#partner suddenly found a reliable listing for it

[robustcornhusk]

ordered something a few weeks ago; on the day it was supposed to arrive, it was marked as delivered while i was sitting on the porch (artistic license). unfortunate, but shit goes missing sometimes, whatever. i got a refund.

last night someone from [shipping company] knocked on the door to follow up on it.

huh. never had that happen before.

[mariacallous]

When the Egyptian government shut down the internet in 2011 to give itself cover to crush a popular protest movement, it was Nora Younis who got the word out. Younis, then a journalist with daily newspaper Al-Masry Al-Youm, found a working internet connection at the InterContinental Cairo Semiramis Hotel that overlooked Tahrir Square, the heart of the protests. From the balcony, she filmed as protesters were shot and run down with armored vehicles, posting the footage to the newspaper’s website, where it was picked up by global media.

In 2016, with Egypt having slid back into the authoritarianism that prompted the uprising, Younis launched her own media platform, Al-Manassa, which combined citizen journalism with investigative reporting. The following year, Almanassa.com suddenly disappeared from the Egyptian internet, along with a handful of other independent publications. It was still available overseas, but domestic users couldn’t see it. Younis’ team moved their site to a new domain. That, too, was rapidly blocked, so they moved again and were blocked again. After three years and more than a dozen migrations to new domains and subdomains, they asked for help from the Swedish digital forensics nonprofit Qurium, which figured out how the blocks were being implemented—using a network management tool provided by a Canadian tech company called Sandvine.

Sandvine is well known in digital rights circles, but unlike leading villains of the spyware world such as NSO Group or Candiru, it’s often floated below the eyeline of lawmakers and regulators. The company, owned by the private equity group Francisco Partners, mainly sells above-board technology to internet service providers and telecom companies to help them run their networks. But it has often sold that technology to regimes that have abused it, using it to censor, shut down, and surveil activists, journalists, and political opponents.

On Monday, after years of lobbying from digital rights activists, the US Department of Commerce added Sandvine to its Entity List, effectively blacklisting it from doing business with American partners. The department said that the company’s technology was “used in mass-web monitoring and censorship” in Egypt, “contrary to the national security and foreign policy interests of the United States.” Digital rights activists say it’s a major victory because it shows that companies can’t avoid responsibility when they sell potentially dangerous products to clients who are likely to abuse them.

“Better late than never,” Tord Lundström, Qurium’s technical director, says. “Sandvine is a shameless example of how technology is not neutral when seeking profit at all costs.”

”We are aware of the action announced by the US Commerce Department, and we’re working closely with government officials to understand, address, and resolve their concerns,” says Sandvine spokesperson Susana Schwartz. “Sandvine solutions help provide a reliable and safe internet, and we take allegations of misuse very seriously.”

Sandvine’s flagship product is deep packet inspection, or DPI, a common tool used by ISPs and telecom companies to monitor traffic and prioritize certain types of content. DPI lets network administrators see what’s in a packet of data flowing on the network in real time, so it can intercept or divert it. It can be used, for example, to give priority to traffic from streaming services over static web pages or downloads, so that users don’t see glitches in their streams. It has been used in some countries to filter out child sexual abuse images.

But the technology can also be used to divert traffic away from sites or social media platforms and into dead ends, effectively censoring them. It’s the main technology used by Roskomnadzor, the Russian state censor, to shut off or throttle sites the government has banned.

“On paper, it’s technology that has legitimate aims, but it can be abused on a mass scale if it’s given to the wrong hands,” says Marwa Fatafta, Middle East and North Africa policy and advocacy director at digital rights group Access Now, which has been lobbying the US government to take action against Sandvine. “If you’re selling your technology to repressive governments that you know have a dismal record of human rights, you know that your technology will end up being abused.”

This dual use has made authoritarian governments enthusiastic adopters of DPI. In 2017, according to Bloomberg and Qurium, Sandvine was among the tools used by the government in Azerbaijan to black out livestreaming services and social media sites during anti-corruption protests, and to later block access to a major opposition newspaper.

In 2018, the Canadian cybersecurity research center Citizen Lab found that Sandvine’s tools had been used to deploy “nation-state spyware” onto users’ devices in Syria and Turkey.

In 2020, Sandvine’s DPI tool was used to shut down the internet during anti-government protests in Belarus. The outcry that followed led to the company canceling its contract with the government in Minsk. However, Sandvine apparently continued to seek contracts in places that routinely censor the internet. In 2022, a Bloomberg investigation found that the company had been pursuing business in Russia, where the government has been rolling out a massive system of decentralized censorship, often using DPI. Sandvine has reportedly now largely pulled out of the Russian market after sanctions were imposed on the country following the full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

In Egypt, Sandvine has provided a key tool in the government’s attempt to strangle independent voices, allegedly helping to block hundreds of sites, including Al-Manassa. The impact has been devastating for independent sites, Younis says. The constant disruption has cut them off from audiences and revenue streams, making it hard to sustain themselves financially. Many independent media outlets have shut down.

“This, of course, has definitely had a lot of impact on people’s awareness in access to information and their ability to hold officials accountable,” Younis says. “There are parliamentary elections, presidential elections—many times where maybe things would have been different if there was free access to information.”

The technical censorship is only part of the Egyptian government’s far broader crackdown on independent media and political opponents, which includes physical and legal intimidation. But Younis, like others, thought that the involvement of a Western tech company meant that she might have an avenue to seek redress. Two years ago, she started speaking with rights groups in Canada and the US to try to figure out whether she could sue Sandvine, which has never responded to any of her requests to speak. She was advised against it, on the grounds that she could open herself up to expensive counter-litigation. She lobbied Canadian diplomats, who were sympathetic but said they couldn’t help. “Their heart’s in the right place, but they say that the laws in Canada don’t work like that,” she says.

This speaks to the difficulty in regulating so-called dual-use technologies—tools whose danger depends on the context in which they’re deployed. In the US and European Union, lawmakers have begun to expand older restrictions covering dual-use technologies that could be used as, or to build, weapons to cover surveillance and censorship. But the process has been slow. NSO Group, whose Pegasus spyware has been implicated in the surveillance of hundreds of human rights activists, journalists, and politicians all over the world, was added to the Entity List only in late 2021, years after the scandal broke.

Victims of the censorship tools, including Younis, had little hope that Sandvine would be sanctioned, and Monday’s announcement took them by surprise. (Qurium’s Lundström’s first response via Signal on Tuesday morning was simply: “Oh fucking yeah.”)

Being added to the Entity List means that any American company that wants to work with Sandvine will need to seek a special license. “It is essentially a ban,” says Natalia Krapiva, tech legal counsel at Access Now. “There is a presumption that [licenses] will not be approved.”

That means Sandvine could struggle to access US technology services and infrastructure.

“It’s a big deal for companies to be going and asking for a license to do business with a company that the US government says represents a risk to our national security interests and foreign policy,” Krapiva says.

The Department of Commerce’s decision is, she adds, “hugely significant. It is a huge victory for all of us: civil society, victims of this technology, and the regimes that they were supplying into. … [Sandvine] could have stuck with sort of normal, civilian purposes. Instead, they chose to sell to dictators and facilitate censorship and repression. And so finally, they paid some price.”

[msommers]

1, 9, 13 and 25 for riya and jorina from the romance meme!

ty!!! 💜💜 // romance & relationship headcanons

1. what is your muse's sexual/romantic orientation?

RIYA — bi princess 🥰 [some rambling about other thoughts on this topic in the next question] 

JORINA — also bisexual, and i've had some occasions of bouncing around thoughts of her potentially being demi as well. explains her lack of a romantic history (aka being entirely uninterested in pursuing romance) and beginning to crush on aleksi after she's gotten to spend a good amount of time with him on missions.

9. is your muse monogamous or polyamorous? would they be interested in a polyamorous relationship?

RIYA — i was thinking about this the other day and am still in somewhat of a "i could be debated out of my choice if the right points were brought up" space around it, but i could see her as polyamorous. i think she’s had past experience and learned a lesson or two (not as many as she should have but hey that's riya), and would certainly require a long starting discussion on boundaries/comfort levels and frequent check-ins as things go along, but i could see it. the biggest issue here would be her suffering jealousy, but that’s rarely a problem for her and could be solved with clear communication (which i simply don’t see her struggling with since she talks about fuckin’ anything loudly and openly, as i’ve discovered through dadnd sessions).

JORINA — monogamous, i don’t think she’d be able to handle polyamory tbh. she already has to juggle a lot of self-doubt with just one partner, her overthinking would go into overdrive if somebody else was in the picture. I’M gonna have a panic just thinking about how worked up she’d get over it lmao

13. what traits does your muse value in a romantic partner?

RIYA — rough because riya’s had numerous partners and the range of personalities is Insane, she’s not consistent in type. some general ones: romantic, passionate, direct, confident, supportive, brave. circling back after finishing other answers to add that sensual, patient and adventurous also come to mind.

JORINA — loyal, courageous, reliable, honest are all the ones she could have expected. romantic and optimistic are ones she discovered great appreciation for along the way, learned that she values having a partner that's an opposite in some ways to bring her a new perspective.

25. does love and romance mean a lot to your muse? do they seek it constantly or let it come when it does?

RIYA — i’d say it’s high-up on the top 5 of her priorities list because of the easy life she’s had. i can’t see her having trouble with or a preference for either, there have been times where romance/attraction has fallen into her eager lap and also plenty of occasions where she’s sought after it herself because she feels a lack. i’m including sexual ventures in this consideration just because it's riya, but if we take that bit away then it’s probably a bit lower on the priorities list. slut (but said as a goof and with all of the affection in the world she's valid there's a lot of hotties around)

JORINA — didn’t seek it out at all, was absolutely gobsmacked when it showed up. they weren't things that meant a lot to her until she suddenly found them in the midst of the inquisition, and because that work was so dangerous it helped in how quickly they became important to her. she'd been all business for so long, it was uncomfortable and unfamiliar to start but so gratifying to discover with aleksi what love and romance could mean.

[sariahsue]

Jealousy

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?" "Please, chaton," Marinette said. "Don't do this to yourself." "I just want to know." Softly she said, "It would have been so easy."

***

Marinette leaned into Chat Noir's side as she stared at their abandoned Uno cards (she had won three rounds in a row). They were on the floor in her room, surrounded pink fabric and dim twilight.

"Hey, Bug?"

"Hm?" It was strange, how easily she'd gotten used to him knowing her identity. It had been an accident, but she wouldn't change anything now.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice rumbled through her.

"Aren't you asking something now?" She'd expected a laugh or at least a resigned sigh, but he said nothing. Marinette pushed a wild card with her toe. "Sure."

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?"

Every point of contact her body had with his seemed suddenly electrified, her head on his shoulder, her arm against his, where her knee brushed his leg, and she shifted away to give herself some breathing space.

Her walls were bare. He'd asked permission to visit her at home, and she'd taken down almost every picture of Adrien. Evidence of her crush on someone else was not something she wanted to push on him every time he came over. He didn't deserve that.

"Um... do you want to play another round of Uno, or should we do something else?"

"Marinette, I'm serious. Would you have?"

Chat Noir wasn't often serious. If he wanted to go down this path, the best she probably could do was make his pain quick.

She shrugged in response. "Maybe, I guess. Video games? I have UMS 4."

"Really, that's it? You guess? That's not a real answer."

"Please, chaton. Don't do this to yourself."

He slid closer, closing the tiny gap between them that she'd opened up. "I just want to know."

Twilight was slipping into full dark as they sat. The streetlamp outside her window blinked on. He wasn't going to back down on this, was he? Fine. As quickly as she could, then.

"You're kind and compassionate. You're reliable. You're funny." Again, she waited for some reaction, a laugh, a self-satisfied "I knew it!" but he only waited for her to finish. "We have such a strong connection, and I trust you with my life. You're brave. You're my best friend." Softly she added, "It would have been so easy. That's the real answer."

The room was quiet enough that she heard how fast his breathing was. They were so close together that she swore she could feel his pounding heart. Or maybe that was hers. Sitting side-by-side made her feel like a coward. It was too easy to avoid his eyes.

How badly had she hurt him?

"So why haven't you talked to him yet?" Chat Noir asked.

"What?"

"If you'd pick him over all that, then you must like him a lot, but you aren't together. And I can't imagine anyone rejecting you, so you must not have asked him out yet."

Maybe she should have added perceptive to the list, but to be fair he'd never been so devastatingly accurate before.

At least this was something they could laugh at together. "I'm... very awkward around him. I'm pretty sure I make him uncomfortable sometimes."

"I doubt it," he said. "So who is he?"

Marinette got up. She suddenly needed some movement. Time to think. More space. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate this!" Marinette turned to face him for this first time that night. "I hate hurting you every time you bring it up."

He leaned back like he was unconcerned, but he didn't return her gaze. "I'm only curious," he said. "I just want to know what type of person attracts Ladybug. That's all."

"I'll tell you under two conditions."

He stopped studying her mannequin to peek at her from the corner of his eye.

"One, you stop asking about it. Two, you don't laugh at me."

He finally turned to her completely. "Laugh? Why would I laugh?"

Part of her wished that he would. His laugh would be a welcome sound right now.

"Because you're going to think it's a celebrity crush, and it's not."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

Marinette groaned. Nothing to do about it now except get it over with. "Adrien Agreste."

Chat Noir was on his feet so fast Marinette almost didn't see him move. "Plagg, claws-"

She didn't hear the rest of his sentence over her shrieking "NO!" but did she see the flash of green light behind her eyelids. "What are you doing? Put your suit back on!"

"No."

"I'm not going to look at you."

Where were the kwamis? Why weren't they telling him this was a bad idea?

"You have to retransform." Marinette backed up until she hit her desk. What on earth was he doing?

"No, not until you look."

"You'll have to," she said. "You can't walk out my front door and let people see you. You'll have to leave the way you came in."

"You're just going to keep your eyes closed for the rest of the night?"

She nodded.

Soft footsteps walked toward her. It wasn't the normal tap of boots that she was used to. It sounded wrong. Another reminder that one mistake from her would put his identity in jeopardy. He stopped right in front of her, circled his arms around her loosely and waited. It wasn't until she let herself sink against his chest that he tightened his grip.

"I'm not opening my eyes," she said.

"Then please just listen to my voice," the boy who was Chat Noir said. "I won't tell you my name, but please just listen?"

She nodded, her face buried in his neck. Even if she did open her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see him.

"When I'm not transformed, I'm much quieter."

"A quiet Chat Noir?" Marinette asked. "What must that be like?"

"I don't show off either. I try to avoid attention, actually. I get too much of it."

As he spoke, his voice started to change, matching the quieter, more gentle picture of himself that he painted for her. It sounded like... like...

"Did you know that we know each other outside the masks? We go to the same school."

With each sentence, Marinette began to realize that his voice was achingly familiar. He still sounded like her partner, on days that they were just talking or when they'd share sad stories. But he also sounded like someone else, someone whose voice she'd thought she knew by heart.

He stopped talking, letting her figure out the truth in silence.

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't. But her fingers could wander. They found his ungloved hand first, then moved up to his wrists. His forearms were bare, and as she expected, his sleeve had been rolled up above his elbow. Her fingers skimmed his upper arm and across his shoulder to his neck. She found the buttons of an open overshirt with a soft cotton tee underneath. If she wanted to, she could have reached up to touch his hair or trace her fingers over his nose and cheeks and eyelids, everything his mask usually hid. He would have let her.

Instead she leaned into his neck and felt his head drop on top of hers. Marinette finally opened her eyes. The overshirt was white. The tee underneath was black with colored stripes. Exactly how she remembered.

"You're kind and compassionate," he said. "You're brave and creative and amazing."

A tear slipped across her cheek. She was crying. When had that started?

"It was so easy to fall in love with you, Marinette."

Her hands left his shoulders to wrap around him and pull him closer to her. "I love you too, Adrien."

***

A/N: Written for Marichat May 2021. Prompt: Jealousy. @marichatmay

[batsandbugs]

Help (I Need Somebody) Help

AN: Hey everyone! So I’ve got a new fic, this is inspired from an ask from @glitchon​. They wanted a “Wrong Number Daminette AU”, they gave me a couple of things they wanted to see, and so I went to town. I hope y’all enjoy! Tag list is open, and as always the pictures for the moodboard aren’t mine. 

Chapter 1 

The patter of rain outside Marinette’s window wasn’t keeping her awake, no, the creeping numbness consuming every inch of her body – a craving for oblivion and stimulation all at once – did that on its own.

But the rain certainly wasn’t helping.

On nights like these, where everything was too little and too much, she would find herself escaping to her rooftop balcony and gaze at the stars. Tikki would lie beside her whispering tales of elegance and power; the stories of miraculous holders of long ago fighting against those who would cause the world harm. Her constant companion – a voice of reason when her own brain shouted too loud – was the only reason she was doing as well as she was.

And Marinette knew herself; she wasn’t doing well.

But when the skies covered with clouds, drenching the streets, and blocking the stars it forced her to remain indoors. The hum of electricity, faint but noticeable – a noise she had been unable to ignore ever since donning her miraculous - an irritating background hum. The powers she received when untransformed existed as a blessing and a curse. It without a doubt saved her from one too many klutzy moments, but there were days she missed the ignorance about the nuances of the world around her.

Another moment of strained silence passed before she had enough. She crawled out from under her warmed covers, the cold November night chilling her. Being careful not to disturb the sleeping Kwami, Marinette stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers and descended from her loft bed, and wandered over to her chaise. Crawling under a large knitted blanket – a project from a few years ago - she glanced out her window watching the illuminated rain run down the pane.

The change in location did nothing to help the static in her brain as it wrapped its meticulous tendrils around every train of thought that tried to usher her towards coherence.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to smile.

She wanted to cry.

She wanted to care.

She wanted to feel something, anything, other than the gaping emptiness slowly consuming her.

And yet as the moments ticked by, and the rain continued to patter, nothing came.

Marinette was scared nothing ever would.

A small light flickered in the corner of her eye. She slipped off her chaise and walked over to her desk – her phone alight with a notification.

Well, at least there was the internet to help her escape from the directionless dread snapping at her heels.

Grabbing her phone, she retreated back under her knitted blanket, content to mindlessly scroll until the need for sleep won against her brain. It was a Friday night and with a weekend planned for ignoring online harassment from her classmates and completing piles of homework – and the potential ever-looming presence of an Akuma attack – Marinette felt secure in ignoring sleep.

She unlocked her phone.

And a slight shiver ran down her spine.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a normal shiver. Over the past four years, she had developed a particularly good sense at detecting between a normal physiological reaction, and a magic-induced one. This? This chill was magic.

Her fingers tapped on her messaging app with little input from her. Opening a new message, she typed in a number, seemingly random, but she knew by now each movement was laced with luck. Once finished the push driving her to such measures faded, leaving Marinette with a choice.

Tikki did her best to explain the phenomena several years ago when it first appeared. As Ladybug she tapped into the Strings of the universe, where her powers of creation and luck came from. When dealing with luck she subtly manipulated the flow of events around her. At first, only when transformed, and only able to rise to the surface when calling for her Lucky Charm. Eventually, the manipulation became unconscious but continuously present, unable to be directed, but still there, helping in subtle ways. And on occasion, when she wished hard enough – a little push there and a little shove there – and who knew how many blows it took to break a lamppost, and maybe she had hit it a little harder than normal?

But the older she grew, and the longer she wielded the Miraculous of Luck and Creation, the more powerful she grew outside of her transformations. And, on occasion, unconsciously tapped into the probabilities of the universe. The little nudges caused her to make and take decisions and actions she never would. But every time it did a minor problem would be solved, or an opportunity would arise, or a good thing happened that would make a normal person smile at the universe and comment on how luck favored them today.

Marinette knew better.

It was a side effect of her existence mingling with the powers of the universe. Tikki told her, within time, she would feel for the Strings herself and be able not only to manipulate her own but others’ too.

It was not the first time Marinette experienced a panic attack over her powers, and it certainly would not be the last.

Which brought her to her choice; and suddenly, sitting in her darkened room at two in the morning staring at her phone with a random number on the screen, resembled being perched on top of the Eiffel Tower, feet dangling over the edge, the l’appel du vide – the call of the void – twisted around her, caressing her like a friend and urging her to just… fall.

A random number, a string of electricity running into the darkness, unknown and unknowable. Like shouting into the wind at the beach, the water stretching far as the eye could see, the words would take to the sky and disappear.

Only, a text would go… somewhere.

To… someone.

And they might, just maybe, respond.

A shiver, this time her own, rolled through her.

Marinette glanced up at her loft bed, a small red glow, barely perceptible to the human eye, lingering in the air.

Tikki wouldn’t be pleased.

The tiny Kwami always urged Marinette to caution when it came to taking risks like these. Even the goddess herself had a tough time figuring out where actions prompted from the Strings would lead. And this… this had the potential to go very, very, wrong.

But…

Every time Marinette followed the urgings of the universe, she had never been disappointed. True, its effects could be small, barely noticeable at times, but not always. The effect could be much larger. Marinette was always pleased whatever the outcome.

Even if the responsibility of the rest of the power laid heavier on her shoulders with each passing day.

Everywhere Marinette turned she stood alone. Cut off from her parents by necessity; the overwhelming urge to keep them safe, to keep them out of danger forced her to remain silent and ready lie at the drop of a hat. Cut off from her friends and classmates by manipulation; Lila succeeded in twisting them to her whims – the girl had no mercy to stay her vicious tongue, no morals to limit the stories her mind twisted into being. Cut off from mentorship by a quirk of magic; Master Fu deserved to live the rest of his life without guilt, but for his guiding influence to be taken away meant floundering on what to do next. Cut off even from her own partner; Chat flipped between hot and cold, flirtatious and disinterested, reliable and fickle. The days where they could talk about everything and nothing during evening patrols had faded away into uncomfortable silences.

That left Luka… sweet, sweet Luka.

Marinette sighed.

Holding herself together on a good day was hard enough. What good would she be as a girlfriend? Flighty and closed off, unable to open up, constantly in fear of when Hawkmoth would strike next.

No. She had made the right choice, telling the budding musician they were better off as friends.

Glancing down at her phone, the screen locked once more – a group photo of her, Adrian, Kagami, and Luka lit up behind cracked glass – she smiled, tinged with bittersweetness though it was. At least Adrian, who stuck by her side through it all, found happiness. And Kagami had proven to be a stalwart friend. Marinette still wished now and again for different circumstances, but she would never begrudge two of her closest friends for finding comfort together.

And Tikki, while a constant presence, and a needed voice of reason was still a goddess, a creature unfathomably old. Still sweet, caring, and understanding, but detached from the constant stress and pressures of human existence. She was unable to truly be an outlet for Marinette to confide in.

With everything laid out before her culminating together in a bleak understanding of her isolation, it appeared obvious her actions, driven by the luck of the universe, seemed like sanctioned permission.

She unlocked her phone once more. 

Taking a quick breath, the wind whipping smugly beneath her dangling feet, she began to type.

[sunflowershouto]

only us - part one (daichi x f!reader x oikawa)

𝐚/𝐧: hi beans! i got this idea for a series listening to one of my favorite albums and i really hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! there is some canon divergence just for the purposes of the story: daichi is a detective, and oikawa is a pro-player in japan. as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated! enjoy! -leo

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After getting out of a long term relationship, Y/N is reunited with an old friend from college. Old feelings are reignited, but things just don't seem to work out the way that they should.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pining, mentions of infidelity in the context of a past relationship

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: slowburn, love triangle 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧��𝐩𝐨: animal - annie eve

❝𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕. . .❞ ❝𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒊 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. . .❞

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐒

‧₊˚✩彡.

The previous weeks had been what Y/N could only describe as a gravity-well, the center of which she was trapped in. She couldn’t outrun the heaviness in her chest, and her mind was all spinning circles and revolving doors that were moving too fast for her to escape from.

However, the pace of her career was relentless, and being a journalist meant that there was no time for her to take pause or wallow in the misery of a freshly-ended relationship—if she wanted to survive in her field, she would have to keep moving and moving and moving, with that gravity-well following overhead.

The soles of her shoes clicked softly against the linoleum tile of the Tokyo Police Department’s main office, her demeanor giving away none of the turmoil that was simmering within. She was polite and professional as she explained that she was a journalist there to speak to one of the detectives about a case she was working on, and to any onlooker, she might have even seemed cheerful.

She was led down a long hallway into one of the offices, given a seat in front of a large mahogany desk, and told to wait.

Y/N found that as of late, she hated having any sort of down-time that might force her into stillness. She couldn’t see the clock that hung over the doorway behind her, but she could hear it—she could feel it. It ticked monotonously, and with each forward stroke of the second hand, she felt like she was sinking further and further into herself. The heaviness in her chest crept up on her and became crushing as she was allowed time to think: about the sight of someone she didn’t recognize lying in her bed, lying in the arms of her partner. About the signs that she had been ignoring for the weeks leading up to it. About how silent her apartment was when she came home in the evenings when there was no one else there to fill the space. It had been months, and she was still trapped as though it had all happened yesterday.

She tapped her foot impatiently against the ground, challenging the slow rhythm of the clock as though the frenzied tempo of her agitation could force the seconds to pass faster.

Eventually, the door behind her swung open, and the detective stepped into the room.

“Excuse me for being so late,” came a deep and almost familiar voice from behind her. She stood and turned to face him, eager for something to snap her out of her trance, but was forced back into stillness as recognition settled over her. “Daichi?”

Sure enough, earnest dark eyes stared into her own, and for a moment, as a wide grin split across his face, the gravity-well that loomed over her finally seemed to let up.

He stepped towards her, both of them abandoning any semblance of formality. “Y/N, I can’t believe it’s really you. It’s been…” “Forever,” she supplied, flashing him a warm and sheepish smile.

“Yeah. Forever.” Daichi’s gaze was piercing as he took her in, staring for just a moment too long before moving to take his place behind his desk. He carded through a few files on his desk before pulling one rather decisively from the stack.

It was Y/N’s turn to stare, taking in the way he moved about his surroundings with relaxed authority, as though he knew exactly where he belonged. He hadn’t changed at all since college, not one bit. She couldn’t take her eyes away, even as he glanced up at her through his lashes, head still tilted down towards the papers in his hands.

She was stuck like that, lost in his dark and steady gaze, her heart seeming to stutter to life in her chest.

“L/N?”

‧₊˚✩彡.

“L/N! Don’t get too far ahead!” Daichi scolded lightly, fondness in his eyes as he watched Y/N skip ahead of him, carnival lights reflecting like stars in her eyes. Her joy was contagious to him, like a flame in his hands that he wanted to keep kindling and protecting.

“Stop being such a worry-wart, Dai,” she laughed over her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped adamantly around the plushie that he’d won her just a few minutes ago, a blue penguin that smiled vacantly no matter how tightly she squeezed him. “Do you think we could go on the Ferris Wheel? I bet we could see the whole city from the top!” He nodded, quickening his pace to keep up with her. They were walking side by side now, and Daichi had made plans for this exact scenario—he’d brush his hand gently against hers, and find a natural opening to intertwine their fingers. The only thing that stood in the way was the round blue penguin that she had named ‘Squish.’ He shot a sidelong glare down at the unassuming plushie that was currently occupying Y/N’s arms, mentally cursing the stupid thing for ruining his plans. “One ride on the Ferris Wheel, and then home, alright? You have a lecture tomorrow and you’ll be grouchy tomorrow if you stay out so late.”

Y/N turned to face him in mock-offense, sticking her tongue out and hugging Squish closer. “What? I don’t get grouchy!”

“Maybe ‘unpleasant’ would be a better wor—agh!” He broke out into warm laughter as her elbow collided softly with his side, and he held up his hands defensively as if to finally relent. “Alright, alright!” “I’ll have you know, I am delightful always,” she insisted, beaming triumphantly.

And there was that smile again, the one that felt like fire in his hands and made his mind go blank and his body feel like there was lightning inside. “Yeah,” Daichi agreed softly.

‧₊˚✩彡.

“And that’s the basics of what we have so far. Unless we have some sort of solid proof, I have no way to make the arrest. It’s been months and… Nothing,” Daichi sighed wearily, flipping the case-file shut and leaning back in his desk chair, a frown etched deep into his features. His coat was draped across the back of his chair and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, markers of the hours that had passed since he and Y/N had begun discussing the Suzuki case.

The department had been investigating Goichi Suzuki for years, with strong suspicion that his company was partially a front for drug-trafficking. Evidence had always been circumstantial, and leads seemed to disappear as soon as they turned up, frustrating even the best of the department’s detectives. Sawamura, however, had refused to give up.

“Daichi.” Her voice was clear, almost lyrical, as she addressed him. Her own concerns were momentarily abandoned as she worked to tether him, to pull him out of the frustration that she knew could be so crippling. “We’re going to catch him.”

“Right.” His expression seemed lighter now, lifted in determination and renewed confidence. “Well… That’s about all we can do today until you can speak to your sources. Thank you for agreeing to help me, Y/N.” It wasn’t what he was saying, so much as how he was saying it—nothing he had said, if repeated back on paper, would sound anything but professional and polite. It was the way that his eyes shone, and his voice warmed up to her like honey on a hot day that told her that his ‘thank you’ was more than just business. She was almost suffocated by how deeply she had missed him, but she knew what this was—she was starting to rebound. She had just gotten out of a relationship that had ended in a messy breakup. Of course her old feelings would be amplified, especially when he was being so damn inviting.

“Of course, Daichi.” She could only watch as he pushed himself out of his chair and circled around to the other side of his desk, then took perch on the front corner just in front of her, his body language now completely casual.

He tilted his head slightly as he took a closer look at her, his face scrutinizing but not-quite judgemental. “So. What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Y/N shrunk back beneath his gaze, suddenly much more conscious of how she was holding herself, what she was presenting to the world around her. Stop looking at me like that, damnit… Had she really made it so obvious that she was carrying around her own personal baggage? Great. She could add looking unprofessional to her ever-growing list of things to worry about. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been a long time, and you’re good at hiding it, but I still know you well enough to know when something’s bothering you. Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but… What’s the matter?” Daichi leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his legs.

“Well…” Y/N began hesitantly, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, “It’s a bit of a long story, but I just got out of a long-term relationship. It didn’t end very neatly, and I guess I’m still just... “ She trailed off, unable to find a word that could even begin to cover the regret, the doubt, the blame, the unfairness of it all.

“Processing?” he suggested, his tone much gentler than before.

“Yeah. Processing.”

His expression softened into a sympathetic smile, and he brought up an idle hand to scratch the side of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll make it through just fine,” he assured her. “You’ve always been strong.”

Just like it always used to be, Daichi’s reliability was enough to help uplift her, and Y/N found herself mirroring his smile easily, sinking into the comfort of having a friend that she could trust. “Thank you, Dai.”

Days and then weeks went by, and the pair found it easy to mask the tension with the guise of professionalism—stray glances and candid smiles could all be brushed aside as remnants of their old friendship, the foundations of which they had found were still very much in-tact.

Daichi felt a rush of inexplicable pride every time Y/N confided in him, though she only did so in fragments, each of which he remembered carefully to try and piece together later. He could tell whenever they landed on the topic of her last relationship that it was still sore, that he shouldn’t press too hard on a bruise that was still healing. He kept his growing contempt for her ex-partner to himself, though he entertained his own ideas of what he’d like to say to the man if they ever crossed paths. Sawamura didn’t care for unfaithfulness to begin with, but the anger that swelled inside him with each new detail that Y/N shared was almost unjustifiable. Or at least, it would have been, if she was just a colleague to him.

‧₊˚✩彡.

“Sorry for keeping you at the precinct so late.” Streetlights lined their path, showering the detective and the journalist in an unnatural orange light, which was broken sporadically by the brilliant glow of passing headlights that faded into dull red as they disappeared down the road. It had been almost 2 months since their first meeting, and the two had fallen into an easy rhythm, which they used to dance around the growing tension.

“Not at all,” Y/N assured him, shoving her hands deeper into her coat pockets as frigid air bit harshly into the exposed skin. “I think we made some really good progress today! The overtime was definitely worth it.”

“Right…” he agreed absently, watching her in his periphery before sneaking a longer look. The streetlamps shone in her eyes like those carnival lights had all those years ago, and he was reminded of the flame in his hands, which now seemed to flicker just out of reach. He knew it was wrong of him to allow his feelings to be reignited, and on more than one count. She had confided in him the details of a traumatic breakup, not to mention the fact that they were currently acting as partners on a professional level. Logically, he knew all of these things, and Daichi had always been good at logic. It was how he kept his cool under pressure, and the reason that he was a detective at all—but right now, logic was the furthest thing from his mind. The girl that he had once been in love with had fallen right back in front of him, like the world was handing him a chance on a silver platter. He’d be a damned fool not to take it.

For a moment, their staggered steps and the occasional passing car were the only sounds to ease the tension. The hum of the city, which Sawamura usually found comforting, was now taunting, like a thousand flies buzzing in the distance. Finally, Daichi spoke again, if only to keep himself from drowning in the silence that hung between them. “Let’s grab dinner, okay? It’s late and neither of us has eaten since we started working.”

Y/N’s response was delayed, and for the first time in weeks, there was an expression on her face that he found himself unable to read. Her pause couldn’t have been that long, maybe a second or two at most, but it was enough time for a simmering anxiety to sweep over him in a wave. And then she smiled again, and it set his mind on fire.

When they stepped out of the restaurant, it was like leaving a time-capsule. Cheap ramen after a night spent studying had been a staple of their friendship in college, and being there again had left them both feeling like the years had melted away around them. Things felt simpler, more carefree than they’d been in months.

“My apartment isn’t far from the train station,” Daichi told Y/N as they stepped back out into the cold. He could feel it, the haze of nostalgia slowly seeping through the cracks in the pavement, getting carried further away by each passing car. “I can walk most of the way with you.”

“Alright,” Y/N agreed tentatively, wrapping her coat tighter around her as they started down the sidewalk. She could feel that the pull between them was growing stronger, that she was starting to open up to him more and more and more, and she was scared that her old feelings for him would spin out of control if she let herself get swept away by the sentimentality that was swelling up inside her. ‘These feelings aren’t real. Rebounding. I’m rebounding.’ She could repeat it to herself as many times as she wanted, but she’d always been a shitty liar—even when it came to lying to herself.

“Can… Can I ask you something?” Daichi finally interjected after about a block and a half of silence. He sounded tense, nervous even, and Y/N could tell that he was preparing to approach a difficult subject—she didn’t have to be the detective to know what.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, her gaze trained on the pavement beneath her feet, counting the uniform lines in the concrete as she stepped over them. “Anything.”

He took a deep breath, hesitating as though he were expecting his next words to go wrong, but trusting that they were both comfortable in their friendship. “How… How did you find out that Takashi was cheating on you?”

The question hung heavy in the air, settling uncomfortably around her shoulders, and though it was a forward thing to ask, Y/N couldn’t say that it was totally unexpected. They’d been weaving their way through the subject for weeks now—it had only been a matter of time before they finally arrived here.

She was careful not to slow her pace as she formulated an answer in her head, still trying to mask some of the hurt that she was carrying with her. “Well… I had been travelling for work. It wasn’t a long trip, and I wasn’t far; just a weekend a few cities over. But, I finished my interviews ahead of schedule, so I decided to come home early on my last day.” Y/N was forcing her voice to stay even, pacing herself and trying hard not to let herself fall into the weight of her words. She realized now that she hadn’t told this story yet, hadn’t even really let herself process it.

She could feel Daichi staring, and she glanced to the side, knowing that she’d melt under his gaze. “When- When I got back to the apartment—our apartment—it was early afternoon. I didn’t see him anywhere so I thought that maybe he’d run out for groceries or food or, well—it doesn’t matter what I thought, I guess. I went to our room to put my things away and- and he-”

They had reached his apartment now, and they lingered on his doorstep, bathed in the glow of fluorescent lamps.

Daichi watched her with sorrow in his eyes, his gut twisting with the impulse to reach out to her as she began to cry. He was angry—angry at the one who had done this to her, angry at himself for feeling the way he did, wanting the things that he wanted.

“He was in our bed, and she was there too. And he- he was holding her like she belonged there, like- like they had done this a thousand times and-” Her voice finally broke against the lump in her throat, and her hands quickly moved to hide herself as tears spilled freely down the sides of her face. “And I’m not strong, because I just felt so- so stupid, Daichi. For thinking that- that I could ever mean something to someone wh-”

“Don’t,” Daichi interjected softly, finally finding the words to comfort her. Gently, his hands curled around her wrists and pulled them from her face, his own expression distressed as he took in the sight of her like this, overwhelmed by a hurt that she had been hiding and carrying with her for so long. “Don’t. You could. You do. Listen to me; whatever he did, whatever choice he made, it wasn’t about you. Trust me. Please.”

Y/N’s vision was still blurred by welling tears, but nothing could obscure the intensity that burned in Daichi’s eyes as he held her hands away from her face. There was an urgency about him that amplified his usual sincerity until she was consumed by it, by the feeling that she was safe with him.

“Daichi…” she whispered, her voice still watered down as they searched each other’s eyes, every moment leading up to this one playing back in their minds.

He pulled her close against him and held her like he was afraid she’d disappear, his arms tightening as she returned his embrace. He lost himself as she looked up at him with those red-rimmed and puffy eyes, glittering with tears. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her wildly, desperately.

Y/N’s heart stopped as he started, but she kissed back, letting her mind run blank as he pulled her closer into him, comforted by the steadiness of his arms around her. There were sparks between them that she could no longer explain away, lightning that only accompanied love, indisputable proof that he was more than just a friend, that this was more than just a rebound. When he kissed her, she felt alive.

She could hardly breathe when he finally pulled away from her, his eyes wild and drilling into her with a burning intensity.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, just as breathless as she was. “Stay… Stay with me.”

Her back was against his front door, and she knew exactly what that look in his eye meant—it meant that if she followed him in, that this was for real. It meant that she was serious about him, and that he was serious about her, and that they were finally letting this happen as it should have all those years ago.

The words were on her lips when the images came flooding back, of her space in her own bed occupied by another, a stranger lying in the arms of the person who she had chosen to love, to trust. Daichi’s steadiness suddenly became uncertainty, and she found herself wilting away from him.

His arms fell away from her easily, and her heart sank at the tortured look that was written all over his face as she moved away from him. She crossed her arms over her chest, and tried her hardest to at least look him in the eye. “I-I’m sorry, Daichi. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“You’re…” Daichi cut himself off, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring down at his feet, a long sigh rolling off his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Y/N. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” As Y/N turned away and headed for the train station, she was forced to reckon with her own conflicting emotions. Being with Daichi had felt so right, so safe, but the thought of taking that risk again, putting herself in a situation where a single person could hurt her so badly… If there was anyone in the world who she thought would never betray her, it was him—but that trust might only mean that she would have farther to fall.

Daichi watched her go, and though he wanted to scream as he watched her silhouette disappear into the night, he had become unequivocally certain that he truly wanted to be with her. It was what he had wanted for a long, long time.

‧₊˚✩彡.

Y/N had gotten into work that morning and immediately been scheduled to conduct a last minute interview—one of the writers for the paper’s sports column had needed to attend to a family emergency, leaving her to cover for him in his absence. She wouldn’t need to visit the precinct today, something she was almost grateful for. There was an almost unfathomable level of awkwardness between her and Daichi, and not having to see him made it that much easier to try to forget what had happened on his doorstep two weeks ago.

She stepped into the designated meeting room, notepad in hand as she slid into the seat across from the athlete that she was supposed to be interviewing. “Hi,” she began, giving him her usual professional hospitality. “I’m L/N Y/N, it’s nice to meet you— I’ll be interviewing you today.”

“Hello,” he almost seemed to chirp, leaning back into his chair and shooting her a charming, coy smile. “I’m Oikawa. But with a face like yours, I’ll let you call me Tooru.”

[httpbread]

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pairing: mikaela hyakuya x reader

words: 3921

i havent written anything coherent in. some time. also this wasn’t a request but mika is my all time favorite character. my HEART requested this.

-

"Do you and (Y/n) have some weird staring contest that no one knows about except you?"

The question is so sudden, so out of the blue, that he looks away from the aforementioned soldier only to find himself squinting up.

His target takes a step to the side, blocking the sun from his view, but he still blinks a few times before he can clearly make out the boy.

"What on earth are you talking about?" despite no longer staring at the sun, this sight also makes his eyes narrow unhappily.

Much like the sun, Yuichiro smiles down at him brightly. Much more toothily. Though, thankfully, Yuu also didn’t make him burst into flames, which was also a plus in his book.

However, maybe not so much right now.

"You and (Y/n)," he says, his voice uncharacteristically low, further adding to Mikaela’s growing suspicion about this conversation, "What else?"

He says it so casually as if they were discussing no more than the weather. But Mikaela knew damned well this went deeper. A sense of deja vu padding in the from the corner of his mind.

So, albeit reluctantly, he leans over to the boy, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, his ruby gaze leaves Yuu to return home where they had been and often were.

Thankfully, they’re none the wiser about what’s happening, still sitting a couple of yards away from them, their hands animatedly gesturing before them like their life depended on it as they explained something to the Hiragi settled across from them.

He says, very quietly to Yuu, "Did Shinoa put you up to this?"

To which, Yuu responds, just as hushed, "If I say yes will you still tell me?"

He fights back against the small upwards tug of his lips at his friends’ reliable antics as he sits up straight again. Always so honest.

"Mika?" Yuu quickly worries, his voice growing a little higher in pitch as he begins to clumsily backtrack, "I meant- no. Shinoa didn’t say anything. It’s me. I’m asking. Why would Shinoa ask?"

"So, Shinoa did say something?" He muses, mostly just to mess with the ravenet.

As if to further stir the pot, the lavender haired leader’s eyes briefly flicker over to them, coming dangerously close to meeting his own gaze, before focusing back on the soldier before her.

(Y/n) doesn’t notice this occurrence either, now making an odd motion that made Mikaela’s brows draw. Their face is a little intense now as they try to clearly convey their point. One hand was splayed out flat and the other made a swirling motion above it. Mikaela briefly wonders what they were rambling about this time.

"Fine, fine," Yuu huffs, drawing his attention again but not enough to make him look away, only continuing to watch the pantomime of the (h/c) haired individual, "Shinoa maybe- uhm, sort of, shined a light on your problem."

At least, he continues watching her until those last words reach his ears, making Mikaela abruptly turn, "My problem?"

Yet, Yuu only grins at him, happy as ever, meeting Mikaela’s gaze with those big emerald puppy dog eyes without a care in the world, "Yup."

Mikaela only offers him a displeased look rather than an actual answer.

The only problem he had was that Shinoa was poking her nosy little nose where it didn’t belong, directly in Mikaela’s personal business.

(Y/n), on the other hand, was never a problem.

As long as they were smiling- and they often were- he was sure everything was right in the world. Over the months they had spent together, getting stuck in confined spaces, shoving back to back during combat, and even bickering with each other on the rare occasion, Mikaela could probably even write an entire guidebook on how to properly handle and care for the individual.

He was still considering the silly handbook idea when he found himself looking at a familiar shade of (e/c).

(Y/n) was looking at him, he realized, and judging by the teasing nudge Shinoa gave their shoulder this wasn’t something they had originally thought of.

Despite this, their strawberry lips curve upward at the corners to give him a toothy smile. Their (e/c) eyes twinkling as they hold his under the warm sun shining high above them.

They lift a smaller hand and wiggle it at him.

Mikaela does the same, subconsciously smiling back at them, but only a smidgen.

Mikaela had many problems, but not (Y/n) and that was certain.

However, an elbow suddenly burrowing between his ribs does add to this list of dilemmas, "Oooh! Did you see that? They’re looking at you!"

The sudden rise in Yuu’s voice makes him return the favor, except he’s significantly more gentle, "I would have never noticed."

Even though Mikaela is sure they couldn’t have heard his grumble, he watches the way their eyes light up, the hand they were waving at him with quickly darting up to muffle their laughter.

It makes his heart soften the same way it always did, ready to slip through the cracks of his rib cage like slow dripping honey.

However, Yuu nearly knocking his head into Mikaela’s forces him to divert his attention to the believed idiot next to him as he all but theatrically whispered to him- hand cupped around his mouth and everything- "Shinoa thinks they have a crush on you."

Well...

Mikaela sure hoped so.

He doesn’t cup his mouth like a dumbass, but whispers back, "Really? What makes her think that?"

This seems to stump Yuu, because he leans back, causing Mikaela to look over at him and watch as he scratches his head.

The ravenet quickly glances over at Shinoa, giving her a puzzled look.

Mikaela’s eyes draw to the lavender haired girl who catches Yuu’s gaze and makes a face back, her brows furrowing.

Then, he looks back at Yuu who shrugs at her in response.

Before then again at Shinoa who flashes him a scowl. He could practically hear her exact thoughts. Definitely something along the lines of ‘Do I really have to do everything myself?’.

Mikaela snorts quietly. She should’ve known and picked someone else to interrogate him. Almost anyone other than Yuu might have made her some inkling of progress.

"Okay, well, I don’t know about that," Yuu says, as if it weren’t obvious he had no idea what he was talking about, "But I know about you."

Mikaela raises a brow at this, "Me? What about me?"

Those ivy eyes find him, glinting with a sense of determination, "Do you like (Y/n)?"

Mikaela almost smiles.

"Of course," he responds dutifully, "They’re part of your squad. I have to."

A little bit of a white lie but it’s more than worth it to watch Yuichiro’s face twist in distaste, obviously expecting a different answer.

"No!" He huffs, lifting his arms with a flurry to cross them over his chest, "I mean- do you like like them?"

Mikaela tilts his head, looking at his age-old friend under his lashes with an all but teasing smirk, "You sound like some kind of schoolgirl, Yuu-chan."

This only serves to frustrate the boy more, "Mika."

"Yuu," he chirps back mockingly.

His eyes have drifted back to (Y/n) though, who is oddly looking at Shinoa with a disturbed expression, making Mikaela pause. That is- until Shinoa leans forward with a grin stretching across her delicate face from ear to ear. He can probably guess what’s happening there.

Mikaela decides he’s thankful Shinoa chose Yuichiro to interrogate him about this matter rather than taking a go at him herself.

He also takes a second to silently apologizes to (Y/n) who clearly does not have this luxury.

"You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, you know," the boy next to him declares uselessly, "I need answers, Mika."

Unfortunately for Yuu, Mikaela had watched him do a multitude of stupid things for many years now. He had even been dragged into most of these stupid acts as an accomplice and impulse control.

Meaning...

Mikaela could play dumb all day.

"Answers about what?"

-

(Y/n)’s eyes narrow.

They take a step to one side.

The mirror across from them does the same.

(Y/n) takes a step to the other side.

Again, the latter follows in suit, toe for toe.

(Y/n) takes a step back.

They take a step forward.

"Would you stop that?" They finally huff, squinting at their opponent unabashedly.

Shinoa was damn near shameless, asking without missing a beat, "Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No!" They squawk, still unused to her bold questions, despite having been her subordinate for at least a year now.

"Oh, oh! What about this?" Shinoa’s lips curl upward in such a grin that puts the Cheshire Cat to shame, "Has he... Y’know?"

She taps her neck with a delicate finger.

(Y/n) voiced her inquiry flatly, "Has he sucked my blood?"

Her coffee-colored eyes light up in response, so they quickly shoot this second wind down.

"No, of course not," they wave away the idea with their hand, "Do I look like a chew toy to you, Shinoa?"

(Y/n) suddenly wasn’t so sure they wanted to know what Shinoa thought they looked like, so they quickly turn on their heels, "Actually, never mind, don’t answer that."

"Oh come on! You’re telling me he hasn’t put the moves on you at all?!" She asked, as if it were an outrage, "Not even one singular move, (Y/n)?"

They don’t even warrant her with a response, continuing to walk along the cracked and battered street.

After a short meeting after breakfast this morning, they had come to the notion they should probably go scavenging in the nearby area for supplies. They would divide and conquer and be back at the rendezvous point in an hour.

Unfortunately for (Y/n), Shinoa had practically thrown her arms around them and strangled them as she declared them as their partner for the day.

Even more unfortunate, most of the area they had agreed to scavenge had turned out to be inaccessible due to debris and overgrowth, so only forty minutes later they found themselves at the place they agreed to meet at.

Alone.

With Shinoa.

This, of course, was after they thought they had escaped this morning’s weird Shinoa-involved-shenanigan.

Everything had been fine. They had just been talking about (favorite hobby) and (Y/n) had maybe gotten a little distracted explaining the details, when suddenly things took a turn for the worse.

Shinoa had nudged them and brought to their attention Mika was looking at them, and like an idiot, (Y/n) had turned to stupidly smile at him and wave.

...

Okay, so, (Y/n) didn’t regret greeting Mika but they definitely regretted the unprecedented consequences of that action.

Ever since then, Shinoa had been pestering them about some silly crush they had on the blond vampire. Asking them ridiculous questions and poking and prodding and doing the most to mess with them.

(Y/n) could only hope their apparent Prince Charming would swoop in and save them from the she-demon’s grilling.

"At least tell me you’ve held hands."

(Y/n) lifts both their hands to their face.

And buries a very quiet, very repressed yell into them.

Shinoa is, of course, unfazed by this and only giggles at their misery.

"You know... all this would go away if you just told me the truth~"

(Y/n) did know one thing- and that one thing was Shinoa. If hypothetically, they did slip up and say something, anything, they knew damned well that would only result in a million and one more questions.

If Shinoa got even so much as a centimeter on them, she would assuredly take a mile.

So, they find their composure and bluntly reply, "I already told you."

(Y/n) turns to face Shinoa, crossing their arms over their chest and flashing the girl a sour look, "There is nothing going on between me and Mika. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

Shinoa gazes back unwaveringly, holding their gaze like a lifeline, staring into the depths of their very soul as she tried to pick them apart like a broken clock.

(Y/n) is reminded to glance down at their watch. They note there is still a good ten minutes left until the rest of their team needed to be back.

But Shinoa’s sudden rise in voice makes them immediately look back up.

"Well, if it isn’t thing one and thing two," she cheerfully sneers at guests behind themself, making them glance over their shoulder curiously, mostly just relieved to have the girl’s attention off them for now.

They’re not surprised at all to find Yuichiro marching along, fists swinging at his sides with a bounce in his smiling step as he makes his way over.

Mikaela trails behind him, looking nowhere near as amused with the world, seeming a little more withdrawn into his white cloak than usual, like a little hermit crab.

The sight instantly makes their lips quirk upward.

"Took you guys long enough," they greet, more than happy to turn away from Shinoa and all her prying questions to see them, "Find anything good?"

Yuichiro nearly cuts them off before they’re finished asking, "I found a chocolate bar!"

It’s more than enough to make a big smile break out across their own lips, but it’s nothing compared to the proud way Yuu is beaming about his discovery.

"That’s... great... what about actual food? Clean water? Toilet paper?" Shinoa deadpans next to them as the two boys slow to a stop.

(Y/n) hums at this. She was only joking, but she did have a point. Maybe this area was too war-torn to effectively scavenge. It wasn’t like it was uncommon. Sometimes the only good thing to come from a place like this was a really good sneeze from all the dust or a cool looking rock.

But this idea is dispelled from their mind at a sudden rustle, before their eyes focus again on Mika who pushes a gloved hand past his cloak, revealing a plastic bag of what appeared to be some kind of supplies.

(Y/n) claps their hands together, smile returning to their features, "Oh! Nice job, Mika!"

Only for Shinoa to ‘accidentally’ shoulder check them as she reaches forward to take the bag, not so subtly mocking, "Yeah! Nice job, Mika."

However, before they can look away and rebuttal, Mikaela looks up at them, his brows knitting together and flashing them an odd look as if to ask them what the hell Shinoa was on about this time.

And just like that (Y/n)’s annoyances fizzle out instantly, a match dropped into a puddle, replaced by a laugh stirring from their chest as they muster a subtle shrug in response.

They swear for a split second they can see the corners of his lips tug upward before he forces them back down, shaking his head back at them.

Though he doesn’t say anything, they nod in agreement, silently sharing his exasperation.

"Hey, quick question-"

Their attention shifts from the blond vampire to find Yuu squinting at them, brows furrowed as he leans forward to peer at them.

It makes (Y/n)’s brows knit too, mirroring his expression but with worry instead of curiosity as they leaned back in response.

"Why are you covered in dirt?"

(Y/n) groans, quickly reaching up to shake their fingers through their usually silky locks, hoping to get most of the dust out.

Damned end of the world debris.

-

The next time Mikaela got to talk to (Y/n) was hours and hours later, much to his dismay.

It was nightfall now and the Shinoa squad had hauled up in a small easily defendable inn that Yoichi and Kimizuki had stumbled across during their own scavenging earlier in the day. The last few hours had been spent securing it as a temporary base of operations.

(Y/n) had volunteered for the first watch, but claimed the room at the end on the bottom floor.

Mikaela had decided on the room next to theirs and had waited there for an hour and a half until he was sure all the others were fast asleep in their beds. He was sure none of them were skipping out on this luxury, since they usually slept cramped up in the car or on the cracked and uneven concrete.

The wait was worth it because when he silently stepped out of his temporary room, he found the (h/c) haired individual standing outside like they had agreed, poking at a small fire they had started with a stick.

The firelight casts a golden crown on their silky (h/c) locks much like a halo and paints their familiar face an expensive flickering shade as they gaze down at the flame in boredom.

"Long day?" He speaks up, but that’s an overstatement. His voice is almost as quiet as the fire crackling and the distant chirping of crickets filling the warm summer night air around them.

Still, those (e/c) eyes flicker up and brighten instantly at the sight of him.

"You could say that," they respond evenly, a welcome hint of amusement tinging their softened voice as they all but throw their stick elsewhere, revealing to Mikaela their barrel withheld excitement. It warms his heart to know they’re so happy to see him, but he saves them the embarrassment of voicing it.

As Mikaela draws closer to them, the gravel crunches under his feet and also with their own movements when they take a seat next to the fire, quickly motioning for him to sit down too.

He does so, unbothered by the heat that greets him, but knowing their affinity for not freezing to death, being alive and all. Proof in the pudding, they were already shuffling closer to steal his warmth, wrapping their arms around their figure.

"I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you all day," they comment suddenly, making Mikaela look over at them with a slight alarm.

But he forces himself to relax when they nudge his shoulder with their own, listening to their gentle words, "Thanks for coming out."

Mikaela can’t help the small smile that finds him as he nudges them back ever so lightly, replying just as softly, "I wouldn’t miss you for the world."

"Oh, so you don’t miss me?" They snort, turning their face to look up at him blankly under their dark lashes, keeping their face carefully clear.

He scrunches his nose up at their silly antics, feeling the urge to shove them playfully but repressing it in fear of them actually moving away, "You know what I meant."

(Y/n)’s lips upturn with a small grin, "Maybe, maybe not..."

They lean closer daringly, nearly bumping noses with him as they tease, meeting his icy gaze with their (e/c) one, "Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

Mikaela indulges them, trying to convince himself that he could resist their charms if he really wanted to.

"I missed you too, (Y/n)," he breathes quietly into the air, lightly leaning forward to further decrease the space between them, resting his forehead lightly against theirs.

They gently push back against his head with their own, playful as ever, "I know."

"Do you?" He mocks, lashes sinking against his cheeks as he recalls, "Because I distinctly remember you telling Shinoa earlier that I meant nothing to you."

This time, they pull back a little to head butt him, adding a smidgen more force with faux annoyance, "That is not what I said and you know it."

"You told her I was gum on your shoe," he retorts, cracking his eyes open a smidgen to peer at them smugly, "You said you’d never seen me in your life."

"I did not, shut up," they whine, reaching a hand up in the minuscule space between them to rest his chin in the area between their pointed finger and thumb which came up to squish his cheeks.

It’s a funny feeling smiling as someone messes with your face.

"Besides, what was I supposed to tell her? The truth?" They utter, looking up at him under their lashes and arching a brow, "Because I’m sure she’d be over the moon if I waltzed in and woke her up right now to tell her that I like like you.”

Mikaela watches them steadily as their hand travels up his face to cup his cheek affectionately, "You like like me?”

(Y/n) smiles at him lazily and he admires the way the fire next to them flickers and reflects in the shine of their lively (e/c) eyes, “Shinoa’s words, not mine.”

He hums, eyes sinking closed again as he melts into their warm touch, “You know, she tried to rope Yuu into it too. Maybe she thought she could cover more ground that way or something."

The idea almost makes him snort, but he holds back, melting further into the quiet moment shared between them.

"Did you tell him?" They inquire, brushing their thumb lightly along his cheekbone. Mikaela didn’t need sleep but was certain if he ever did fall asleep again this would be how.

"Not yet," he mumbles, but saying it out loud lets a small prickle of guilt finds him, "I’d rather tell him when he wasn’t being peer pressured to ask me."

"It’s not like he’s going to notice by himself, Mika," (Y/n) retorts, but he can hear their lovely smile in the way their voice draws.

"I know," he responds lightly.

He turns his head in their hand and lovingly presses a kiss to the soft of their palm.

"Let’s not worry about them right now though. Tonight is ours."

Instead of swooning at his YA romance worthy one-liner, (Y/n) instead snorts, as if dumbfounded, "Wh- You cannot be jealous. They’re not even out here."

Mikaela’s eyes flutter open a crack only so he can flash them a sour look.

To which (Y/n) only pulls their hand away to fondly smile at him in response.

While he cherishes this look dearly, mentally taking a photograph of it to join the many others of their beautiful smile, he tells them point-blank, "Look, if you’re not going to cuddle, I’m going back to my room."

"See, that’s just cruel, you don’t even need sleep!" They argue, even as they wiggle closer to him, but they make sure to ‘accidentally’ nudge him a little roughly.

Mikaela hides his smile by resting his head on top of theirs as he welcomes them to his side wholeheartedly, lifting his arm and his cape before wrapping both snug around their figure and pulling them nearer, eliminating all space between them.

"But you do," he reminds them, patting their side fondly, "Now be quiet and close your eyes. I’ll keep watch instead."

"Quit being mean to me or I’ll go to my room," they mutter, and then add pointedly, maybe even a little quieter, "and I will sleep."

It’s not long before Mikaela realizes the reason why is because they were already halfway to snoozing, even as they mumbled that poor argument to him.

He can barely keep the smile off his lips long enough to press a feathery kiss to the top of their head.

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

[electricbluebutterflies]

Kabby + Tucking their hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face.

Post-s2 grayspace / pre-relationship, PG-ish, also on ao3.

She should be used to this. All her life has been lived on top of other people, the smallness of the Ark only allowing so much personal space at any given heartbeat. Privacy in one’s own sleeping quarters was one thing, especially after everything fell apart and for whatever reason she was allowed to keep that too-big compartment, but workspaces are always overcrowded and alive with the feeling that one is about to be trampled.

But they are no longer in a tin can in the sky, Abby reminds herself. They are on the ground, in a state of relative peace, allowed to spread out. And still she is not alone.

It had been, a couple weeks ago as dust was settling and she was slightly too drugged and definitely too much in pain to be any real input on the matter, a logistical decision. At this point, it does not matter who’s officially in charge, and at this point no one is entirely sure on that score anyways. For practical purposes, she’s co-running a civilization, and her partner in this made a lot of dramatic choices very quickly, as he is prone to. The difference in this, the difference between the man he was and the man he has become, is that this time most of Marcus’s bigger maneuvers actually work. What were once faults in him are now minor miracles, and his effectiveness as a politician mixed with a new level of not being a total dick at all possible times has made this new life easier for everyone.

Objectively, on that list of logistical decisions, appropriating and rearranging the office space had been a relatively minor call. It made an amount of sense to set up a shared workspace, somewhere both of the main power figures could reliably be found in case of emergency. The fact that the other person involved was not fully aware of how her daily life was being altered was irrelevant at the time.

Well, a month later, it is relevant now. Abby has learned to pick her battles and lately she’s been picking far less of them, but to be in a small room for hours at a time with someone she no longer understands as well as she once did is…

She could handle him, back when she was pretty sure planning her demise was the only thing that made him happy. She’s been lost without that anchor.

For the moment, at least, there is not a collaborative project going on. She could objectively decide that she could just as easily look at medical logs from other shifts somewhere else, just as he could probably pick a different place to structure how building permits are going to work and oh isn’t that a sign of intended roots. But they are both here, on opposite sides of a battered couch, close enough to touch if either were so inclined. Maybe it’s compulsion, maybe it’s just more comfortable in here in the heart of winter, maybe both.

All is well until suddenly there is a hand on her face, and for a moment she is cold and then she is fearless.

She allows the moment, allows the caution of him pushing her hair out of her eyes and behind her ear so as not to be in her way. Her braid has been steadily coming undone this morning, done too quickly and regretted after, and the inevitability of problems like this has been accepted. But the idea that someone else, let alone her partner in every way but that, would notice let alone care…

“Why?” she asks. His hand is still on her face, motionless, like she’s breakable like she isn’t like she has always been. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know what you’re like,” he replies, and he has used that phrase for so much damage over the years but right now it is a comfort. “You’re lost in your head. Someone needs to look after you.”

She wants to hate him for that comment. Go ahead, be an asshole, accuse her of being spacey or worse delicate, minimize her, good luck with that. But he’s been doing little things like this ever since the Bad Thing and he asks nothing in return. His constant observation of his surroundings includes knowing when she’s forgotten to eat for an entire day, not out of wanting to conserve resources – and she does that too, has done that too often and has the too-visible bone structure to show for it – but because she genuinely has not thought about it. She knows without having confirmed it that he is always the person who puts a blanket over her when she collapses on the couch. She remembers all too well the caretaking when she couldn’t comfortably move, worked in seamlessly with his other tasks.

The sharp edges have been stripped away, and the man that remains is almost good. What in the hell is she supposed to do with that.

“That happens all the time and you don’t-“

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

She shifts her body, leaning into the lingering touch, moving her face so her lips move against his hand. “Why.” Not a question, not yet.

Her partner may be the more perceptive one, she’ll give him that but never out loud, but Abby is not oblivious. She keeps track of lingering glances, moments like this where contact lasts too long to be proper, the early signs of quiet hope. Not yet, she wants to say. She is still too fearful of what could happen if she let go. Maybe she always will be.

But she will allow these little kindnesses, and trust that his intent will remain pure. That’s all she can give just yet. Let it be enough.

Marcus drops his hand and recoils his body, seeking safe distance. “You deserve all that you give to other people,” he murmurs. “I’m not sure I’m doing it right, but…”

“You’re trying,” she counters. “I can live with trying.”

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

“It’s been centuries since I felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”/ for undertaker/ good you are safe! Mwah!

OHOOO, THIS ONE IS SO GOOD! I hope you enjoy the result! <3

Pairing: Undertaker x Reader

Words: 1,833

Prompt: 23. “It’s been centuries since I felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

[ taglist ] [ commissions ]

He was not the only the person you did not recognize during your relative’s funeral. There was so many people, after all, close family and friends but also faces you have never seen before and he certainly was one of them. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, it was impossible to not notice how he simply could not fit in the crowd, no matter that he was also dressed all in black, slightly bent over the freshly digged grave, mourning and silent.

Completely alone.

Perhaps it was his long, snow white hair or the unnaturally pale skin or maybe the scar crossing his handsome face—all those elements creating a picture perfect to catch your attention and cause you to think about it hours after the ceremony ended, giving you sleepless night. The stranger, whoever he was, seemed to be a ghost, now haunting your memory and making you wonder, who could that be? The longer you thought about it, the more uncertain you grew, sometimes wondering whether you truly saw him there or if he was just a passing shadow of the past, caught in the corner of your eye.

The fate, however, decided to end your misery in a way you would last expect it to—by giving you exactly what you wanted. Meeting the same, mysterious man in the middle of the city was something you would rather witness only in the films, the ones people considered as unrealistic and having plots which had no right to happen in the real world. Still, there was no mistake, it was him with the same eccentric appearance and the only difference being that now, he smiled when he clearly recognized you.

“It’s not the most common way to meet new people, I have to admit,” he chuckled after placing the cup of cappuccino back on the small plate and looked back at you. “If I only knew that my friend had such an adorable relatives, perhaps I would actually attend those family gatherings.”

“I can’t guarantee you that you’d meet me at any of them, I’m a rather busy person.”

“And not the life of the party, I assume?”

“Pretty much.” You shrugged. “Is it so obvious?”

“No, I’m just quite clever, if I can say so.”

The final conclusion after spending an afternoon with him in a coffee shop was that he was not only clever but also surprisingly charming. Undertaker, as he introduced himself right after giving you his real name and mentioning that he has never been fond of it, was truly like a gift from another world—he was a gentleman, well-mannered, polite and respectful, not to mention that his sense of humour seemed to fit yours just perfectly. The first wave of anxiety quickly faded away as he showed you that there is nothing to be shy about around him and even gave you an example or two on how he was not a social butterfly in his anecdotes.

The second and third meeting was surprisingly pleasant and each evening you came back home with stomach hurting from the amount of laugh, the blissful smile of your lips and the lovely tingling sensation in your heart.

On the fourth, he kissed you on the cheek as a goodbye, after walking you home to make sure that you were safe and sound, which was a very reasonable decision, since you were so lost in conversation, that you forgot about the passing time.

During the sixth, he confessed that he truly enjoyed your company and no matter the circumstances, he was glad to meet you.

On the tenth, Undertaker was showering you with heated kisses, the hunger on his tongue and the trembling in the fingers. He told you then, that he fell in love with you and he really did—he loved you just as much, as he always promised you to and there was never a hint of lie in his words, not when he was confessing his undying affection, nor swearing to spend the afterlife with you. Naturally, it could be an exaggeration, for he was always a little bit unpredictable with his love language, but in the end, you found out that everything he has ever said to you, was plain truth.

You would be the one worth considering a liar if you said that it did not flatter you. His feelings for you, how devoted he grew, how much he cared was the greatest compliment you could receive and a very clear signal that you deserved such a chivalrous man. It was a significant boost to your confidence, especially when you were walking together, arms locked and the conversations going so swiftly, as if he was created to be with you—the perfect, second half of one soul.

Soon, you started to wonder what could possibly go wrong, for the image seemed to be too perfect to be real.

Perhaps he was hiding some dangerous past, had debts or wife and children. Or maybe was he some kind of stalker who knew who you are long before you met. The possibilities were endless and when you asked him about some of your doubts, Undertaker not only explained why were they wrong but also gave you reliable proofs.

It was like a dream, the twisted one, where you were constantly waiting for something bad to happen but everyone around you kept dancing, blind and deaf for your intuition. You loved him equally fiercely as he did love you and that was the main reason why the possibility of some incident or secret slipping was running your blood cold. When it eventually did, you were beyond shocked to find out that no such thing ever appeared on your list, nor occurred in your mind.

Undertaker had to support his weight on the nearby wall, the other hand pressed firmly to his temple where the dark blood was gushing through his fingers and staining the collar of the dress-shirt. The wound you gave to him was not too deep, the place on his head and the amount of blood caused it to look like that, and at first you held your breath wondering if you accidentally killed him. The brass lamp suddenly grew heavier in your hands, the fingers painfully stiff when you were holding onto your temporary weapon as if your life depended on it.

And maybe it truly did.

“Stay back,” you ordered, your tone not sounding even half as confidently as you wanted. “Don’t come any closer.”

Undertaker looked at you from under his long, white eyelashes, the sight of his vivid green eyes causing the shivers to run down your spine. Still, you stood your ground, afraid to even blink just in case he would decide to jump on you and snap your neck.

“What’s the matter, poppet?” he muttered, slowly straightening his back and wiping the blood off his hand on the fabric of his trousers. There was a curve of the smile playing on his lips. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me barely few days ago?”

“I did and I’ve changed my mind. Now don’t move any closer.”

“Or what?” he hissed and the sudden step forward was enough to almost make you lose your balance.

Undertaker chuckled at the fear you were so desperately trying to hide beneath the mask of courage. It was slipping out from every corner, your eyes betraying the terror in your soul.

Oh, how long it has been since he has last seen it.

“Will you hit me again, my love?” He pointed at the lamp in your hands. “Don’t hesitate, just make sure to aim better next time, the single blow won’t be enough to knock me out… And actually, I doubt that you’d ever be able to do it.”

“Stay the fuck back!” you warned, growing more scared and desperate with every step he took. “If you thought that I won’t discover the truth you were dead wrong and now you expected me to pretend that nothing happened?”

“What a pitiful choice of words,” he giggled, genuinely amused. “No, I wasn’t hoping to hide it from you forever, I just wanted to wait for a while longer. You, humans, don’t handle it very well and you’re no exception.”

“What are you talking about?” Salty droplet of sweat rolled down your forehead and you fought the urge to wipe it off, knowing that the man in front of you could use it for his advantage. “Did you really thought that if you told me later about your little laboratory in the basement then I’d be more understanding?”

“You would.”

“Like hell I would!”

You were at the verge of crying, the frustration and panic growing inside of you with every passing second. Discovering the bloody passion of your fiancé was one thing, but facing him and fighting for your life when he tried to pull you down the stairs was something completely different. All you wanted right now, was to leave, to run as fast as you could and never see him again, just to be safe and away from him and his murderous tendencies.

Funny, suddenly you felt like in the film The Shining, except that your partner did not lose consciousness after you almost crushed his skull with the heavy lamp in an attempt to defend yourself. It was almost as if he did not feel any pain, as if the hits had no effect on him.

As if he was immortal.

Slowly, you stepped back, still eyeing him carefully, observing if he would try to stop you from leaving his house. Once again, he reminded you of a dark ghost, the freezing memory of the past, growing and expanding in the tiny living room like a plague. His beautiful, pure face was rotten inside, his mind twisted and the smile—the smile, you grew so fond of—has never been so terrifying.

Undertaker waited patiently until you could almost reach the doorknob behind your back, giving you just enough hope to see your features soften before he materialized right in front of you in a blink of an eye. Before you could react, he covered your mouth with his hand, nails digging in your cheeks, and with a swift movement threw the lamp across the room, too far for you to reach. Leaning down, he looked at you in the eyes with the same, loving gaze you remembered and your noses almost touched, the dried blood staining his cheek and neck appearing as almost black now.

“You don’t understand, my love,” he whispered and rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of your fear before continuing. “I’ve never lied to you, not even for a second. My affection for you is real, it brought me closer to being alive than I’ve ever been. It’s been centuries since I felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

[sunflowershouyou]

✮ Project Fun

genre: fluff

warnings: none

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x gn!reader

in which you're first year in university and your intent is to focus on your studies; everything is going as planned until you have to do a project with Bokuto Koutarou

word count: 2455

The lecture has already started. The professor hasn't stopped talking for fifteen minutes. Everyone were focused on him completely engrossed in the material.

You were in the first row right in front of the professor. It was your first year as a university student. It was a big deal for you, moving away, starting a new life, being independent and relying on yourself. You liked that but you knew you had to be very responsible and you decided to focus on your studies and not let yourself get carried away from your goals. This meant no parties, no more lazy afternoons and especially no boyfriends. This seemed like a perfect plan for you.

The professor's voice was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise. The door opened and everyone in the lecture hall turned their eyes on the person, causing all the chaos.

'Hey hey hey! Good morning, everyone! Good morning, professor! Sorry I'm late again.' said the guy who was constantly late for lectures.

You made a little noise out of annoyance. It was Bokuto Koutarou. You didn't really like him. Why? He was never ready for projects, never on time, always unnecessary loud and too cheerful for your taste. You could list way too many reasons of why you didn't enjoy his company. To be honest you only thought you didn't like him. Actually you wanted to be like him. Deep inside you admired him. Yes he wasn't the most responsible one but he had a way with people, which you were kinda envious of since you still hadn't made any friends. Bokuto was very confident and even if he said something wrong he didn't mind, you on the other hand had no courage to even raise your hand because you were scared of saying something that might not be right. To sum up Bokuto was everything you weren't.

'Bokuto... again? What happened this time?' asked the professor.

'I'm really sorry I stayed up late last night and couldn't wake up on time this morning.' answered the boy.

'Volleyball practice I assume?'

'Correct!'

'Okay but please try to be on time from now on.'

'Yessir!' cheerfully said Bokuto and since the only avaliable places were on the first row he sat next to you.

'Hi!' he said to you.

'Oh...hello.' you suddenly felt like it was getting hotter in the hall.

'Okay everyone I have an announcement to make.' declared the professor 'Your next task is a project and you have to work in pairs. The deadline is the last week of the semester which means you have one month. Choose your partner and tell me the groups till tomorrow. Goodbye, have a nice day!'

The professor left the hall. You started panicking as soon as he mentioned 'work in pairs'. You hated working in groups and on top of that you had no one to ask to be with you. You were deep in your thoughts when Bokuto asked:

'Hey, do you perhaps want to work with me on the project?' he smiled.

'Um...' you didn't really like the idea but you had no other option '... okay fine.'

'Cool! I'm Bokuto Koutarou by the way. Nice to meet you!'

'I'm Y/N.'

'Oh so it's Y/N! I've been wondering for some time. Your name is pretty!'

He said that so casually that it left you speechless. Your cheeks became pink and it got even hotter. Before you could even say something he asked you:

'So when are we starting with the project?'

'What about tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow!?' Bokuto was shocked. He's not the type of person who does school work immediately.

'Yes, tomorrow. Do you have a problem if we study in the library?

'Nope, not at all.'

'Okay tomorrow at 3pm in front of the library.'

'I'll be there, Y/N!'

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

Two hours had passed and Bokuto was nowhere to be seen. You ended up studying by yourself. The library was closing so you decided to head home. At that moment you saw Bokuto running to you.

'Y/N! I'm sorry I'm late! But I'm here now so let's study.'

'Okay but the library is closed.'

'Oh...I guess I was really late then.' he let out an awkward laugh.

You sighed and decided to act a little cold 'Look, I know you're not exactly that type of person but I would really appreciate it if you take this project seriously. I need to ace this subject.'

'Are you always this strict to yourself?' Bokuto was curious.

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'Well... don't you ever have fun? Like I know this is important to you but don't you go out with friends sometimes? Like... on a movie or... I don’t know?'

'I-...' you had hard time finishing you sentence 'I don't have any friends...'

'Huh?' he looked at you with his big curious eyes.

You felt embarrassed. You were ready for him to make fun of you.

'This is kinda good you know?'

'How come?'

'Because I can be your first friend!'

You were absolutely surprised and astonished by the way he talks so casually and reacts to things. Every time he said something you could feel the sincerity. You felt warm knowing there's at least one person who wanted to be your friend despite you completely isolating yourself from others.

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

It was the next day. You were on your way to the library where you were supposed to meet Bokuto for a study session. You couldn't stop thinking about what he said to you the previous day. He really was sweet but you decided to ignore any feelings and to focus only on the project.

'Hey hey hey!'

'Bokuto..?'

'Y/N! I'm on time as promised! Am I the best partner you've ever had or what?' he was so cheerful almost childlike and you couldn't help but chuckle a little.

'How did you manage to come on time?' you asked.

'Well... this is very important to you, right? So since we are friends it means that it is important to me as well.' Bokuto explained.

Again... this sincerity. Everything he's said to you made you genuinely happy.

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

Two weeks have passed since you and Bokuto started working on the project. You were having lunch at the cafeteria when you got a message from your new friend.

B: [Hey, Y/N! I have an important match soon and I have to stay at practice a bit longer.]

Y/N: [When will you be ready? You know the library closes at 5pm.]

B: [Do you mind coming to the gym? We can study here. I have the keys.You can watch the practice if you want to... ']

Y/N: [Okay, I'll be there when I'm ready.]

Your last lecture for the day was over and you went straight to the gym. There was no chance for you to not find it since the boys shouting and volleyballs bouncing left and right could be heard from miles away.

You opened the door and the sight of Bokuto jumping and spiking the ball as hard as he could breaking the blocks was right in front of your eyes. You realised that you knew nothing about Bokuto. The only Bokuto you knew was the one from lectures. Besides that you had no idea what is he like.

'Y/N you came! You really wanted to see me play, huh?' Bokuto said.

'Uhm... I just... I was curious.'

The boy left you alone since the coach scolded him for talking to you. You planned on studying while your project partner was playing but you found it hard to not look at Bokuto. You were amazed by his skills, especially when someone referred to him as ace. You had no idea he was the ace of the team. You felt guilty for misjudging Bokuto. You had no right to do that considering the fact that you knew almost nothing about him. He was actually very responsible, reliable, dedicated, hard-working and never gived up on anything.

The practice was finally over and both of you and Bokuto realised that you've been watching him the whole time.

'Y/N if you want to see me more on court come to our match!' he suggested.

You blushed. Why did you felt embarrassed by this question? Your eyes met and you couldn't say anything. You were standing right in front of him keeping an eye contact and wondering why couldn't you answer him. Then you felt something. It was like electricity going through your whole body. Everything made you blush even more and your whole face was burning.

'I'll take that as a Yes!' said Bokuto and left to change his clothes.

Your study session went well but why did you keep feeling weird? Why was it so hard for you to stay calm and focus? You were wondering the whole time and Bokuto sensed that there was something else on your mind.

'Y/N?' Bokuto cupped your cheeks and felt the heat from your skin 'You're burning! Are you okay?'

This single movement startled you and you panicked.

'Y-yes I'm fine don't worry, Bokuto! Let's stu-'

And before you could finish your sentence he pressed his lips on your forehead.

'Bokuto! What what are you doing?' You felt as if everything was out of control. What were you supposed to do in this situation?

'Just checking if you have temperature. My mother does it every time when I'm sick.'

How was he so calm you wondered. He basically kissed you on the forehead and acted like nothing has happened.

'Hmmm but I don't feel anything... why are you so hot then?'

You looked at him eyes wide open and still couldn't comprehend what just happened.

-----------

Days have passed and you felt weirder and weirder around Bokuto. You had a lot of fun on your study dates but every time you saw him or heard his voice it had an effect on you. Every day as soon as you woke up you couldn't wait to study with Bokuto. You always looked around hoping you would see him in the hallways. You were constantly checking your phone in case he sent you a message. Why were you acting that way? This was so not you. Everything cleared when you caught yourself daydreaming during lecture. It wasn't a regular daydream. You were thinking about Bokuto, his voice, his laugh, his silly jokes and that particular kiss. Then it hit you.

You liked Bokuto Koutarou.

With every day passing by you found it harder to concentrate especially when both of you were working on the project. Good thing is that you finished it on time. The week before the due date you barely saw Bokuto. The reason was that he spent every minute in the gym spiking, receiving and serving. His important match was on the day when you were supposed to present your work in front of the auditorium. Bokuto reassured you that the match would be before lunchtime so both of you would have enough time to go to the campus and do the presentation. Everything was going just as planned when you received a call from Bokuto.

'Hi, Bokuto! I'm almost ready you haven't started yet right?'

'No, we haven't. But... Y/N...'

'Hmm?'

'They've changed the schedule and our match is going to be exactly when we are supposed to do the presentation.'

'Oh... is there anything we can do?'

'Well I talked to the coach and some of the staff but nothing can be done... I'm sorry Y/N I really tried.'

'I know, don't worry.'

Both of you became silent.

'You know what... I'm going to campus and I'll talk to the professor.'

'Good idea, Y/N!'

'Don't worry and focus on your match, okay?'

You hung up and got on the bus.

It was time for Bokuto’s match. You haven't called since your conversation in the morning and you were nowhere to be seen. Bokuto started worrying. He thought that you decided to present by yourself. This made him a bit sad but he knew how important university is to you and he just hoped that you would do great.

Ten minutes since the start of the match and Bokuto was about to serve. His hands were sweaty and the nervousness got to him. He looked at the crowd hoping you would be there. And you were. You were waving at him and shouted:

'GO ACE!'

This was it. This was all he needed to stop all the negative thoughts in his head.

The match was over and as soon as the teams greeted each other Bokuto went straight to you and hugged you tight. The two of you were equally surprised by that.

'So you managed to come! When did the professor let us present then?' Bokuto asked.

'Actually... he didn't.' you smiled.

'What? Why? Then what are you doing here?' Bokuto was worried.

'I just really wanted to see you play.'

'What about the subject then?'

'Well... we both failed.'

'Y/N...why didn't you present?'

'And leave my partner? Never! Besides there will be another chances.'

Bokuto tilted his head a little. He was very confused and worried about you.

'Y/N how are you so calm? This was important to you.'

'Well yes but the match is important to you and since we are friends this means it's also important to me!'

Bokuto couldn't believe your words.

'Woah... you've really changed Y/N...'

'Thanks to you!' you giggled.

'Failing classes? I must be a bad influence then.' he said while scratching the back of his head.

'You actually taught me to have fun. You know... you always say to not choose what's easy but what's fun... so...'

'So...?'

'I've had the most fun with you, Bokuto. Therefore I choose you!'

Both of you blushed and couldn’t look at each other for a moment.

'Um... Bokuto?'

'Y-yes!' he looked at you.

'What I really meant to say is that... I like you, Bokuto.'

As soon as you confessed you closed your eyes out of embarrassment. Where did you get the courage to say those stuff? You again started panicking and just when you were thinking of running away you felt Bokuto’s soft lips on your cheek. You froze yet your whole body was burning.

'Not fair, Y/N... I wanted to say it first!'

'Huh?'

'I like you, Y/N.'

He kissed you again but this time on the lips and then hugged you tight.

'Now let's go and celebrate your win and our failure.' you suggested.

'You know... this is actually good.'

'Us failing? Why?'

'Because this means we can spend more time studying together!'

At that exact moment you realised that being in a university can be  more pleasant and interesting experience when you allow yourself to have fun.

Thank you for reading!

- sunflowershouyou 🌻

[20.09.2020]

[peralta-guaranteed]

Can you hear me, S.O.S., help me put my mind to rest

“Sorry they made you come out for something so stupid.” He mumbles, finally, in the elevator up to his apartment. “It’s not stupid.” “It’s 1am on a sunday, I’m pretty sure you had better things to do than pick up a beat-up co-worker and buy him his drugs.” He shoots her a quick glance as they get out on his floor. “I’m gonna pay you back for those, of course.” She doesn’t even acknowledge it, because they both know he can’t afford it. “It’s actually 12:30, and my partner needed my help. So there’s definitely nothing better to do with my time.”

---*---

Amy is Jake’s emergency contact on his medical file, which makes sense if you think about them as the lovey-dovey couple that they are now. She has been his emergency contact since two months after he’d met her, which makes less sense, until you realise that she is reliable, comforting, supportive Amy, and he is Jake, and he has never not been yearning for her attention just a little bit.

read it on AO3

 “Jesus Christ, Jake. I know you’re bad at paperwork, but this is a horror show.”

 Amy rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands, trying to stare down the little stars that appear in her vision from doing so. Jake, across the room on his worn-down couch, eating something very sweet and very crumbly - a cannoli, maybe? it was gone too fast for Amy to recognise - simply shrugs.

 “You don’t have to do it, Ames, you know that.”

 She does. She knows. She offered, after all.

 Maybe it was too early for something like this, anyway. They’d been officially together for barely a month, a stage where most other couples would still be discovering each other’s little likes and dislikes and trying to hide some imperfections from the other. Definitely not the stage of going through their partner’s chaotic mountain of very personal paperwork and files. Yet here she is, sorting through insurances (the rare few that Jake actually has, mostly because he’s legally required to), licenses, bills and Academy certificates.

 It was a mess that had Amy’s fingers itching every time she saw it, she reasons, and nothing they’d done in their month together really fit the usual trajectory of a relationship anyway, based on the fact that they already knew each other like the back of their hands. So when Jake had groaned about another forgotten bill from the mail tub that Amy forced him to steadily work through every time she came over, she’d offered to get things straightened out for him once and for all.

 She’s not sure if she regrets it now. Thumbing through a pile of loose papers that turn out to be several medical records from his injuries as a rookie cop, she realises that maybe this is a bit too personal, a step too close for what they have so far. Would she be willing to share this kind of information with a boyfriend of four weeks? she wonders as she skims over a page detailing the frankly insane amount of medication he was supposed to take after another week-long stay at the hospital. She’s quite sure he took barely half of it, gritting his teeth and moaning about stupid doctors instead, even though she didn’t know him back then - she knows him too well now not to immediately picture a slightly younger Jake with a list of weird-sounding pills he couldn’t pronounce and a giant frown on his face at the pharmacy.

 “I don’t have to- I mean, I can stop. If you don’t want me to do this.”

 Jake, finished with whatever he was eating, leans back on the couch to face her at the tiny table in his kitchenette. He gives her the patented Peralta-grin, the sweetness only heightened by some leftover cream-filling (definitely a cannoli) on his right cheek. She has half a mind to get up and lick it off, but she’s blocked in by paper piles all around her.

 “And keep Amy Santiago from a chance to file paperwork? Pretty sure that’d be grounds for a break-up. I’m surprised you haven’t run out to buy me a filing cabinet filled with all sorts of folders and tabs and whatnot.”

 She lets her eyes drop back down to the papers in her hands, trying hard not to show him the blush creeping onto her face. She had been making a mental list of what binders she should buy to really get this in order.

 “I’m just saying, if you don’t want me to see some of this- it’s very private information-”

 “Babe.” He still grins, and Amy thinks about how that pet name has settled between them far too quickly and far too comfortably as well. “Pretty sure nothing in that mountain of papers is any more embarrassing than all the stuff you already know and tease me about all the time.”

 “True. It’s not like I’m going to find out here why you think using the same soap for your dishes and your shower routine sometimes is an okay thing to do.” She grins back before filing away another old medical record, suddenly getting stuck on one little line at the top of it. “Jake, please tell me Stevie Schillens is      not     still your emergency contact.”

 “What? No. Of course he isn't. They make you update your info with every promotion at work.” That alone tells her that if ‘they’ didn’t, Jake would definitely still have a co-worker from his starting days on his files rather than, say, his current sergeant or a close friend. She shuffles through a few papers to find a more recent record.

 “Who is it, then? Might be good to update again and reconsider, promotion or not. Your mom is like half an hour’s drive away if anything happened, Terry can’t really get away from his family if it’s after hours. I wouldn’t trust Charles not to break down worse than you if he ever gets a call, and Rosa- I guess she’s responsible enough, but she might hurt you more for giving out her phone number-”

 “Really, Ames?” His voice is so soft from the couch, and when she finally looks up again, his face has that strange tilt to it, between affectionate and amused. As if she’d just said the most ridiculous, yet adorable thing in the universe. As if the answer wasn’t completely obvious.

 She looks down again at the paper she picked up, a medical report from a while ago, and as she reads the little line on top, she remembers.

-*-

 “Amy Santiago?”

 “This is she.”

 The voice down the line is as foreign as the number on her cell had been when she picked it up. She didn’t get many calls on her private phone anyway, apart from her family, and they were not the kind of people who’d call her at midnight on a saturday.

 “This is NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital. We’re calling on behalf of Jake Peralta? You’re listed as his emergency contact, but there is no additional info on your status-”

 She’s up off the couch and into her bedroom to change into jeans before the nurse on the line can even finish.

 “I’m his partner. Work. Partner. We’re detectives. NYPD.” Amy almost barks down the line while wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear to pull down her sweatpants. Jake would obviously carry his badge even when he wasn’t on duty like tonight, but maybe they hadn’t found it, maybe he hadn’t been able to give them that info... and while it was slightly upsetting to think about, she knew that the hospital would give fast-tracks and special treatments to active cops, and if that was something that could help him now, the morality of it all didn’t matter one bit to her. “What’s happened? Is he- is Jake okay?”

Obviously he’s not, you idiot, he’s in the hospital and not present enough to give them any information so they have to call his emergency contact, that is the furthest from okay that he could be-  

 Her inner scolding is interrupted by the very calm, very soothing voice of the nurse.

 “He should be fine. He was brought in ten minutes ago. Somebody assaulted him, but a nearby officer intervened and called for an ambulance. We just needed to check because his files are very… incomplete.” Amy hears the rustling of paper and the slight distaste tinging the nurse’s voice and makes a mental note to sit down with Jake and make him update all his information as soon as possible. “And he’s not clear enough to answer any questions due to the painkillers. Are you aware of any allergies or problems that could arise from medications? He doesn’t need surgery, but we have to treat some lacerations and other wounds.”

 “He’s not on any permanent medications. He had to take Vicodin and Heparin after a surgery four months ago.” She replies immediately and without a doubt, remembering her last trip to the hospital with him while she slips into a jacket and checks her bag for her purse and car keys. “Oh, he has asthma, but hasn’t had an attack in years, so he doesn’t use his inhaler regularly or anything. And he’s allergic to bees, but I don’t think that matters?”

 “No.” the nurse almost chuckles. “But the rest is very helpful to know, thanks. Will you be able to arrange for someone to monitor him for the next 24 hours? Otherwise we’ll need to prepare a room for him. He keeps saying you’ll pick him up, but we weren’t sure-”    “I’m on my way.”

-*-

 She speed-walks to the front desk of the emergency room not ten minutes later.

 “Hello. My name is Amy Santiago. I’m here for Jake Peralta - he was brought in twenty minutes ago?”

 “Ah! The lovely lady detective.” The nurse - it’s a different one from the phone call, she can tell from the voice - gives her a weird sort of smile. “Yes, he’s been asking for you non-stop. But the painkillers should have worn off by now, so he might be more coherent.”

 She tries to ignore that comment, she really does. But it’s not easy.

 “The doctor’s going over aftercare with him, so he might be a few more minutes. You can take a seat if you’d like.”

 Amy glances over to the waiting area, full of people even at this time of night, before turning back to the desk. “Uhm, the nurse on the phone said he needs to be monitored for 24 hours - do you know why? Is there anything I need to be aware of?”

 The lady gives her a once-over before another strange smile, like she knows more than Amy does (which, logically, in this situation she does, but it feels like she knows something else, too).

 “He’s had a minor concussion. Nothing to worry about, but he might be a bit disoriented or woozy, so it’s best not to leave him alone. And if he throws up or feels faint, you should bring him back immediately. He has a check-up appointment to remove his stitches in three days. Everything else you need to know will be on his report.”

 “Sure.” Amy nods, and hopes that Jake doesn’t lose track of that report on his way from the examination room to the waiting area - it wouldn’t be the first time he manages to lose paperwork in record time. She gives the still smiling nurse another nod before finally heading to sit down and pull out the crossword puzzle she was halfway done with when she got the call.

 “Hey.”

 “Oh! Hey!” Amy practically drops her puzzle and jumps from her seat in the waiting room once she sees him standing in front of her.

 Jake looks a mess. His leather jacket is ripped on one shoulder seam, and his jeans are covered in grime. There’s an awful lot of blood on his hoodie - probably from his nose, which is covered in a bandage - and his face is more red-bruised than pale in most places. There’s another, bigger bandage over a stitched-up gash across his left cheekbone, the accompanying eye blood-shot, and his lip is split in at least two places.

 “You look like hell.” She blurts out before thinking and immediately scolds herself, but it actually earns her a little laugh.

 “You’re looking lovely as well, Santiago.” His eyes wander over her messy ‘I had to get here in under ten minutes on a saturday couch night’ look, including a steadily unraveling hair-bun and oversized sweater.

 “Sorry, I mean-”

 “S’alright.” He drops into the seat next to her and winces. More bruises, Amy thinks.

 “What happened?” She sits back down as he leans forward, only now noting the clipboard and pen in his hands (which are equally roughed up, knuckles worn down, with scabs already forming. Whatever had happened, he sure hadn’t given in easily).

 “Some big-shot guy whose dealer I arrested last week spotted me coming out of a bar. Decided the best way to deal with his crippling drug addiction was to beat the shit out of the cop who’d cut off his supply. He was, like, a giant of a dude.” Jake puffs up his chest and raises his arms to show the supposed size of the man, and Amy can only nod. “Luckily he was too stupid to check for surveillance on the very public street we were on, and there was a beat cop on the corner who cuffed him pretty quickly.” He looks down again at the clipboard, and tries to scratch his nose before remembering there’s a bandage in the way. “He also called an ambulance, which I think was a bit over the top, but I couldn’t really breathe to tell him no.”

 Amy gives him a quizzical look, and he sighs before explaining.

 “Fucker punched me in the chest so hard I had an asthma attack.”

 She snorts. She doesn’t want to, but it’s not really something you can stop, even as she clutches her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

 “I’m sorry, Jake, I shouldn’t- it’s not funny-”

 “Well.” He grins at her, far softer than usual, but that might just be to not upset his split lip. “It is a little bit funny, I guess.”

 “Do you have an inhaler at work? You should take one with you, you know, even if you haven’t had problems for a while, you never know when they show up again, case in point, and people might not know what to do - maybe I should get an inhaler too, for when we’re working together, and make sure Charles knows how-”

 “Hey.” He interrupts her verbal stream of consciousness by holding the clipboard up to her, and she grabs it reflexively the same way she does when he sneakily slips her his unfinished paperwork. “Can you help me fill out these stupid forms? I think I’m still a bit high from whatever they gave me back there, or maybe I just don’t know half of these words anyway.”

 She grabs the pen from him as well, clicks it twice, and gets to work. She doesn’t even have to ask him about most of the fields he’s left blank, and after a minute or two, the file is full with both his chicken scratch and her perfect handwriting. She’s filled out so many of these forms for him before, she could probably do it in her sleep. Which would be quite a worrying thought if it wasn’t so weirdly sweet at the same time - she realises that he has never, not once, asked anyone else for a ride to the hospital for work injuries, at least when he had the choice (and luckily, he was barely ever so hurt that he couldn’t, that any one of them had to jump into the back of the ambulance with him, but most of those times it was her as well).

 “Here.” She hands the file back to him. “Get that to the nurses, and we can go back to your place so you can catch up on sleep. Do you have your medical report?”

 He nods and swaps it for the clipboard in her hand in a well-set routine they both know, getting up to hand it in while she does a quick read through. There are not that many after-care instructions - the usual things for concussions she’s aware of, a healing balm for the bruising, replacing the bandages regularly, and another truckload of painkillers and medicine. The doctors sure do seem to love pumping him full with it whenever they get a chance, and he sure does love to ignore them and not take any of it. She still makes a mental note to swing by the pharmacy on their way home to pick it all up when he gets back and gestures for her to leave.

 He does a dramatic turn and bow to say good-bye to the front desk as they pass it, earning himself a giggle from the ladies and swaying only a little after he gets back up. Amy has her hands around his elbow immediately, steadying him and leading him outside - they did say he would be woozy - and the nurse gives her another one of those smiles. She’s still not quite sure if she likes them or not.

-*-

 They stop at the late-night-pharmacy as planned - Jake obeys orders to stay in the car to make it all quicker, but insists on getting a bag of sour gummies as a reward, and Amy sighs as he tears into it right away, probably covering her whole passenger seat with the powder - but the rest of the drive stays quiet. It feels more concerning to Amy than it should. He’s a blabbermouth at the best of times, should be even more so after being loaded up with painkillers and coming down from the adrenaline high of a fight, asthma attack and hospital treatment all at once. But right now he seems utterly silenced, fidgety and... nervous.

 “Sorry they made you come out for something so stupid.” He mumbles, finally, in the elevator up to his apartment.

 “It’s not stupid.”

 “It’s 1am on a sunday, I’m pretty sure you had better things to do than pick up a beat-up co-worker and buy him his drugs.” He shoots her a quick glance as they get out on his floor. “I’m gonna pay you back for those, of course.” She doesn’t even acknowledge it, because they both know he can’t afford it.

 “It’s actually 12:30, and my partner needed my help. So there’s definitely nothing better to do with my time.”

 He mumbles something else as they step through the door, but she doesn’t catch it. She helps him slip out of his jacket instead, reminds herself to google a good tailor that works with leather as she notices the ripped shoulder while hanging it up and turns around to look at the blood-stained hoodie he’s taking off.

 “I don’t think that thing is salvageable.”

 “Damn, and it was one of my favourites, too.” He pouts, playfully, before remembering his injured lip.

 “All your hoodies are your favourite.”

 “Am I not allowed to love them all equally?”

 Amy is already in his kitchen not answering that, instead bundling the hoodie up and into a trash bag she’s pulled from a shelf. She’ll take it down to the dumpster with her when she leaves tomorrow, or else he might try and wash it.

 “You don’t have to do all this, you know.” Jake says as she walks past him to put the bag on the front mat. “I can take care of my clothes.”

 “Sorry.” She halts and takes off her own jacket and shoes, instead. It’s a strange situation - they’re both used to Jake being a lot more inhibited from medication or alcohol when she literally has to bring him home, usually hanging onto Amy’s shoulders and babbling nonsense while she shuffles him into bed. But now he’s standing up all on his own, silent again, looking around the place as if he doesn’t know what to do in his own home with Amy as a not-quite-guest. Neither does she.

 Another beat of silence passes between them before Jake clears his throat and bumbles on.

 “You should- ...do you want something to drink? I think I still have some of that herbal stuff you brought-”

 “You should-” Amy starts at almost the same time, silencing them both again for another beat. “You should change out of these” she gestures to his dirty clothes “and put the balm on your bruises and get ready for bed. You’re gonna crash from the adrenaline soon.”

 It seems like he wants to say something else, but the silence is deafening by now, so he only nods and grabs stuff out of the pharmacy bag before heading to the bathroom.

 “I’m gonna grab a spare shirt for me to sleep in, if that’s okay?” She calls after him and only hears ‘Sure!’ before the door closes.

 Amy realises, as she turns around for the dresser in the one room apartment he inherited from Gina a while ago, that she’s never been here before without some medical emergency clouding her vision. She knew his old place - from a few late evenings working on case files (which he illegally took home, but neither of them mentioned that), and a movie marathon when he was extremely sick and had begged her over on her day off because he was convinced he was ‘going to die any minute’ and didn’t want the neighbours to find his ‘decomposing corpse later in the week’ - and he’d been over at hers far more times than she could count (her place was nicer, she had actual cable tv,, and a working kitchen for him to rustle around in for random late night snacks).

 But this apartment? It seems strangely foreign now, without a drunk or medicated Jake needing her help, without the usual distraction of getting him into bed, getting his shoes and jacket off, forcing him awake to take some aspirin and then settling down on the couch to his snoring. She feels like a guest instead, someone who doesn’t know if they’re allowed to sit down or get a drink from the kitchen without being invited. That’s nonsense, she thinks - she’s here to help like always, and there’s no way Jake would care if she turned his entire kitchen upside down and re-organised it or fell asleep on the couch right then and there.

 Loud grumbling and ranting from the bathroom pulls her out of her thoughts, before she can even decide to pick up the spare bedding set for the couch she knows he keeps in his closet.

 “Everything alright?” She knocks on the door, but barely waits for the angry ‘No!’ before opening it. Her breath catches.

 Jake’s in his pajama pants, and - that’s it. She can see the muscles in his bare back flex as well as the reflection of his front in the mirror, as he tries to bend around in some convoluted way to reach the large, purple bruise that travels from his waist to his back.

 “Stupid doctors and their stupid lotions and stupid ideas for people who can’t do yoga or some shit to reach their own back-” he mumbles, but Amy doesn’t hear much of it. She’s seen Jake shirtless before - you don’t go on stake-outs or undercover assignments without catching each other in different states of undress at some point - and every time has been a secret memory, quickly stolen and hidden somewhere deep in her mind, to be dusted off and remembered at the most inopportune times or when she feels particularly alone after a drink (or maybe four). This time will probably be no different, she thinks as she notes the soft trail of hair under his belly button, down to the sweatpants that definitely sit lower than any jeans she’s seen him shirtless in before.

 She has to act, she reprimands herself, before he notices, before he sees her staring or realises she’s blushing, so she steps up to the sink and pulls the tub of healing balm from his hands.

 “It’s not the doctors’ fault you always get injured in inconvenient places.” She answers his rant while dipping her fingers into the lotion and carefully applying it to the bruise, trying not to rub or press too hard for it to hurt.

 Jake doesn’t breathe the entire time her fingers are on his skin.

 “There you go.” Amy closes the little tub and puts it next to the sink, eyeing his bruised face and completely ignoring the flush that is hiding underneath it. “Lemme change your bandages before you sleep, too. You already got them dirty.”

 “I can do that-”

 “You’re going to rip it straight off and disturb your stitches, most likely.” Her hands are already at the corner of his cheek, carefully prying off the tape and strips, and he forgets how to breathe again.

 She replaces the bandages just as carefully and leaves him to the rest of his night time routine, filling a glass of water in the kitchenette and coming back with a packet of Vicodin at the same moment he steps out of the bathroom, finally pulling a shirt over his head.

 “You should take some painkillers before you sleep. It’ll help.”

 “Oh goodie.” He quips and eyes the water. “Drugs! Because the injuries totally weren’t caused because of somebody off their drugs!”

 “These are prescription drugs. It’s different. You know that.”

 He still stares warily at the package in her hand, but another shuffle forward from her and he grabs them and pops one into his mouth, grimacing after downing it (whether that grimace is for the medicine or the water he actually has to drink, she’s not sure).

 “Good boy.” Amy jokes, and he’s glad he’s already swallowed so he can’t choke on his water from hearing that. “Now get some sleep in. I’ll be down here on the couch if you need anything, or feel worse.”

 “Don’t go-” He stutters and stares right past her head at the aforementioned couch. “I mean, you don’t- you don’t have to sleep on the couch, I know how uncomfortable it is- you can sleep with me- I mean, in the bed, with me in the bed, I mean- there’s enough space- with the extra blanket- I don’t-”

 He interrupts his own rambling with a deep sigh and a ‘Jesus, Jake’ before Amy can stifle another giggle. He feels just as awkward with her here as she does, and it almost makes the whole thing more comfortable. They’ll just have to power through the nonsense and get back to their normal friendly behaviour, she reasons.

 “If you really don’t mind. I’m gonna get the stuff from the closet.”

 He’s already bundled up under his own covers when she comes back with the heap of blanket and pillows for her side of the bed.

 It’s not her side, of course, it’s just the part of the bed he’s freed up from his own duvet, and that she’s going to sleep on now for one night, but it’s not like they have sides in their bed like-

power through the nonsense, she repeats as she settles down and stares over at him. His eyes are closed, his breath already slowing down into a sleepy pattern, and despite all the bruising and bandaging, his face looks so soft when he’s asleep. It’s a sight she could definitely get used to.

-*-

 She remembers waking up the next morning, far too early for the late night they’d had. She remembers how wonderfully warm he was, hurt face buried in her shoulder and softly breathing across his shirt that she’d borrowed. She remembers her heart racing as she tried to untangle herself from the cuddling position their sleeping bodies had found themselves in, and she remembers the soft, quiet, confused ‘Ames..?’ when he woke up a few hours later and found the bed empty, with her already sitting at the tiny kitchen table she was sitting at right now.

 Looking back at the report of the night she just remembered, the little line of her name and phone number at the top seem to glare at her, scolding her for her stupid question about emergency contact changes. She can hear Jake quietly laugh before she looks up.

 “What, did you genuinely think you weren’t my first pick for emergencies?” Jake is still smiling at her, and she realises he obviously didn’t go down that little trip down memory lane with her. Maybe he was even still at the point of their conversation where Stevie Schillens was a viable option for an emergency contact as well. “Like, even without everything else going on with us… You love filling out forms, you’re responsible enough to actually take care of an emergency situation, and you know about all my stupid medical info better than me, because you keep driving me to the hospital from work.”

 “You’re saying you made a serious decision like this based on actual logical evidence instead of one of your ‘gut feelings’?” Amy’s eyebrow raises almost involuntary. Present-Jake, maybe. Past-Jake? Definitely not.

 Present-Jake can only shrug before scratching his nose, a subtle tell that she's identified by now for when he’s embarrassed, as if he’s trying to hide his face before speaking again.

 “Might’ve also liked the idea of having you in the ER with me... instead of a freaked-out Charles or something.”

 She smiles at what sounds like only half-explained truth and decides not to push it. She knows what he means, anyway. She knows, by now, that he would always ask the nurses for her when he was being treated, would always ramble on about her when blissed out on extra-strong painkillers, about how smart she was and how much she would help him and how much he hated hospitals, but not quite so much when he knew she was outside the room waiting for him.

 “Okay, but when exactly did you put me in as your emergency contact?” She puts down the last file and maneuvers around the stacks of yet unsorted papers to get over to him and the couch.

 “Eh, ‘bout two months after we were partnered up.”

 “Two- we didn’t even like each other then!”

 “Wrong. You didn’t like me.” Another nose-scratch before Amy can sit down next to him, cradling his face in her hand and smiling again at how quickly he leans into it.

 “Aw, babe. I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

 “I mean, I didn’t like-like you then. Just for the record. I wasn’t that desperate, okay? I just thought you were... neat. And really good to have around for emergencies. Probably should’ve asked you. For all I know you would’ve stranded your annoying new partner at the hospital and pretended like you never heard of me.”

 “I would have never done that!” Amy glowers at him. “Just for the record as well. I would’ve absolutely taken care of you, even though I didn’t like you or found you super annoying.”

 “I know you’re trying to be nice right now, babe, but you’re really not doing it well.” Jake grins at her again, and she can’t help but pull him towards her to kiss that snarky grin away. It reappears as soon as her lips leave his, unfortunately, but it is decidedly less snarky and far more dopey.

 “And I did show up when they called me after that drug addict attacked you, remember? I was so worried when I got that call, because I didn’t even know I was your contact, and I thought something horrible must’ve happened that they had to call me. And then it was just a fist fight.”

 “Sorry.” He mumbles. “It was a really stupid reason to call an emergency contact. Shoulda filled my forms out better.”

 “Maybe.” She smiles as she strokes across his cheek, noting the tiny scar that is still there from the stitches he had to get. “But I’m glad they did, anyway. You would’ve tried to drive yourself home and clean your wounds with mouthwash, or something.”

 “Maybe.” He echoes with an equal smile. “You do make a better home-nurse than I would, I guess. Even though you were missing the sexy outfit.”

 He earns himself a punch to the arm for that before she goes back to playing with his hair, soothing him enough that he drops the joking facade.

 “I was really happy you showed up, by the way. And took me home. And didn’t leave.”

 “Again: I would’ve never left you or not taken care of you. We’re partners, for God’s sake. What would the Captain have said if he found out I left you home alone with a concussion after you asked me for help?”

 “Yep. Holt’s imminent disappointment. Definitely the only reason I hoped you’d stay.” His smile is crooked, but Amy only continues stroking through his hair, and it quickly turns the uncomfortable smile into a content sigh. “I was so… nervous. Because... you can probably guess that I did like-like you by then. Like, you were right here in my apartment, and I wasn’t out on painkillers, but I also wasn’t awake enough to like, entertain you or anything, and I was so worried that you were already annoyed because of the whole situation and I would do something or say something stupid, but you were still there, and then you helped me with the bandages, and the, the lotion, and I think I remember the worst invitation to my bed I’ve ever given anyone, and when I woke up I thought you’d finally left, but you were just in the kitchen, and I-” He sighs again, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his forehead against her shoulder. “I was always torn between wanting to kiss you and wanting to apologise for being so much trouble.”

 “God, we really were hopelessly lost on each other, weren’t we?” Amy chuckles, her hand now carding through the hair on his nape rather than the curls on top.

 “I was definitely hopeless, in every sense of the word. I think I’d rather describe you as oblivious.”

 “Ooooh, good word!” She happily praises him, before realising just how sad that statement of his actually was. He lifts his head again to look at her. “I... actually, I wasn’t really oblivious at all. I’d say I was just as hopeless as you. I just hid it a bit better.”

 “But you were always there.” He smiles at her, his head sideways now, leaning against the back of the couch, and it’s so soft and comforting and homely she wants to sink into him. “For every hospital trip I needed. Maybe that’s kinda why I made you my emergency contact too. I knew you’d come no matter what, and I knew you wouldn’t leave. Whether I annoyed you like crazy or we barely knew each other or we were already good friends or we were not quite on speaking terms due to all the awkwardness.”

 She leans her head next to him, her hands wrapping around his folded in his lap.

 “I’ve got your back. Always.” She whispers, and it’s a lot more than the supportive, yet simple promise of work partners. She thinks of the many times people had left him, the many things he’d been through alone, the lonely walks to an empty house or quiet cab rides back to a dark apartment, the dinner’s in the microwave notes and the sorry, can’t tonight texts, and the few times she has actually left him alone too, not knowing yet that when he was running off scared, what he really needed was someone to run after him and tell him it’s okay.

 Their relationship is only a month old, officially, but she knows that it’s far older than that. She knows that it’s been growing and changing for years, and she knows, in that moment, that it will grow for many, many years to come. For forever, maybe, if they’re lucky. But no matter what it will change into in the future - she also knows, without a doubt in her heart, that she’ll be there. The way he knows she would, the way he’s known since two months after they met.

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 1

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

 It’s amazing how one outside source could influence an entire planet and change it’s view. Okay, maybe the ‘entire planet’ might be an exaggerated size. But, big key players were involved with the overall growth. So, it felt as if the world shifted when the time wielding child left to race among the stars once more.

 Mustache Girl, discovered to be named Mu when the dust settled, had seemingly disappeared. Her usual hideout had been cleared out. With no signs of her remaining there or found to be anywhere else on Mafia Island. There was a theory that Mu had hopped onto one of the many shipment boats and had left said island as soon as she could. If that was true, it would be nearly impossible to find her. No one could fully tell if this was a good or bad thing.

 The Mafia boss had officially retired when he couldn’t find a new body to use. Apparently the price      was    too high to pay for someone to give up their own. Losing that intimidating edge and just being gross, he announced his leave and traveled to the nearby mainland. There he found his new calling: being the store manager to a small fish market operation. Apparently, no one wanted to argue about prices against a goo of a human being that survived in a jar. Between the harsh words and rather disturbing appearance, people lost their argumentative spark quickly.

 The rest of the Mafia scrambled to figure out what to do with themselves. It took a lot of soul searching and late night conversations for a solution to be found. They reached the conclusion that they all worked better when they’re told what to do and decided to turn the island town into a high end luxury resort. Cooking Cat had taken the chief helm and taught a large team of Mafia members how to be proper cooks. It would be bad if a customer complained about food poisoning.

 Subcon Forest, while still downright terrifying and with Vanessa a heavy threat over the citizens, had seen the number of lost souls consumed by that place dropped. The Snatcher had apparently changed stance on determining which souls were meant to be taken. Namely those who were weighed down by a lot of sins. If asked, he would claim it was due to those being more filing when eaten. No one had the needed bravery to really question the twisted spirit’s reasoning. So, more living beings started leaving the woods. Confused, with their souls still in place, and all at the cost of a high-five.

 But the biggest change came from Dead Bird Studio. If one was interested in movies (which was a good majority of the planet) they knew of the rivalry that ran that place. Or      did     run that place. The Conductor and DJ Grooves announced, shortly after Hat Kid’s departure, that their feud was over. More or less. Everyone knew that years of animosity couldn’t be solved or swept under the rug, to be forgotten about overnight.

 So, it was an difficult uphill battle to learn what it meant to actually work together peacefully. Between Conductor’s anger and Grooves’ rather smug attitude, it was a hard progress. Both directors used a lot of late nights to find even ground. After a few months, they had reached a level of comradery that couldn’t really be qualified as ‘being friends’. Business partners was probably the best title.

 Which was still an achievement to marvel at, if Grooves was completely honest. But the worry of getting into a shouting match with Amos was now at the bottom of Dominic’s list.

 When the studio had been open for the first few months, they gained the title as the ‘studio with the hot headed director’. Dominic seeing first hand how deranged the other could become. The penguin could chalk it up to first time jitters. After all, opening up a business in the same building with someone you deemed as a rival was not the most calming experience. Add on top of that the tense world of film making and Grooves was surprised he didn’t eventually turn to biting off a few heads when things went wrong. But as Amos’ anger seemed to grow, Grooves began to worry that the director was going to have a heart attack from his numerous outbursts.

 What he was not expected was for the owl to suddenly have his ears erupt into      flames    . The only thing that pulled Dominic from his shocked state of mind when the sprinklers suddenly activated. All in attendance having to evacuate until the place was dried out.

 Unable to ask Amos directly (and already knowing the director wouldn’t have answered his questions anyway) Dominic had gone to the Express Owls for answers. He had been told that their director suddenly creating flames was something normal to see. Amos even had occasions where he would actually have smoke rising off of him. The penguin asked how this was even possible. As far as he knew, this was not a normal occurrence, and working with someone who could burst into flames at any time seemed a dangerous factor. Especially if it became a worry they’d lose the studio because of this. But Dominic was assured that Amos had his ability under control. That day was just a build up of bad moments that tore at the owl’s patient until it was just released.

 That didn’t mean Dominic didn’t start carrying around a small fire extinguisher whenever he had to be near Amos.

 Amos, on his part, was not a bird who opened up about anything. So, he never explained to anyone why he had this ability, with the Express Owls just accepting the idea their boss could handle himself. And, true to their word, Dominic didn’t see that many open flames coming from the angry owl. During their early years that was.

 Now, however, the worry had reached a new level of concern. Because Amos’ anger seemed to have suddenly grown. Even after the feud was put away. The control the other director had over the years seeming to have disappeared. Now the owl bursting into flames, full flames covering his body, when his mood was even. With another worry arising when he was around open flames and his anger made those grow dangerously. So much so, Dominic put his foot down on allowing open flame to be anywhere near the studio. Which annoyed Amos as now his movies lost a touch of authenticity. In turn causing the owl’s already short fuse to become shorter.

 It had become a dangerous, endless cycle. One that Dominic had to intervene before things got too out of hand. Something he was going to take care of today. Because he was afraid if he waited too long, they’d lose the studio they’d just started to work together in.

 Recording was done for the day and the studio practically empty as Dominic made his way to the Western-themed portion of the building. Asking a few lingering owls where their director was, he was directed towards Amos’ office. The partially closed door had light emitting from the cracks. Dominic gave his thanks before heading over. Raising his hand up to knock, the penguin paused hearing Amos’ daughter’s name.

 “Amelia...no, listen… Aye, ‘m aware. But you’re in no condition ta take me… I know, I know… No, flyin’ is too dangerous. Ya know know I hate those death machines and there’s no easy exit for me ta take in case of… In case I have an episode.”

  Dominic leaned against the wall, frowning. He probably shouldn’t be listening in.

 “There are no tracks that run there. Besides, the train will be in use. I can’t change that just ta better me. No- no, that’s not what I mean… People rely on the train… I don’t know who ta ask. I don’t know anyone who would want ta travel that far.”

 Amos laughed softly after a pause on his end. “Uh oh, someone sounds fussy… Aye, I'll keep ya up ta date as best I can… No, no, don’t ya fret about this. I’ll figure somethin’ out. Rest well Amelia, I’ll call tomorrow. ...Love ya too.”

 There was the clatter of something heavy hitting the table. Dominic could only assume it was the owl’s phone being dropped. Braving his chance, the penguin pushed the door open. He found Amos, bent over the writing table with a discarded cell phone next to him. The owl looked in complete shambles.

 Feathers were ruffled, randomly sticking out at odd ends. Some were even starting to turn gray. The familiar white button up had its sleeves rolled up over the elbows, the cross suspenders hanging limply from the black pants they were connected to. The similarly colored jacket was pooled at the Conductor’s feet.

 “If ya have somethin’ ta say, come in and get it out.”

 Amos’ growl broke Dominic’s stupor and the penguin closed the door behind him as he entered. “So-”

 “How much did ya hear.”

 “Enough that you know that you need to get somewhere with no reliable way to get there.” Dominic answered, pulling another chair towards the table.

 “Didn’t know ya were one for eavesdroppin’. Hopin’ ta find a usable script for yer movies?”

 “I’m going to ignore that last comment. I came to see if you were okay. Your ability is getting out of control and it’s becoming a concern. More than it’s been previously.”

 “‘M aware of that. That’s what I was tryin’ to fix.”

 “You need a ride to get there? To wherever this ‘fix’ is supposed to be.”

 “Great deductive skills.”

 Dominic let out a heavy sigh, tamping down the slowly rising anger within. “What I’m trying to say is that if you need a ride, I would like to offer my assistance.”

 Amos sat up at that, ears perked up. “...What?”

 “I will offer you a ride.”

 “Ya don’t even know where I’m goin’!”

 “It seems you’re desperate to get where you need to go. With your flares, it would be foolish for you to travel alone or in a confined place that you wouldn’t be able to leave when you needed.. So, let me help you.”

 “...Are we...alright enough with each other ta be stuck in a car? Together? For so long?”

 “How long is this journey?”

 “I need ta get ta Starlight Peak.”

 “I- That’s halfway across the planet!”

 “Ya can see why this is a bit of an issue fer me.”

 “Why do you need to get there?”

 The owl huffed, ruffling his feathers further. “I’ll explain, if ya promise you’ll take me, and ya don’t ask further questions.”

 “Those are pretty high demands.” Dominic crossed his arms.

 “This...is not somethin’ I want a lot of people to know about.”

 Dominic wasn’t ready for that answer. For as long as he’d known Amos, the owl has never been one to share any personal information. It took Dominic almost 8 years to learn he had a daughter and a few more months to know about his grandchildren. Which was really the only thing Dominic knew. Amos was short tempered but closed-lipped. Loud but private.

 So, seeing him here, quiet and withdrawn, ears folded and arms crossed…

 Dominic didn’t like it.

 “I will take you and I will not share with anyone what you’re about to tell me.”

 “And…”

 “And I will not ask further questions.”

 Taking that as an adequate answer, Amos sat up and faced Dominic properly. “I have this… ‘condition’ where I have this… I have fire burning in me.”

 “Ah...I wasn’t ready for that. Wait, like an actual fire?”

 “Aye, where did ya think my fire came from?”

 “To be honest, I’m not really sure. Now that I know however, it kind of makes sense.”

 “Well, that fire is burnin’ brighter everyday. More than what I can contain and control. There’s something at the peak that will help tamper that fire back down.”

 “Tamper the fire down? What does that-”

 “Ah, ya said ya wouldn’t ask questions!”

 “Alright! Alright…” Dominic raised his hands in defense as Amos glared him down. As the owl sat back down, Dominic felt himself relax. “It’ll take us at least a week to get there and back.”

 “Aye, ‘m aware.”

 “We’ll need to shut down the studio for that long.”

 “Ya worried about fallin’ behind on filming.”

 “You wish. I’m more worried about the paparazzi. If they get wind of this, they’ll have a field day wondering where we’re going.”

 Amos groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Peck, I forgot about that. Do ya think we could slip out without the peckin’ buzzards findin’ out?”

 “You’re joking, right? The first day we don’t open, they’ll be hunting us down. If not the day before we depart. Speaking of, when do we need to leave? I’m assuming the sooner the better.”

 “That would be ideal. But I do have a few things ta take care of before we do.”

 “How about the day after tomorrow?”

 Amos nodded to that suggestion. “Sounds like our best idea.”

 “Best get to packing then.”

 “Aye...and leave your peckin’ platform shoes here!”

 “You just don’t care for style.”

 “Do ya really want ta climb a mountain side in those shoes?”

 “...Fair point.”

[sidecarghost]

Suptober20 - Day 21 Fear Part 1

HighSchool!AU with a little bit of Soulmate trope - this AU has a phone app that can tell you the fears of your soulmate

Part 1/2 (part 2 is an epilogue that kind of changed the feel of the story enough that I decided to split into separate post)

Summary: Dean wants to get Castiel on a date and asks his best friend Charlie for help. Charlie tries to convince Dean just to talk to Castiel, but Dean is sure that Castiel doesn't even know he exists.

“Please Charlie, have some pity on me,” Dean laments tragically. He sits at the lunch table across from his best friend Charlie. He attempts his best puppy eyes to help his cause.

“Just talk to Castiel or I can talk to him. Your plan to rig his soulmate app results is so bizarre. I really can’t believe it has any chance at working,” Charlie counters.

“You just need to have faith, and I’m sure you can do it Charlie. Please don’t abandon me in my hour of need,” Dean begs his friend.

“Okay, okay enough with the guilt trip. You owe me after this Dean. But I’m not hacking Cas’s phone. We share a CompSci class. I’ll just ask him to beta test a soulmate clone app that will be loaded with a few random things you can try to be scared of,” Charlie explains.

“Thanks Charlie, you’re my hero,” Dean smiles enthusiastically.

“I’ll work on the app later, and text you after school,” Charlie tells Dean as she picks up her lunch tray and leaves the cafeteria. Dean floats to his next class with complete optimism that this plan will work.

~~ Later on, Charlie texts Dean ~~

Charlie: How is this for the list of your fears for the soulmate clone app?

Clowns

Cockroaches

Opening up to people

Germs

Demonic Possession

Cat jumping out of locker

Dean: Really “opening up to people?”

Charlie: Yeah, you can walk up to Castiel and tell him that you like him, and you were scared to tell him before. And then we can skip the rest of this bizarre plan.

Dean: Not happening.

Charlie: Okay, then back to our overly-complicated and sure-to-fail plan. How about this list?

Clowns

Cockroaches

Public speaking

Germs

Demonic Possession

Cat jumping out of locker

Dean: Okay this will work, and I have some awesome ideas how to pull them off. Cas is in a few of my classes, so I just need to do some prep and everything will run as smooth as a drive in the Impala.

Charlie: So what are you thinking?

Dean: my awesome plan:

When I see Cas at bus drop off area, Garth can help scare me with a clown mask

During our HomeEc class I'll put a cockroach in my pie batter to scare me

Presenting our projects in civics, I can do a mini panic attack or something

During gym maybe I can get someone to sneeze on me and then overreact

I have a charm from my Uncle Bobby that he said would ward off evil spirits according to lore. But since monsters aren't real I'm not sure how that one will work.

Who has cats at school? I don't think this one will work, can you take it off the list?

Charlie: Ok, so 4 is probably enough, but ig wear your evil charm just in case. And you have totally grossed me out with #2.

Dean: hey, the things we do for love right? I do feel bad for the pie batter tho.

***

Charlie makes her soulmate clone app, and she asks Castiel if he wouldn’t mind beta testing it during their Computer Science class. Castiel looks at Charlie with a fair amount of skepticism, but Charlie is his friend so he decides to indulge her request and installs the app. Charlie tells him a story about how she hit the original app with some machine learning algorithms to feed her clone app. So her soulmate app should be just as reliable as the original. Castiel figures they can just test that theory by opening the original app and seeing if the fears listed in both the original app and Charlie’s app match. Charlie sighs, and says that is very sensible, but she thinks her algorithms may have actually found flaws in the original app, so the results could be different because hers are more accurate.

"Really you think your app could be more accurate Charlie?” Castiel asks with a heavy amount of skepticism. “As in, there is actually a chance that a random generator on some server, is in fact not random but knows who we are destined to be in love with. I don't think soulmates are even something I believe in, do you believe in them?"

"Well, I never used too," Charlie replies thoughtfully. "But I have a friend, and he has been pretty unlucky in love. Maybe some people just keep striking out, because they really were meant to be with one particular soul. And until they finally end up with that person, they just have a lot of heartbreaks and casual flings. Seeing my friend struggle, is enough to make me think that sometimes, cupid can be a soulmate app. Or maybe I'm cupid in this metaphor and the soulmate app is my arrow, I'm not sure. But anyway, I guess what I mean is, romance doesn't only have to exist in romcoms. Sometimes we can let go of our fears, and believe in some greater force like destiny or soulmates or a very efficient machine learning algorithm will find us something we never knew we were missing, like the love of our lives."

"It sounds like your friend is lucky to have you," Castiel says.

"Yeah, he totally is," Charlie smirks.

"So what can I do with your soulmate app to help you and your friend's cause?" Castiel asks.

"Just look over my soulmate app results to see the kind of things that it lists as your soulmate’s fears, and I guess let me know at the end of the week if you found your soulmate, potential soulmate, or at least someone worth a date or two," Charlie says sheepishly.

Castiel checks the clone app results and laughs, "Okay, Charlie I'll keep you posted."

~~

Charlie: Castiel has the app. Good luck! Dean: Awesome! Tyyyy!

~~

Dean is not having good luck with these fears, and is beginning to think Charlie may have been right calling this plan too bizarre or complicated to succeed.

The first failure was the clown. Everything was going smoothly. Castiel was walking by him after leaving the bus drop off, and Garth jumped out with perfect timing wearing his creepy clown mask. But before Dean could say a word, Sam started screaming like a kid possessed. It was all Dean could do to calm his kid brother down and show him that it was just Garth playing a prank. Sam gave Dean and Garth the ultimate bitchface, and any hopes of that fear establishing his soulmate status with Castiel were gone.

Then there was the crisis with the cockroaches. For some reason, Garth was able to give him a cardboard box of several large cockroaches. And Dean was feeling pretty good about his chances of success, because Sammy wasn't there to scream bloody murder at the bugs. But when he went to get the cardboard box he found it empty. As the emptiness of that box registered in his brain, the shrieks from Meg and Jo's station gave him a good clue where the cockroaches were. Dean shook his head, and he looked over to see Castiel watching Meg and Jo take their rolling pins to squash the bugs. "Crap, now Cas is going to think Meg or Jo is his soulmate." Dean was definitely going to have to sell some panic for the Civics presentation.

But it seemed that fate was mad about Dean trying to rig the soulmate clone app results because the Civics presentation ended as the worst failure so far. Dean and his Civic project partners Anna and Kevin had taken their place at the front of the class. Dean checked out Castiel, who was seated in his desk and watching him and his partners attentively. Dean ran through in his head how he could nervously drop some things and sell the whole paranoia for public speaking. While Dean daydreamed a bit about Castiel's sexed up looking hair, he was snapped back to reality by the sound of vomiting coming from his left. He turned to see Kevin had upchucked all over Anna. Apparently Kevin was actually afraid of talking in front of people and that stress had affected his digestion. And it turned out that Anna was a bit of a germaphobe, because she seemed equal parts afraid of catching a disease and disgusted that her clothes were stained in barf.

Dean was faced to admit defeat, every fear meant to establish him as Castiel's soulmate had slipped through his fingers. And unless a demon suddenly appeared he was out of options.

Gym class was the last class he shared with Castiel. Dean was not going to bother to try to get sneezed on. Seeing Anna covered in upchuck was enough germs for one day. His gym teacher told the class to run laps around the building, and Dean began to run at a steady pace.

"Hello Dean," Castiel had run up alongside Dean and matched his speed so they could chat.

"Oh, hey," Dean turned to see Castiel had a slight smile and that was enough to encourage him to return with his own smile. Maybe Dean should try Charlie's original advice and just talk to Castiel. "How's it going Cas?"

"Pretty good. How's your brother? I think I saw him get upset on the way in to school today," Castiel says.

"Oh, he's okay," Dean grins sheepishly. "He is afraid of clowns, and I kind of had this prank idea with Garth. But since I can be a self-absorbed, older brother I didn't really think through how that would affect Sammy."

"Yeah, it seems like there has been plenty of weird stuff going on at school today between the clowns, cockroaches, and vomit," Castiel says cocking an eyebrow at Dean.

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I just wish I could hit a restart button, and start the day over without all the weird," Dean shakes his head.

"You know Charlie Bradbury right? If it was possible to program a restart button I would talk to her," Castiel replies. "We are in Computer Science together, and I think she knows more about the subject than our teacher."

"Oh yeah, I know Charlie. We have been best friends since kindergarten," Dean tells Castiel. "And I have no doubt that she is smarter than your Computer Science teacher."

"Do you mind me asking what that charm is on your necklace?" Castiel asks.

"Oh, just this thing from my uncle. Supposed to ward off evil things or bad spirits." Dean tells Castiel.

"I guess that would be a good thing to wear if you were afraid of demon possession," Castiel deadpans.

"Uh..." Dean finds himself at a loss for a response. Dean has the sneaking suspicion that Castiel has figured out everything about “beta testing” Charlie’s soulmate app. He considers changing course from circling the school, and instead running flat out the entire way back to his house. Maybe Charlie can get him an assumed identity.

Before Dean has a chance to flee, Castiel continues the conversation. “Do you have a cat in a locker somewhere?" He asks with interest.

"Of course not," Dean tries to hold back a laugh and fails. "Charlie was supposed to take that off the list. So I guess you found me out." Dean glances towards Castiel to get a read on his expression.

"Well, I did tell Charlie I'd give her app a chance," Castiel replies with a soft smile towards Dean. "Would you like to go on a date with me later? Maybe we can find out if we are soulmates or not."

"Yeah, Cas," Dean says with a dazzling smile. "I really would like that."

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「午夜华章」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Symphony of the Night Translations (Chapter 1-01: Prologue)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist  *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event *(y/n) is your name when in direct referral; otherwise referred to as MC. *Presenting: 10 pages of prologue content (cracks fingers)

Location: Detective Agency

The winter sun shone into Xia Yan’s office, but I couldn’t feel even the slightest bit of warmth from it.

Now, Xia Yan was beside me with a frown on his face as we both stared intently at what he was holding in his hand…

???: Listen well, Great Detective and partner… This will be your last chance.

A voice that had been processed by a voice-changer came from the strange box that he held within his palm, holding absolutely no trace of emotion at all.

???: If you cannot help me complete this commission of mine by finding the missing hacker within the specified time limit…

???: I will immediately launch an attack on the Big Data Lab, which will paralyze Stellis City’s entire network.

The voice cut off here, ending spontaneously, leaving me facing Xia Yan, who had a look of utter seriousness on his face.

Xia Yan had received a commission last evening. The Client came oddly in the form of a box, and the details of the commission were all also transmitted to him through the very same box itself. Knowing how I loved puzzles, Xia Yan had invited me to investigate it together with him. But who knew that this commission also came with a threat.

The Big Data Lab would come under fire if we failed to complete the commission… The Client had repeatedly emphasized on that point without providing us with any other explanation. 

Xia Yan: Since you’ve already come to us with a commission, then how about you tell us about everything clearly? Who exactly is this hacker you’re searching for…?

Bzzt, bzzt―—

The phone that I had left on the table buzzed to life. Seeing the Caller ID flashing upon the screen, Xia Yan stopped questioning the box.

MC: Lu Jinghe? Didn’t he say that he had a whole day of meetings with the Board of Directors? Why is he suddenly calling now…?

Xia Yan: ...I have a bad feeling about this. In any case, let’s answer his call first.

I nodded and answered the call.

Lu Jinghe: (Y/n), I heard yesterday that you were going to the Detective Agency to play. Are you still there now?

MC: I am. Did something happen?

Lu Jinghe: Could you pass the phone to Xia Yan?

He wants to talk to Xia Yan? I paused for a moment, looking towards the guy in question.

Xia Yan nodded, signaling for me to put the call on speaker.

Xia Yan: Lu Jinghe, has there been any problems with the Big Data Lab recently?

Lu Jinghe: What a direct question. Looks like you do know something about this after all.

Lu Jinghe: The Big Data Lab has been harassed by hackers a couple of times recently. The engineers there have just warded off another attack just now.

Xia Yan: Why are you looking for me? Is it because you feel like I’ve done something similar, and thus, being the first one on your list of suspected people?

Lu Jinghe: ...If you absolutely have to put it that way, well, you’re not exactly wrong either.

Lu Jinghe: But, what I’m more worried about is the fact that this isn’t an attack by just a single person, but rather, an organized large-scale attack.

Lu Jinghe: If this is the case, then we can only rely on the personnel currently stationed there. But I’m afraid it’ll be hard to ward them off with just that amount of manpower.

Lu Jinghe: So, I was thinking of asking you for some recommendations of experts in this field. Even better if they’re open to external contracts.

Xia Yan: So that’s how it really is after all… If I’m not guessing wrongly, I think that this has something to do with the current commission I’m undertaking.

Xia Yan: This matter involves the entire Stellis City Network, and it’s not something that any one of us can handle on our own.

Xia Yan: Can we call a full NXX Member Meeting at once? I’ll explain everything then. 

Lu Jinghe: Yes. You and (Y/n) head to the Base first, I’ll notify the other two.

Ending the call, Xia Yan’s gaze fell to the box by his hand once more, his expression solemn.

MC: Xia Yan, does this mean that something serious has happened for you to be calling everyone together to investigate this?

Xia Yan: Yes. Even though everything still looks peaceful now, I have a hunch that…

Xia Yan: This commission that was headed by a threat must be much more complicated than we think it is.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

One hour later, at NXX’s Base.

Location: NXX Base’s Meeting Room

Mo Yi: So? The Client oddly came to you in the form of a box that cannot be pried open and even threatened the one who’s taking on the job for them, all just to find a single missing person?

Xia Yan: The Client has repeatedly emphasized on the fact that this matter cannot be let known to the public. I suspect the missing hacker must have come upon something dangerous.

Lu Jinghe: No matter how dangerous it might be, they should have been prepared for some leaks to happen when requesting for outside help. Using the Big Data Lab as a threat is just too unreasonable…

Zuo Ran: How serious were the attacks on the Big Data Lab so far?

Lu Jinghe: Even I can’t explain this properly, myself. But I’ve found a helper who’s very good at this aspect of things, so it’ll be more reliable to let him do all the explaining.

Saying so, he booted up NXX Base’s computer.

After inputting in a series of commands, he turned on the projection device, and a figure slowly formed before us.

MC: Huh? Aren’t you…

Chu Dai: Hello, I am Chu Dai, the Big Data Lab’s exclusive AI. I'm pleased to be of service to you.

I was stunned for a while at seeing the AI boy who I only saw on my phone, the one who loved leaving interesting evaluations on encyclopedia entries, appearing before my very eyes.

MC: You’re Chu Dai?

Chu Dai: I am! I can always talk to you like this if you prefer this form of mine more~

Lu Jinghe: Chu Dai, report on the current status of the hacker attacks on the Big Data Lab.

Chu Dai’s expression turned sullen upon the mention of the “hacker attacks”.

Chu Dai: Yes, leave it to me to explain that.

Chu Dai: Ever since last month, the Big Data Lab has been facing small-scale attacks every few days. Fortunately, they all seemed to be just testing the waters, so no real harm was done.

Chu Dai: The hackers launched yet another attack this morning. And the engineers think that they may be just buying time to analyze the Firewalls.

Chu Dai: Chu Dai has been pushing back the hacker's parsing progress, but Chu Dai thinks that they've already completed it.

Chu Dai: If there's another attack, the Firewall will have a higher than 90% chance of being broken through…

Xia Yan: This Client who's looking for a missing hacker's actually also a highly skilled hacker themselves.

Xia Yan: Based on my understanding of the warning that the Client had sent, I suspect that what the Big Data Lab has been subjected to are just pre-emptive attacks.

Lu Jinghe: You mean, he deliberately pushed the cracking process to a critical point, only to force you to complete the Commission?

Xia Yan: I'm afraid so. These attacks are simply to prove that he has the capabilities to take down the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: In my opinion, I think that the best way to resolve this incident would be to track down the Client before they can launch a next attack.

Mo Yi: Which mean, you intend on accepting this commission?

Zuo Ran: Buying time by accepting the commission, and then conducting reverse-tracking to locate the signal from where it was originally sent from would also be a plausible method.

Lu Jinghe: What's your stand on this, (Y/n)?

Everyone turned to look at me at his question.

⊳ Choice: Accept commission

MC: I think it'll be better if we accept this commission too.

MC: I think it's better for us to play along with the other side's tune first, until we get a full grasp of the situation. This way, we might also be able to find more clues along with our investigations.

Mo Yi: Nothing ventured, nothing gained… that's a very interesting way of thinking.

Mo Yi: I'll be very happy to accompany you, if that is your decision.

Xia Yan: Yup, I'm of the same mind too. You can rest assured on the problem of safety if we're going to be working together.

⊳ Choice: Refuse commission

MC: Logically speaking, I think that we should accept it… but personally, I still think that we should look into it a little more.

MC: We’re unable to identify the true motives of the person we’re up against at this current moment in time. And if finding the missing person’s just a guise...

Zuo Ran: So, you’re worried about what the other party’s motives are. Truth to be told, I’ve also thought about that.

Zuo Ran: But this is also the only option we have that allows us to obtain more clues. Rest assured; I’ll be accompanying you.

Lu Jinghe: And you have me too! Leave your safety to me; still worried about it, Big Sister?

Chu Dai: Yep, yep! Chu Dai will also follow the hacker's signal to its source and provide all of you with support! 

Xia Yan showed everyone the box that the Client had sent by placing it atop the table.

Xia Yan: This is what the Client sent. I tried to pry it open yesterday but found that it's a complicated piece of electronic equipment that cannot be disassembled at will.

Lu Jinghe: ...It's not a bomb or anything along those lines, right?

Chu Dai: No, but it should be a device that requires special commands to open. Can you connect it to the computer? Let me try opening it.

Xia Yan connected the box to the computer with a USB cable. The projection of Chu Dai temporarily disappeared to focus on analyzing the box. We waited for about ten minutes before the box on the table snapped open with a click, opening from the gap in its center.

Lu Jinghe: Whoa! It's open?

His voice had only just faded before Chu Dai's own rang from the computer's speakers.

Chu Dai: This box is called the "Vespers' Box" —— And this is the data that the creator has placed within it.

Chu Dai: Oh yes, by the way, there's a special program installed into the "Vespers' Box" which records the first person who boots it up.

Chu Dai: But Chu Dai is definite that it won't pose any threat to anyone! So, please feel free to investigate it to your heart's content!

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, leaving Xia Yan to pick up the box. After confirming that there were really no problems with the box, he handed it to me.

Xia Yan: I see that you've been so curious about this box for a long time now, so how about you lead everyone on the investigation of this thing?

MC: Me? Are you sure about that?

I looked around, only to meet everyone's trusting eyes.

MC: Alright then… Let me check this out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: I just have to open the box from here, right?

Xia Yan: Yup, just flip both sides open.

Zuo Ran: Be careful while opening it since there's a delicate device inside.

MC: I won't handle it roughly… you really should have a little more faith in me, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: ……

Zuo Ran: What I meant was...be careful not to scratch your hands from the small, intricate parts of the device.

MC: S-Sure…

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Nine screens? Is it used to display different parts of the commission?

Mo Yi: Perhaps it has something to do with it's name of the "Vespers' Box"...? Unless, maybe it's really a commission from an undead?

Lu Jinghe: Well… don't you think this is shaped a little similar to cosmetic products and the like that girls use…?

MC: Cosmetic products for girls…? You don't look the type to be that knowledgeable about it.

Lu Jinghe: Hehe— Of course I'll pay attention to something that might be a potential present for you one day!

Chu Dai: Everyone, I've already activated the program within the "Vespers' Box". You can activate the screen to light it up by tapping on it again so please try it out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Whoa… how beautiful!

Mo Yi: ...It can be regarded as an Art Masterpiece.

Chu Dai: The contents being shown on the screen are the instructions for your investigations. I'm still analyzing it so please wait for a moment.

Zuo Ran: Only one screen has been lit while the others are locked and marked by a serial number… Are these all steps dictated by the Client themselves?

MC: Looks like we can only play along with them until we manage to find them…

Lu Jinghe: Let's first discuss the countermeasures we're going to be taking while waiting for Chu Dai to decrypt it.

Xia Yan: Yup. We have to listen to what everyone thinks of this before deciding whether or not to participate in this Case.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

We temporarily put the "Vespers' Box" aside since Chu Dai was still parsing the encrypted content on the screen.

Lu Jinghe: Let me share my opinion first. I cannot ignore it now, since this matter concerns the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: This person approached me by name and even threatened the Network Security of Stellis City, so I can't stand by and do nothing about it either.

Lu Jinghe: ...So you're saying that you want to settle this together too, don't you?

Xia Yan: This was originally a matter that the Client entrusted to me alone.

MC: ……

Don't we all investigate cases together all the time anyway? Why do the two of you have to be so…

MC: Then...how about we all solve it together?

Xia Yan: You want to participate too? But I'm afraid it'll affect your job…

Zuo Ran: Priorities are priorities. This issue of the "Vespers' Box" involves the Information Security of Stellis City as a whole, and thus, cannot be ignored.

Zuo Ran: (Y/n), I can give you a vacation to let you focus on this matter at hand. I will lend my aid as well.

MC: What…? Are you sure?

MC: Thank you, Lawyer Zuo!

Lu Jinghe: I knew that things would eventually turn out like this…

Mo Yi: We're all members of the same team, so it's not good to be leaving teammates behind and act on your own accord, correct?

MC: Are you joining us too Dr. Mo?

Mo Yi: Of course. I'll naturally accompany you to face this challenge that you've undertaken.

Lu Jinghe: Acting cool even in a time like this…?

Zuo Ran: How much longer till Chu Dai decrypts the tasks?

Chu Dai: Mission completed! Everyone, you can now check the tasks on the screen of the "Vespers' Box"!

Chu Dai made a re-appearance before us again as a projection after completing the decryption process.

Chu Dai: The Client has made nine task groups and will probably be giving us clues and hints on where to investigate after completing them.

Chu Dai: Actively complete the tasks set out by the Client, and you should be able to see what his true motives are soon enough!

Lu Jinghe: Complete tasks to get hints…? Does he think of this as a game?

Xia Yan: A hacker's code is unique, each to its own, like a fingerprint. It'll come a long way in helping us identify the Client if we can crack his method of compiling source codes.

Xia Yan: I'll be cooped up here most of the time from now on, using what resources we have at hand to crack the codes. I hope Chu Dai can assist me with that.

Xia Yan: This way, I can also provide remote support if the Big Data Lab faces threat again.

Lu Jinghe: No problem. I've already notified the Big Data Lab to leave enough Memory Space for Chu Dai to work with for this Case.

Chu Dai: Yup! Chu Dai's daily serviceable functions won't be affected at all, so feel free to use me to assist you in your investigations!

I felt a surge of relief upon seeing them settle the arrangements without a hitch.

MC: Please don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything I can help with! I'm still on vacation, so I my time's more flexible now.

All eyes on the floor turned to me right after the words left my mouth, making me feel oddly embarrassed out of nowhere.

MC: Don't...Don't look at me like that. I might not know much about hackers, but I'm still able to run around doing errands and investigations for clues…

Xia Yan: Actually, there's this one other important thing that only you can do. Sorry, I kept forgetting to tell you about it.

Under my curious gaze, Xia Yan took a deep breath before speaking slowly.

Xia Yan: I hope you'll take custody of the "Vespers' Box" and lead this investigation.

MC: !!!

Xia Yan: I know that this is a little risky. It was I, who received the commission, and I shouldn't have involved others who didn't have anything to do with it…

Xia Yan: But I have to stay at the Base most of the time to analyze the codes, so I had to find someone who would be able to take on the task and carry out the investigations out in the field much more conveniently.

Zuo Ran: This is too dangerous. We do not know of the reason behind the hacker's disappearance and have no way of identifying who we're up against.

Mo Yi: But her safety will be guaranteed so long as there's always someone by her side, yes?

Mo Yi smiled at me.

Mo Yi: My recent schedule is somewhat free, so I can accompany you if that's any reassurance.

MC: Huh? But wouldn't I be troubling you way too much…?

Lu Jinghe: Trouble or no trouble, I wouldn't trust someone who only wakes at 9AM to protect you.

Xia Yan: Same.

Zuo Ran: Mo Yi, I hope you'd consider the feasibility of your suggestion before putting it forth.

Mo Yi: ......

Zuo Ran: All four of us have a fixed range of activities we are involved in; be it work or investigation...

Zuo Ran: So how about we take turns to accompany her based on whose workplace is the closest when the tasks get triggered?

Zuo Ran: The "Vespers' Box" will be stored in NXX's Base after completing the daily tasks every day. This way, there'll be no need to be afraid of being tracked.

Lu Jinghe: Yes, that's certainly a good idea.

Xia Yan: I won't be careless when it comes to the problem of her safety. I'll also track and monitor her location in real time when she's out through the GPS signal beamed from her mobile.

Mo Yi: Alright. This is certainly the most efficient method we've come up with.

Chu Dai: So... have all of you decided the course of action you’ll be taking?

Chu Dai, who had been watching us all this time, seemed to have finally found an opportunity to interrupt us.

Chu Dai: Oh! Looks like you've all talked it out! (Y/n) has a very good work record! I'm sure she'll have absolutely no problem at all leading the investigation!

MC: Haha, thank you for the compliments, Chu Dai!

Chu Dai: Then next, I will be explaining the functions of the "Vespers' Box" that I've analyzed.

Chu Dai: All members of NXX, please listen carefully, for you'll be using these eventually in consequent investigations!

Everyone nodded, gathering where I was to listen to his explanation.

A heavy sense of responsibility weighed on my heart as I held the "Vespers' Box" in my hands.

MC: (Please rest assured, all of you who have placed your deep trust in me…)

MC: (I'll definitely complete this commission and find out the true colors of this mysterious Client of ours!)

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (NXX Group Chat: Big Data Lab)

[bananban-feature]

GOT7: Jinyoung

I haven’t written in a while. I actually  have a list of things to write about, and this isn’t actually part of it, but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do. I’ve just been watching fan-made Youtube videos about JY, and I just can’t help but take this chance to write about my GOT7 bias.

Jinyoung is an absolute cutie pie!!

OMG just look at him. An absolute cutie. :( His smile is so adorable.

To be honest, I first watched him in He Is Psychometric. I didn’t know he was part of GOT7 (I’ve just heard of the group, but I didn’t actually know anything about them). He had a pretty cute and fun character there, especially because I really liked the special power concept of the show, but that was about it.

My admiration for him grew big when I saw him with GOT7. I think I first saw one of their interviews in America. Suddenly, I viewed him as the super adorable human being he actually is and immediately stanned him hard.

TALENT

I will repeatedly say it on this blog: I’m a big fan of multi-talented people, especially those with adorable visuals. Jinyoung is one of them! Obviously, he can act - aside from He Is Psychometric, he’s done a bunch of other roles in dramas. Being a member of GOT7, he can dance well. To add to that, he has such an angelic voice. I don’t usually expect much from kpop sub-vocals + visuals, but Jinyoung, he can really sing!!! I like his voice!

I’ve recently started learning classical guitar. Yesterday, I found out he also plays the guitar well, even while singing. Just a few seconds, I saw a clip of him playing a classical guitar piece. He can also play the piano! (Ugh the connection to me stirs my heart, lol) I’m a sucker for those who can play instruments, if you still haven’t noticed.

INTELLIGENCE

Not only am I a fan of multi-talented people, I am also a big fan of smart people. Surprise, surprise, Jinyoung is also one of those. I just learned that today. I’ve always found book nerds cool. Aside from that, I saw that in Escape Rooms, he’s usually the problem-solver of the group.

I think he picks things up quickly. Even though he didn’t grow up speaking English, he’s learned English so well he almost sounds like a native speaker sometimes! Of course there are still some grammatical errors and accent slips here and there, but his English sounds so fluid!

PERSONALITY

I’ve been talking about his skills and talents, but what really got my heart is his lovely personality.

When I first watched him in American interviews, I thought he was pretty quiet (even though he speaks English so well). Not too quiet, but he’s just not as talkative/noisy as the others (Jackson, Bambam, Youngjae, Yugyeom, etc). I found it kinda adorable considering his role in He Is Psychometric is a little different. Then I saw other fan-made videos and learned he is actually called Savage King! I even saw a clips of him mocking JYP (the OG Park Jinyoung) right in his face (Knowing Brothers)! He’s funny and has no filter. I love his relationship with the members. They’re hilarious.

As Mother to GOT7

Jinyoung can get savage, but his truest personality is this soft, loving, human being. He is like the mother of GOT7 because he takes care of the members all the time. He supports them when they’re sick, gives them what they need even if they haven’t asked yet. I especially love his relationship with JB. The parents of GOT7 - ah they are my top 2 people in the group. JB, as the super reliable leader of the group, also relies on Jinyoung as his partner in taking care of their GOT7 children. When JB is not present or is having a hard time, Jinyoung is there to take the lead, especially in bringing back order when GOT7 gets chaotic (as they usually do).

Everything he does is adorable to me now. :(

How do I reach the Jinyoung level? Sigh. Hello, Jinyoung, I’m also in the ‘94 Line.

To end this post, I’m going to bless you with Jinyoung in a rugged-look.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Keep Talking, Oh, Keep Talking

So, I know it’s been FOREVER since I posted any writing, and that’s mostly because I was working on this @sanderssantas​ fic for @mewithanie​! So sorry about how long it’s been, and hopefully I’ll be posting things again slightly more often lol

I had so much fun writing this! Happy holidays, mewithanie! <3

AO3     Masterlist

Summary: Patton and Virgil were deliriously in love and didn’t think they could get any happier. Enter Logan, Virgil’s tutor.

Warnings: alcohol use, slight intoxication. 

Pairing(s): established moxiety into analogicality

Word Count: 2,647 (plus 2 fake-texts images)

Tag List:  @ren-allen​​ @ccecode​​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​​ @ilovemygaydad​​ @bloodropsblog​​ @funsizedgremlin​​ @raygelkitty​​ @roxiefox23​​ @thomasthesandersengine​

Patton loved his boyfriends. He loved them so much that sometimes, when he thought about them, his heart would race, his knees would go weak, and his head would spin. Especially since Logan joined the relationship.

Patton and Virgil met the first day of college, in their shared psychology class. It wasn't long until they started dating, and a year later, they moved in together. Patton had known for years that he was polyamorous, but he kept that to himself, because he was blissfully happy with Virgil, and it was never relevant. Until the second semester after they moved in together, that is.

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

Eight Months Ago

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil walked through the front door of the apartment and was immediately caught in a bear hug.

"Well hello to you too," Virgil laughed, despite his terrible mood.

"What, a guy can't be excited to see his favorite stormcloud?" Patton looked up at him, his expression just a little bit too innocent.

"Patton, what did you do?" Virgil questioned, remembering the cupcake tower Patton made the night before their first set of final exams together and the time he came home from his first therapy session to find the living room covered in fairy lights.

"Nothing major; I promise. Come look!" Patton took him by the hand and practically dragged him into the kitchen. "See? Just a lasagna. Let's eat while you tell me about your meeting and this mysterious Logan guy."

Virgil got a couple plates and served the lasagna as he started talking. "Turns out, he's in my class. I've mentioned front-and-center-nerd before, yeah?" Patton laughed.

"Dresses more professionally than the teacher, kinda cute but also seems stuck up?"

"Yep, that's the guy. He's a lot chiller than I thought he'd be. Anyway, we're gonna meet after class every Wednesday for the rest of the semester."

"I'm sure it's gonna go great!"

Five Months Ago

"Hi, I'm Patton! Nice to meet you; Virgil has said such wonderful things about you!" Patton half-yelled over the music playing at the bar.

"Oh, erm, hello. I am Logan, although clearly you already knew that. Virgil has spoken highly of you as well." Logan fought the impulse to adjust his tie. Patton opened his mouth to say something else, but Virgil arrived with their drinks, passing them out as he sat down.

"Alright, we've got a whiskey neat for Logan, some IPA that the bartender recommended for you, Pat, and a rum and Coke for me. Honestly, though, Patton, I don't get how you can drink those. I had a sip of yours on my way over, and it was awful."

Patton laughed. "Yeah, they're not for everyone, but I like 'em! And it's hard to drink too many of them, unlike your drinks, so I don't get super drunk- my tolerance is garbage. Anyway," he continued with a mock glare at his boyfriend, "we aren't here to make fun of the way I drink, we're here to celebrate Virgil!" He raised his glass.

"Indeed. It has been an honor working with you this past semester, Virgil, and I am proud to see your hard work pay off," Logan added, raising his glass as well.

Virgil blushed and refused to look at either of them. "I barely got a B+, that's hardly a reason to celebrate," he mumbled.

"Falsehood. Truthfully, when we began working together, I doubted that you would be able to achieve higher than a C. You worked incredibly hard, not only on the subject matter, but on how you approached studying. Your dedication is truly inspiring."

"Hear hear! Virge, I know how hard this class has been on you. You've worked that cute butt of yours off for it, and that alone deserves celebration, even before you take into account how much that hard work paid off! But if it helps, we can call this a general post-finals celebration, okay?" Patton was rewarded with a grateful smile.

"You guys deserve to be celebrated too. Logan, you have been so incredibly patient with me; I know that I'm not exactly the most pleasant to be around when I get frustrated, so, thanks for sticking with me, I guess. And Pat, you've had my back since day one. I love you more than I could ever say, baby." He pressed a sweet kiss to Patton's cheek, and Logan was suddenly very interested in his drink.

"Loooogan has anyone told you how pretty you are?" Patton hit his hands on the table, almost knocking over the glass that once contained a strawberry daiquiri; he'd decided he wanted something sweeter after two beers.

"No no no no, the prettiest one here is Virgil. Those cheekbones have got to be illegal somewhere," Logan wasn't any more sober, two whiskeys in. "And his face when he's focusing on studying is just the cutest thing everrr."

"Oh I know! Have you seen him do the thing where he sticks his tongue out a little bit when he's really concentrating?" Patton was practically bouncing in his seat, continuing to be a danger to the glasses.

"Dear Newton yes! I had to excuse myself and get a drink of water the first time I saw him do it."

"Wait, that's why you left? I thought it was because you were getting frustrated with how long it was taking me to get it!" Virgil chimed in, astonished.

"Sounds like he was some sort of frustrated alright," Patton muttered.

"Look. We all know that Virgil is an incredibly attractive man, and I am a simple homosexual. That said, Patton, I apologize for the… less than appropriate thoughts I may have had before I knew that he was in a relationship at all, let alone one as objectively adorable as yours."

Patton giggled. "No worries, Lolo! Like you said, my man is an entire three-course meal, and it would be silly of me to hold natural, human thoughts against you! And besides, you weren't the only one in those study sessions with some interesting thoughts, right Virgey?"

"Oh my god Patton I cannot believe you just said that!" Virgil hid his flaming blush behind his hands.

"Oops! Sorry, V!"

"You- you're okay with that? Your boyfriend and a stranger having lewd thoughts about each other?" Logan asked.

"Well yeah! I'm not the jealous type, and I trust Virgil. What's important to me is open and honest communication, and he told me about his attraction to you almost immediately. Plus, in all honesty, I found it kinda hot, especially once he showed me a picture of you."

Logan looked to Virgil and raised an eyebrow. Virgil game the same look to Patton, who, after a moment of confusion and then realization, nodded slightly and leaned back in his chair. Once Patton gave his blessing, Virgil leaned in and kissed Logan, soft and unsure. After they separated, Logan approached Patton and, after receiving another nod of consent, pressed a similar kiss to his lips.

The next morning

"So… can we talk about what happened last night?" Patton asked sweetly over breakfast.

"Oh my god are you actually not okay with it? Patton, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, Virgil, no, I really did mean that it was okay. More than okay, even. In fact, I think now is a good time to tell you that I'm polyamorous. I had a lot of fun hanging out with Logan last night, and I'd like to get to know him better. And clearly you are both into each other. I love you so much, and I just want you to be happy. If you want to, I think at least a conversation with Logan about it couldn't hurt."

Virgil sat in silence, sipping his coffee occasionally, for several minutes before speaking. "Pat, I love you more than I can possibly say. I'm honestly not surprised that you're polyam; you have so much love to give. I, uh, I actually am too. So, uh, I guess I'll call Logan? See if he wants to get lunch or something?"

"Aww yay! Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick." Patton kissed Virgil quickly on the cheek on his way out of the room.

Virgil took a steadying breath and took out his phone.

     -

Logan straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "If I am understanding this correctly, you are both polyamorous and… wish for me to join your relationship?"

"Not so formally, but yeah? Last night, it was clear we all find each other hot. Which, like, duh, you're both gorgeous and sometimes I look pretty okay. Not now, Pat." Virgil preempted Patton's interruption without looking away from Logan. "I like you a lot, and I think you and Patton would also get along really well. So, uh, yeah, this is us asking you out. Not asking for any sort of commitment or anything, just hanging out and going on dates and stuff. You know, normal dating stuff. Just… with two of us."

"Only if you want to! And if you wanted to just date Virgil, I'd be completely okay with that too, but I had a lot of fun last night, and I'd love to get to know you better."

A tense moment of silence later, Logan spoke. "Let me begin by saying how flattered I am by your interest, both of you. While I am… inclined to accept your invitation to date both of you, I have never put much thought into my own feelings about polyamory for myself. Obviously, it is a completely normal and rational thing; my hesitation is in how I might fit into your so well-established relationship. Additionally, feelings do not come easily to me, and I find them exceedingly frustrating trying to understand. I have been reliably informed that this makes me a poor romantic partner." He took a breath and adjusted his tie.

"I have noticed that you are both quite vocally and physically publicly affectionate with each other, and I wonder whether my reticence with such displays would leave you unhappy with me. I have historically struggled to show adequate affection to just one person; I cannot imagine I would be able to give you both the kind of affection you seem to crave. In short, while I would like to accept, I currently cannot see it ending in anything but significant emotional distress for all of us. I apologize, most sincerely."

"I think I can safely speak for both of us when I say that we appreciate your honesty," Patton began gently. "Can I address some of your points?" Logan gave him a confused look, but nodded. "Thank you! So, it seems like your big concern is that you're afraid your emotional reticence would in some way hurt us or leave us unsatisfied. Am I understanding that right?" He waited for another nod before continuing. "To be honest, Lo, that's just silly. Are you familiar with Gary Chapman's concept of love languages?" Logan shook his head.

"Chapman posited that there are five ways people experience and express love- gifts, quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch- and everyone prefers to give and receive one or two of them over the others. Mine is words of affirmation, and Virgil's is physical touch; that's why we are as outwardly affectionate as we are. Trying to force a partner to 'speak' your language and not their own is just going to make everyone unhappy; healthy relationships require everyone involved to understand what the others need and want. We would never try to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with. We want to date you, Logan, not some version of you that pretends to be something or someone you aren't. If you let us, we'd love to learn your love language and not ask or expect anything else of you."

"Also," Virgil chimed in, "as to your worry about how you'd fit? Not a worry at all. I love Patton so much, and his energy and positivity makes me feel so good most of the time, but sometimes it can be... a bit much. He's wonderful at giving me space when I want it, but I know that I'd enjoy having someone else around who's more grounded. On the other hand, I remember quite a few study sessions that got diverted by you going on a tangent about something you love. If you think that passion isn't something Patton is going to join you in, you're incredibly wrong. And I think that his energy will help draw you out of that thick shell of yours, while I'll always be a more down-to-earth realist with you. I think we'd all be great for each other, if you're willing to give us the chance to show you. Only if you want to, though. One word, and we'll shut up about it forever." He gave Logan an anxious smile.

"In the face of such reasonable responses to my concerns, I suppose I have no choice but to gladly accept." Virgil and Patton both silently melted at the pure joy in Logan's smile. Well, Virgil was silent. Patton let out a squeal of delight that only dogs could hear.

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

Present

Patton loved his boyfriends so much, just remembering the beginning of their story made him dizzy. Wait. No. Bad dizzy. I need to- he collapsed on the bathroom floor with a resounding THUD.  

-

THUD

Virgil jumped out of his seat. "Logan? Patton??" he called as he ran from their bedroom to the living room.

"Patton? Virgil?" Logan shouted at the same time. They met in the living room.

"Shit, where's Patton? PATTON!" Virgil yelled.

"It sounded like it came from the bathroom." Logan had barely finished his sentence before they both started running. They skidded to a halt outside the closed door; Virgil knocked.

"Patton? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

Three seconds of silence later, Logan knocked. "Patton, we are coming in." They opened the door to find him collapsed on the floor.

"Patton, can you hear us? Patton??" Virgil fell to his knees, checking for breathing and a pulse. "He's got a weak pulse, but it's there, and he's breathing okay. I don't- what do we do, Lo?" Virgil's voice was barely more than a shaky squeak.

Logan, on the other hand, spoke with cool, detached clarity. "Assuming that Patton collapsed due to a loss of consciousness, he has been unconscious for approximately thirty seconds. If he is out for another minute, we will call 911. In the meantime, go get a glass of water and all the pillows from the living room. Quickly, Verge. We need to get him back." They locked eyes and saw mirrored concern and panic. Virgil turned and ran to the kitchen. He was back in 45 seconds, and found Logan holding up Patton's groggy, but conscious, head.

"Virgil, you're back. Excellent. Here, give me a couple of pillows." He tucked them under his head gently, while Virgil knelt down beside him and took his hand. Only then did he notice how much his own were shaking.

"Patton, are you okay? What happened?"

"Mmf, dunno. Got dizzy. Are you guys okay?" Patton mumbled.

"Patton, of- of course we are okay; you're the one who fell. We should get you into bed. Do you think you can stand?" Logan asked.

"I- I don't think so, not quite yet." Logan and Virgil once again met eyes in a silent conversation.

"Okay, Pat, knees up, I'm gonna carry you." With an ease that surprised and slightly aroused Logan, Virgil picked Patton up, placed a soft kiss to his forehead, and carried him to the bedroom. "Let's get you to bed, baby; we'll take good care of you. You're gonna be just fine," he said softly into Patton's hair.

Once they got him to bed, they tucked him in, Logan made chicken noodle soup for when Patton felt up to it, and they gave him all of the cuddles he could possibly want. Which is, of course, an unlimited amount.