#rather than what did happen which is because the blue one was in office that gov declaration was received as self evidently true

[star-sim]

hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim

☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy

Jake Sim was many things.

One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.

As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.

There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.

For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent. 

Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.

He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.

In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way. 

Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too. 

This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.

Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.

Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.

However, there was always one exception.

You.

pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?

The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.

me: yeah i'll come over right now

You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.

Not that either of you minded.

Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.

Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable. 

And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.

You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.

Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.

"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did. 

"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown. 

"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.

How could he not resist teasing you?

You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.

Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.

You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.

"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"

You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote. 

"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"

You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more. 

Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.

Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.

"How do I look?" you asked. 

Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.

"Beautiful." 

As always.

The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.

Except that got delayed.

“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.

“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”

Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.

“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.

Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether. 

“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“

“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.

Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.

(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)

"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.

"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"

Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.

You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention. 

That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.

This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.

Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.

"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily. 

As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California. 

It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.

You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.

Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.

"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly. 

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.

"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.

You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."

Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.

Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.

Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.

As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. 

Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours. 

And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.

Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.

"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway. 

"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."

You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.

"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?

"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."

And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.

He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"

You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff. 

"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.

"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.

"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.

"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him. 

"No."

"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him. 

"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."

Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."

You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck. 

"You're just too addicting."

Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus. 

However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.

His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.

"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.

"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."

It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him. 

Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you. 

He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you. 

When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him. 

For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.

Except, one comment caught his eye.

“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.

At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie. 

As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.

Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video. 

Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame? 

So that maybe someone would see it.

Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.

Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.

At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.

You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.

Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.

Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.

"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes. 

Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."

You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.

"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"

You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened. 

"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."

Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"

She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.

Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.

"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."

She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).

"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"

"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute. 

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.

Did you have to look so pretty today?

Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications. 

Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face. 

"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.

Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.

"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."

"I literally smiled earlier!"

"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."

"Shut up!"

Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.

He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.

But Jake missed you right now.

His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.

He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.

Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!

However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.

It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.

"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.

But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.

Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.

Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that. 

Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.

"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.

He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.

And his wish came true a few hours later.

It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.

He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.

And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.

You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you. 

However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.

Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.

"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.

"Hey, baby," he grinned. 

Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.

You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.

When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service. 

As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.

As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.

Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other. 

There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.

What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."

"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."

"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."

For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.

Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together. 

"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post. 

Family.

That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).

"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.

Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.

"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."

It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.

"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."

"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."

Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."

He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”

You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.

“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"

He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck. 

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.

The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.

Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.

Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."

You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.

"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"

He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser. 

Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair. 

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.

God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.

Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly. 

In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt. 

Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest. 

Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.

"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."

He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.

If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.

"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.

You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips. 

Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.

Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.

You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.

"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.

You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.

"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"

With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.

Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.

After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.

You little tease.

Jake's last straw was.... right now.

After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.

Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.

That should be him!

Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.

Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.

"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"

Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.

"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."

Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.

"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."

The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.

Oh.

Shit.

Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.

There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.

"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."

The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.

"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.

A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.

But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.

Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.

Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.

The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.

Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.

But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.

You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.

Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down. 

Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.

As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.

There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.

You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.

Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.

He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.

Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.

"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off. 

"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.

"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."

Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.

Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub. 

The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax. 

Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.

Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.

“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.

“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!

Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.

"Nothing," you said simply.

There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.

"H-Hey—!"

Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.

Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.

You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.

"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."

Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.

You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.

At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.

Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.

"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."

"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.

Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.

"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."

It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage. 

"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors. 

You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."

Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one. 

Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.

"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"

Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now? 

"B-Baby, wait—"

"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest. 

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.

Something in his eyes had changed.

Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.

"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.

After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed. 

It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.

Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.

"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"

You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety. 

"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.

Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.

What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.

Its headline?

Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.

The worst part was the cover page.

It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.

And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.

The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.

Had he always been like this?

He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.

Why did he throw it all away? 

He agreed to keep things private. 

But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before. 

Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.

But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.

The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"

"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"

But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.

"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."

Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.

But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.

Were you ashamed of him? 

Of course you would be.

You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.

He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.

That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?

No, no, no!

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.

But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.

You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.

But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.

You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret? 

Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course. 

But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.

You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.

You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.

You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.

But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.

A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones. 

They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.

Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.

"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.

Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.

"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.

You had a few choices.

You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.

You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.

Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.

But you wanted to get out of there.

You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.

"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."

"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"

You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy. 

"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless. 

Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.

"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.

If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.

You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?

But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.

"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"

With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.

Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.

He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.

But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.

Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).

You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him. 

That made his mind wander.

Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.

He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.

"What for?"

The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.

"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"

Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them. 

"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"

"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"

The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.

Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?

You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.

"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"

Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.

Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."

Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"

Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.

You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back. 

And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.

You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you. 

“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”

You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.

“Now, onto the video!”

You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.

“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”

With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.

“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

[writeforfandoms]

State of My Head 2

Find the series masterlist

Okay I know this one isn’t as easy but I promise, I PROMISE, we are working towards a happy ending. It will be okay. Just stick with it.

Warnings: Brief suicidal thoughts, minor betrayal, hurt feelings, lots of hurt little comfort, Price is a bit of an ass, brief talk of cruelty to shifters.

Word count: 4.1k

You lasted four days. Four days of being stuck as a human, ferried from person to person. As far as you knew, nobody beyond the four of them were aware of what you were, and nobody else had been put in charge of you. They even locked you in a room overnight. 

Because they figured you were a flight risk. And they were not exactly wrong. 

Finally, though, bored with sitting in the office with Price while he completely ignored you and did paperwork, you gathered up the courage to ask. 

"Can I go see Gaz?"

"No." He didn't even look up, the bastard. You knew you'd been right not to trust him.

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance. Fine. You'd find another way to talk to Gaz. 

Shelving your annoyance, you focused your gaze on the captain again. He still refused to look at you, had barely given you the time of day since the confrontation. But his accusation had stuck with you. 

So, naturally, you decided to turn it back on him. 

"I could be a spy for you, you know." 

At that, he did finally look up, glasses perched on the end of his nose. "I don't trust you." While blunt, the words were not unexpected. 

"You won't trust me unless you have a reason to," you pointed out, quite reasonably. "So give me a reason. Give me something to do." 

"Why should I?" 

You shrugged, flopping backwards onto the couch to sprawl with your legs over one arm. "Because you don't want someone useless around? Because otherwise I will very quickly get bored? Because as much as I would love to lounge around and eat your food, I'd rather be useful and do something." 

Price stared you down, blue eyes intent. Then he snorted. "I'll think about it." And then he looked back down at his work. 

You nearly groaned, throwing one arm over your eyes. But. He’d said he’d think about it. Which was better than a flat-out no (which you had half-expected). Fine. You could deal with this. You could be patient. 

Dinner was quiet. Well. Quiet for you. Ghost was gone again - you’d discovered he often took meals in his room. Soap and Gaz talked between themselves, Gaz not even looking at you, Soap only sparing you glances. And Price kept to himself, eating quietly. 

It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but it was boring. 

So when Gaz stood, you did too, raising one eyebrow at him. He hesitated a moment before he nodded once, gaze flicking to his captain and back to you. 

Both of you were quiet as you walked outside. You had no idea how to do this tactfully. Best to just spit it out, then. 

"You're still mad at me." 

He glanced at you, gaze cold. But he didn't say anything. 

"I get it. Sort of. I lied." You shrugged. "But you were not supposed to know." 

"Is that supposed to make it better?" Gaz didn't look at you, instead taking a slow circuit around the building. 

"That's up to you." You wrinkled your nose. "I wanted to tell you. You're the first human I've wanted to tell." You smiled up at the slowly darkening sky. "But I have my family to think about." 

"Tell me about them." Gaz did finally glance at you, still cold, still closed off. But listening. 

"Mama is the matriarch, I suppose you could say. Rules the family. Wants all her kids to settle down with another shifter and have kittens." You shrugged. "I got lucky, I'm in the middle. It was easier for me to leave. We're the biggest family of shifters I've ever met." 

Gaz nodded slowly. "And nobody knows about you."

"There's the occasional trusted human." You shrugged. "One of my brothers got himself a human wife, last I saw. But no. We don't tell people, usually." 

"Is it that dangerous?" 

You considered how to answer his question, wetting your lips. "I had an aunt. My dad's younger sister. She was a leopard cat, like me. Had this brown spot on her chest. Distinctive." You touched your own chest to illustrate the placement. "Well, she decided she was going to make some friends. And she let slip what she was." You frowned down at the ground. "According to Dad, she got caught. They forced her to shift. And then they skinned her. Dad went looking when she stopped responding and found the pelt. Knew it was her because of the brown spot." 

Finally he looked at you, horror and sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

You waved the sentiment away. "That is why I didn't tell you. If I'd stayed voluntarily, gotten to know you better… well, I was tempted to tell you even before I shifted in my sleep." You tucked your hands in your pockets. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, or to not be mad at me. You're entitled to feel however you want. I just want you to understand my side of things." 

Gaz nodded once. And that was that. There was nothing else you could say to him, not until he decided what he wanted to do. You could faintly smell the indecision on him. 

Though you didn't know him well, you did know he was compassionate. Which would work in your favor, if he decided to forgive you. 

You nodded to him as he led you to your assigned room and stepped inside. The click of the lock was somehow less damning than usual. 

But you were still stuck in limbo for three more days. Three excruciatingly long, boring days, spent mostly between Price and Soap. 

Finally, though, Price set down his pen. "Still want to spy for me?" The words were rough and a little sarcastic. 

"Yes." You didn't waver, sitting up straight. 

"Fine. Come with me." He stood and you scrambled after him. He didn't look back as he led you across the base, over to a smaller building. "Let's see how you do." 

You blinked at him, and he motioned to the door impatiently. So you shifted, wiggling out of the clothes and stretching once. Oh but it felt so good to be back on four legs. Price huffed softly but pushed the door open for you. 

Your eyes adjusted quickly to the dark and you meandered. A few quick sniffs proved that this building was used often. So scents were out. 

Sound, however, carried just fine. You trotted further in, keeping out of sight as you listened. It didn't take you long to find two soldiers dutifully repeating a conversation. (You knew they were repeating it because you came in half-way through and listened long enough to realize what was happening.) 

You made your way through the rest of the building, trying to remember locations, turns, and what all they were saying. 

You trotted back out to Price once you were confident you'd gotten everything and shifted back, pulling on your clothes without prompting. 

"Well?" He raised an eyebrow at you, cigar held between his fingers. 

So you relayed everything you could remember to him, feeling rather proud of yourself. 

Price was silent for a few moments after you finished, blowing out smoke. "Not bad." 

"Not bad?" You repeated, blinking. 

"You missed a few keywords. And Ghost." Price smirked at you. 

You hissed softly, more at yourself than him. "Tell me." 

If he was surprised by your vehemence, he didn't show it. He just walked you through what you'd missed. 

That was your first day of training. You didn't have tasks every day, but when you did, you took it seriously. Praise was incredibly rare - the first word of praise you got from Price nearly had you shifting again to sniff for an imposter. 

But your favorite training days were with Gaz. He'd relaxed over time, more willing to talk. You practiced hide and seek with him, simulating mission conditions as much as possible. You liked hide and seek - he was clever and found increasingly challenging places to hide. 

The first time you turned it into a game of chase was an accident. You'd spotted him already, tail whipping side to side. 

He had a cloth hanging out of his back pocket. You didn't know what it was, but you were determined to steal it. 

You jumped up into the tree above him, waiting a few moments. But he didn't move, still watching below for you. 

Perfect. 

You crept closer to him, judging the distance, waiting for the right moment. 

And then you dropped past him, grabbing the cloth in your mouth as you dropped. He shouted, and you bolted as soon as your paws touched the ground. 

"Get back here!" He yelped, dropping out of the tree and giving chase. 

You darted between two soldiers, enjoying the shrieks from them as Gaz barreled towards them. Then you ran between buildings, up a tree, across a roof, and finally through the middle of a whole group of soldiers, half of whom ended up on the ground. 

Gaz dove on you from behind, and you chirped at him innocently. 

"You," he panted, "are a monster." But he took his cloth back with a grin. 

"We knew that," Price drawled, eyeing the soldiers on the ground. "Inside." 

You drooped a little with a sad little mrrp. Gaz tutted, waving you in. 

Well. Shit. You must have gotten in trouble somehow. Which rankled twofold: partly because you've been playing by their dumb rules, and partly because you should not care what these men think of you. 

(But part of you wanted to look to Gaz, wanted to rub your scent into his skin, wanted to drape across the back of his neck and blink and purr.) 

Gaz opened another door for you, and you blinked at Soap and Ghost already inside. Soap patted a chair, clothes already set out for you, and you trotted over before shifting back. 

"You wanted to work," Price said, the door shutting after him with a dull boom. Your head popped out of the shirt left for you, and you twisted to blink at him. "You're gonna get to work." 

"Really?" You blinked at him, lips parting in surprise. 

"Sit." 

You made a face at him but sat, curious. Price pulled up a map, holding it so you could see too. 

"Should be a simple op," he said. "We get dropped off here, our infil route is here." He pointed on the map. "Our objective is in this building, looking for any computers. You are going to go in and have a look around first." He fixed his gaze on you. 

"Okay." It didn't sound bad. Honestly, you weren't even scared. It sounded pretty straightforward. 

"Let's get to it, then." He stood, handing the tablet off to Ghost. 

Soap had to show you how to properly strap into the heli, and you gripped the handholds so tight your hands ached. 

"Not a fan of flying?" Ghost asked, clearly amused at your expense. 

"I'd rather keep my paws on the ground," you shot back, and then hissed at a bit of turbulence. You did not approve. At all. 

"Relax, you're not gonna fall out." Gaz looked amused too. Traitor. 

"Says the man who's fallen out twice," Soap piped up with a gleeful grin. 

"What?" The word felt a little punched out of you and you turned wide eyes to Gaz. 

"I'm fine," he dismissed, kicking at Soap. "He's just stirring up shit." 

You mouthed the phrase, thinking it through. Huh. Interesting. But you let it go, focused now on breathing and ignoring the squabbling happening just seats down from you. 

Somehow, you made it through the flight. As soon as the heli was down and Price gave you the go ahead, you were out and hiding up a tree. Still as a human, because you didn't want to risk the pilot seeing anything he shouldn't. But still. 

"Cat," Price called, amused and exasperated. 

"Right here." You relaxed on the tree branch, looking down at the men. 

Price sighed but apparently decided to pick his battles. "You remember the plan?"

"Go in, sneak around, look for computers and guards, and report back," you repeated dutifully. 

Price nodded. "Come straight back here." 

You grinned at him and shifted. It was easy to kick your clothes off so they fell to the ground. And then you followed them down, meowing softly at the group before you turned and trotted off, tail in the air. 

You had a job to do. 

For all your practice and for all your self-confidence, you were still surprised at how easy it was to get in. A window had been left open, giving you an easy in. You did wrinkle your nose at the smell of the bathroom, but that was brief. 

Next you looked for guards, noting numbers and positions. Much more carefully than you had on your first training round. You'd learned since then. 

Finally, computers. Four that you spotted, and a potential fifth tucked away into what looked like a break room. 

This really wasn't hard. Honestly, you were kind of surprised more shifters didn't do this. You could probably make a killing at it, if you were so inclined. 

You did have to run for cover once, but only once. Nobody raised an alarm or shot at you, so… that seemed like a success to you. 

You even managed to find a different window to get back out of, shaking yourself once you were back outside. 

It was not a long trot back to the team, and you sat in front of Price before you shifted back. 

They were getting used to that, finally. Soap only made a tiny strangled noise, and Gaz threw the shirt to you. 

"Four computers, possibly a fifth tucked away," you reported, pulling the shirt on but ignoring the pants for now. "In a break room, off of the main room. Two open windows, a bathroom and different multi-purpose room. I would not advise the bathroom window." You shrugged. "Guards were as expected, although there was one up in the rafters." 

Price nodded. "Good," he murmured, and even that bit of praise made you brighten. "Stay put. We'll be back shortly." 

"Okay." You watched them go. Gaz hesitated for a moment when he was even with you, but ended up simply dipping his head to you before he moved on. 

That would be good enough for now. 

Finally getting to your feet and pulling your pants on, you scaled the tree again. Might as well stay out of the line of sight, and see if there was anything interesting you could see. 

You might have gotten bored. And you might have climbed higher up the tree. And maybe hummed a little to yourself. 

But really, what did they expect? 

"Think she ran?" 

You nearly fell out of the tree when you heard Soap below you.

"Would be stupid to," Ghost grunted. 

"Do you mean me?" You hopped down to a lower branch, both curious and insulted. 

"There ye are!" Soap grinned up at you, though you could see the strain behind that smile. "Wondered where you'd got off to." 

"Just up here. Figured I was less visible." You dropped down to the ground slowly, glancing between the two almost nervously. 

"Aye, right. Come on. We're to meet Price and Gaz at exfil." 

You frowned a little bit didn't question it. Just started walking after Soap. 

Even though it meant getting back on the heli. 

Price spotted the three of you first and nodded to you, a flash of… something in his eyes and in his scent. 

But the look of faint surprise in Gaz's expression nearly crushed you. 

They'd expected you to run. 

You were silent the entire way back to base, head down, wedged into as small a ball as you could manage on the seat. If you weren't worried about falling out, you'd shift. 

This time, you didn't wait for the go ahead. You hopped out of the heli and went straight back to your room, ignoring the shout from Soap behind you. 

You needed to figure yourself out before anything else happened. 

Ignoring the growling of your stomach (shifting took a lot of energy and you really shouldn't shift so often without food), you shifted again as soon as you were safely in your room. Leaving the clothes crumpled on the floor, you crawled under the bed instead, pushing yourself back into a corner where you were protected. 

They didn't trust you. Even after all of this, after everything… they didn't trust you. You half expected it from Price and Ghost. They were paranoid bastards who didn't trust easily or often. 

But Soap? Gaz?

Those two hurt.

Especially Gaz. Because some part of you had never stopped identifying him as your person, at least in the privacy of your own mind. 

You curled your tail over your nose, despondent. You wanted to go home, for the first time in years. You wouldn't even complain about having to help with the kittens. You wanted people who understood you. Who made some kind of effort. 

Who gave a shit. 

Shivering a little, you closed your eyes. You were stuck here now, still, for better or worse. Probably for the rest of your life, considering how little they trusted you. 

You could try harder, you supposed. Do more work. Play less. 

But what kind of life would that be? You were a cat, not a dog. You had your own opinions and you were entitled to do some things your own way. 

You'd be damned if you let yourself crumble under these men who deemed themselves better than you. 

The door clicked as it opened, and someone took three steps into your room. 

"You didn't come to dinner." Gaz set a tray down on the floor, standing still. He was far enough from the door. If you wanted to, you could be past him and outside before he could get the alarm properly raised, be out of the compound before they could shoot you. 

But something held you there. The tip of your tail twitched, back and forth. 

"You did good, today," he continued slowly. "Just thought you should know. But Price is pissed - doesn't like you skipping debrief. Keep that in mind, I guess." 

More long moments of silence. You stared unblinkingly at his boots from your spot under the bed. 

Finally, Gaz sighed. "Good night, then." He turned sharply and shut the door behind him. 

The lock clicked. 

You crawled out from under the bed to nibble off the tray. 

Moonlight eventually filtered across the floor, and you jumped up to perch on the ledge of the window. You missed hunting. You missed nighttime wanders. You missed sleeping under the stars. 

Maybe all of this wasn't worth it. Maybe it never would be. 

Maybe you were a fool for leaving home at all. 

You didn't move from the window ledge all night. 

The next few days were a bit lethargic. You listened to Price's lecture in total silence and stillness. You followed the rules. You kept to yourself. 

Until Ghost was walking you to training. 

You shifted, squeezing yourself out through the neck of the shirt, and bolted up the nearest tree. Climbing as high as you dared, you lounged there, looking down at Ghost with imperious disdain. 

"I should shoot you," Ghost mused, glowering up at you. "Would serve you right." 

You flicked your tail at him, yawning just to show off your teeth. 

"Fine. You wanna stay there? Have it your way." Ghost shrugged and continued on to the training building. You watched him go with half-lidded eyes. 

To your surprise, it wasn't Price that came to get you. It was Gaz. 

"Hey," he murmured, reaching one hand up towards you. "C'mere." 

You leaned forward to sniff his fingers. He still smelled good. Relaxing, you dropped down a couple levels towards him, ears up and relaxed. 

"I'm sure this is a change for you," Gaz said, reaching slowly for you. When you didn't object, he picked you up and swaddled you in the shirt you'd been wearing. "But this is how it is now." 

You looked up at him, shocked. He'd used his knowledge against you. Intentionally lured you in, knowing that you responded to him better than anyone else. 

This wasn't a lie of omission. This was worse. 

You meowed at him, soft and hurt. 

"Don't you dare," he grumbled. "You brought this on yourself. You know the rules. You're lucky Ghost was in a good mood, or he would've shot you." 

Still better to be shot than be sent to a lab. But all this from Gaz? That hurt. Worse than you'd expected. So much worse. 

Apparently, this was to be your life now. 

Maybe you should try to get yourself shot. 

Gaz deposited you gently in front of Price, and then stood back with his arms crossed over his chest. 

You flubbed training. You knew you did. But… well, what was the point? 

You spent a few more days as a cat, refusing to shift back. That was at least the one thing you could still control. 

"Ach, take it easy on them," Soap murmured to you, nearly a full week later. "They're all loonies."

You huffed softly, adjusting to sprawl yourself across the back of his neck. He'd picked you up and carried you outside with him, but you'd eventually gotten tired of being carried and had moved to his shoulders. This was better. 

"It willnae be like this forever," he continued, lifting one hand to stroke the top of your head gently. "Just give 'em some time. Ye were doin' well before." 

You grumbled softly, not quite a growl but a displeased noise all the same. 

"Aye, ah ken," he murmured. "Ah ken." He sighed softly, stroking your fur. "If it ever gets so bad ye cannae stand it… talk to me. Aye?"

You blinked, uncertain how to properly agree. You settled on a soft meow and a tiny lick to his ear. 

"Good. Now! Ah figured we could scare the recruits. How d'ye feel about bringing a mouse into the showers?" 

Slowly, though, things got better. Price relaxed, about as much as the man ever did. Ghost stopped sounding like he was ready to murder you at the drop of a hat. Soap relaxed more, joking with you and playing. 

The only one to stay aloof was Gaz. And it hurt. 

But the more missions you went on, the more intel you got for them, the more they trusted you. Price relaxed the rules, giving you more free reign to shift and run around the base at will. 

They even stopped locking you in your room at night. 

So when the urge to hunt wouldn't leave, you opened the door and crept out into the hallway. Soft noises from the rec room drew your attention and you snuck over there to look. 

Price and Gaz were both seated at a little table, mugs of tea steaming gently. 

"...the usual," Gaz was saying softly. 

"I know." Price lifted a hand to rest on Gaz's shoulder, much more gently than normal. "You do what you can." 

"Yeah." Gaz breathed out slowly. "Yeah. It's not…" He paused, struggling. 

And you backed off. This was clearly a private talk. You didn't need to listen to this.

But it did give you an idea. 

Once outside, you shifted and dragged your clothes aside. And then you started hunting. 

It took a little while. But you found a good sized rat and even managed to kill it cleanly. 

Carrying the rat back inside was easy - you'd left the door open a little for yourself. 

Then you had to decide whether to leave it for Gaz or try to give it to him. Trying to give it to him came with the very real possibility of being rejected. 

Leaving it for him to find sounded much better. 

You trotted to his door and left the rat there for him. Not right in front of the door - you didn't want him to step on it. 

There. That was better. 

Feeling rather smug with yourself, you trotted back outside to shift again and throw your clothes on before sneaking back to your room. 

Gaz didn't bring it up at breakfast. Just smiled at you, just a little. But with a warmth that had been missing for a long time. 

(You wouldn't have even realized you were purring, quiet and low, except that Soap couldn't resist teasing you.)

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Homecoming (Chapter Ten)

Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye on you. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 2.8k Chapter Warnings - 18+ blog, passing mention of differences in familial status, slight secret relationship, discussions of dismissal/quitting jobs/workplaces and injustice, mentions of sex. Reader has a backstory and family but no physical descriptions. Notes - This has been a long time coming and for anyone still out there reading this, thank you and I hope it’s worth the wait. The past few months have been particularly tough IRL which has made writing Blue's work stresses pretty triggering and difficult and then made me weirdly superstitiuous about even opening the wip file. That said, the muse finally hit, I decided to fight my anxiety about it and here we are.

Previous | Series List | Next

You didn’t have a plan. Not really. Rather your plan was merely the rough semblance of an idea, a delicate decision tree that was completely reliant on people caring and wanting to do the right thing.  That, you realise now, may have been a mistake.

Frankly, Plan A had failed so long ago, you are probably somewhere around O or P in the alphabet now.

Whatever you had thought you would do though, it didn’t work. The best result you’ve negotiated, and one that was hard fought, is to have officially resigned, rather than be dismissed. Your time with that office and career aspirations are dead though.  

Sometimes that’s what happens. You live in a world where perhaps certain victories are pyrrhic, your heroes don’t always prevail - or, if they do, there’s a cost. It’s one you’d pay again. It was the right thing to do.

Only a sense of integrity doesn’t pay the bills or prevent awkward conversations with your family. You’re going to have move in with your parents again because Rafa won’t have room at his house. You need to think of a way to frame this to them all.

There’s been a cold spell in DC. You can feel it still ghosting the air as you take a sip of coffee, clutching the to-go cup tightly  between your hands. It’s a change to the humidity of Colombia, the familiar heat of Texas. You remember what it felt like you first moved here years ago and how novel the snow had seemed, how romantic thick jumpers and hot chocolate by a fireplace had felt.

You look over at the building ahead of you.

Javi won’t be long.

This is the last time you’ll be in front of this building, you’ve left it for the last time and that chapter of your life is truly over. You can barely remember who you were when you first stepped into those doors anyway.

You notice Javi leaving. You watch him loosen his tie as he leaves the building, making his way towards you.

“Hi,” you say gently. “All wrapped up?” You try and read any emotions on his face; whether his meetings went as smoothly as you hoped.

“All wrapped up,” Javi says, before kissing you deeply.

“Nice try to distract me,” you say, “but you didn’t tell me how it went.”

Javi groans into your neck. “Well, Spencer offered to make my resignation go away and for me to go to Mexico.”

“Mexico?” you ask, alarmed. Javi told you he couldn’t do this anymore, that he’d reached the end of his career with the DEA. Selfishly you have only just started this with him, you don’t want to  lose it yet, you don’t want a long-distance relationship just now.

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter note in his voice that signals there’s more to this, more to what was said than a simple job offer.

“What did you say?” Is it over already? Is it over before you and him even had a chance to really know what the two of you could be? Will Javi go to Mexico while you return to Laredo without a job, without him?

Practically, you will understand if he says yes. You might not agree - you don’t agree, but you won’t say that unless he expressly asks.

You steel yourself for his next words. This was just a fling, stress relief, a stress response even. It doesn’t mean anything to him. He hopes you can still be friends.

You will smile, you will agree. You will lie. 

Javi looks over at you quizzically, shifting his hand so he can entwine his fingers with yours. “I’m officially no longer a DEA employee. My - my time there is over.” 

Relief courses through you. “Oh. Are you alright?”

“Are you?” Javi asks.

You pause, leaning into Javi and his warm body. In all honesty, you’re not sure. It isn’t just the job, or loss thereof, and the way your time in Colombia bought up so many demons from before. It’s not that you’ve been directly involved, or even witnessed, the most terrifying aspects of Javi’s work or time in Colombia. It’s more that you’ve lost something.

You’ve lost that faith, that certainty in a system of justice, in checks and balances. You don’t believe like you used to. There’s this cynical edge to your thoughts, this sense of sadness and futility that justice isn’t what you thought it was.

You’re tired, burnt out and you have no clue what to do next.

But then there’s Javi.

 “I will be,” you say, pulling away from him before immediately reaching for Javi’s hand so the two of you can walk away from this building for the last time.

Together.

You thought you would show Javi the city you used to live in. There were coffeeshops, restaurants, walks you wanted to share with him. Moments to make together in this strange in-between time before you return to Laredo.

You’ve barely left your hotel room though. Restaurants were abandoned in lieu of room service fries, a club sandwich and salad. Strolls across tourist attractions have been discarded in favour of another kiss, another touch, another moment with Javi.

You tell yourself it’s because who knows when you’ll have time like this again. You tell yourself your feelings and this situation are completely under control.

Either way, the two of you are insatiable. It could be the relief of there being a firm line between Colombia and now, it could be making up for lost time.

Javi is the best thing the year has bought you so far. He makes it all worthwhile. You’re sure of that, even if the thought scares you.

You lean back against the pillow, as you try and catch your breath.

“How long do we have?” you ask.

“Until our flight?” Javi asks, kissing down your neck to your collarbone. “We need to check out in a couple of hours and then we’ve got a changeover in Dallas, but we should land before its dark.”

“Okay, I should go pee, clean up a bit,” you say, sitting up. “Water?”

“Water,” Javi confirms, placing a hand over his head as he collects himself. You like looking at him like this; the way the hotel room light hits his skin, still glistening with sweat, the look in his eyes, the way his hair is slightly undone and curls at the ends.

You get out of the bed, tugging a hotel robe around you as you walk to the bathroom. When you return, you pour two glasses of water and hand one to Javi as you sit back on the bed.

“So,” you say, before taking a sip of your water.

“So,” Javi repeats slowly, looking you over with care and concern. “Have you -” he falters.

You look at him curiously. “What, Javi?”

“Are you - are you coming back here? Or Austin? Or - are you sticking around?”

It never occurred to you. For all your anxieties about Javi leaving you for another job, you never thought he’d have the same worry about you.

“Well, the good thing is that even a town like Laredo probably needs a lawyer or two.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You nod and watch the way his face softens. His smiles are rare, but they’re so worth it. They light up his whole face, make an already attractive man even more attractive.

“I think I need a change though and maybe I can at least figure that out back in Laredo.”

“That’s good. Are you ready for this?”

You make a face. You’re starting to think you would rather spend your time grappling with legal systems and international diplomacy than this. “To move back in with my parents with no job? Oh Javi, absolutely not.”

An unwelcome thought suddenly hits you. What do you tell your families about you and Javi? It’s still so new and you’re still figuring out what any of it means. Part of you is worried that without the connection of Colombia, of work, maybe he won’t want you for much longer. Maybe it’s not enough to make something real.

“Do we tell people back home about us yet?” you ask. “I mean, do you want to? Or do we .. should we just keep this for us for a bit? Figure everything out?”

“What do you want to do, Blue?”

“I don’t know,” you reply honestly. There’s been so much change, so much anxiety. Javi’s been this amazing bubble and you know you feel something strongly for him. You know it feels like it could be something. You’re used to decision trees as a lawyer; you feel like you know where this is heading, you like that direction to.

You like who you are with Javi. So why are you scared to say that right now?

You stare down at your glass of water, wishing you could craft the right legal argument, the right way forward.

“We’ve got time, Blue,” he says calmly, “That’s something the two of us definitely are going to have right now in Laredo.”

“Well, I will. Didn’t you say you were going to help your Pops. Be a rancher?” You raise an eyebrow at the thought of that. It’s an appealing image though, you can’t lie. Javi all sweaty and working hard, you remember that day in Curacao and how he looked in the pink shirt after running around the town.

“We can figure this out on our own time,” he says, “I want to. I don’t want this to end right now though.”

“Neither do I.”

“So we’re agreed on that?”

You nod.

Javi leans over you, taking the glass from your hands and moving you so he’s on top of you. “Well, we’ve still got some time before we need to check out.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Laredo, TX

It feels like déjà vu. Another party in Laredo, another homecoming where it sounds like a success but feels like a failure. Another day of standing around the people Javi grew up with and feeling like a stranger.

He’s changed. Colombia’s changed him again and again and again.  He thinks it’s something he has to wear; a solid, distinguishing marker of who Javi once was and who he has become. Before and After Colombia.

Laredo hasn’t changed much in the last year. His father’s home is almost exactly the same. It’s reassuring somehow; this stalwart unchanging community. His dad is driving the same truck, his room is the same as he left it.  Everything even smells the same.

Time stops then starts again.

The prodigal son has returned once more. Javi supposes at least he’s here sooner than last time, at least his Pops can see he’s trying.

He is trying. He’s been trying for so long.

He’s home and he’s not sure what difference he’s made at all, a point only made more obvious when Mike Spencer confirmed that his fear the cartels Javier and his team had helped bring down were nothing in the grand scheme of things.

He’s failed. He couldn’t put it right. It’s why he went back after all - though if he’s honest he didn’t know how to do anything else.

He doesn’t know how to do anything else.

It’s not for him now though- he’s done. Javi’s given it all. It feels like he’s been sucked dry by the DEA over the past decade. He has nothing left to give them.

It’s not all terrible though - he looks over at you. You are the impossible bright side in all of his mess.

Officially this party is a joint welcome home and

He takes a sip of his beer as he watches you in the corner of his eye. You’re dancing in the garden with your niece, smiling widely and laughing.

You meet his eyes and he notices the smile; the way your eyes widen for just a second, the smile he’s never seen before. Not before you and him became something else anyway.

You take his breath away.

He wants to walk over to you straight away, to take you in his arms and just be reminded that you’re real, you’re here. He wants to kiss you and lead you straight to your bedroom, to taste you, have you, to know you again and again.

He knows so much more about you now; the way your body feels, the way you like to be kissed, touched, fucked. He knows how you sound when you wake up in the morning, the way you take your coffee each day. He knows you. In the past weeks, he’s taken to wanted to commit every detail of your body to his memory, just in case.

He can’t approach you though. Not now. Not here. Not yet.

Rafa pulls up the chair next to Javi. “It’s good to have you back, Javi.”

“Good to be back,” Javi replies automatically.

“Are you sticking around for a while?”

“I think so. Pops could do with some help on the ranch.”

Rafa raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t think - I mean, that’s great, Javi. So, you’re done with the DEA?”

“Yeah, it was time to make a change.”

“Well, I guess once you’ve taken down two cartels, it’s hard to know where to go next,” he replies wryly. Javi’s always liked that about Rafa; he’s quick thinking and smart. He knows how to put people at ease too. Javi supposes that’s an important part of being a doctor, especially being the family doctor in a town like this.

He’s sleeping with Rafael’s sister. While the two of you were in Colombia, or DC, he could forget that so easily. You were just Blue to him. You are just Blue to him.

Only you’re also his friend’s sister and in a small community like this, he’s not sure how this will be received. He’s not sure how Rafa will really feel about the two of you. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Rafa quite as much as he did before he went to Colombia.

It's not just that. Standing there in your parents' home, he's struck by the differences between your families. It's not featured in his friendship with Rafa, but there's no denying your family is a different type of affluent to his own. The ranch does well, his Pops runs it really well, but your family is doctors and lawyers and businessmen. He's not sure where he stands in contrast.

It makes sense now, why you asked that question of him in DC. Why you’d wondered aloud about whether they should tell people straight away. At first, he’d thought you were having second thoughts.

He gets it now.

“Was my sister okay out there?” Rafa asks.

“We didn’t spend much time together. Different departments.” A story you’ve agreed, but he hates this already. He wants Rafa to know what you’re like, how good at your job you are.

“Oh. Did you try and keep an eye on her?”

“When I saw her? Yes. But Rafa, she was more than capable of looking after herself from what I saw.”

“I know. I’m just glad she’s home. Glad you both are. Everyone was proud, but - I know my parents worried about her, know your pops worried about you.”

Before Javi can add anything else, you walk over with Sofia who is keen to head inside and regale her abuela with exactly what she’s been up to.

“I spent most of my time on the other side of the embassy at Medellin,” you say smoothly, looking around before leaning against the porch post. “Lots of paperwork and calls.” Javi hates how you play down your impact, of what you did and how you really helped.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you say easily, your eyes meeting Javi for just a second. There’s a slight smile in your expression, almost imperceptible but Javi sees it.

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are back safe.”

“Me too.”

“Would have been nice if you’d worked together though. I mean what were the chances? Two people from Laredo in the same place.” Kismet, that’s what you called it one day, right? That’s what Javi sees it as now.

Rafa looks over to the inside of your parents’ home. “I should go check on Sofia, see you in a bit, Javi. It’s good to have you home.”

It’s just the two of you on the porch now.

“So …” you begin with a soft smile. “Enjoying the party?”

Javi shakes his head. “It’s kind, but -”

“I know.” He knows you do too.

He stands up and moves to look out from the porch, standing next to you. His hand is so close to yours and he notices how you subtly move so your hands are touching.

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Tag List

Secret Smile tag-list @joelsgreys @sullyosully @catsickyellow @spishsstuff @casa-boiardi @living-for-jesus-and-telenovelas @pastelnap @babeincolor @iamskyereads @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk

If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs.

[theladykassia]

Stephen Glass ੈ✩‧₊˚

Blurb: You're in need of comfort

Content: This is how I think he'd react if you're crying. Fluff.

  Alright, we all know this anxious, lying, whimpering mess for a man is emotional asf.  Let's imagine this takes place several months after the whole scandal caused by Stephen himself, he was fired, everybody knew he fabricated Hack Heaven and most of his best articles. On top of that, his former buddies from work had decided he was practically dead to them. However, you and Stephen were sorta dating before all of this, probably had this cute dynamic where the both of you got shy whenever you were close to each other in the office which was pretty much daily, since you also worked for The New Republic.

  When the scandal occurred you were the only one that stayed by his side, although you had cursed him out for being so damn stupid and irresponsible.

  One day, someone from the office found out that you were in fact, dating Stephen after everything he did. And even though you were a clean reporter, always telling the truth and only using information from sources that were reliable and easily verifiable, suddenly everybody was against you too. They were accusing you of being just like Stephen, putting your credibility and reputation at risk. Which was bs because you've been part of The New Republic before Stephen even joined them. And your personal life was supposed to be that, personal. As reporters they were supposed to be unbiased, but apparently for this they weren't.

You let them investigate for two weeks, not telling Stephen about it because you knew he'd probably break down like he always did. And as much as you loved him, you weren't in the mood to deal with that just yet.  

  When your colleagues approached filled with shame and acknowledged you weren't lying, you had decided to quit and you did it using a rather... colourful language. Because fuck them.

  Overwhelmed with everything that had happened, you got back to the shared apartment where Stephen was reading something on the computer. He wasn't allowed to report, but you had convinced him to try writing fiction, or a young adult drama, whatever he wanted really. And he listened. He happened to be really good at it too, which wasn't surprising since he had such a wonderful imagination. 

  You stand there, admiring your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was furrowing his brows a bit, for a moment taking off his glasses to clean them with a microfiber cloth. He happened to take good care of everything that was his-- you included. And glasses were expensive, he wasn't about to use a random shirt and risk fucking them up. 

  When he feels your presence he speaks, his nose almost too close to the computer as he tried reading something.

  "Hi baby! Did you have a good day at work?"

  You try not to, but as soon as you sniffled and his big blue eyes focused on you with panic and confusion, you began sobbing. The action was enough for Stephen to clumsily get up from the desk and stumble his way towards you. 

"W-what-- why are you crying? W-w-what happened?! Baby what the hell happened?! Please talk to me" he begged, embracing you tightly. Seeing you so distraught only brought tears to his own eyes. Stephen almost immediately began rocking the two of you, wanting to calm you-- and himself. "Was it work? Was-- was it m-me...? Did I do something? Please tell me!!"

  He's not the best at this, being an anxious mess with legs himself, but Stephen would do everything in his power to not freak out more than he already did when he first saw you. 

  He would sit with you when you begin to calm down, and as you tell him everything he'd be nodding his head. Sometimes his eyes would not meet yours, feeling ashamed because once again the mistakes that he made kept making a comeback to further damage not only his, but your life as well.

  He would profusely apologize to you, and would try to not complain about how this was his fault because even when it sorta was, he was focusing on you and not himself. He would not make this about himself. 

  Stephen would be ten times clingier and take care of every single one of your needs. You want to change the tv? He'll do it. Want some water? He's stumbling to the fridge already. You're staring a bit too much at the chocolate on the newest add? He's putting his coat on, planning to make a trip to the store and get one. He would tell you he loves you over and over again. He'd do this almost to the point of it being annoying, but one look at his pretty blue eyes and you know he means well, that he's trying to support you the way you would do for him.

[iridescentdove]

RIZZING CHUUYA.

chuuya nakahara x @theninthholder (rae)

A/N: Here is a small gift for my newest friend, Rae! I hope you love this as much as I enjoyed making it <3

It was not a very quiet day, for sure ...

CHUUYA for once – did not expect this to happen. Okay look, he loved his girlfriend dearly. With all of his heart, he'd almost literally give up his life in the Port Mafia for her because she was just so ... endearing to him.

Yet he was not prepared for RAE to straight up walk into his office casually and begin flirting.

Awkward enough, his face was already flushed from the amount of affection he was receiving – but still, how would you expect him to stay still?! She was teasing him so much ...

"H- Hey, what are you doing?!" CHUUYA exclaims, his face almost the same color as his hair. He was sat in his chair, hat in his hands as RAE came up close ...

She smiles down at him innocently. He was silently praying she wouldn't have gotten any closer – well after all, his heart had begun beating faster the moment she kept getting closer. He is very close to being absolutely deceased. Yet, the ginger couldn't help but admire RAE up close ...

She's the embodiment of perfect.

Simple flaws didn't matter. And instead, that's what made humans – her life, most endearing to him.

"Hey~ you know ..." She leans down, her dark, mesmerizing brown eyes staring into his own blue ones. He almost felt shy if that was the case.

CHUUYA still refused to pull his eyes away, however. Why would he even do that? His girlfriend was obviously, too pretty to look away from. She was grinning at him, albeit a little teasingly, but still rather cute.

"Even if there was no gravity on earth, i'd still fall for you."

With the obviously pun-intended pickup line, RAE held in a small laugh at his reaction. The tip of his ears also turned red, and he felt his own stomach began fluttering with butterflies – a warm feeling that spun itself into his heart.

Good God, is this what it felt like to be flirted with? Well, for once, he wasn't complaining one bit.

RAE leans down a bit more, remaining with a smile.

"Your face is really red, Chuu. Just like my heart, in which, beats endlessly for you and craves your love." Feelibg confident, she loved seeing his face whilst flirting – reaching up ever so slightly to caress his head.

And well, whose complaining? CHUUYA is just that hot, man. Even his girlfriend, well especially her, wouldn't be able to resist. His heart pounds – looking up at her with slightly parted lips. He looks down again, in embarrassment. "What's gotten into you?"

She merely coos at his adorable expression, pulling away a bit. "Nothing, i'm just falling so hard for you." Nonchalantly, RAE hears a slight groan come out of his lips.

But she knew damn well he was enjoying this.

And well – what's flirting without rizzing up the man. She wiggles her eyebrows with a suggestive expression, and leans in towards his ear ...

"Are you my future? Because my parents always tell me to focus on you."

NOT THE PARENTAL RIZZ

CHUUYA just sighed, grabbing her hand – deep blue eyes drifting over her entire face. He admired it, really. Despite how flustered he seemed from the flirting, he always found her beautiful no matter how she did it.

Silently, he says nothing as he pulled RAE into his lap, his chin finding itself resting on her shoulder. Work can just wait.

She didn't expect the sudden display of affection, and found her own cheeks turning red slightly. Although feeling a bit awkward now that her advances were taken against her.

Oh, but did she like it? Absolutely.

CHUUYA just felt a small smile curl upon his lips, as he kept her in his arms without a single word. Yet, he didn't need to. His actions have spoken loud enough to be heard. And RAE had understood it more than anything.

"Now, shut up and let me kiss you." He held onto both of her upper arms, flipping her over with care. She seemed to be somewhat taken aback by this comment – questioning herself whether it was simply a pickup line ... or if he would kiss her.

Heat creeps up to RAE's cheeks as he felt him lean closer. So it was the latter, after all. The executive chuckles quietly, his voice deep and somewhat – raspy, yet gentle.

He kept holding onto her yet, slowly using his free, gloved hand to cup her cheek. His eyes glint down at her playfully.

"You won't get out of this one, darlin'."

[thevelria]

A diary from 1920 (SFW/husband!gangster!Gojo x fem!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let me present the surprise shot which I wrote to my lovely followers. It's a lovely, sweet story about an undying love!

Warnings: mentions of war and scars.

Wordcount: 1580

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fighting back her tears, Claire tried to organize your belongings in the attic. In the midst of dusty boxes, cobwebs and insane mess she tried to stay strong. You passed away only a few months ago. As she tried to lift an old box it suddenly burst open. After a loud thud she noticed several books wrapped into black lace cloths. 

They were your diaries. Claire seemed really surprised because you never told her of ever writing a diary. The past always appeared to be vague, even mysterious. Every single time she tried to get answers you waved and smiled at her “Dear, it’s been so long since I don’t even remember.” Which was a lie of course. You did remember every single minute you spent with your husband. The way you built your family and your empire in the underground. But you two made an oath the second all the business became legal. The past needs to stay hidden.  

Your granddaughter was more than eager to finally be able to dig into every secret she yearned to learn about for so long. 

“The weather was freezing cold today in the market. I was afraid I would lose some of my fingers. Winters have been truly cruel in the past few years. Even if I rubbed my hands from time to time and wore my thick, fluffy gloves it didn’t help at all. I was busy warming my catty hands when a man walked up to my stand. His husky voice snapped me back to reality and suddenly I didn’t know how to react. Then I looked at him. Oh my God those eyes! Those marvelous eyes that glow in ocean blue! He asked for some veggies, nothing more. Graciously he thanked me for the service and also left me a generous tip which made me a bit suspicious. I didn’t understand how a rich man like him handles his own shopping.

London,22.11.1920.”

“In the last two weeks Saturo came to my stand every single day. He bought something I bet he didn’t even need. We chatter more and more. I find him adorable and I might even like him. Two days ago he invited me out for coffee and I accepted it without hesitation. He talked about the time he had spent in the army in WWI. During the war he served in France and lost many of his comrades. To this day he is plagued by nightmares, so he can’t sleep too much. He preferred to be buried in work. However, he didn’t reveal much about it. It’s as mysterious as if you want to keep quiet about something. He said there was a bar downtown that he owned. On the weekend he will take me there to have some fun.”

Claire read the lines at such a pace that it was hardly possible to follow what was happening. You began dating Satoru, her grandpa. And even if you were spending more and more time together you still didn’t know what your lovely man was doing. Years later, the source of the money was still shrouded in mystery, even if you were married. Those days were different. Today it is almost impossible to imagine a marriage like this. Not knowing what your husband does for a living? But back then…it was just different. You followed the rules of the society and kept your thoughts to yourself. After reading the umpteenth worn diary, the ice finally broke. 

“One evening some of Satoru’s friends, or rather business associates, came over to our home. When he has guests I’m never allowed near his office room. He says he doesn’t want me to be burdened with the unpleasant troubles of business. But that day I couldn’t help my unceasing curiosity. I sneaked around and started eavesdropping. At first I thought I misheard something. They talked about gambling, weapons and late shipments. I stood there as if my body had been frozen to stone. Even if I wanted to leave I couldn’t move. Then I heard the creaking of chair legs, I knew they were about to leave the room. So I took a deep breath and walked hurriedly to our bedroom. That night I laid sleepless next to him. The next morning I gathered my courage and asked him what I had heard. I just learned that my husband was an influential man in the underground. A gangster. Satoru committed so many crimes that he could face hundreds of years in prison. Or they would just hang him. I felt sick as he kept revealing different stories about the business. After letting him finish he seemed relieved, because he finally felt free. He claimed he wanted to tell me the truth a long time ago but he was afraid I would leave him. I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind. In the end however, I stayed. Why? Because I love him! And nothing can separate us! Nothing!

17.10.1926”

Claire put down the diary for a second, blinking fast and trying to process what she just read. “Grandpa was a gangster? Holy shit! That’s dope.” she thought before grabbing the next book. 

“Sakura was born a few weeks ago. She’s so sweet and tiny, such a lovely little princess. Satoru is already in love with his daughter. I can see the sparks in his eyes every time he lifts her up. When he hugs her or plays with her. At that time he’s not a criminal, a villain, no. Then he’s just a father who adores his child. And it’s not a lie that he’s the best husband in the world. Attentive, kind, caring and passionate. He never lets me feel like there’s something more important than Sakura or me.”

“It’s been years since he passed away and I didn’t even want to write a diary anymore. But we lived a decent life together and I want our love to get an ending. So for the last time I will write down my thoughts.

That night Satoru promised to take me to our favorite restaurant for dinner. Just the two of us. We needed some quality time together. The meal was delicious and we had so much fun. Even after all these years I was still in love with my husband. I loved all his silly jokes he told me and I laughed at them just as if I'd heard them for the first time. He seemed so proud when he made me laugh and I found him adorable. 

On the way home we walked hand in hand. We chatted about sweet nothings when he took a deep breath and said he changed his mind about his job. He assured me that everything would soon be legal. He just needed some time to sort it out. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so happy. Everything seemed perfect!

Then, out of the blue, we heard the sound of a deafening siren. Everyone started to panic on the street. We didn’t know then what we know today. For us, that was the moment World War II began…

Things really got out of hand and in a few days Satoru was saying goodbye. “Everything will be fine. I’ll be back soon.” he said. I can still hear his voice as I think about this. He tried to appear strong and calm. But he was terrified, because he knew what awaited him, since he had already survived a war. He gave me a kiss, hugged Sakura and walked out the door. 

Years have passed without hearing anything from him. But I didn’t lose hope, he promised me he was coming back to me. We heard rumors that the war finally came to an end, but Satoru still didn’t appear. I was worried and desperate. I wanted my husband more than anything. One day, I remember that day clearly, someone knocked on the door in the middle of the night. And there he was, my sweet and beautiful man. He dropped all of his stuff and hugged me so tight I thought he was going to break my bones. We both cried without saying a single word. After he came in and we walked to the living room I noticed his face was covered with scars. Later I found out his whole body was covered with them. Satoru told me what happened to him, but I don’t want to write it down. I don’t want to remember the feeling his story caused me. I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. My husband went through hell. 

With the end of the war things were getting settled down and we started to rebuild the empire. I was a partner in everything and I never asked any questions. I think it was around the birth of the twins when we finally were able to turn every business legal. From that point both of our lives changed. Happy, calm life…that’s what we had. For me Satoru was and will ever be the only one. And even if I miss him terribly I know he’s waiting for me and one day we’ll meet again. Because even death cannot tear us apart.”

Claire got to the end of the diary. There were no more notes, no more stories. She closed the book with teary eyes and placed it among the others. “I will keep your secret, grandma.” she whispered. 

[booiiee]

Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) × Female Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hyunjae is WHIPPED, They bicker- a LOT, they love each other so much, it's pathetic actually, eventual smut (duh), separate tags and warnings for smut in the smut chapter. MINORS DNI!!

For @un-love 🩷🩷

-------

Chapter 1

It's summer of 2024 you've just shifted your whole life to Brooklyn New York, a decision that you and your friends and family had to all collectively take, Brooklyn is expensive and people are rude sometimes but for the first time you're building your life

You love your job, not a lot of therapist can say that specially with how taxing the job can be, but you really love your job, you're one of the most loved therapist at Brooklyn's biggest hospital NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital (yes i googled that) and let's just say you earn enough to have an entire studio apartment to yourself, something that you've come to realize, you love.

Your job is many things but it is not a job where you have a lot of free time, it might even be busier than working at a fashion magazine like your friend Daisy does,some days she is the only reminder of your life back in your home country, and your love for kpop and a certain kpop idol- Lee Jaehyun from The Boyz.

“Miss Rose, the director wants to see you.” your thoughts were interrupted by your assistant Liz- or Elizabeth, informing you of your rather sudden meeting with the director. Now the old Jasmine would absolutely lose it over being called by the director but moving to a place like Brooklyn from India has made you indifferent to these small anxiety triggering things.

To say that you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The director had assigned you a patient of your busy (lazy) colleague, some VIP, whose case was “of utmost importance” to the hospital, which in itself was making you angry as if one life was worth more than the other. Nonetheless, you were gonna treat this patient like any other patient.

“Hi, Mr. Eric? I am Dr. Rose. I am taking over your case as of today, as informed. Please follow me this way” you introduce yourself to a tall man with freshly dyed brunette hair with a mask. He must be some high profile person given the way he was avoiding the stares from people.

R- You can keep the mask on until you feel comfortable to talk without them, our session can happen without you having to show your face.

E- Oh that is a relief thank you doctor.

R- So tell me Eric, what do you love doing when you are the most stressed and when you have a lot of leisure time?

E- Oh I thought you’d start with asking me my sickness

R- You say sickness like it is a bad thing

E- Is it not?

R- Well being sick is not great but it is not something derogatory.

*No one is born a patient and no one stays a patient till the end*.

*(From Daily dose of Sunshine)

As far as the questions go, if you’d rather me start with discussing your diagnosis, i am happy to do so

E- No its…its okay we can do your method.

I am skipping the actual therapy part because I am neither a licensed therapist nor a psych student to be writing that.

The 3 weeks you were assigned Eric’s case you found that against your better judgment, you guys were becoming almost friends, which is to say was weird in more ways than one. You were his therapist and you did not know what he looked like. You never asked him to take off his mask. He never mentioned why he prefers to wear one. So you decided you’d start and stay away from him in the hospital corridors when you often bump into each other after his session with your colleague.

E- I know we are not supposed to be friends and all that protocol, but you have really helped me in ways i could never explain and i am not the best person when it comes to gifts but i asked my friend j and he suggested this since you like to read- i've seen all those books in your office

Your gasp was audible to not only Eric but a few staff around as he pulled out a blue box. Eric quickly pulled you aside and for the first time, took off his mask.

R- You’re THE Eric?????

E- I mean I dont really say that about myself but i think you know me? Which is even better, so you know that i can afford this and im not robbing a bank for this gift, which also is not the case cause J bought this really-

R- Wait, I WILL not accept that, and give me a minute Wow! okay.

Eric, hi, I love your music and you'd understand when i say how weird this is to know my patient is a member of the group i love

E- aww doc you’re a fan. That makes me wanna be your friend even moore

R- Yeah, we’re gonna…we’ll talk about that later.

Wait, you're Eric from TBZ, so your friend J who often drops you to your session, the one who bought this SUPER EXPENSIVE gift, is J, Jaehyun? As in, Lee Jaehyun?

E- Yup you got that right! The one and only! In Fact he is on his way up, now that you’ve seen me, we can all talk comfortably

R- Oh No… no no, NO.

E- But why? Do you not like Hyunjae? *Gasp* Are you a hyunjae antiii??

R- WHAT???? NO! I could never hate my Hyunjae! not in this lifetime for suree!!!

“Well that’s good to know, Miss Rose”

You could identify that voice in a room full of noisy people, let alone the silence of the corridor, so you had no choice but to tun around and see a curly haired masked man smiling at you. Oh this is not good for your job.

-----

Chapter 2 will be posted super soon!!

[qqueenofhades]

i think a lot of people see it as 'why should we praise him for doing things he's supposed to do' which feels like such a misunderstanding of the point to me? no one is saying give biden a gold star and expect nothing else of him, but rather....pointing out good things helps to spread the word about them, helps keep people informed about what he is doing, and also tells him where our priorities are and where to continue expanding. there are so many people who think biden's done absolutely nothing in office because they don't know what he has done, because the left is so obstinately against celebrating any modicum of progress if it isn't far left enough. i hate it

"Why should we praise him for doing things he's supposed to do?" is just another bad-faith way of saying "there's nothing he'll ever do that will ever be good enough for us." Especially when they don't even ACKNOWLEDGE that he has done the good things at all, much less praise him for them! Which in turn feeds into the self-reinforcing feedback doom loop that "he has done nothing," demoralizes blue voters and energizes red voters, and otherwise self-sabotages any accurate assessment or information about the very good and very major things that ARE getting done, because a bunch of holier-than-thou Twitterati did not deem them Sufficiently Pure! These things are not easy to get done and actually yeah, WE SHOULD PRAISE THEM WHEN THEY HAPPEN! Not least because most people respond better to positive feedback than constant grinding negativity!

As I've said before, it's fundamental to these people's identity that they are Better Than The Democrats, regardless of anything or anyone, and so they can't ever even admit that a Democrat did something right, because that might mean they agree with them and there is actually a point in engaging in the voting/civic progress. So they just complain, carp, and endlessly sabotage us by spreading deliberate misinformation to both Democratic-leaning and mainstream voters, and when that happens, in American elections that are habitually and maddeningly so close between R/D and decided by a few percentage points, the fascists always, ALWAYS come out on top.

[kairbun]

[4]"The Forgotten Experiment"

Vanessa Shelly x Hybrid bunny!Fem reader

Description:One rainy night, Y/N is able to escape from the lab where she has been held as a test subject for most of her life. Drenched and alone in the dark and stormy night, she makes a run for it, searching for shelter.

By chance she stumbles upon an abandoned, old building that was once called "Freddy Fazbear's", and takes refuge inside it. There she is found by Officer Vanessa, who soon realizes Lumi is no regular stray, and decides to help her and take her in.

Warning:

After a while, someone else entered the room. Metallic steps and movements could be heard just outside the door. I knew immediately that it was another monster. The footsteps stopped and when I dared to look up, I saw a blue creature... a rabbit? My eyes widened in surprise.

At first his eyes were furiously red. But as he looked at me closer, the red of his eyes changed. He looked at me as if he was surprised to see me moving my ears. He tilted his head to the side a little... which seemed like he was trying to understand me. He turned his gaze towards the yellow monster and began gesturing with his hands. This seemed to cause the yellow monster to loosen its grip on my leg. I took a shallow breath of relief as my leg was released.

I looked at the rabbit with new interest. The rabbit looked at me as if he knew he had done something good. He blinked his eyes at me all the time. After a while, however, the yellow monster caught the rabbit's attention and started gesticulating.

Realizing that having my clothes soaked again by dirt from the floor rather than rain is repulsive. So I decided to sit down slowly on the floor, so as not to anger the monsters by standing up suddenly. I can still feel the gaze of that giant ball with two prongs...it's scary how it looks with those piercing eyes. I flinch a bit and then return my attention to the two larger ones towering above me, they show signs of intelligence and... understanding. At least in a rabbit. I began to wonder if he did it to help me... escape? he finally said something to the yellow monster to let go of my leg, so there must be something to it...right?

I hear more metallic footsteps approaching the door. However, the two larger monsters are still above me and I can't see what's coming. When they turn to see who it is, they automatically move away from me, making room for something or someone else.

Then I hear a human voice. Or more precisely, women.

"What kind of gathering is this... here?" I see him looking at me with surprise and anger? I start to get scared and quickly look back at the floor. Too many things happening at once, too many creatures and unexpected events.

"How did you get here?!" As a police officer, Vanessa was used to dealing with criminals and people who tried to get into places they weren't supposed to be. She felt irritated because there are signs in front of the building saying "No Entry" and this was yet another person entering the building.

“It's private property. No one should be here,” Vanessa said sharply, trying to be more authoritative in order to maintain order. The woman started walking towards me at a slightly faster pace, but when she tried to grab my wrist, I quickly backed away until I felt a wall behind me blocking me.

“Stop defying the authorities or you will receive a much harsher punishment in custody,” Vanessa said, trying to grab my wrist again.

I felt a surge of fear as I realized the situation I was in. I was cornered and had no choice.

Suddenly, the blue rabbit interjected by grabbing Vanessa's arm, stopping her from grabbing me. She looked first at the rabbit's paw, then at its face.

"What is it, Bonnie?" Vanessa asked the rabbit, showing a mixture of confusion and surprise. She wasn't sure what the rabbit was trying to communicate, but it was strange to see the rabbit get involved in the situation.

Bonnie starts pointing at his ears with his other paw, moving them. He looks at Vanessa to confirm that he means my ears, then points to me.

I see Vanessa's expression change from confusion to understanding. She slowly takes a step back, as if only now realizing the situation. She looks at me again, noticing the ears on my head.

— Vanessa POV —

In this situation, Vanessa felt not only embarrassed, but also confused and a little anxious. It was the first time she had seen a human with animal parts and she wasn't quite sure how to react. The rabbit's actions confused her and she wasn't sure what to make of it all. She had doubts about trusting a stranger, even if he seemed harmless and cute.

I crouch down next to the stranger when I notice that she flinches at my movements, almost as if she's feeling anxious or afraid. I immediately raised my hands in a sign of peace, wanting to assure him that I meant no harm.

"Hey, sorry, that was rude of me," I said in a more friendly tone. I wouldn't want her to react to me the way she does now.

The tension in the room continued as I tried to defuse the situation. The stranger seemed surprised, and her eyes darted from me to the animatronics behind me. Vanessa sensed her anxiety and realized that her authoritative approach only made her fear worse.

The stranger, clearly nervous, hesitated before carefully looking into my eyes. The atmosphere remained tense, full of unspoken questions and uncertainty.

“Hey, everything's fine. I won't hurt you," I said gently, trying to convey certainty in my tone. I recognized the need to approach the situation differently, to suppress the fear emanating from the stranger.

The rabbit girl's eyes showed a mixture of confusion and distrust, but she slowly relaxed her posture and her body language softened just a little. It was a small step, but I felt a glimmer of progress.

Bonnie, the blue rabbit, stayed close and watched the interaction closely, as did the other animatronics. His ears twitched occasionally, as if he was attuned to something beyond their immediate surroundings.

I kept a safe distance, careful not to make any sudden movements that could scare the girl even more. I knew trust had to be earned, especially in such a bewildering situation.

“Listen, I'm not here to cause trouble,” I continued, choosing my words carefully. “I just need to understand how you ended up here. It's not safe here, and I'm here to help."

The stranger's gaze softened slightly, and there was a glimmer of vulnerability amid her cautious demeanor. I could see she was wondering whether to trust me or not.

[zkylearnstherope]

My Fan Theories for Alan Becker's AvA 6 - Episode 2

It gets revealed that The Dark Lord is not actually evil.

Like Red before, Dark got possessed/corrupted and it somehow revived/enhanced Alan's code inside him. Chosen must've sensed this, because I think he held back a lot in the Showdown Episode.

He was named The Chosen One, damnit! He's supposed to level up along with his enemies. He can't possibly lose a fight.

He sensed something was wrong, but is not smart enough to save Dark.

victim actually works for the government/police.

When they summoned Alan's cursor during Showdown, it created public unease in the city. Like, A CREATOR IS ACTUALLY HERE!

The cursor was big enough to be spotted in the city. And when someone came to investigate, all they saw were laser marks on the ground and a missing mountain.

Naturally, the #1 suspect would be The Chosen One. In the Wanted Episode, when he saved the office worker from the falling debris with his lasers, the office worker either (a) covered his eyes to look at the bright sky, or (b) actually saluted back to Chosen.

I think it's B. So, people in the city are actually familiar with the rocket man in the sky. He would've reacted differently if it's the first time they saw Chosen. And don't get me started with the nonchalant reaction of the Corn Dog Guy.

So with this in mind, how would anyone capture a what is essentially, a virtual god? They will go for the smartest man they know, produces the most advanced technology, and who obviously has connections with Chosen since they look exactly the same.

I don't think victim is out for revenge. Like, why would he wait all this time to get back at Alan? He has all the resources now, his own company (that sells TVs), like, what else could he ask for?

I choose to believe in victim. He's the type to defend himself rather than hurt someone else. He even stopped the 3 members of the rocket group from killing The Second Coming, and asked Agent to bring him alive.

They even unpaused Second at the end. Which makes me believe that victim would want to talk/negotiate with him. What victim needs is INFORMATION, and he's not getting that from The Chosen One.

victim is actually looking for The Dark Lord

I believe Second's powers has something to do with antivirus and codes. And firing that mega-laser actually disabled Alan's Code, and in fact, DID NOT KILL Dark.

Dark surviving off-screen is not really a far stretch. Because, it already happened before in the Flashback Episode.

Now, if you take into consideration all the stuff I mentioned above...

The rocket group approaches The Chosen One, asking for The Dark Lord.

Chosen, remembering all the crimes they did during the Internet Conquest, fearing for his friend, he gets apprehensive and starts to escape. Instead of letting him get away, they had to use all the tools at their disposal. And then enter the epic chase scene from Wanted.

Other sub plot theories

Purple will show up and help them, since he actually lived in the city before, judging by the location of his Mom's grave. Purple would know about the rocket group, and can guide/help the others to stop them.

We'll see Red cry for the first time.

The fight will go like this:

Green vs. Agent Smith - both great with staffs, spears, or any long-ranged weapons, I also think that Green would be fast enough to match Agent

Red vs. Hunter/Primal - pure strength and heavy muscle

Yellow and Blue vs. Ballista/Pixel - G U N S

Purple vs. Hazard/Sign - being trained by his father Navy, Purple is actually really good at hand-to-hand combat

Alan's Giant Cursor form is not going to show up this time.

victim is going to teach Second about his powers.

---

God, I can't wait for the next episode.

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

Everything’s a Negotiation (6/?)

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x OC, Modern!Alfie Solomons x OC

Warnings: series typical violence, language, sexual situations, possessive behavior

Summary: Mac meets another of Tommy's...associates, and the meeting doesn't go how either of them expected it to.

Word Count: 2616

A/N: Okay, I know this has been forever and that many of you have been waiting so patiently for an update. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want added to the tag list.

When she’d woken up, Tommy hadn’t been outside her door. She pretended she wasn’t disappointed by his absence. Instead, she’d discovered a rather ostentatious display of flowers on her table. They’d made her smile, which had then made her frown since she had quite decided if she’d been swayed from angry to charmed by Tommy’s behavior. Maybe Sydney would be able to help sort out her emotions tonight when they met for drinks. Although, knowing Syd she might just say to shag him and be done with it.  

Mac dashed into her office, heels in her hands as Katie trailed after her, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I know, I’m late. It was - ” Mac cut herself off. “It doesn’t matter. Won’t be a problem again.”

Sitting on the edge of her desk, she put her shoes on a took a deep breath. She thanked Katie as she placed the cup of coffee down.

It had been a nightmare getting out of the house. One of those mornings she hadn’t had since Zeus was a puppy. First, he wouldn’t eat. Then when it was time to go outside and get done, he just wanted to sniff everything…and chase everything. She’d been half asleep and more than a little distracted by a tall man with blue eyes, and Zeus managed to slip his lead, so she’d spent precious time chasing him down the street. Not chasing exactly, because if he even thought she was chasing him then it was over before it began since clearly her yelling and running after him meant ‘let’s play a game’ in dog-speak. Instead, Mac had carefully trailed after him, pretending to be absolutely un interested in everything Zeus did until she could get close enough to grab his harness. 

Taking a sip of her coffee, she tilted her head as she noticed a small package waiting for her on her desk. Before she could look for a note or call Katie back in, there was a knock at the door. Reminding herself that she had been a capable professional long before she’d met the Shelby’s and that Zeus was an incredibly well-behaved dog (most of the time), she moved quickly to the door. 

A bright smile on her face, she greeted her first client of the day. 

“Mister Solomons, pleasure.” Mac held her hand out to him. 

He grinned at her. With gentle movements that belied the size of his massive hand, he brought her hand up to his lips. His untamed beard and mustache tickled the back of her hand as he pressed a kiss to it. She felt a blush creep up her neck. When his lips quirked up into a smile, she fought the urge to duck her head as she felt the blush deepen. It was the eyes. She’d always had a weakness for men’s eyes.

“Thank you for seein’ me today in your lovely office, Miss Theil.” 

She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what it is I can do for you. As I’m sure my assistant told you, we don’t take on contracts for a company of your size. She should have provided you with our list of recommended companies.” 

Taking her seat, she watched as Alfie placed himself in her chair. His frame filled the space and he sprawled himself, as though to intentionally make himself seem larger. 

He nodded, stroked a hand down his beard. “Yes, yes, she did. She did give me a list, but I’ve always thought, right, always thought that it’s best to have business meetings face to face, yeah?” 

“I’m sure. I’m also sure you thought comin’ here in person, flashing me that cheeky smile of yours, using those bright hazel eyes on me would have me all weak in the knees. Figured you could…negotiate a better deal with me.” 

As his smile grew, her frown deepened. It didn’t happen often anymore, her firm had a well-known, and well-respected reputation. But, in the beginning, she’d get a lot of customers who’d come in and demand she clarify her business model, as though she were at uni presenting her portfolio to the tutor at the end of term. Others thought they’d push her around because she had tits and no dick. 

And yet. The more she looked at Mr. Solomons the more she felt something was off . The way he held himself. Casual, almost…waiting. But this waiting for what? She had an inkling he wasn’t expecting her to change her mind. No, this was something else entirely. 

A blinking icon on her screen drew her attention. Glancing down she smirked. Interesting.   

Standing from her desk, she trailed her finger along the polished top as she rounded it. Perching herself directly in front of Mr. Solomons, she crossed her ankles and leaned back against her desk. As she’d expected, his eyes tracked her movements - half interest in her body and half a desire to keep her always in his line of sight. 

“I must admit,” Mac began, voice smooth and even. “I had expected more from a man in your line of work. It’s honestly a bit disappointing, actually.”

She watched his brows furrow. Leaning forward she pouted at him. “Did you mean to insult me, Mr. Solomons?” 

Before he could speak, she turned the computer screen to face him. “Do you see that van there?” She pointed to a nondescript maintenance van parked across the street from her building. 

“There’s the most curious signal coming from that van. I do hope you didn’t invest a great deal of money in either the equipment or the personnel inside.”

“Now, pet - ”

Ignoring the endearment, she continued. “If I were to press this button, a number of simultaneous things would occur. Several which might bring you and your…associate into closer contact with law enforcement than a man in your line of work finds comfortable. This would be followed by lengthy discussions with my team of well-paid and rather intense, if I’m being honest, barristers who would demand a bit more money than you’d be willing to part with because I get greedy when I feel insulted.”

“He’s harmless, only little.” 

Mac smiled, all teeth and false charm. “Unfortunately for you both, I’m anything but harmless. I have this other button here - ” She caressed it. “We can avoid any police involvement, any lengthy litigation, but that van will never work quite properly again.”

“I understand now,” Alfie said almost to himself. “If you wont take me business, would you allow me to take you out for a drink, yeah? Consider it a sort of apology, yeah, for my bad, bad manners.” 

Mac’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly is it that you understand now that wasn’t clear when you showed up in my office earlier, Mister Solomons?”

“Alfie, pet, please.” 

“Answer the question.” 

Alfie scratched at his beard again, eyes slightly narrowed. “You’ll not like the answer I have for you, pet. No, you won’t like it at all. Don’t want you losing your temper at me, sensitive soul that I am, don’t want you to run the risk of hurting my feelings.”

Mac laughed, even though she didn’t want to. How was it that she attracted all the crazy, but endearing men in London to her office? Was she just easily charmed? Maybe Syd had been right about her type…

“Well now you have to tell me, and since you’ve already insulted me, I figure turn about is fair play.” 

“Right you are, pet. I said that I understood, right, understood why Thomas Shelby, yeah, see I knew you weren’t going to like this explanation, right because Thomas Shelby is the one who told me about your company. Encouraged me he did to come have a chat with you, right, but fuck Thomas Shelby because I do want you to work for me because you’re fucking brilliant, right, and I do enjoy the presence of fucking smart people.” 

Shark smile on her face, Mac pressed the button. She knew Alfie tracked her movement, watched his jaw work around words he didn’t say aloud. Walking towards the window, Mac motioned for Alfie to join her. 

Alfie held his hands up in front of him, palms out to placate her. “Now pet - ”

“No cops,” Mac interrupted. “As you said, I’m smart. But, I don’t work for business of your size. Still, I’m damn good at what I do, so here’s a little object lesson for you since you and Tommy seem to be a bit dense. When you report back to him, you can detail what you saw. First hand account. See those men - ” Mac pointed to the quartet of suited men leaving the building and crossing the street. “They work for me. They’re going to detain your man in the van, and confiscate all material assets they find - including the van itself. I’ll impound it in my lot. Strip any electronics I find, purge the data, and if I’m feeling very generous, which is unlikely because I’m a greedy girl, I might send the van to a local chop shop and send you the address - if you’re lucky you might be able to locate a fender.”

“Dinner.” 

Mac shivered. She hadn’t been aware that Alfie had moved in so closely behind her, but she could feel him now. His warm, hard body standing behind her, not touching her, but the threat of it was delicious. The warmth of his breath against her ear when he spoke sent fissures of pleasure down her spine. Damn Sydney for being right about her; she did have a type. 

“Cover you in fucking diamonds, pet, just let me buy you a drink, or dinner, a fucking show, yeah?”

She wanted to lean back against him at the unadulterated need she heard in his voice. Powerful men desperate for her was such a turn on, and she was only human. Tommy’d had a similar affect on her. The growl of his voice, the feeling of his hands on her face, her body. 

“You and Tommy are so similar,” she whispered, hating how breathy it came out. Behind her, she felt the answering rumble from Alfie. “I say no to both of you, refuse to work with you, and next thing I know you’re both offering to buy me drinks, dinner - expensive gifts. One might get the impression you thrive on rejection.” 

“Sapphires,” Alfie whispered, his beard teasing the shell of Mac’s ear. 

Her shoulders rolled back, pressing her ever so slightly closer to him. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t some nameless, faceless bloke on the dance floor in a club in the West End. His hand wrapped gently, if possessively around her hip as he moved himself flush against her back. She should push him away, move away from the warmth of his arms. This was foolish. A needy little sigh escaped her lips. 

“Classy woman like you,” Alfie continued. “Fucking Fabergé Eggs, yeah, nothing but the best for you.”

Mac giggle. “What the fuck would I do with a Russian egg, Alfie?”

He nosed behind her ear. “Anything you want, pet.”

She tilted her head to the side, providing Alfie greater access to her neck. Feeling the scratch of his beard along her sensitive skin had her trembling slightly in his arms. He tightened his hold on her, wrapping both arms more securely around her waist. Warm, large fingers teased along the waist of her skirt, gently lifting her shirt from where she’d tucked it earlier. Slightly chapped lips pressed against her neck as her eyes fluttered closed. 

The touch of of his fingers across her navel startled her from the pleasure induced haze she’d fallen into. 

“Wait,” her voice came out breathier than she’d intended, but the man knew all the right buttons to push. “This is insane, Alfie.” 

Alfie pulled his lips from her neck, helped her stand on her own before gently turning her to face him. 

“What is it, pet?”

“We’re not doing…this,” she made a nonsensical gesture with her hand. “Here, in my office in the middle of the day like we’re the leads in some tawdry bodice ripper you read at the airport because you’re too tired to care what people think of your reading choices.”

Alfie nodded his head. “Classy fucking lady you are, yeah, and you’re correct. This is your place of business. So, let me fix this, right, fix it by taking you out proper, a nice bar, good meal, then when you allow me to ravish you, and ravish you I will, there will be no nonsense about your place of work, about fucking society norms and propriety, right, none of that.” 

“I can’t do that,” Mac blurted.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Tommy - ”

“Fuck Tommy.”

Mac laughed. “He took me to one of his clubs, took me dancing, kissed me like it was his fucking job.”

“That’s because he’s fucking smart. Knows a beautiful woman when he sees one, right, and decides to get his hands on her before some other bloke does.” 

“Then you understand why I have to decline your offer. Both of them.” 

Alfie frowned, stroked his beard. “Are you Jewish, pet?”

Mac shook her head. “No, not that it matters.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, yeah? It does fucking matter because it means I can’t offer you lifelong commitment, right, can’t offer you a forever sort of relationship, the type I think Thomas Shelby might be inclined to persuade you into, yeah that sounds like ‘im. Since you’re a fucking heathen, I can only offer you a good time, but nothing can come of it which means Tommy, right, he can come in and woo you, take the time to convince you of his better nature, if a Godless thing like him ‘as such a thing, but he can offer you that. Me, I’m just offering drinks.” 

“We went from diamonds and sapphires and fucking Fabergé Eggs to drinks and what, friends with benefits until Tommy decides he wants to put a ring on it? Is that what you actually said?”

Alfie nodded.

“Are you bloody well out of your goddamned mind?” 

“Wot?”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re insane.”

“You’re making a much bigger fuss about this than is strictly necessary, pet.”

Mac shook her hair out of her face before tucking her shirt back into the waist of her pants. 

“You can collect your man on your way out, Mister Solomons. I’ll have one of the guards escort you; can’t have you getting lost in my building.” 

“Pet - ”

Mac ignored him, pressed the call button on her phone and waited for a response. “Katie, can you please send one of the boys in? Mr. Solomons is ready to leave, and he needs to pick up his baggage on the way out.” 

She caught the laugh Alfie tried to hide. Part of her was amused, and she wasn’t quite as offended as she put on. It wasn’t as though she and Tommy were, well, anything. Not really. But. Boundaries - especially in her line of work - were important. Something she’d learned a long time ago. And a fling with a man, no matter how attractive she found him, wasn’t worth the risk. 

“Miss Theil?” 

She looked up. “Brody, thank you. Please take Mr. Solomons to the holding area where his associate has been waiting. Our business is concluded.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” 

Alfie took two steps towards the door before turning to face her. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Theil. I look forward to seeing you again for a bit of rum.” 

Mac’s smile was thin. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mister Solomons. Seems it might not rain.”

Part 7

Master List

Tag List: @polishcrazyone​  @allie131313​  @highgardenrosexx​  @stevie75​

[idkaguyorsomething]

once again obsessing over the implications of hobie brown’s shoelaces

for those of you who don’t know, lace code is a part of punk culture where a person identifies themself by adding colored laces to their boots (purple for gay, white for racist, etc.). hobie wears blue laces on his shoes, which means he’s a cop-killer. but what makes this especially interesting is that a huge part of across the spider-verse hinges around the idea that all spider-people must experience the canon event of a police captain close to them dying, which hobie confirms has happened to him. from this we can draw at least two assumptions, that either a) hobie killed the police captain in his canon event or b) hobie feels responsible for the death of the police captain in his canon event

a) hobie is very anti-authority and in his introduction makes a point of saying that he fights the police (very punk of him 😊). given that he lives in a world of superheroes, and the world he lives in is hinted to be something of an orwellian dystopia, it’s extremely possible that he might have had to fight an officer that was transformed into a supervillain. although the spider society, including miguel, do not seem to use lethal force, we all know that hobie does not necessarily follow anything that’s expected of him, and in a situation where he had to choose between protecting innocents or putting down a baddie, the right call for him seems fairly simple. not necessarily easy, but simple. in the comics, he did beat president venom to death with his guitar (though he is a very different character in the comics and the movie) and when miles asks him about his canon event, he seems noticeably less sad than the other spider-people and more aloof. given how cautious he is of abuses of power and how much he values protecting innocents, this would add some fascinating depth to his character, but there’s also the possibility of

b) miguel specified that the police captain who would die in the canon event would be close to their spider-person, and the ones that we know about were all either loved ones or relatives of loved ones. additionally, the context we’re given for these canon events suggests that it’s common for these captains to die in the line of fire trying to save a child. with gwen, hobie has shown that he’s not averse to befriending a person who’s working in the system, whether because they genuinely believe they’re doing good or were put in a vulnerable position (though he’d obviously rather help them get out). it could be that his police captain was someone he knew before they joined the ranks or he really developed his beliefs. even if he didn’t trust his police officer, it’s possible that he may have viewed them as the least bad one, if that makes any sense, or they did something in their final moments that at least partially redeemed them in his eyes. the fact that he claims responsibility for their death suggests that it may have had something to do with a spider adventure of his, so it’s also possible that they were forced to team up against a greater threat

either way, that’d make for one raw as hell story, and hobie choosing to help miles show everyone that canon events aren’t inevitable while also claiming responsibility for what everyone in the spider society seems to believe they have no control over rocks

[fredkinnie]

L4D2 Nick x Reader

Office AU

Gender neutral reader Nick does call them sweetheart condescendingly (because hes an asshole)

Recently rediscovered this oneshot I wrote over a year ago as a joke(?) thing with a friend, not my best work but I think the concept was cute so if anyone's interested !! I don't know how to format fanfics on here bear with me. ALSO I edited it a little but also not really . not my best work so apologies D:

“As you both probably know, Ellis’ birthday is tomorrow.” You shuffled in your chair, attempting to make yourself comfortable. Of all the things your boss, Rochelle Torres, could have pulled you into her office for you were rather surprised it had to do with the birthday of one of your coworkers. Ellis Thompson was relatively new to your small sales office- he recently moved from manufacturing- but you got on quite well with him. The man seated to your left, however, did not.

“And? What, do I need to bake overalls a birthday cake or something, maybe hire some strippers to jump out of it?” This sarcastic quip came from no other than Nicolas “Nick” Wright, the well dressed and, admittedly, rather attractive salesman with a rather unnatractive attitude. He was known around the office for his pessimism and sarcasm, and the damned white suit, blue shirt combo he wore to work every day. However, he was great at his job and an excellent leader. In fact, he wasn’t half bad when he was focused. You’d even managed to coax a compliment out of him the last time the two of you were assigned to a project together. 

“No.” Rochelle responded after a moment, giving him a warning glance. It was obvious she was amused yet unenthused by his comment, the newly promoted woman was still finding a balance between banter with her subordinates and the level of professionalism needed by a regional manager. She was doing a good job, though, you noted internally. Much better than Nick, who so clearly struggled with professionalism. Rochelle spoke again, interrupting your thoughts about the suited salesman. “Actually, I need you two to decorate the conference room. Louis normally takes care of it, as you know, but his sister’s wedding happened to coincide with Ellis’ birthday.

“I approved his time off in advance and told him I’d take care of finding someone to set up the party, but then I forgot. I’ve just been really busy and it slipped my mind, I’m sorry for the short notice, guys.” Rochelle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back apologetically at you and Nick. You glanced to your left to gauge Nick’s reaction, which was unsurprisingly not a happy one. He looked like he was about to say something he’d later regret, so you cut him off.

“Don’t worry! We know you’ve had a lot on your hands as of late, it’s okay to make a mistake once and a while. Just tell us what we need to do specifically and we’ll do it, no problem.” You could practically feel Nick’s blank stare boring into the side of your head, but as Rochelle smiled you realized that he realized that you just saved his fucking ass. You’re welcome, Nick.

“Well, I went ahead and took care of the cake, so don’t worry about that. I took some time and dug around to find what party supplies we had on hand, so you’ll find that stuff in the conference room. Just go in there and do your best to spruce up the room, that’s all I can really ask.” You nodded, taking her statement as a que to exit. You stood up and looked toward Nick, who still hadn’t left his chair.

“Why did you choose me for this? At least the country boy and (Y/N) are actually friends.” He huffed, crossing his arms and sliding down in his seat slightly. It was almost funny to watch a grown man act so juvenile, especially a man who acted as macho as Nick did. This time there was no amusement in Rochelle’s stare.

“You two are my top salespeople. I figured you both deserved a break for all the hard work you do around here, however if doing things for your coworkers feels like a punishment to you I can make it one. Get working on it, now.” She said sternly, pointing a pink painted nail toward the door. He seemed to get the message as he scurried out after you. 

A pack of 24 assorted multicolor balloons, a pile of colored construction paper, and a spool of twine were waiting on the conference room table for the two of you. Beside them sat various office supplies, including a tape dispenser, a hole puncher, and a pair of scissors.

“Alright, here’s the game plan. Take the hole puncher and make some confetti with the construction paper. The custodians will hate us but it’ll make the table look more festive. I’ll make a banner with the paper and twine, then we’ll blow some balloons.” You directed, handing him the hole puncher before turning to grab the supplies you’d need. You had a vivid picture of what you needed to do in your mind. If you cut the letters in “Happy Birthday Ellis” out of the construction paper, then punched holes into the tops of them, you could string them on the twine and hang it up above the tabl-

“Who died and put you in charge?” Nick retorted, begrudgingly reaching for a piece of paper to begin his confetti making journey with. His scowl was even worse than it typically was, which was saying something.

“Probably the same person who died and made you a huge bitch. Like seriously, what’s your deal? Might do you some good to take the stick out of your ass and try to enjoy things once and a while.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead beginning to cut an H out of a piece of orange construction paper. The room fell silent, save for the clicking of the hole puncher and the sound of scissors gliding across paper. Yes, what you said was unprofessional. That much you acknowledged, and if he decided to take that up with HR (that is, when the HR representative Louis came back from vacation) you were willing to take the consequences that came along with it. However it was the truth, and it needed to be said. You kept cutting.

“Sweetheart, if anyone else had said that I would have punched them.” Nicholas replied quietly, a few moments after the silence had gotten awkward. His voice was so soft, it was startling. What he said didn’t feel rude or like a threat, it just felt personal. The silence returned. You finished cutting H, then A, and P, another P, and then Y. You set your paper scraps between you and Nick’s seats and in some unspoken agreement, he turned it into confetti.

Clearly, there was something on your coworkers mind. Nick was never this quiet. As much as he seemed like he disliked people, you just got the feeling he thrived around them. When the two of you went for a meeting with one of the company’s customers he talked nonstop. He really is charismatic, especially when he’s not so rude. The longer the silence between you two went on, devoid of even a sarcastic crack or a mumbled string of curses, the more uncomfortable it became until finally you just had to ask.

“What’s wrong?” You inquired, finally turning to focus your (E/C) eyes on the suited man beside you. He took a deep breath, set down his tools, and turned to face you. Nick’s grey eyes were watering, tears threatening to spill out. He sniffled, averting his gaze and smiling crookedly. Instinctively, you reached out and embraced him, pulling him into a hug. His composure broke and he began to cry into your shoulder, melting into the physical contact that he so desperately needed. You could faintly make out muffled apologies and explanations coming from the crying man, nothing that really made sense but you realized this was more for him than it was for you. You just let him get it all out, one hand around his back and the other cradling his head. 

After a few minutes, his sobs slowed, then eventually stopped. Nick broke away from the hug, red eyed and sniffling. His true nature finally hit you: he’s a good guy, just scared to be vulnerable.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffed, your gazes still locked.

“I know you are.” You smiled gently.

“So much has happened but that doesn’t excuse being a dick. I’m so sorry.” Nick continued weakly.

“Do you want to talk more about it?” You offered.

He nodded.

“Over drinks tonight? The bar downtown?”

He nodded yet again, smiling.

With that, the two of you simultaneously turned back to your birthday party prepwork, the silence much more comfortable this time. He’s a good guy deep down, and you’re determined to meet the real him. For now, though, you were content cutting letters.

[cafeinthemoon]

Portrait of a Monk - Chapter XIV

Chapter 14/?

Wordcount 3,1k

Title The Priest's Honeymoon

Fandom Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing Geto Suguru X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warning (s): Implied nudity (non sexual); Geto being overprotective (as always)

Tagging @darling-imobsessed @wasurenagusaa (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message, or leave a comment on this chapter 😉)

A.N.: So... A chapter at the hot springs! This is something I've been wanting to write for a while, not necessarily for this story, but it came out to fit it, so here we have our shy y/n-chan not wanting to get rid of her towel while Geto-sama doesn't take his eyes off her 😳 As if it wasn't enough, she's introduced to another side of his technique, about which they will have more to discuss...

Geto-sama wanted to be as real as possible for you, and he did take his measures to see it happening. One of the said measures, as you discovered in the next morning, was to arrange things so that you would spend that whole week in honeymoon. 

When you woke up, you found yourself alone, wrapped in the blankets just like you remembered being when you fell asleep the night before. Thanks to them, as well as to the heater, your body was warm, and the sound barrier was still active, protecting your ears from the winds outside, the clearest sign of Winter’s approaching. Except for the slight numbness in your limbs and a subtle ache between your legs, you wouldn’t say you were tired, but leaving the bed was the last thing you wanted right now. You sighed with yourself and entered deeper inside the blankets. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you felt so in peace. 

You turned on your side and ended up sleeping again. 

*** 

Only when you woke up for the second time, you realized the room was too quiet. You moved your arm to the spot beside you and found it empty. At first, you just thought your husband left to solve some minor issues and would be right back, so there was nothing to worry about, but when minutes passed and there was still no sign of him, you frowned. 

Finally, you moved the blanket away. You blinked a few times and passed your sight over the space. The room was still a bit dark, but a cold light was perceptible through the cracks of the porch door, forming a sequence of pale beams, giving every surface a shade of blue. 

In any corner you looked, no trace of his cursed energy was sensed. 

You left the bed, grabbed your robe and headed to the bathroom. After washing your face and brushing your hair, you went back to the bed area, thinking of changing your clothes and try to find Geto. 

However, a more attentive look showed that you wouldn’t have to go too far. 

His chambers, larger than any other in the temple, were divided in two sections: that one where you slept, and a second, separated from it by a shoji door, where he had a table for meals and a second-hand office, a place where only a few were allowed: that was the room where he gave you the hairpin and proposed to you. When you left the bathroom, you heard noises coming from there and noticed the door was half opened. You didn’t waste time. 

You slipped across the door and found him with his back turned on the entry, sitting at the table. He was in his black robe, finishing his breakfast. His hair, untied and spreading down his back, was already brushed. 

– I considered calling my y/n-chan to have her breakfast with me, but she was sleeping so sweetly that I didn’t want to wake her up – he spoke without looking at you. 

You weren’t surprised that he noticed your presence despite your silent arrival; it was rather a relief not having the responsibility of starting your first conversation after… last night. Yes, the memories were a bit embarrassing now that you revisited them under the daylight, less because of what happened than because your worries on how it could change you in his eyes. Well, would it really change you? 

You must have been stuck in the doorway for too long, for your master turned to you with soft but inquiring eyes. 

– Won’t you join me at the table, my dear? – he stretched his left arm to you – Come before the tea gets cold. 

You approached the table and were going to occupy the spot by his side, but Geto took your hand and placed you on his lap. You didn’t have time to refuse it, not even to be flustered: you felt his hands adjusting your legs, giving you space to get comfortable, his arm surrounding your waist, bringing you close to his chest. It was a warmer, more intimate version of that occasion, a few weeks ago, when you were together at this very space, discussing the wedding’s date. With his palm on the back of your head, he caressed your hair and left a long, soft kiss on it. 

– Such a delightful thing to see in the morning – he mumbled, sensing the fragrance of your hair – My beloved y/n-chan in my arms… Now, let’s take care of her just like she deserves. 

He brought the teapot closer and, holding it with his right hand, he poured the liquid on a cup; the steam and the relaxing scent of herbs spread around the table, filling your nostrils. He gave you the filled cup; you sipped the tea and approved the taste. 

With a smile, your husband brought an empty bowl closer, but when you thought you were just going to fill it and eat, he proposed something else. 

– Choose what you want, dear, and I’ll get it for you. 

Yes, that sounded unusual even for your eccentric lover, but the content upon the table was so inviting that you found it useless to argue: you did as he said, and the result was the prettiest bowl imaginable. With a pair of hashi, Geto stirred the food, took a bit... and brought it to you. Only then you understood what he had in mind, and your eyes widened: he was going to feed you, then? 

You looked from the hashi to him, met his usual, soft smile, then looked back at the hashi, confirming his intention. You left the tea on the table and turned your attention to the food, opening your mouth with curiosity, then covered your lips while chewing, not holding back the smile of pleasure with the excellent taste. 

– I’m so happy that you liked it! – Geto turned to the bowl and took a second bit of the food – More? 

You nodded. 

– Please, my Lord. 

And he kept feeding you until the bowl was empty. 

It didn’t escape you a glimmer of pleasure in his eyes while he observed your delicate form receiving this curious, affectionate gesture: the way your pupils widened to the sight of the food, your nostrils sensing the scent of the condiments, your small lips spreading to taste the bits and closing around the hashi while they moved away... It was a delight to watch his y/n-chan experimenting, accepting his love with no question; it wasn’t a shame to depend on him for a moment, he would say. And since the season of hard work brought by Winter was around the corner, and with it, little time to enjoy together, you told yourself it was better to take this opportunity. 

When everything was finished, you remained quiet, resting in Geto’s arms with your eyes closed while he filled another cup of tea for himself. 

At some moment, he started a conversation. 

– There’s a place where I want to take you for our honeymoon, dear. Actually, I already reserved a stay there. 

You were almost sleeping again, but opened your eyes and raised your head at this. 

– Did you? What type of place, Geto-sama? 

– The hot springs at … Have you ever heard of them? 

– I’m afraid not – you replied after thinking for a second. 

– They’re located in the North, not so far from here. The building is wide, surrounded by trees and natural beauty. And it’s very peaceful, so we won’t have to worry about a crowd. 

Your cheeks heated up at the mention of a crowd, but it wasn’t the presence of other people that worried you: though you never visited hot springs in your life, you knew that people used to stay completely undressed in front of each other at them. Was that appropriate for you two, despite you being a couple? 

Your husband blinked one eye at you, fully aware of your apprehension. 

– Speaking of crowds, I reserved a private bath for us, so you don’t have to be afraid – and kissing the top of your head, – No strange eyes will be on my y/n-chan. 

That was quite a relief: you still haven’t got used to show yourself to the man you loved, so having your form exposed to other people outside your home would be a nightmare. 

With that issue solved, the only preoccupation you had was concerning the travel. 

– When do we leave, then? 

– Today. 

– Today? But… isn’t it too far? How long would we take to get there, my Lord? 

– If we chose a traditional transport, we would take long to arrive, that’s true – he explained – But we have a more efficient way to cover the distance. 

– What way? 

He giggled. 

– You’ll see. 

*** 

In the end, the effective way of traveling was revealed to be that winged cursed spirit Geto summoned at the garden the day he told you about innate techniques. By that time, you already knew he had thousands of curses under his control, but you rarely saw him using them unless in great necessity: your husband always preferred to do things by himself or to delegate the work to his children. Besides, even though he never openly spoke about this to you, you also knew that he didn’t appreciate spending time around the common people, and barely let his family do this – in your case, this protection was such that you haven’t seen any of them since you came to live there – which explained his rejection for traditional transports, at least partly. 

You weren’t so fond of heights, which made you suspicious about putting yourself on the curse’s back and fly with it, but you were comforted in this too: Geto spent the whole travel holding you in his arms, and even wrapped you in a blanket because of the cold. You thought of taking a nap to not see the blank space around you, but it turned out to be unnecessary: as promised by your husband, the travel’s duration was incredibly short, something around ten minutes, if your notion of time was correct. 

Soon, you were landing at the large, solitary gates of the bath house, away from the chilling winds of upside. Geto stepped down from the curse’s back and helped you reach the ground, then stretched his hand, making the creature disappear. There were no people at sight, and you thought it was for the best: if they were usually unable to see curses, it would be scary for them to witness two strangers coming from nowhere above. 

Your package was carried in the stomach of another cursed spirit. When you folded the blanket, Geto summoned it and told you to put it inside the curse. It disappeared right after, and you crossed the house’s entry with your arms entwined. 

*** 

 

Finally, you reached the room reserved for you. 

While Geto summoned the curse and took the packages out of it, you went to explore the place, opening the doors and looking at their interiors in awe. 

The room was as large and comfortable as your own at the temple, and was even structured in a way that resembled it: the furniture, the bed area and the bathroom were arranged in the same positions of your room at home, and there was little to no difference in the proportions of the two rooms and the distance between the objects. The remarkable differences consisted in the lights, not as softer as the ones of the temple, and the porch door, that would lead to a small, private garden surrounding a pool of hot water without the necessity of a long, stone path to it, as it happened in your house. 

It was everything so pleasing, so familiar that in a moment, that room felt like home. Maybe your husband chose that specific room to maintain this sense of comfort and soothe your process of adaptation. 

Not only this, but an extension of the behavior pattern he showed while feeding you early that morning was also applied in favor of this: Geto already told that you had the face of a doll once, but that time he started having some kind of fun treating you like one. 

Shortly after having your personal items settled, when you started the preparations for your first bath, he asked you to approach. When you did it, he made you turn around and tied your hair up with a pin he carried with himself. You brought your own pins of course, but you wouldn’t refuse a favor from your husband. 

– Thank you, Geto-sama… 

He patted your head with a smile, as to say it was nothing. He indicated the place where the towels were kept and pointed to the bed, where two of them were already separated, then brought his hands to your shoulders. You felt his fingers groping under the hems, making your clothing slip down, and held your breath: he was going to undress you and wrap you in the towel, then. Yes, you refused when he tried to do this last night, saying you preferred to manage your bath by yourself, but that time you didn’t oppose, despite your shyness: you thought that if you always said no, you’d never get used to it. And it wasn’t like you’ve had your boundaries disrespected, anyway: whenever you showed discomfort with a gesture or act, Geto would step back and try to understand what happened, then respond accordingly. 

Then why did this feel strange? Why couldn’t you let him just take care of you? 

When you noticed, you were already covered by the white towel, and your clothes were placed on the bed. 

– Go ahead – Geto was saying – Enjoy the water. I’m right behind you. 

You adjusted the towel upon your chest and went to the porch door. 

That porch was narrow compared to the one of the temple, but seemed to be built with the same type of wood. Right ahead, there was a small group of descending stairs made of gray stone that led to the bathtub itself, a rounded crater surrounded by smooth edges and a wooden floor; at the right and the left, starting from the porch, there were some sort of thin walls decorated with natural landscapes and birds, so that the only open space was in front of you, right after the tub, where you saw trees, flowers and some exotic species of plants. It was incredible that they were still this beautiful by that time of the year, but you supposed the gardeners had their tricks to maintain their good aspect. 

Unlike you imagined, it wasn’t really cold outside, for steam was constantly raising up from the water, reaching your spot and warming everything around the tub. 

It was a marvelous place to stay at. You spent a moment observing the surroundings, then decided to enter the water. You unwrapped the edge of the towel under your arm... but gave up on taking it off when a noise was heard among the plants. 

You took a step back, thinking if you should go back to the room and call Geto or ignore it. It could be just the wind or a small animal hiding. 

Unfortunately, you didn't have the necessary time to find out before the source of the noise revealed itself, and it had nothing to do with an animal: it was a curse with the size of a big dog, with a greyish purple skin and the aspect of a reptile, but its body and limbs were twisted, just as its movements as it crawled on the wooden floor. From the curse’s mouth came a wheezing sound that made you cringe. 

Despite the disturbing appearance, the curse wasn’t that strong. It might have been born from the stress or fear of the previous hosts, nothing you couldn’t deal with. You took a deep breath, stretched your hand to exorcize it... 

– Ah, wait a little, my dear. 

You startled at your husband’s voice, so cheerful, coming from the porch. You looked behind and saw him approaching and passing by you, his eyes fixed on the spirit. His hair was now tied up and he had a towel wrapped at his waist, but his thighs were exposed. 

– Instead of just exorcizing it, why don’t we give it a better destiny? 

You frowned. 

– How so, my Lord? 

– I’ll show you. 

He stretched his hand toward the curse, still wheezing and now trying to reach his feet. The curse raised its head toward him and let out the loudest noise possible, as if sensing that something terrifying was about to happen. 

And that ended up being the case, at least to it. Slowly, its body was pulled up and absorbed in a spiral under your husband’s hand, until it was turned into a compact, black orb. Geto observed it for a second and, with a giggle, opened his mouth to swallow it whole. 

You stood there in silence, staring at him. So... that was how he took over all those curses he possessed? 

Geto looked back at you and raised an eyebrow, as if what he just did was the most common thing in this world. Then, suddenly, he laughed. 

– Ah, I almost forgot it! You haven’t seen me using my technique yet – he approached and made a caress your chin – This shouldn’t have happened so suddenly. I’m sorry for scaring you, y/n-chan. 

– I’m not scared, my Lord – you shrugged – I’m just... surprised. I already knew your technique was unusual, but I’d never thought it would work like this. 

He smiled. 

– Well, there’s more about it that you’re yet to find out – he approached the tub’s edge – But for now let’s just relax, okay? 

And before you asked yourself what he was going to do, Geto unwrapped the towel from his body and folded it before entering the tub. You turned away with your face in heat; you heard when his foot touched the tub’s bottom, and only looked again when he was already covered in water, the smooth, hot waves dancing at his chest’s height, the towel upon the wooden edge beside him. 

You were still standing, holding your own towel around yourself, not sure of what to do. He turned to your side and leaned his elbow on the border, his cheek on his hand, eyes glued on you. 

– Is my y/n-chan so afraid of the water – he blinked with his left eye, a growing smug on his face – Or is she afraid of something else? 

No verbal response came from you, too shy even to giggle. You understood that he wasn’t going to do you the favor of turning his gaze away, so you just did what you had to do and freed your body from the towel, leaving it close to Geto’s after taking your spot on the steamy water.

[fanmoose12]

Hi, I've been enjoying your fics (esp the fluffs) in ao3. Thanks for that btw!

Idk if you're currently available to accept some prompts but might as well suggest one;

So I've been having this hc where levi started using his actual surname "ackerman" after he found out from kenny about it. I want to know how will hange (ofcrs) and the others will react to it. Thank you!

Erwin is the one, who finds about it first, by the virtue of being Commander.

It's mostly accidental too, and happens when he reads through one of Levi's weekly reports.

He skips over rather dull- in Levi's unbiased opinion, at least- details in the beginning, goes right to the final conclusion, which as week after week goes by, remains almost unchanged: Mikasa is the best out of bunch, Connie, Sasha and Jean are adequate and make a decent team, Armin and Eren are okay, mostly, but are still better suited to work with Hange.

Erwin takes it all with only quiet hum as his reply, however- however, his eyes widen a fraction, when he sees Levi's signature.

"Not just Levi anymore?" is all he asks, as he regards Levi with a raised eyebrow.

Levi falteres, although the question was more than expected, and his reply to it was already prepared. He puts down the watering can and steps away from Erwin's plant he's been tending to. Looks his Commander in the eyes, as he says, "Old man, he-" a curse slips past his lips, and Levi shakes his head with a sigh. That kind of stuff is still hard to share, even with someone as close to him as Erwin. He makes an effort, though. "Told me about our family, and all that. Could be a load of bullshit, of course, but- it feels kind of nice. To know where you come from."

There, he said it, and with minimum amount of cursing and cringing too. A job good done, if Levi can say so himself.

"Levi Ackerman. It certainly has a ring to it," Erwin says, after a moment of pensive rubbing of his chin. How does he do that, Levi wonders, how does he manage to look as a fucking pillar of wisdom, while he simply touches his face. Must be a talent, or- a special power of the Smith lineage. "Although I must admit," the hand is gone from his chin, and in a blink of eye, gravely serious Commander Erwin transfroms into Erwin, a little piece of shit. His lips turn upwards, as he gives Levi a look that fills his blue eyes up to the brim with mischief. "I always expected you to take a different name. We all did, actually."

What- what can he possibly mean? Levi feels lost, lacking the context to understand a joke. Is it some kind of tradition he doesn't know of? Something he's not privy to because he grew up in the Underground? Or is it just a case of Erwin being Erwin - a barely comprehensible motherfucker?

Maybe, it's a bit of both, Levi decides, but just to be thorough, he asks, "What?"

"Nothing," as expected, Erwin gives him nothing more than a quiet chuckle. "Forget I said anything. You may now go, Captain Ackerman."

Levi wants to flip the bastard off, but- subordination and all that shit must be maintained, so he doesn't. Not, at least, until the door to Erwin's office is closed.

___

The next to discover the news are the kids, damn them all. They swarm Levi like a cloud of flies, surrounding him from all sides.

"So!" It's Sasha, who gets the closest to him. And yells the loudest. "You're, like, Mikasa's brother? Or- or uncle? It's so-"

The expression of disgust he pulls at the mere suggestion of being related to the most annoying (after Yeager, naturally) member of his squad is mirrored almost scarily accurate, by none other than Mikasa.

Perhaps, Levi must admit, there is some truth to Sasha's words. But even if they're related, they're definitely not as close as the girl thinks. Distant cousins, perhaps, but that's all Levi agrees to entertain.

"It's kinda weird," amongst the chatter of others, Levi picks up Jean's voice - it's much quieter, whispered into Connie's ear. "I thought Captain had a last name already. Just kept quiet about it, you know-"

Connie's confused shake of a head confirms that he doesn't, in fact, know. Levi doesn't know too, so he drones out Eren's question to Mikasa, and leans a little closer to Jean and Connie, curious to hear the explanation.

Can it be related to Erwin's previous nonsense?

"You know," Jean continues, after granting his friend with a disapproving glance, "To keep that thing- between him and Hange-san in secret."

"Oh," Connie stretches out, delighted. He giggles, elbowing Jean in the side. "That thing." Just as quickly, though, his enthusiasm dies out. "But if Captain actually has a last name, that means- ugh," the boy hangs his head, shoulders slumping in defeat. Levi is utterly lost, again, the conversation between two friends all but incomprehensible to him. "That means that you were wrong. Damn, we owe Mikasa our lunches now."

Why do they? What has happened? What the fuck is going on?

Levi wants to ask, he feels, knows it even that he needs to know. What was that, what thing between him and Hange? Is it so secret that even he doesn't know?

Does Hange?

He should probably ask her about it. But for now- Levi hurries to turn away from two boys, before they take note of his curiosity. Whatever is going on in his squad (and possibly, whole regiment, "We all did, actually", Erwin had said), he doesn't want to become the topic of yet another gossip.

___

He goes to find Hange as soon as he shakes off his squad, but- it turns out that getting rid of six over-excited teenagers is much easier than finding one, incredibly hard-working scientist.

Hange is not in her office, and when he comes to the training grounds, she's not there either; he visits the research facility, but finds it empty too, except for Moblit, who smiles apologetically and says that, "Hange-san is running some errands. Truthfully, I'm not sure when she'll come back. Or if she'll come back. Maybe, you'll find her at dinner?"

Except, of fucking course, Hange skips that too. Frustrated and not an inch closer to finding an answer to his puzzle, Levi grabs some leftovers from the kitchen and goes to eat in his room.

And that's where - fantastically - he finds Hange.

She sits at his desk, brows furrowed and lips plucked, discontent all but written on her face. It's- it's not an unusual expression on Hange's face, especially after a long day of tiring work, but she rarely comes to him, when she's in that kind of mood, so Levi feels the need to ask. Before he can even open his mouth, though, Hange looks up, her finger immediately shooting upwards, to point accusingly at him.

"So when were you going to tell me about this?"

"This?" Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had his fill of the riddles today, and now Hange - instead of helping him solve the previous ones - is adding another one? Unbelievable. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"Your last name! Everyone talks about it, but I didn't even know you had one!"

Oh. So it's this thing, again. Levi is thoroughly done with it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hange persists, one hand on her hip. "Are we not friends?"

"Of course, we're friends," he replies, without missing a bit. Early on, Levi has learnt that arguing with Hange about that is absolutely pointless. Besides, it's not in his nature to deny the obvious. "And I did tell you about it, when I spoke of-"

"Kenny the Ripper, yes," Hange nods, "Your uncle who you thought was your father."

"Exactly," he shoots back. "You already know everything."

Hange shakes her head. "No. I still don't know why you decided to take his name. And when you made that decision. I mean, you knew that you two were related, so why didn't you take it-"

"I wasn't sure. And I thought he was my father."

Hange cocks her head to the side, looking exactly like Levi was feeling earlier today, in Erwin's office and with the kids - utterly confused.

"I don't follow," she confesses at last, in a small voice.

Levi exhales, and comes to sit at his bed, motioning for Hange to do the same. Once she is there, and her shoulder brushes against his, he explains, "I thought he was my father, a father who, at first abandoned my mother, then did the same thing to me. I wasn't exactly fond of him, in case you haven't noticed, that's why I didn't take his name. But when I found out that he was my mother's brother, I-"

"Oh," Hange breathes out softly. "It's not his name that you took. It's your..."

"My mom's, yeah."

"Oh," she repeats again, this time even softer, much gentler. "Want a hug?"

Without waiting for his answer, or- more probably- already knowing it and seeing right through his bullshit, Hange embraces him. Her hands wrap around his neck, chin lands on his shoulder, digging into his skin and making her touch feel tangible, real. Levi exhales, puts his arms on her waist, allows himself to relax, get lost in the warm cacoon of Hange's affection. And if he pulls Hange a little closer, if his grip on her seems desperate in any way, she is kind not to mention it and patient enough to continue holding him.

"You know," she begins, and Levi shivers, when he feels her hot breath on his neck, "I know it's a little stupid-"

"You're stupid," he shoots back, smiling, when he hears Hange let out a short chuckle.

"Well yeah, I can get a little stupid, when I'm not busy being a brilliant genius, but I was thinking-"

"Yeah?"

"Before Kenny and all that mess, I was thinking that, maybe, and it was foolish of me, I know-" get to the fucking point, Levi wants to demand, but all that gets out is a frustrated grunt. Hange picks up on it all the same, chuckling heartily, before she continues, "Levi, have some patience. But, yeah, I was thinking that since you don't have a last name, then maybe... well, you could take mine. I mean, you already have a name, so that's not necessary, but-"

Levi drones out the rest of the sentence and the rambling that follows after it. He ignores everything else too - time, the world itself seems to be put on a pause, as he wonders: if that was the others have meant earlier? Can Hange mean what he hopes she does?

"Four-eyes." He can't help it, his voice comes out too raspy, too shaken, when he breaks the embrace, inching away until he can look into her eyes. "Do you-" he doesn't quite know how to formulate his question, what words he must use to make sure that Hange is absolutely on the same page as he is. So he tries again, "I didn't exactly pay attention to it, but in the Underground, when someone asks you to take their name, it usually means that-"

"If they're lucky," Hange chuckles - nervously, with fingers fisted into her shirt so tightly her knuckles turn white. She glances up at him, meets his eyes, then fleetingly moves her gaze away. Levi wonders if the red on her cheeks is the trick of light or his own imagination. "It means that, um, that someone loves you very much. And wants you in their life."

"And..." his heart beats too fast, too loud, he barely hears himself. He takes a moment to clear his throat, then, feeling far more scared than in the moments when he has to face a horde of titans, he asks, "Am I that lucky?"

Hange is smiling, which Levi feels acutely, when she presses her chapped lips to his cheek. "So, so lucky, Levi."

He closes his eyes, scarcely breathes, as he lets the feeling wash over him. He is lucky, he is loved. And-

And he loves back, so, so much.

And that's- oh, Levi realizes, that's what everyone has been going on about. The thing between him and Hange. So secret that everyone knew about it but them. Perhaps- Perhaps, in their duo, Hange is not the only one stupid.

"I already have a name," he says, and wonders if that feeling inside of him, the one that blooms so vividly, threatening to take up all of the space in his lungs, is that fear or elation? Only Hange can answer this question. "But if it doesn't bother that someone-"

"That someone," Hange giggles, presses another kiss to his cheek, seemingly as overwhelmed as Levi feels, "would love you all the same. That is, of course, if you-"

How can he not, when Hange's been there for him since the beginning, when Hange is the smartest, the weirdest, the kindest, the funniest, the the, the best out of all of them. For Levi, at least.

"I do," he says, eyes flicking up to meet Hange's, to let her know that he means it. His palm lands back on her waist, so when he reaches out to Hange, he is steady. He glances at her, to make sure that what he's about to do is okay, and with Hange's permission granted in a form of a nod, he puts his lips on hers.

He means the kiss to be short, chaste, but when Hange tangles her fingers into his hair, when she pulls him closer and closer until he's all but on her lap, he can only melt against her and do his best to follow her lead.

Hange is passionate, impatient, and she kisses him like she means it, like she has been dying to know what his lips taste like. And that feeling- that fear that was almost suffocating him, now disappears, turns into a delight so forceful it leaves him dizzy.

When they separate - inevitably, which makes Levi wonder if there is a way for humans to survive without air, if Hange, his brilliant Hange can figure that out, for the sole purpose of allowing Levi to spend the rest of his life just right there, on his bed and in Hange's lap, their lips touching - Hange grins at him, eyes darkening when she catches a sight of his swollen lips.

"Levi Ackerman," she says, announces it, like they're on some sort of an official meeting, and not in the privacy of his bedroom. Her voice is loud as she speaks, and her tone is cheerful and proud, "and Hange Zoe. Separate, but stronger together."

"Mm," Levi nuzzles into her neck, missing her lips already. "And extremely lucky."

"So lucky," Hange agrees, before she lifts his chin. She craddles his face between her hands, caresses his cheeks, while her forehead presses against his, and this- simple touch, filled with so much love- feels as good as kissing. Even better, somehow. "Who cares about names anyway?"

Certainly not Levi, not while his heart is full of love, and his hands are full of his Hange.

And as they kiss again, he smiles.

[depressed-sock]

Strays and the Hands that Feed Them  by depressed-sock Part Two ( 8316 words ) Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Darth Maul, Coruscant Guard Clone Troopers & Darth Maul

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Bloodstained Clothes/Armor

Hi holy fuck this turned out longer than expected lol. So for this prompt, I ended up throwing in a reference to it throughout this chapter. So lots of blood-stained clothes and armor mixed in between what kind of sorta a plot

tag warning: lots of murder and implied murder, implied sexual assault (Nothing is shown but there is a part with Thire that starts to head in that direction but is swiftly put to a stop I'd suggest if you don't want to see it to start skipping at "So all Thire and the rest of the Guard can do is make do with what they’ve got." and end "It’s hard to forget a name that fits so perfectly.")

...

It’s later than Fox would like when he finally makes it back to his office. He’s exhausted and tired and wondering how the hell any of this happened in the first place. A senator murdered in their own office shouldn’t be possible during the high traffic hours of the Senate but it’s happened. And whoever did it left the room practically painted in the senator’s dark blue blood.

Fox can’t even say he’s exactly upset by the death itself. It had been one of the problem senators on Fox’s long ‘Only for Qualified Officers’ blacklist. It also happened to be one of the few he actually put a bounty on through a few different shell identities.

So if he really wanted to not deal with the paperwork and investigation involved in this he could just write it off as an enthusiastic bounty hunter. It’s a tempting idea. The only problem is that Fox had specifically requested he wanted this senator alive.

Which means he has an actual security threat he needs to worry about. So instead of the easy route, he has to figure this out before some other fucking senator gets murdered. Or worse, one of Fox’s Guard gets murdered. (Even though it wouldn’t legally be considered murder because fucking clones aren’t legally sentient according to most of the Senate.) So now he’s just fucking pissed off and tired.

To make it worse he had plans for this particular asshole. They had been a kriffing shiny killer in the worst way. Maiming them and making them useless so that they’d get sent back to be decommissioned. There’s only one shiny left standing after having an encounter with them and the only reason Mouse has survived is because Fox has hidden her deep in the Coruscant barracks.

Mouse who had always been soft-spoken and kind. Mouse who loves the little droids that help clean up around the base and Senate. Mouse who continues to refuse any sort of eye prosthetic because she’s terrified of what might happen if she’s able to see again.

Fox won’t lie. He prefers to keep his hands out of most of the situations he orchestrates but this time the loss of shinies and Mouse’s fear had just pissed him off enough that he wanted to get his hands dirty. He had been planing to take his time with this particular senator, wanted to take the fuckers eyes and make him fucking beg for death. Wanted to make sure Mouse knew with absolute certainty the fucker was dead by Corrie hands.

It’s not his usual approach. It is, however, one that’s reserved usually for the real sick fuckers. He could have just as easily set it up to completely ruin the senator’s career but this one had hit too close and it had pissed off not just Fox but the entirety of the Guard. He’d just been waiting for a bounty hunter to take the listing so that there were at least a few steps in between before someone tried to point any accusations at the Guard.

Now that’s not possible.

And if Fox ever finds out this senator was murdered because a bounty hunter decided to bring him in dead rather than alive Fox is going to be pissed. He might even hunt the fucker down for taking Fox’s kill. Considering the body had been left behind though, Fox doubts it was someone trying to cash in the bounty. It looked more like something akin to revenge. Long and drawn out. Painful in the worst ways.

At least he can take solace in that.

He sighs as he sets his helmet down on his desk. Rubbing a hand down his face and steadily ignoring the fact that there’s another presence in his office that is distinctly not a clone. If he doesn’t look up he doesn’t have to acknowledge it. He can just pretend for a second that he can just sit down, get some of his flimsiwork done, and hopefully after that get maybe an hour of sleep.

There’s a chuckle from the direction of his office couch. Like the bastard knows exactly what Fox is thinking.

He looks up to glare at the figure sitting on his couch. Maul’s lips tug up into a feral grin, black tunic opened far enough that Fox can see the swaths of still-wet dark blue blood on the red of his skin. Enough blood that Fox is absolutely certain that it’s soaked into Maul’s clothes. Blood that Maul smears onto Fox’s couch as he leans back, legs spread out and looking all too pleased with himself.

Fox doesn’t know what pisses him off more. The fact that this asshole killed the senator and made more work for Fox, the fact this bastard took his kill, or the fact that the ingrate is getting evidence all over Fox’s good couch. Fucker could have had the decency to wash up and burn his fucking clothes. It’s going to take hours to get those stains out.

“You know I expected you to just fuck off and die somewhere far away from me.” Fox crosses his arms and leans back onto his desk. Ignoring the flimsi and datapads that fall off as he does it. Not like he’s getting any of that shit done with Maul here anyway.

“Where would I get my fun if I did that little Fox? After all, you put so much work into piecing me back together that I thought I should get you a gift.” Maul licks the tip of his fingers and all Fox can think about is how Shivers is going to have so much fun giving this fucker a health inspection later.

Oh, Maul doesn’t realize that he’s getting one yet. He’ll only realize his mistake later. Right now though, he thinks he’s safe but Fox is absolutely certain that he got the Thire and Shivers special when he wasn’t looking and now has a tracker implanted somewhere underneath his skin.

Thire does it to keep track of his enemies. (Fox is not aware if he succeeded with Palpatine and can not confirm or deny any knowledge about any kind of tracker that may or may not be on the old raisin.) Shivers does it so they can track down the rest of their patients who are all known Medbay jumpers.

As far as Fox knows, he personally only has the ones hidden in his armor. He refuses to find out if either of them snuck one under his skin. Mostly for his own sanity, but also because he knows a lot of the troopers who come back from reconditioning are just that paranoid and need something to soothe that part of their brains now.

“You got me a fuck-ton of paperwork is what you got me you asshole. Next time don’t leave a fucking murder scene, hide the body somewhere I won’t find it, and take a fucking shower.” Fox crinkles his nose, “In fact go take one right now and stop ruining my couch.”

“I figured you’d be angrier.” Maul just tilts his head and leans forward, “Considering I took your revenge from you. I remember in great detail what you wanted to do to them.”

Ah, this is drunk Fox’s fault. You fucking idiot, Fox thinks to himself as he glares at Maul.

“You obviously have no problem taking revenge for me,” Fox emphasizes that specifically. Because that kill was definitely done out of revenge and it had to be for the Clones if it was Maul doing it. He’d have no other reason to do it. Fox rolls his eyes and adds, “Considering they’re now dead and no longer my problem I don’t really care.” He cares a little. Not as much as he did because it at least means there’s not some strange murderer running around that might take out the Guard.

Just the crazy stray Thorn picked up that’s murdered someone Fox wanted to murder. Yeah, Fox isn’t sure how exactly that became the better option but here it is.

“There was a bounty put out on them. I assumed you’d like them dead long before they were taken somewhere else,” Maul states it like he expects Fox not to have known that. Which just makes him wonder how much of an idiot Maul thinks he is. But Maul has a look in his eyes like he knows exactly what Fox is going to say next.

Fox adds some poison to his mental shields and hopes it kills Maul slowly.

“I put the bounty on them, di’kut.” Even if he didn’t he would know because Fox knows exactly who in the Senate all have bounties on them for security reasons. Amidala has already surpassed Palpatine by at least ten different bounties with only two duplicates from the same person but placed in different systems. Surprisingly Binks is winning in how much his head is worth to someone on some backwater planet.

Fox has money on it being a shell identity and that it’s a senator who wants him dead. All he knows for sure is that it’s not Palpatine because he would have just had Fox kill the Gungan. Even if he did Fox might have found a way to get out of that assassination attempt because he definitely doesn’t want to test whatever fucking God likes the clumsy thing. With Fox’s luck the Gungan would trip and someone elses gun would suddenly go off and put a bolt through Fox’s head by complete accident.

“You are very clever aren’t you.” Maul’s eyes light up in that sickly familiar yellow and Fox just shakes his head in exasperation.

“Why are you here Maul?” Fox sighs in resignation. Because there has to be something more to all of this.

“Consider this a forward payment. Both for future information,” he licks his lips, eyes still bright before he continues, “and for the help I need. I’m quite familiar with the intricacies of Coruscant but… my brothers are not.” His eyes narrow, “I know I’m not your first… stray,” he sneers the word, “I’m sure you have had others you’ve had to teach. I want you to teach my brothers how to survive here and in exchange, a few of your problems will disappear.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Maul raises an eyebrow ridge. “I can take care of your enemies while you stay in the shadows like you wish to.”

“I can very obviously handle that by myself thank you.” He can. It’s not the first time he’s made a Senator disappear, both under his own will and because Palpatine demanded it of him. It doesn’t matter that those ones had cared about clones. That they’d been fighting for Fox’s and his brother’s rights. They’d been a danger to his Guard because Palpatine was a danger to his Guard.

There’s no place in this galaxy for him to regret protecting his people.

“Besides,” Fox continues, “If you’re just going to leave behind a fucking murder scene then I don’t want your help. You’ll just give us more kriffing work and we don’t need that.”

Maul snorts, “That was because I wanted your attention. You haven’t noticed the other missing senators yet, have you?”

Fox narrows his eyes. Shit, what did he miss? “Who?”

“You’ll find out,” Maul bares his teeth in a facsimile of a grin.

Fox is going to have to look into this. Figure out which senators Maul has taken out of the picture and what kind of headache just got dropped into his lap. He hopes Maul has some sense of self-preservation and hasn’t gone after Palpatine’s closest ‘advisors’.

“Get out and let me think about it.”

“Of course,” Maul stands, walking past and leaving a bloody handprint where he grips Fox’s shoulder. “I’ve left a comn you can use to contact me. Just don’t wait too long little Fox, or I might get too bored to stick around.”

Fox kind of hopes he does get bored, just so that Maul will leave. Then at least Fox could go back to the status quo.

…

Stone sees the stray before it sees him. Which is a surprise considering the force user should sense that Stone’s walking up from behind it. He doesn’t grab it, he’s not that stupid, but he does start to walk beside it down the street. It glances at him from behind its hood, yellow eyes piercing but they have an edge of daze about them that Stone has seen in his brothers before.

It’s the tired soft edge of a long shift. The tell that they're about a few minutes from either passing out. Not a great state to actually talk to a person in but Stone doesn’t have the time to wait for the stary to take a nap.

He tilts his head towards an empty building and they both quietly slip inside. The stray taking position with eyes on the doorway as it leans back against the wall arms crossed. Expectantly waiting for whatever Stone has to say.

“You’ve been going after senators.” Stone knows this to be true despite Fox keeping the information to himself. Hard for Stone not to know what’s been going on because Stone’s watched the footage of the stray slipping in and out of the Senate. He’s also edited it to make the stray a near-ghost in the system. No evidence left behind for anyone else to find.

The stray is quietly watching him. Studying him like he’s done before in Isolation One. Searching for something about Stone even as Stone readjusts his shields. He loses more and more of his own presence to protect his mind. He’s become good at that, becoming just another thing among thousands. Too hard for a single force user to pinpoint.

“Is there something you desire from me, Stone?” Maul lets his words come out in a lazy drawl, studying his claw with an idle unhurried glance.

“Our blacklist has more than just Senator’s on it.”

“Oh does it now?” The stray purrs with interest but doesn’t move from its position. Just tilts his head and narrows its eyes.

“Has Fox taken you up on your offer?”

The stray tilts its head further to the side, “He told you? No,” it grins, “No, he didn’t.” Then it barks out a laugh. “You all are so strange in very different ways, aren’t you? What has your master done to change you? Or were you always like this? Drawn together by circumstance and chance?”

Stone gives it a flat look, “I’ve always been like this.”

“Maybe.” The stray gives a faint nod of acknowledgment, “Maybe you’ve become something more. You’re all quite talented in shielding it makes one wonder what else you might be talented in.”

Stone scrunches his nose making a face of distaste not liking anywhere that sentence would lead. “Do you want the list or not?”

“You seem fairly confident that I’ll do something with it.”

“Because you already are?” Stone says in a confused tone. This is why Fox doesn’t like him near the Senate he can’t play their games when the answer is already obvious. He doesn’t get why anyone wouldn’t just say what they mean. “I also added some things on Skywalker and Kenobi.”

“You’re giving me Fox’s blackmail so that I’ll kill more people for you.” The stray steps up to Stone so that their both chest to chest. Stone’s seen the action before done by others, it’s an action that’s supposed to be intimidating but considering Stone has seen the stray curse out a terrible book series and keep reading it, it doesn’t really work. “I should have expected something more when you said you didn’t care about what the senators do to you. You’re the one to watch out for, aren’t you? The others speak their threats to anyone who will listen and you remain silent in the background. Watching and gathering what you can before you strike.”

“First of all, it’s my blackmail, Fox has his own. He’s got access to information I don’t so you can still have your deal with him.” Stone states, before shaking his head. “Secondly, I get information others can’t get but I don’t act on it. I said before that I can’t afford to do that. I’m not Fox.” He doesn’t want to be Fox either. Fox looks like he’s always ten seconds from dropping dead and Stone doesn’t want that kind of stress in his short life. It’s why Thorn then Thire are next in line for Fox’s position.

And if they all go, then that means something’s gone wrong and Stone won’t be far behind them anyway.

“Here.” Stone hands over the data stick, shoving it into the stray’s hand. It’s the stray’s choice if it does anything with data. What Stone doesn’t say is that he also added everything Fox gathered on Palpatine. All the information, all the data that proves without a doubt that Palpatine is working both sides of the war. It’s Everything that Fox had conveniently forgotten about after the one time he confronted Palpatine.

Stone had originally thought that had been a mistake on Fox’s part. Maybe it still is. But at least this way someone else besides Stone has the information on Palpatine. If Stone has read Maul right, he knows that the information will be used in the best possible way.

Stone had read somewhere that revenge is best served cold.

He hopes Maul can make Palpatine freeze over in terror as his plans crumble into dust around him.

…

There’s a body on the Guard’s doorstep. Dropped right in front of the barracks without a care in the world. Fox for the first time since he’s stepped foot on Coruscant hasn’t been more thankful than now for the barracks to be out of sight of most of the general population. Because that means he can contain the situation and hide any evidence he needs to hide.

There’s only one unaccounted-for factor and it’s the natborn aide that likes to come around and help some of the Guard paint their nails and teach them how to use other cosmetics. They also conveniently happen to bring several crates of whatever packaged food they can get that day. Today was some sort of sweet bread that Fox knows has already gone into several different betting piles.

When the aide first sees the body they pause, stare at it before recognition hits them, then they laugh and tell Fox to keep up the good work before they carry on like they didn’t just step over a senator’s corpse. Fox tries to remember if the aide counts as his stray or Thorn’s and after a moment blames it fully on Thorn, based fully on the fact that Thorn’s strays are all a bit more unhinged than Fox’s.

Fox looks down at the body. The body that is still seeping fresh blood, its clothes slowly growing more and more stained. Fox can only sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose as a headache starts to build.

He’ll get this cleaned up, and then he’ll start looking into any other missing senators.

…

It takes several days to realize who is missing. Who, because apparently it’s not just senators that Maul is targeting now. The first that Fox finds gone is a near-human male Senator who liked to corner Fox’s troopers into rooms by themselves often enough that Fox had finally put his foot down and made sure only he would ever be available for the disgusting bastard. The second is a Rodian woman who worked in Corsec who liked to commit friendly fire on clones and with a personality that makes Sly Moore look nice and pleasant.

Which maybe doesn’t say as much as Fox would like, considering he tolerates Moore more than most. Oh, she’s just as much of a bastard as he is without a doubt but she’s also never touched a single one of his troops or him. Sure she’s done some mind fuckery but she’s a darksider as far as he can tell so that’s expected. It’s tame compared to some of the other assholes Fox has to put up with.

What might be the most concerning part about these people missing is that no one else realizes that they’re gone. Or at least they haven’t realized it yet. It’ll be at least a week before someone does take a second look and notices that they’re not where they said they were going. The only reason Fox knows is because he was looking for it but the Senate Guard and Corsec really should have realized that these people are very much gone from under their noses.

Fox is just glad that none of it can be blamed on the Guard. In fact, it’ll look as if they had a run-in with pirates when they had traveled back to their homeworlds. Since both of them supposedly disappeared on unregistered trips out of Coruscant. Even though Fox knows he saw them recently in the Senate.

It’s good work. Done quietly and without the fanfare of Maul’s other very public murders.

This whole situation makes him think. Mostly about Maul’s offer. It makes Fox wonder if it has to extend to the Senate or if Maul would be willing to go after other targets.

Because there’s one that’s been on the top of his list for the last month after Fox had saved a Vod from decom and hidden them away in one of his safehouses. The 534th Commander had, according to the file, become defective and unable to carry out his duty. An understatement considering the shape Fox had found him in.

Fox thinks this one was one of his most horrifying recuses yet. The Guard has never had someone they know come through on a recon or decom order from the GAR. There’s always one or two every once in a while but never a batchmate or friend. So when this one ended up being Thorn’s missing batchmate who Thorn had thought cut off contact with him... Well, it had been heartbreaking to watch Thorn try to interact with his Vod who barely responded to outside stimuli.

It’d taken hours to get any kind of answers from him. It turns out all of the 534th are terrified of contacting anyone out of their battalion. Afraid to make an already bad situation worse. The poor Vod looks like he’s gone through several years of guarding the Senate’s worst. Haunted and broken in ways only the Guard really understands.

Fox fiddles with the comn unit in his hand. Studies it carefully.

He could figure out a way to deal with Krell eventually. It would be more difficult than a senator who he could easily find blackmail on but it would be doable. The only problem is that Fox doesn’t think the vode in that battalion have the time to spare for Fox to get said blackmail. Not when the situation has begun to rapidly deteriorate according to Jackal.

Fox fidgets, grip tightening on the comn unit before he puts it down on his desk. He starts on his next round of flimsiwork, ignoring the device. He barely lasts a few minutes before he picks it up again. Then with a sigh he gives in with a simple press of a button and Maul appears on the holo. Maul who grins at him with sharp teeth and a look of pure satisfaction.

Fox narrows his eyes as he thinks about how he’s already regretting this. But this is something he actually needs help with and if Maul wants to prove his worth this is the best way. Besides Maul might not be able to go up against Palpatine but surely he’d be able to take out Krell. And as a bonus, it’ll hopefully take him off Coruscant long enough for any investigations to blow over. “How would you feel about taking out a Jedi?”

…

Thorn feels like this is some kind of cosmic payback. It has to be because there are currently two Zabrak sitting in the Guard Commander’s combined office and he’s the only one currently here to deal with them. Because Fox is meeting a contact with Slick and Thire is on Senate duty and Stone is sleeping for the next two hours. And there are two Zabrak now staring at Thorn expectantly in their shades of orange-yellow with black markings that Thorn doesn’t want to think about.

Thorn thinks the worst part is that these two might just be the consequences of his own actions.

He figured that Maul would have just fucked off permanently. Found somewhere much better to be than here in the shithole that is Coruscant. Thorn really wouldn’t have blamed the Zabrak for that! It’s not like the Guard could have just kept him in the Isolation one forever. Eventually, someone would have come sniffing around.

Besides what the fuck were they supposed to do with him? Thorn knows he might be a little bit of a hypocrite for thinking that considering it was originally his plan to keep and use Maul. But to be fair! That doesn’t mean he actually knew what to do with him. At least, they got some extra protection for their minds. That was one good thing about that whole situation. After that though, they had ended up floundering with what else they could get out of Maul.

So Fox got the Zabrak a pair of cybernetic legs and let him fuck off to who knows where. Figuring that Maul would find a way to remove the force suppressor on his own and far away from the Guard. You know, just in case Fox’s theory about Maul kind of losing his mind because of something to do with Palpatine and the dark side of the force turned out to be true.

It’s why Fox never offered to fully remove it. Anf Thorn fully agrees with that decision. He does not want to deal with more of bitey Maul than he’s already dealt with. His vambrace still has puncture marks he hasn’t had time to fix.

Anyway… So Maul left and now there are two Zabrak sitting in Thorn’s shared office and they’re staring at him.

“Hello?” He says weakly confused as he stares right back at them from behind the protection of his helmet. Maybe these two, very obviously related to Maul, Zabrak aren’t actually related to him. Maybe Thorn’s finally hitting Fox’s level of sleep deprivation where he starts seeing hallucinations.

Maybe the big fucker who’s standing up and towering over Thorn won’t fucking snap him in half and suck out his insides.

Or maybe he will and Thorn can finally fucking sleep for more than a few hours at a time.

Maker, he should piss off one of those senators who like to send them to isolation. He could use a fucking break.

“Our brother sends his regards, “ the big one narrows his eyes. “He said you will teach us the ways of Coruscant.”

Oh, fuck that bastard. “Sorry, I don’t know your brother. We only take in stray tookas here, not failed darkers.” Thorn might not be able to talk about Sith lords but the old raisin didn’t think about all the other words to describe himself and others like him. Honestly, big mistake on that asshole’s part.

The smaller more normal-sized Zabrak steps up beside his brother, placing a hand on the big fuckers arm and giving a weak smile to Thorn, “He said that the Fox approved it because Maul promised to deal with Krell?”

Oh, that fucking bastard. Fox hadn’t even told Thorn he was planning something for Krell soon. It doesn’t exactly surprise him, considering Fox just stopped Thorn’s batchmate from getting decommissioned like a month ago and Jackal’s a fucking mess. His hands still shake and his eyes look so very dead, like Krell had taken away some important part of him. Jackal had wanted to go to Kamino and it took everything Thorn had to pull him back to just to convince him to stay here for at least Thorn’s sake.

He fucking hates that it came to that. Hates that Jackal will never be the same. The only good thing that came out of the situation was Nexus and Malware who Fox had found trying to hack into Kamino and Guard systems trying to save their commanding officer from his fate.

Malware had gone back to Krell’s battalion but Nexus had stayed. They haven’t left Jackal’s side for a single instance and Thorn isn’t going to complain about it. Especially considering Nexus is another point to anchor Jackal back to himself.

Now Thorn is stuck here instead of by his batchmate's side. Because his batchmate got sent to the Squad Stray safehouse where everyone’s a criminal even if they’re not yet. At least Jackal doesn’t ever have to worry about a natborn being a commanding officer ever again. The twin Twi’leks who are definitely not Thorn’s kids but who are also very much Thorn’s kids are also helping with that readjustment.

“He also did mention that you were all possibly insane.” The tall Zabrak glowers in a way that reminds Thorn so much of Maul. Kinda makes that tired unhinged part of his brain want to squash the Zabrak’s cheeks together.

Also fucking pot meet kettle Maul you fucking hypocrite.

“Right ok,” Thorn takes off his helmet specifically so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let's start with names. I’m Thorn and you are...”

“Savage,'“ The tall one growls.

“Feral.” The nice one smiles weakly.

Ok, Thorn can work with this. He can definitely do this. He will also, while doing this, will make a plan to get Fox back for this whole situation. There had been plenty of time to warn him about this Fox, you motherfucker.

…

Thire has been reconditioned twice in his life. The first time was shortly after an escort mission for General Yoda. After that one, he’d had trouble remembering names for months. He still does, though it tends to be natborns whose names don’t really stick around in his head anymore. It’s easier to give them numbers. Senator Blacklist #1, Whitelist #12, Corsec #30, and so on and so forth.

The only reason General Yoda’s name stuck is because Rys and Jek like to talk about that mission, like to reminisce even if Thire can barely remember a few minutes of what happened. It also helps that General Yoda asks after them all, checks in, and makes sure they’re all okay. He still does it even when Thire lies to his face about being fine and knowing exactly who General Yoda is.

The second time Thire was reconditioned was right before he was promoted to Commander. He doesn’t remember the reason for it. He thinks it was Enemy #1 who ordered it, thinks that it wasn’t really a punishment for Thire but for one of the other Commanders he’s close to.

There is one thing that he does know for certain about that second reconditioning. That whoever he was before he can never really be that person again. Mostly because after that one something went wrong with Thire’s head that was worse than forgetting names.

Thire knows he wasn’t always this paranoid or angry before it happened. Knows it in the pitying looks he gets from the others when he starts muttering to himself just before he starts stockpiling supplies in some hidden corner of the base. Knows it in the way Fox promoted him immediately after Thire came back from Kamino and started talking back at the Senators when he couldn’t wrangle his anger in.

Knows that Fox did that so that Thire could never be reconditioned again and come back somehow worse than what’s already happened. Or be decommissioned for that matter, but that was less of a threat nowadays even for the newly added shinies. Nowadays they just send them somewhere else and make them blend in because only a few people actually check if a trooper has been decommissioned. And even if they get one of those fuckers who like to make sure a trooper is dead they have enough dead bodies in the basement that it’s easy enough to switch numbers if they need to.

So there’s really no need to worry anymore.

Now Thire’s anger and paranoia are just a quirk he can’t be punished for. It doesn’t matter that Thire has access to a tracking system that tells him exactly where every Guard is at all times. It doesn’t matter when Thire inevitably snaps and beats the shit out of the first GAR to dare bad mouth Fox in 79’s on Thire’s off days. It doesn’t matter that on the really bad days Thire can only trust Fox and the other commanders and that on the worse days Thire shoves himself into a corner with his stockpiled supplies where no one will ever find him.

None of it matters because Fox has made it as safe as he can. And even then there will always be things that hurt the Guard because nothing about their situation will ever change for the better.

The Enemies might not be able to force Thire to be different. But there are still rules he knows he has to follow because no matter how safe you think you are, you really aren’t. Not here, where no one but your fellow Guard will try to save you.

There are plenty of ways to die here on Coruscant. An angry senator with too much strength, shot in the lower levels, taken by slavers, trampled in a riot. Plenty of other ways to also have the will to live slowly sucked out of your soul too. Just standing long enough in the Senate’s halls is usually enough to do that.

So all Thire and the rest of the Guard can do is make do with what they’ve got.

Like right now.

Watchlist #15 is on Fox’s list because she’s been slowly getting braver. Touches here and there on trooper’s armor, comments that leave even seasoned troopers shuddering in fear of what’s going to come when the teasing finally stops. She’s been getting braver and Thire knows with absolute certainty that this is the week she’s going to take it too far. It’s not paranoia if it’s the truth.

It’s why he’s put himself on the Guard schedule to be around her. If there’s going to be a fall out he’s not going to let a shiny take that hit. Thire himself has never had it happen to himself either but he knows he’ll handle it better than a shiny would. The others try to protect him just as much but inevitably they all experience some version of this bullshit.

He thinks mostly, that they just don’t want him to finally snap and go on a murder spree with Shivers. What they don’t know is that he and Shivers have a plan and it involves explosives and everyone in the Guard being off planet when that happens. They’re still working out the logistics of how to get the Guard off Coruscant, they’ve debated telling one of Fox’s batchmates so that maybe the Vod can help steal a cruiser from one of the battalions. But Thire doesn’t trust them to keep their mouths shut.

So the plan is a work in progress. Something better to focus on than Watchlist #15. Who hasn’t noticed that Thire has been ignoring her the entire time she’s been talking at him. It’s only when she looks up and down the hall and notices no one else that she orders him to her office. He follows behind. Perfect posture, perfect stride. Nothing out of place, nothing to critique.

A part of him just wants to put a bolt through her head and not deal with any of this. It would be so easy too. None of these bastards ever expect the Guard to defend themselves. And if Thire makes the murder look messy enough he might even be able to get away with claiming it was the same murderer who got Senator Blacklist #3 just a couple of weeks ago.

He steps into her office when she opens the door and waves him through with a smile and a glint in her eyes. She closes the door behind herself then she locks it and is quiet as she passes him, fingers dragging along his shoulder. She hums in satisfaction as she leans back against her desk, studying him.

“Take off your armor.”

He tries not to think as he does it. Just focuses on the clips and straps as he drops the pieces to the ground in a semi-orderly pile. When he steps out of his boots he returns to a parade rest. Still in his blacks because she only said his armor and Thire hates her too much to give her more than an inch.

She frowns at him, anger sparking in her eyes but she can’t hold his attention. Not as he stares straight past her shoulder and into the shadows just behind her.

She sighs before pushing off her desk, “You meat droids really do only follow orders to the letter don’t you?” She grips his chin and tries to force him to look her in the eyes. He refuses too, but also he can’t when there’s something so much better to look at. The shadow just behind her is as familiar to Thire as any of his brother’s faces.

Because Thire is paranoid. Because Thire keeps an eye on not just his brothers but also his enemies.

Just as the senator opens her mouth, about to demand something more, Enemy #2 slides up behind her, grabs her by her hair, and slices a line across her neck. Thire stares as blood hits his face. Stares as it drips down his face and soaks into the collar of his blacks.

It’s only now that he meets her eyes and watches the panic that hits her. She tries to claw back at the hand holding, tries to tell Thire to help her. Save her. But all that comes out is a dying gurgle. The light in her eyes dims as blood pours down her throat, soaks into the white of her clothes turning it a sick facsimile of the Coruscant Guard colors.

Thire watches her die, watches Enemy #2 drop her body to the floor, watches and watches and watches. Enemy #2 cleans the blade on his black tunic and eyes Thire as if expecting some kind of reaction from him.

Thire looks him in the eyes. Thire says nothing as he grins back at Maul.

It’s hard to forget a name that fits so perfectly.

…

“Where is your brother by the way?” Thire asks as he leads his two new additions down one of the matenice tunnels out of the Guard’s offices and to the streets of Coruscant where these two will be much less obvious.

“He said something about slitting throats before he ran off and left us here.” Savage growls ducking under a pipe and scowling when the edge of his horns still catches it with a soft clang.

Thorn stops to look back at them. Feral gives him an awkward smile and Thorn curses in his head as he mutters to himself, “I’m going to have to look into that later. Fuck.”

…

Fox comes to himself as he’s walking down some empty alleyway in the lower levels of Coruscant. He sighs, heavy and tired as he takes in the aches and pains that come from over-exertion. A sign that whatever he was doing before had to have been more complicated than what Palptine usually uses him for nowadays.

Because Palpatine doesn’t give him blackout missions anymore unless he wants it to be messy. The old bastard figured out pretty quickly that Fox would do anything for his brothers but has a tendency to put his victims out of their own misery with a quick death. CC-1010 however has no qualms with torture when Palpatine orders it.

He doesn’t look down at his armor. Doesn’t take stock of his status. Fox knows there’s going to be blood. The question is whether it’s his own, someone else’s, or some sick mix of both.

He opens up his messages checking through to quickly take stock of what emergencies might have happened while he’s been out of it. Nothing major, a few red alerts but they're all from the GAR emergency system. There is a single message from an unknown contact that catches his eye.

It’s done.

He stares at the message. Then he glares at it and the red alerts that keep popping up on his feed. He’s got a suddenly bad feeling about this.

Before he can think too hard about it a comn comes through from Thorn.

Fox answers it with a quick, “I’m back from a blackout.” Because, unlike some other people, he knows protocol.

“Shit, I was wondering why you haven’t been answering for the last few hours. I’ll tell Shivers to be ready for you.”

“Thanks,” Fox breathes out and closes his eyes, ignoring the sudden headache pounding behind his eyes, “What did you need Thorn?”

Thorn hesitates a second before he says, “Thought you’d like to know that our Stray made headlines today.”

“Please tell me he didn’t do what I think he did.” Fox feels like hitting his head against the nearby wall. Should have specified he wanted Krell taken out quietly, should have fucking specified quietly. Maybe if he hits his head at the right angle and just hard enough he’ll just never wake up from this nightmare.

“I have never seen anyone so fucking dramatic before Fox. It was verging on the edge of hysterically funny when he claimed he was going to cleanse the Jedi of their tainted roots since apparently they can’t do that themselves just before he beheaded Krell.”

“I kriffing hate this man,” Fox groans, “I thought he would quietly assassinate him not make a fucking production.”

Thorn laughs. “You thought the guy who left a senator’s office covered in their own blood would be subtle?"

“He did fine with all the other murders he committed.” Fox rolls his eyes even though Thorn can’t see him. Thorn’s right, of course, Fox doesn’t know why he expected anything different.

“Wait… what other murders?”

Oh, That’s what Fox has been forgetting to do. He’ll need to catch the other commanders up on what’s going on. Even though Fox knows Stone has figured it out and with the way Thire has been claiming the Maul is now his stray Fox can guarantee Thire knows something. Probably helped with that something too.

“Exactly,” Fox says because if Thorn never figured it out that means no Natborn would. Thorn’s smarter than any of Corsec or the Senate Guard combined but Stone and Thire are just on a whole level of crazy that no one else can keep up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thorn asks with confusion rather than any kind of hurt.

“Honestly forgot but you might want to keep the plausible deniability considering Maul’s gone public with the fact that he’s alive.” Fox takes a step towards the end of the alley before he stumbles and realizes maybe he should sit down for a little. “I’m pretty sure Thire’s already involved with one of Maul’s murders so we probably don’t need anyone else getting in the middle of all of this.”

He slides down the wall, right hand automatically covering his left side. He hadn’t realized how dizzy he was until just this moment.

“Oh, is that why Thire has actually been using Maul’s name?”

“If I had to guess, yeah.” Fox breathes in through his mouth and out through his nose. He lifts his hand up. Dark red blood drips down through the cracks of his gauntlet. “Thorn, I need a pickup.”

“Fuck, Fox where-”

He doesn’t hear the rest as he slides fully down the wall and into darkness.

…

Thire has a hand on Maul’s bicep as he drags him into the barracks, all while ignoring the worried looks everyone is giving him. He’d found the Zabrak while out on patrol looking dazed and not fully there. Dissociation. Shivers had to look up that one after the first couple of times they found Fox like that.

So Thire is doing something he’s never done before. He’s shoving down his paranoia and helping the fucker who helped him. Mostly by dragging the bastard into one of the vode’s cuddle piles.

It’ll be fine because it’s Thire that’s dragging him into the room. It’ll be fine because Thire’s paranoia rivals Fox’s and therefore would never do something to put any of his brothers in danger.

There are already several groups set up. Hound passed out between his two shinies plus Mouse who is curled up in his arms lying directly on top of him with Grizzer lying on their legs. Mouse must have had another panic attack. Thire winces in sympathy but moves on to his target.

Fox is in Thorn’s arms, head tucked and hidden from view, with new bruises running down his back and a bandage wrapped around his stomach. Thire knows that Fox has had a blackout mission recently. He also knows how long it takes for Fox to come back from that. He doesn’t know what Enemy #1 does to Fox but even after an assassination blackout Fox comes back with a worse headspace then he left with.

It makes Thire want to do something stupid. Makes him want to stab the old bastard in the throat until he can’t speak ever again. He breathes. Forces himself to swallow down his anger. Not the time. Not yet.

He turns back to look at Maul whose gaze is a bit steadier. Then Thire points to where Thorn and Fox are, “Get in the fucking cuddle pile.” Instead of waiting for a reply and because Thire doesn’t want an argument he shoves the Zabrak down and ignores the yelps that come from Thorn and Fox when the Zabrak lands on them.

So far so good, Thire thinks to himself with a proud little smile.

…

Maul has never liked being touched. Touch was usually a precursor to pain because it taught and it punished and it made Maul stronger. But he hates it. It’s no different in this situation, even though not a single clone here is trying to harm him.

Just the barest brush of skin against his makes him want to flay off the part of him that burns and crawls. He could escape this, the angry clone clearly left him with an escape route. Worse comes to worse he could just as easily fling them all away with a wave of his hand.

He doesn’t. Instead, he allows the angry clone to cling to him, head nuzzled just under Maul’s jaw. It shouldn’t mean anything. He shouldn’t even care. But the angry one’s mind is an open book and he feels safe around Maul. To him Maul is safety and he’s not the only clone in this blasted pile of bodies that feels this way.

It makes him want to scoff, to deny everything, and burn their trust to the ground. Make them regret ever finding Maul, ever helping him.

Then Fox slips an arm over Maul’s side and pulls him flush to the clone’s chest. It burns in the worst way possible. A feeling that can’t ever be soothed by time or recovery. It makes Maul seeth in anger.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t attempt to escape. Instead, he tries to relish in the hate he feels. Only to find the feeling slipping away. Turning into something more akin to awe.

This is an intimacy he has never felt before, and one he’s absolutely certain the clones don’t share except with a select few outsiders. Even then, he’s certain that only he has been pulled into the heart and safety of the Guard’s home like this. It brings forth a feeling that he can’t name or describe.

He swallows the lump in his throat and pretends he doesn’t pull the angry one closer like he can protect the clone from whatever wishes to hurt him.

Maul remembers his lessons. He could never forget them with the way they’ve been seared into his head by Sidious’s teaching methods. His instincts tell him that he should use these clones for all they’re worth and then discard them. That it is the way of the dark side not to trust even your allies. To use those around you to gain more power then discard the pawns that have become useless.

But in those lessons, he also remembers the rants and mockings of his old master about the Jedi and their code. One thing in particular draws Maul’s mind as he falls deeper into the calm the clones surround him with. The Jedi claim that attachments will lead to the dark side. It makes him wonder why his old Master has no such attachments. Why he doesn’t attempt to grasp that supposed strength.

Maul licks his dry lips and thinks as his fingers move through the angry clone’s hair. Claws just barely scrapping the clone’s scalp. He could be stronger than Sidious. Could be more powerful then any Sith before him.

He has all these attachments he could take. All of them within reach and spread throughout Coruscant as they work. Alive and breathing and hurting. He can use that.

Use this anger that bubbles up from somewhere deeper than his own hatred.

He will become more powerful than Sidious and all it will take is falling deeper into the dark side for these clones.