanna use it for the official comeback.”

“You-that’s awesome! Maybe I should break your heart more often.”

He kissed your temple. “Yeah, how about we don’t. Come on; let’s go home.”

“I’m already here.”

[saccharii]

How to Win Back Your (Villain) Ex Boyfriend

A guide by Hawks

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Summary:  Arresting Dabi and putting him in prison has put quite a big of strain on his and Hawks’ relationship, but Hawks is determined to work through it.

AO3 Link

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“Hey,” Hawks says and sits down at the table that Dabi — no, not Dabi; his real name is Touya, Todoroki Touya, and hadn’t that been a ride? — is handcuffed to. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

Dabi (Touya?) glares at him flatly, his head propped up on his hand. His orange prison jumpsuit clashes with his purple scars and now red hair. His hollow cheeks and pale skin serve to make him look more sickly than usual.

That’s fair. Hawks probably wouldn’t be very friendly towards the guy that arrested him either.

“So... what have you been up to?”

Dabi’s expression doesn’t change. Hawks winces. God, why is he so awkward? What has he been up to? Prison. Prison is what he’s been up to.

In front of a camera Hawks is as smooth as silk, but sit him down across from his (ex?) boyfriend that he’d arrested and all of a sudden everything that comes out of his mouth is pure idiocy.

“I’ve been good. Doing hero stuff,” he forges on, bravely or stupidly, he doesn’t know. “Arresting bad guys, posing for pictures, the usual.”

Dabi’s glare sharpens.

“I’ll cut to the chase. Are we still dating?”

“No.”

“Cool, cool. Totally understandable. Do you want to get back together?”

“No.”

Hawks clasps his hands in front of his face and braces his elbows on the table, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

“C’mon, please?”

“No.”

“How about friends with benefits? They have conjugal visits at this prison. I checked.”

He wants more than friends with benefits, but it’s a start. He can work from there. That’s how it happened the first time, after all.

Ex boyfriends to friends with benefits, back to boyfriends, then in a few years when Dabi’s out on parole: Boom. Marriage. Maybe they can buy a house with an actual, walled off yard. It’ll be expensive as hell in this area, but between Hawks’ salary and Dabi’s trust fund they can pull it off. Married with a dog, not a cat. Cats always try to attack Hawks’ wings.

His plan is foolproof. This sort of thing happens all the time; he’s seen it on those rom-coms that Rumi hates but agrees to watch with him anyway because he’s her only friend.

Dabi’s mouth drops open slightly, and he furrows his eyebrows. “Hawks, what the fuck.”

“That’s the idea. Us the fuck.”

Haha. Why did he say that? ‘Us the fuck’? That doesn’t even make sense.

“Do you proposition every villain you arrest?”

“Only the hot ones — both literally and figuratively.” Hawks winks and shoots finger guns.

Finger guns. Why. Why did he do that? Holy fuck, he has to get out of here before he humiliates himself further. Lesson learned. Next time he’ll practice what he’s going to say in front of the mirror.

Dabi says nothing, presumably stunned into silence by Hawks’ finger guns. (Why finger guns? Why is he like this?)

“Anyway,” Hawks says quickly. “I gotta get going. Want me to bring some of that strawberry shortcake you like so much next time?”

Dabi mouths the words ‘next time’ with an incredulous look on his face.

“What the fuck, Hawks? You fucking tricked me and arrested me. Now you’re here asking me out and offering me cake? Why do you think I even want you here?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Hawks raps his knuckles on the table and stands up. “I’ll bring some cards next time, too.”

He signals the guard who escorts him stiffly from the room. As they pass through the heavily armored door he gives Hawks some serious side-eye before he realizes Hawks saw him and looks away.

Oh yeah. He just witnessed the whole ‘begging his felon ex boyfriend to take him back’ debacle. Complete with finger guns. (That’s something that’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life, isn’t it? He’ll be eighty and lying in bed and it’ll pop into his head. He won’t be able to remember what day it is but he’ll remember the goddamn finger gun incident from when he was twenty three.)

“So, uh, I don’t suppose I could pay you not to ever tell anyone about that?”

“We are bound with a strict confidentiality clause,” the guard says, staring straight ahead, determinedly looking anywhere but at Hawks. “Nothing you do or say here will be released to the public.”

Hawks nods. “Gotcha.”

Confidentiality clauses don’t do much from Hawks’ experience. Sure, the guard won’t run to the presses or blab on his blog, but once he gets home there is no doubt that he’ll immediately tell his spouse or call up his best friend or someone, and who knows who’ll find out after that. Before you know it one of Hawks’ sidekicks will pull him aside and ask him if it’s true that he shot finger guns.

Hawks claps his hand on the guard’s shoulder. “Good to know.” He looks at the guard’s name tag. “Officer Naya. I’m trusting you.”

Lay the guilt on thick enough and maybe he won’t tell anyone.

“Right, right,” Hawks mutters. He grips the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white. “I can do this.”

Dried toothpaste flakes under his hands. The sink hasn’t been cleaned since Dabi last scrubbed it months ago, before Hawks arrested him. Hawks’ lackadaisical attitude towards wiping down counters drove Dabi nuts. Who knew someone who looks so much like an unwashed hobo would be such a clean freak?

Yet every night Dabi would put on thick rubber gloves, wipe down the bathroom, wash the dishes, clean the kitchen, pick up the living room and bedroom, and vacuum the carpets, complaining the whole time.

Hawks was shocked by how domestic Dabi is, nothing like the twenty something disaster he expected him to be. (Well, he was a twenty something human disaster, just not when it came to chores.) Hell, Dabi had even packed Hawks’ (very delicious) lunch everyday. Damn, he misses that. KFC has nothing on Dabi’s homemade chicken karaage.

It probably has something to do with his scars. Dirty sheets and open wounds do not go well together. Every day Dabi disinfected the entire apartment, and every night he doused himself with antiseptic and bandaged along his seams with sterile gauze. Hawks hopes they’re taking good care of his scars in prison.

He takes a deep breath, holds it for four seconds, then breathes out to quell the anxiety twisting in his gut. It doesn’t work. He’s such a disaster without Dabi here. He was a disaster with Dabi here too, but he was a disaster with a clean apartment and home cooked food.

He slicks his hair back with water. He can do this. Hero monthly voted him the hottest single hero in the country; he can seduce his ex boyfriend back.

(Dabi had grinned and waved the magazine in his face, then proceeded to prove just how single Hawks wasn’t.)

He can do this. He runs his fingers through his hair one more time. “Hey,” he says to the mirror in his most seductive voice.

He can’t do this.

“Goddamnit, why am I so bad at this?”

He slaps his cheeks and stares at himself in the mirror.

“Let’s try this again.” He smiles his best TV smile. “Hey Dabi,” he says. “I just want to talk more about what we discussed last week. You know, things didn’t end well between us. Honestly they ended terribly, so, uh, I want to fix that. I think we had something good going on, before I arrested you and you set yourself on fire trying to get away.”

Shit. This isn’t Hawks. He isn’t the planning type. He’s more of the ‘winging it’ type. (Heh. Winging it. That’s a good one.) Alright. One more time.

“Hey! I’m back. I, um, brought you flowers.” Hawks grabs a toothbrush from the holder and mimes giving it to the mirror. “I don’t know if you like flowers, since I’ve never given you flowers. I’ve never given anyone flowers.

“I know that things ended badly between us, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. So I was thinking, maybe, we could try again? God this is so stupid it’s never going to work.”

Hawks rubs his face, almost accidentally stabbing himself in the eye with the toothbrush. Okay, maybe he should start small. He said he was going to bring cake next time, so he’ll start with that.

“I brought that cake you like so much, just like I promised.”

Hawks groans. He has no idea what to say. Looks like he’ll be an awkward mess, but  he’ll be an awkward mess with flowers and cake.

At least his makeup is on point. You can’t even tell he has bags under his eyes and a stress pimple coming in. His eyeliner is amazing. Wings sharp enough to kill a man. He looks good.

He checks his phone. He’s got an hour until he needs to be at the prison. That’s just enough time to run to the bakery and the florist. He takes a deep, fortifying breath.

He can do this.

He lied. He can’t do this

The flower shop is so small that every time Hawks turns around he nearly knocks everything off the shelf, and that’s with his wings tucked close. The overwhelming fragrance makes his head spin.

He doesn’t know anything about flowers. Apparently some have certain meanings and others have different meanings and if you choose the wrong ones you accidentally end up saying ‘I wish you were dead’ instead of ‘I like you.’

“Can I help you, sir?”

Hawks starts and spins, knocking vases off the shelves. Only two feathers and quick reflexes prevent disaster. How did some florist sneak up on him? He’s the number two hero, for god’s sake.

“Yes, thank you,” he says with practiced, disarming charm. “I don’t know anything about flowers. Maybe you could recommend something?”

“Of course.” The florist’s voice wobbles. Ah, she recognizes him. “What do you need them for?”

He scratches his chin.

“Hypothetically, if you were a spy,” he says slowly, “and you fell in love with your mark, then arrested him, what kind of flowers would you give him to apologize and ask him back out?”

“Oh,” the girl says, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a perfect ‘o’. “Um. I... I’ve never encountered that, uh, exact situation before. Maybe some sort of apology bouquet? Or something to indicate, that, uh, you’ll wait for him? To get out of jail?”

“I like that second one. I kinda had to arrest him, and I’m sorry, but not really sorry, You know?”

She nods, her eyes wide and glazed. “I understand completely.”

What a trooper. Hawks is pretty sure she doesn’t understand, but he appreciates her putting up with him anyway. It’s not everyday the number two strolls into your shop and makes such a bizarre request.

This is going to be all over the tabloids tomorrow, if not tonight, isn’t it? His PR team is going to kill him. Oh well, it’s bound to get out eventually. No way is he going to be able to marry a convicted felon without someone cottoning on.

After a half hour of back and forth over the pros and cons of what various flowers mean and how they would look together in a bouquet, they finally decide on a bouquet of forget-me-not (for true love), white anemones (for sincerity), and camellias (for waiting) tied together with a blue ribbon the color of Dabi’s eyes. It looks kinda like a bridal bouquet. Hopefully it isn’t coming on too strong. He doesn’t want to seem as desperate as he actually is.

“These flowers look nice,” Hawks says idly as the florist lady (Okumura, he found out. Her quirk is making no noise when she moves which is how she snuck up on him. Thank god he isn’t losing his edge.) rings him up. “Maybe I’ll get some of them next time.”

Okumura glances at the flowers in the vase next to the register. “Those are yellow tulips. They mean ‘unrequited love’ in hanakotoba.”

“Ah, I don’t want those flowers.”

“No, probably not.” She hands him the bouquet. “Three thousand yen, please.”

Hawks pays and bids Okumura goodbye. What a nice lady. She did a great job taking his ridiculous request seriously. If it was him, he would have laughed in his face.

He checks his phone and grimaces. He has less than thirty minutes to drop by the bakery and get to the prison in time for visitation. Hopefully there won’t be a line.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s late. How did this happen? He’s supposed to be the hero that moves too fast.

Hawks hops from foot to foot as the guard, a small woman with a spider web of glowing blue lines around the corner of her eyes, undoes the complicated locks on the heavy, metal prison door. He hates being late. It makes his skin itch.

He fidgets, trying not to drop the pastry box in one hand or the somewhat squashed bouquet in the other. He’s on friendly terms with the baker from his favorite bakery, and the man keeps special reinforced boxes made to withstand flight on hand, but Hawks hadn’t thought of how he would carry the flowers, so he had to stuff them down his jacket.

The prison guard yanks the thick door open with ease, and Hawks nods at her in thanks and enters. (How did she manage that? She’s so petite.)

Dabi is once more handcuffed to the table, reclining in his chair, head back and eyes closed.

“So,” he says, and opens his eyes, piercing Hawks with an intense stare. “You came back.”

Hawks shivers. That look never fails to get him. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Did you shave? You look like a twelve year old.”

Good to see that prison didn’t break Dabi’s lovely personality.

“I think it looks nice,” Hawks mumbles. “I brought you something.”

Hawks holds the flowers out to Dabi. He looks at them dispassionately and makes no move to take them. Hawks places the slightly squashed bouquet down carefully in front of him. Dabi looks him straight in the eyes and pushes them off the table with the back of his hand.

Yep. Same old Dabi.

“I have allergies,” he says.

“Noted. Good thing I have backup.” He puts the pastry box on the table in between them with a flourish. He picks at the thick tape, cursing. Goddamnit, why do these things have to be so difficult to open? There’s cake inside, not government secrets. Hawks sharpens one of his feathers and slices through the tape. Dabi huffs out a quiet, amused breath, and Hawks’ cheeks pinken.

He gingerly lifts the slice of cake out of the box. “Tada! I got strawberry shortcake for you and chocolate cannolis for me. And-” He pulls a thermos out of his coat. “-I remember how you feel about cake without milk.”

Dabi resists for all of two seconds before he takes the cake. Hawks tosses him a plastic fork before he can start shoveling it in his mouth with his hands like the heathen he is. Dabi doesn’t thank him, but he’s never thanked anyone for anything before, as far as Hawks is aware, so it’s not like he was expecting it.

“Here. Check this out.” Hawks unscrews the thermos and places the lid on the table. “The top doubles as a cup. Neat, huh?”

Dabi takes the thermos and drinks directly out of the container. Alongside the whole Dabi-is-a-Todoroki-holy-shit revelation was the realization that Dabi came from money and probably had a rich kid’s upbringing. Which means that Dabi knows how to use his manners, he just chooses not to. It’s such a Dabi thing that it makes Hawks smile.

Hawks snags one of the chocolate cannolis. He got two because he knows Dabi will steal one. He takes a bite and sighs with pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed. The crisp shell contrasts perfectly with the creamy filling. Watanuki’s pastries really are the best. (And the most expensive.)

He misses this. He misses eating in silence across from Dabi. He misses the comfortable stillness that comes with familiarity. He misses Dabi.

He slowly opens his eyes and his gaze meets Dabi’s. For a moment he sees his own emotions reflected in those eyes before the walls slam down again.

Dabi snorts and wipes his hands on his prison jumpsuit. “Nice try, birdy, but it’s not gonna work.”

“I brought cards, too.” Hawks slips the deck out of his pocket and takes the cards out of the box. “I thought you could use some entertainment.”

“The cake was a better bribe.”

Hawks shuffles the cards with a perfect riffle and bridge. Dabi can’t do it. Every time he tries he sends the cards flying. It drives him crazy. He pretends it doesn’t bother him, but Hawks knows.

“Do you know how to play bullshit?”

“No.”

“Damn. Neither do I. I saw some people on TV playing it and it looked fun. How about egyptian rat screw?”

“That’s a three player game.”

“Is it? Maybe guard lady can join us.” Hawks turns in his seat to face the guard. Huh. The glowing spiderwebs around her eyes are gone. “Hey guard lady, you wanna play egyptian rat screw?”

Guard lady regards him solemnly then shakes her head.

Dabi snorts. “You’re not going to get anything out of her. She’s got a giant stick up her ass. All about ‘professionalism’ and ‘protocol.’ At least the other guards will talk to you or crack a joke.”

“Fine, fine. Poker, then?”

They play the world’s most boring game of poker. With only two people and no stakes, there’s no risk or room for scheming. When Hawks suggests strip poker, guard lady finally says something for the first time — a sharp ‘no’.

The hour passes too quickly. Dabi’s parting “Fuck off and die” is less venomous than last time, but he’s still shut off. More so than before.

Hawks is going to need some outside advice.

[aweebwrites]

Seven Deadly Sins 2

Warning: Lots of swearing and suggestive themes.

____________

(Y'all. I just wanna thank the heck out of @thelucariosfish for beta-ing this! They're the best!)

___________________

“I know what you two are.” The man says, trailing after Lloyd and Jay.

“Oh?” Lloyd says, voice sounding disinterested.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got any money? We can strike a deal~” Jay hummed, looking the man over for any more cash since he already stole his wallet.

“Jay, you know we don’t do deals.” Lloyd says irritiby, just wanting to murder his target and go home.

“You don’t but I do.” Jay grinned at him then back at the man. “So? Cash? I accept gold and gems too. Anything of value really.” He says, walking in front of the man backwards, peering into his shirt pocket.

“But what if what I need is more money?” The man questioned and Jay tapped his chin, walking backwards still.

“Nah.” Jay sighed then turned around, walking next to Lloyd dejectedly. “I was hoping for some more cash, you know? What's the point in helping you get cash when I need it myself.” He huffed.

“You really don't.” Lloyd ssys drily, glancing across at him.

“Want, need. Potato, potato.” Jay says, waving it off.

“You're not supposed to refuse me!” The man sputtered and both Lloyd and Jay glanced back to see the man following them still.

“You're still here? You better scram while you can. You have nothing worth doing and nothing to offer.” Jay says dismissively and the man blinked at him as he stopped.

He gritted his teeth.

“Either you make me a millionaire or I tell everyone your little secret.” He threatened and Jay stopped in his tracks.

“Oh?” He says, looking over his shoulder at the mortal with glowing blue eyes, a wide grin on his face that revealed glistening fangs. “You sir, are a very brave mortal.” He says, walking up to the confident man who reeked of fear and anxiety.

“I like that.” Jay says, crossing his arms as he stopped in front of the man who looked relieved. “But not enough to let you live.” He whispered and the man's eyes widened.

He looked down, seeing Jay's hand through his chest. He pulled his hand back then licked a drop of blood away from his claws as the man watched breathlessly. He then collapsed and Jay walked off, towards Lloyd who was waiting on him while people screamed and ran.

“You know, these Touched Ones are getting on my nerves.” Jay says, wiping his hand with the handkerchief in the man's wallet as they continued walking. “Lordie should really keep his warriors out of our business.” He huffed, tossing the kerchief aside.

“Fucker should stay dead. He's been sending his soldiers to patrol Ninjago City more often. We'll have to let Wu know what's going on. We might have to lessen our time hunting here or else he'll send his Generals and we'll be in some deep shit.” Lloyd says, still pondering a target.

“We can take them.” Jay huffed.

“Yes. Together. But if they catch just one or even two of us, we won't stand much of a choice. The Warriors are indestructible and the Droids are unkillable. While killing us will only send us back to the Underworld, dying doesn't hurt any less. Not to mention you guys can't simply pop out whenever you want. It could take as short as a week for my dad to prep the spell to get you guys back in the mortal realm. And let's not forget about the time it'll take to heal from their purifying weapons.” Lloyd reminded him and Jay grumbled.

“I heard purifying. Tell me you guys didn't run into any Warriors or Droids…” Nya says from the comms.

“No. None whatsoever. Just a Touched One.” Jay reported, snagging a hundred dollar bill hanging out of a woman's purse in passing. “Honestly. If they keep blessing people with the ability to see us as we truly are, we won't be able to have as much fun anymore.” He complained, holding the bill up to check if it's real before pocketing it.

“I could still get by, even if they do know what I really look like.” Nya huffed and Lloyd rolled his eyes then glanced up at the buildings as he walked, sharp vision able to see people moving around inside.

They're all damned lucky that have such great apartments and buildings to work in. He heard the engines of a car rev and glanced back to see the sleek car driving up from a few blocks down. Sunglasses, expensive watch, cocky grin, pretty woman in the passenger seat. Bingo.

“Finally found someone, huh?” Jay says with a smirk, seeing the sneer on Lloyd's face.

One he usually wore after finding someone particularly lucky.

“Careful. Jay just killed someone. I don't have any Warriors or Droids on radar in your vicinity but these morherfuckers have a way of appearing.” That was Morro.

“I know that. Keep your fangs in.” Lloyd huffed as he gathered his green energy in hand, fueling it with his jealousy.

While he knew how to drive, he certainly didn't have a car, worse one as fancy or fast as that one is. He could see it all. This little fucker had a penthouse suite all to himself. Lloyd didn't even have a room for himself! Why the hell must they have all the good things while he was fucking stuck where he was? Dad said it was good for him and his powers, for him to live in an abandoned stupid fucking ship with his uncle, cousin and 5 others. Three of whom are almost always fucking. He can't catch a fucking break and this piece of shit with his good looks and shitty personality got to have it all! Fuck him very much. He watched as the car drove up before launching his green energy at it, walking forward still. He didn't look back when the car suddenly exploded, flipping past them and slamming into a stoplight, breaking the car in two as it brought down the stoplight.

“Wow. That guy really pissed you off huh?” Jay says with a grin, knowing those two will be feeling that in the Underworld for possibly years to come.

“Fucker has everything and he's the biggest asshole I've ever come across.” Lloyd growled low and Jay perked up at that.

“Everything?” He says and Lloyd glanced at him warily. “Don't look at me like that! Think about it. He's dead now. It'll take a day or two for his things to be moved out to his family. Why not indulge? This is your chance to have a taste of what you really deserve...” Jay purred, tail flicking back and forth.

“... You just want his valuables.” Lloyd says flatly, even as he changed directions to where the hotel was.

“You know me so well.” Jay grinned.

“Hey, if you guys are going to crash an upscale place, I want in. Hotel food is fucking amazing.” Cole says from the comms.

“Fuck yeah. Give us an address. We'll meet you there.” Morro says and Jay grinned at Lloyd.

“Fine.”

________________

“Ho-ly shit.” Cole says as he looked around the huge penthouse suite.

Glass windows all around, white themed furniture, crystal chandelier, open concept everything… This place was obviously for the elite.

“Found the kitchen Cole!” Nya yelled out and that was all Cole needed to hear, darting off.

“It's not bad…” Zane says, uninterested then yawned.

“I've been here before. I had a target here. But the place wasn't this grand.” Kai says as he looked around, a silk robe he picked up half off his shoulders. “Plus, he had a small dick anyway.” He added, stroking his hand over the white leather couch before looking to Zane with a mischievous smile.

“I do remember the bed though. Softest, most comfortable bed in all of Ninjago. I'll take you to it if you let me fuck you…” He purred as he sauntered over, his tail coiling around his limp one. “Pretty please? I'll make it worth your while…” He whispered as he nosed along his jaw, up to Zane's ear.

“Fine. Whatever.” Zane sighed and Kai's eyes lit up.

“Just hurry up and get the fuck out of here.” Morro says, irritated before using his power over wind to blow the windows all open. “Much better.” He says, flopping down next to Lloyd who picked up the remote on the coffee table.

“Let's see…” He says then pressed the button for tv.

“Woah.” Nya says from where she was leaning against the back of the couch, all three of them watching as a large panel opened up, revealing a 60” flat screen TV.

“... Fucking bastard.” Lloyd whispered, looking at it in awe.

“Please tell me that this guy has video games.” Morro says as he got up and walked over to the cabinet beneath the tv and opened it.

He grinned once he saw four controllers, a game station and several disks.

“Fuck the hell yes.”

_________

“Alright. Now that the visible valuables have been taken…” Jay says, glancing over at the sack full of electronics, paintings, vases and things he knew he could sell for a huge sum of money. “Time to find the safes.” He says, rubbing his hands together, generating electricity.

“Alright tail. Do your thing.” He says, glancing back at it before walking away.

His tail was like a metal detectors except it finds money. He discovered that his tail tends to move towards and linger in areas with a large amount of money just 10 years back. It was never wrong. He walked around the bedroom, ignoring Kai and Zane as they made a mess of themselves then out to the living room where Morro was snarling along with Lloyd as Nya beat them at whatever game they were playing. He refused to believe this asshole didn't have at least two safes here. He walked into the kitchen where Cole had the kitchen island full of empty wrappers and bottles, leaving no morsel of food behind. He was getting impatient when he felt his tail move on its own. He stopped and looked back. The… The fridge? Well. That's creative. He opened the empty fridge looking around. His tail slithered in, making him shiver once it pressed itself against the back of it.

“Fucking tails and sensitivity.” He mumbled then looked at his claws, willing one to become taller.

He then traced it along the back of the fridge then paused once he came across a hitch in the smooth plastic. He then pried it open and huffed at the high tech safe just behind.

“Well I'll be damned. This guy was paranoid as fuck.” He says then gathered his electricity and pressed his hand against the handprint slot, smirking once his electricity overrode it and opened the safe.

“Holy fucking shit!” Jay yelled in glee at what the safe held.

“What is it?” Cole asked as he walked over before guzzling a bottle of mustard.

“This guy was fucking loaded!” Jay says, taking out a bar of motherfucking gold from the safe.

One of six stacked neatly inside.

“Oh fuck yes.” Jay laughed as he grabbed them all then dropped them with a gasp at what lay behind. “Is that a fucking diamond?!” He yelled then snatched it.

He looked the palm sized gem over in the light then bit at an edge. Pain flared up once the tip of his fangs were broken.

“Oh yeah. This is the real deal.” Jay says, knowing his fangs will regenerate in a few minutes.

“Hey, who has any idea what this guy sounded like. I'm gonna order room service.” Cole says as he watched Jay slip the gold into a bag he pulled from virtually nowhere.

“Check his phone. It's in the sack over there. Put it back when you're done though.” Jay says, shooting Cole a glare and he walked away to where the sack was.

He spotted it on top then blew warm air over the screen, seeing his unlock pattern and unlocked the phone. He searched through then found a few voice messages. He listened to his voice keenly before dropping the phone in the bag and walking over to the phone on the wall.

“Hello, room service?” He spoke into the phone, mimicking the man's voice perfectly. “Yes, I'd like a continental dinner buffet delivered to my suite in 15 minutes… I don't fucking care about short notice. Either you get it here in 15 or I'll move elsewhere… Good.” He says then slammed the phone back in its holder.

“They better hurry up. I'm starved.” Cole says, stretching.

“You’re always starved.” Jay huffed as he stood, zipping the bag closed and keeping it very close to his person. “Someone should save Zane. Kai might ride him to death.” He commented before he went looking for more safes.

Cole considered it then shrugged. It would be something good to pass the time with… With that, he headed off to the bedroom. Morro on the other hand chucked his controller at the tv, cracking it.

“Fuck this! You cheated Nya!” He snarled at her.

“I don't need to cheat to beat you.” Nya huffed, tossing her controller on the coffee table.

“I literally saw you short circuit his controller with water.” Lloyd says, dropping his controller.

“I already said I don't need to cheat. Something is just wrong with your eyes.” She huffed and Lloyd rolled his eyes, knowing better than to try and get her to admit something.

“You fucking liar!” Morro yelled, wind angrily churning through the penthouse as he did.

“Hey! Watch it!” Jay yelled from on the ceiling, stuffing money into his bag, the wind making one or two bills blowing out of the safe.

“Cool it already. The TV's busted and I'm bored now. Let's just go home already.” Lloyd huffed with a glare, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Good luck getting Kai to stop fucking long enough to leave.” Nya says as Morro seethed still, already plotting revenge.

“He won't need to.” Jay says as he hopped down from the ceiling and grabbing the bills that fell. “Cole's taking over from Zane and he ordered room service. They should be here any minute now.” He says as he straightened.

Just then, there was a ding, signaling that the private elevator was in use.

“See?” Jay grinned.

“Cole! Food's here!” Nya yelled and there was silence for a few seconds before he was walking towards them, buttoning his pants with his shirt thrown over his shoulder.

He had a lot of hickies for such a short time…

“Come on. I was almost there…” Kai protested, following after him, wearing only the robe which meant…

“Fuck Kai. Don't walk out here with a boner. What the fuck.” Lloyd says with a grimace, looking away.

“Yeah, well-”

Kai was cut off when the elevator opened. Their eyes widened. In the elevator stood a tall figure with similar, smaller figures behind them. They all wore red and silver armor, the smaller ones wearing black capes while the leader wore a sliver one. Warriors.

“Room service.” Kozu- first fucking General- says with his holy swords gripped in all four hands.

“Run!” Jay yelled and they dashed, heading for the nearest window.

Cole barely dodged a hit from Kozu's sword and Morro turned around, using his wind to blow him back- or at least he tried. He was made differently from all the rest. He was heavier. Morro grunted as he was head-butted, the force sending him flying across the space and into one of few walls in the suite.

“Fucker!” He grunted as he pulled himself out of the concrete, blood running down his face.

“Come on Morro! We have to go!” Lloyd says, yanking him back.

“Not until I teach this asshole a lesson!” Morro growled, his skin blackening as his fangs lengthened, white markings appearing on his face.

“I run from no-one!” Nya growled, shrugging Cole off of her.

“God dammit I-”

“No wait!” Kai says, cutting Lloyd off. “Zane is still in the room. We can't leave him. You go get him and we'll hold them off as best as we can.” He told him seriously and Lloyd growled, hating that even with almost nothing but fucking on his mind, he can still be level headed enough to remember Zane and think of a plan.

“Fine. Alright. Don't do anything stupid.” Lloyd warned then took off.

“I've always wanted to kick a General's ass.” Nya says, cracking her fists as Kai passed on the plan to the others.

“We shall see that about that.” Kozu says then looked to his subordinates and nodded at them.

All six of them stepped back.

“Oh? Aren't you cocky. Think you can take all of us on by yourself?” Morro asked with a sneer.

“What's there to complain about? It'll be easier to take him down.” Cole says as he grinned, revealing thick fangs. “I for one am pretty pissed off about not getting my buffet!” He snarled, skin darkening before he roared as he charged at the General, Nya and Morro charging too.

Kozu smirked.

______

“Zane what the fuck?! We have to go!” Lloyd yelled as Zane laid there on the bed, partially naked with only the sheets covering his ass, drifting in and out of sleep.

“Blame Kai. He made me tired.” Zane mumbled, nuzzling into the pillows.

“Zane. There's a fucking General hunting us. Do you want to die?” Lloyd growled in irritation. “It took us a month to convince you to come back to the mortal realm. I'm not doing it again.” He warned and Zane only hummed.

Lloyd growled in irritation.

______

Nya grunted as she hit the ground hard, gripping her side.

“That all you got.” She panted as she forced herself to sit up, blood dripping from her side.

“How about some shock therapy!” Jay yelled as he threw an electrical punch at the General.

He grabbed him by the hand as he strangled Kai then threw them both down hard, knocking the wind out of them. They groaned then yelped as they rolled out of the way out of his blessed swords as they came down on them.

“I've had enough of you.” Morro sneered then jumped Kozu with a yell, spinning his way out of his swords’ reach.

He then shoved his clawed fingers into his eyes but his claws only broke on impact. That didn't stop him from clawing at his face and helmet, snarling like a rabid animal.

“Filthy demon!” Kozu growled then grabbed him by the back of his neck and pried him off his face.

He grabbed him by the hair with one hand, holding his hands behind his back with another and held a blessed blade to his neck.

“Any last words?” Kozu says as his warriors stepped forward once the others moved to attack.

“I have a few.” All of their attention turned to Lloyd and Zane who was standing still behind him, eyes an eerie gold, just like Lloyd's overcasted ones.

Lloyd casted those eyes onto the others and their eyes also became gold with his control.

“Demonic influence.” Kozu growled behind his mouthpiece.

“Kai. Nya.” Lloyd says and they used their powers together, creating a huge cloud of steam, filling the room.

Kozu quickly drew his sword but cut thin air. There was the sound of multiple flapping before he rushed forward to the nearest window, hopping out and allowing his cape to morph into large, white stone wings. He looked around but the demons were nowhere in sight. He couldn't sense them anywhere.

“Mark my words, Nobles of the Underworld. I will keep Ninjago City free from your evil.” He growled lowly.

_______________

“We could have handled it.” Nya says then winced as Kai took care of the wound on her side that wouldn't be healing anytime soon.

Stupid fucking blessed blades.

“Yeah? Wait until Wu hears about this. Then Kozu will get what's coming to him.” Cole huffed between bites as he stress ate.

“Was using your princely powers necessary?” Zane murmured from where he was lounging on the couch, head resting in Jay's lap as he counted his loot, the sack of valuables nearby.

What? You thought he'd leave it?

“Are- are you fucking kidding me Zane?” Lloyd says turning to him from where he was standing by the door. “You could have been killed if I hadn't. You all could have been!” He yelled at him then growled as he turned away again.

“It was my fault. I shouldn't have let us go to that fucking penthouse. I shouldn't have let us stayed that long.” He whispered as he looked down.

“Look. We all decided to go. This isn't on you alone.” Nya says as Kai bandaged her up.

“Quit the fucking melodrama. You're sounding like a fucking Warrior or a Droid.” Morro says as he walked into the room. “Look, for all our fathers have been talking about the Generals, this is the first time we came across one. Warriors and droids we know. Generals? Not at all. Of course it'll go badly. But we have experience now. Those fuckers won't get us next time.” He swore, already planning revenge.

His dark green eyes burned with the need for vengeance.

“No-one fucks with me and gets away with it…”

______________

(Ah! Finally wrote a fic with mah boi Kozu involved! I've actually just queued this since I finished it pretty late but I really love this au and all the beautiful art made for it! I thought: since the ninja are demons... Why not make the Overlord, Lord and the Stone Warriors along with the Nindroids be basically this au's version of angels? By the way, Morro also has the power to control demons since in this au he is the biological son of Wu. His just looks as if he possessed them. Ah. That's all I can think to add for now. I hope you guys liked it!)