#sorry i kept you waiting for uh. nearly five months lol

[grewlikefancyflowers]

Hi,

Its me again.

I dont know if you have talked about this. But can you please explain the relation between the lan parents, the phoenix mountain kiss and LWJ telling LXC about "he wants to take a person to gusu". I have seen a lot of metas in fandom putting emphasis of LWJs loss of control on QHJ and about how he is not trying to become his father. The novel doesnt give us any evidence if QHJ forced madam lan in doing things nor do i think LWJ is someone who would have judged his father or mother's relationship with the limited information, so him thinking/fearing that he is "following his fathers footsteps" feels ooc to me.

Hello,

I'd say I both agree and disagree with what you say, in the sense that it is my opinion that LWJ was fearful of going down his father's path, but I do also think that fandom often portrays this in a way that seems OOC to me.

I think a problem that often comes up is that people in fandom like to fill in the gaps of the Lan parents' backstory, and have LWJ consider this version of the story they've invented to be the truth. Whereas in the novel I'd say it's important that LWJ knows nothing other than the bare minimum facts, as this is what fuels his conflict and uncertainty about it, and his conflict and uncertainty about his relationship with WWX too (in his first life).

This is all we're told about the Lan parents (sorry for the super long excerpt).

'Lan XiChen continued, “However, the woman did not care for him as much. In addition, she killed one of my father’s teachers. [...] “Why?!”

Lan XiChen, “I do not know. But, I assume that it was something along the lines of ‘grievances’.” [...] “And then,” Lan XiChen explained, “When my father heard of this, of course he was in much pain. But, no matter how he struggled, he still took the woman to his sect in secrecy. Ignoring the objections from his clan, he knelt with her for the Heavens and the Earth without making a sound and told everyone in the clan that she would be his wife for the rest of his life, that whoever wanted to harm her would have to pass through him first.” [...] “After the ceremony was completed, my father found a house and locked my mother inside. He found another house and locked himself inside. It was called secluded meditation, but it was in truth to repent.”

He paused before speaking again, “Young Master Wei, can you understand why he did such a thing?”

Wei WuXian answered after a moment of silence, “He could neither forgive the one who killed his teacher nor watch the death of the woman who he loved. He could only marry her to protect her life and force himself not to see her.”

Lan XiChen, “Do you think that this was right?”

Wei WuXian, “I don’t know.”

Lan XiChen looked somewhat lost, “Then, what do you think would be right?”

Wei WuXian, “I don’t know.”

The recurring theme throughout this whole scene is that both LXC and WWX don't know, they don't know the full facts of what happened, why Lan-furen killed that teacher, they don't know if it was right, they don't know what they would do in this situation, or what a solution would be. And we don't know if Lan-furen willingly went along with the plan so her life would be spared, or if she was forced. Even QHJ doesn't feel his actions were right, because he also locked himself up to repent.

The conflicts at the heart of wangxian's relationship in WWX's first life bares a lot of resemblance to LWJ's parents — LWJ has feelings for WWX, they appear to be unrequited. LWJ thinks WWX is at risk of harm, so LWJ wants to hide him away and keep him safe. But the only way to do so would be to keep him effectively imprisoned, because WWX would never stay voluntarily.

There is plenty of textual evidence that LWJ is fearful (sometimes to an extreme degree) of violating WWX's consent, but I think the primary cause of this fear is actually because of what happened on Phoenix Mountain, not because of his father. (Maaaaybe some of LWJ's conflict is also fuelled by his kinks, but most of the textual evidence comes after the Phoenix Mountain kiss, so I think that's the main factor. Also I just can't stand the LWJ angsting about his kinks trope lol)

Prior to that kiss, there are times when LWJ is actually very inconsiderate of WWX's autonomy, prime example being their confrontation post-burial mound when he simply decides WWX should come to Gusu with him, and grabs at him and fights him without even giving an explanation. When he does give one, its phrased as a command, not a suggestion. In my opinion, it's in this scene that LWJ makes the connection between his father's situation and his own, when WWX makes the assumption that LWJ intends to punish him with seclusion. From the moment WWX said that, LWJ doesn't speak & seems unable to defend his actions, then he leaves. I think it's also relevant that the Wen clan had attacked the Cloud Recesses, supposedly due to QHJ having committed some wrongdoing. Obviously this is just an excuse the Wen clan fabricated, as per their usual modus operandi, but considering this & QHJ's recent death, it's likely that his father, and thoughts of his moral failings, were weighing on LWJ's mind quite heavily at this point in the novel.

I spoke in depth about how the events on phoenix mountain prompted the 'but he is not willing' conversation with LXC in this post so I won't go into again here. In summary, it's because LWJ is confronted with his own fallibility, so he doubts himself and his intentions towards WWX.

While I don't think LWJ after the Phoenix Mountain kiss is thinking anything like 'oh no, I've violated the consent of the person I love, just like my father, an evil man!' as you sometimes see in fandom portrayals, I do think he cannot help but wonder. And because his situation and his father's situation have these similarities, I think he cannot help but compare himself to his father. Especially because he made WWX think he wants to imprison him. But rather than making assumptions about things he doesn't know, the uncertainty is what causes LWJ's internal conflict. For someone like LWJ, who generally places a lot of value of rules, precedent and tradition, the lack of clear answers about what he is supposed to do in this situation is a turmoil that he, at this point is his life, isn't well-equipped to handle.

LWJ's solution is to maintain the distance between him & WWX, to not push into in his affairs, even to take an injured WWX back to the burial mound just because he insisted, in his anguish, that LWJ get lost. But then, WWX dies thinking there is no one left in the world who cares for him.

[hcsfff]

Hmmm for the requests, maybe something including soft grumbo with the title ‘so kiss me in the doorway’ (taken from julia nunes’ song make out, which has such grumbo vibes lol)

Yes, good. I made this part of my vampire Mumbo AU. The AU that exists only in my head

---

There weren't many upsides to becoming a vampire. Mumbo had been functionally immortal prior to becoming one, so even that wasn't a plus. Everything else was a minus in his eyes. He couldn't go out in the sun, garlic was off limits, mirrors no longer worked. It was all a right pain! 

If there was any positive to this situation, it was that Grian had taken up the mantle of being Mumbo's food. Which was a strange way to put it, but Mumbo had to eat and Grian had extremely powerful blood, so he was the best choice. His blood was delicious, honestly. Brimming with a vitality that tasted electric, magical even. One feeding from Grian could easily last Mumbo an entire month. Mumbo hated to refer to Grian as food, but Grian thought it was rather funny and kept teasing him about it. He even wore low necklines after Mumbo bit him, almost like he wanted everyone to see the bite marks. Mumbo didn't understand, but Grian seemed to be in a competition with no one at all to be Mumbo's best friend. He was obviously winning that contest, with the bite marks to prove it. 

Probably the best part of the feedings was that Grian spent the night afterwards. He said he felt weak, but he literally lived five steps away from Mumbo. Half his base was under Mumbo's base. It was really just an excuse, or so Mumbo thought. He didn't mind at all. Grian was so cuddly and affectionate after Mumbo bit him. He wondered if some of his vampire magic was at play, but no one else he ever bit reacted that way. Must be a Grian thing. 

The saddest part was watching Grian leave in the morning. Mumbo had just woken up, Grian was already up and getting dressed. He smiled at Mumbo. "Good morning sleepy head."

"Morning." Mumbo yawned. "Leaving already?"

"Yeah. I have a busy day. Of course every day is busy when you always get distracted and procrastinate." Grian chuckled to himself.

Mumbo nodded, standing up and rubbing his eyes. He would probably go back to sleep after Grian left, he was more nocturnal now, but it was only polite to walk him to the door, right? Mumbo followed Grian across his vault, his eyes wandering towards his neck, where the bite mark was still very visible against his pale skin. 

Grian rubbed his neck, chuckling to himself. "Still hungry, Mumbo?"

Oh. Mumbo had been staring. He shook his head. He wasn't hungry, but in a way he enjoyed looking at that mark. Was that a side effect of being a vampire? He couldn't deny that he enjoyed biting Grian. It was satisfying in a way that was hard to explain. Like finally itching a scratch that had been bothering him all day. Seeing his handiwork just made him proud? Maybe.

"Sorry. I guess I'm not quite awake yet." Mumbo awkwardly rubbed his own neck. He had no idea what he was even thinking about now. 

"Get some more rest. I'll talk to you later." Grian hit the button on the wall that opened the vault door.

The sounds of pistons nearly drowned out Mumbo's voice. "Wait!"

"Hmm?" Grian looked back at him, the sunlight from outside bathing him in light. 

Maybe Mumbo was still hungry. No. That wasn't right. There was something else he wanted though. Some other desire that needed to be fulfilled. He pushed his index fingers together, trying to put this desire into words. "I uh. I was wondering. Before you go."

"Yeah?" Grian grinned at him. 

"Can I have a kiss?" If Mumbo had the blood to blush, he would probably be bright red. Maybe he was, he did have Grian's blood! That was too strange to think about. No, the only thing he wanted to think of was kissing Grian. That's what he really wanted, wasn't it? Oh no, he was being far too forward. Grian must think he was such a fool. He might never come back to feed Mumbo ever again.

Except at those words, Grian stepped back into the vault. He grabbed Mumbo's tie and pulled him down. With no warning, his lips were suddenly upon Mumbo's, kissing him like there was nothing else he rather be doing. It had that same light, tingling feeling, only this felt even better than drinking his blood. Mumbo kissed him back, for once grateful he didn't have to breathe, because he was certain his very breath had been stolen away.

Grian broke the kiss, looking up at Mumbo with a bright red face. He opened his mouth, barely whispering, "You can have my kisses whenever you want."

Then he rushed out the door, holding his face in his hands. Mumbo sat down on the stairs, feeling like everything was spinning. Had that really just happened? He was so happy and embarrassed at the same time. He had a feeling that the next time Grian came over it would be a lot more than just for Mumbo to eat.

[fangirlovestuff]

A Perfect Tree - Jake Jensen x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! sorry this is soooo incredibly late, this is for @donutloverxo​, @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​‘s Hoelidays challenge and it’s new years eve... (happy new years btw!!) i hope you still enjoy this fluffy one, i’m really glad i got to write something for jake because i love him:)

Summary: You meet Jake when he comes into the coffe shop you work in to get himself a drink, and you’re immediately curious.

Prompts: Coffee Shop AU & Decorating the Christmas tree

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: a few curse words, maybe implied age gap but reader is in her early twenties and jake is in his late twenties, so not that extreme

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

You were a student, so working afternoons at a coffee shop was the most reasonable way to make the money you desperately needed to get you through college. Right now, it was a hot spring day, so there weren't any people in the shop, which gave you a great opportunity to have a little unplanned break to stare at your phone and turn your brain off for a few moments, something you rarely had time to do.

However, after a few minutes the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. You sighed internally, mourning your short-lived break before lifting your eyes to greet the customer.

All of your dismay faded once you got a good look at him, and only one thought remained – fuck. He's so cute.

His broad frame was making his way towards the counter, and he was looking at his phone as well, not lifting his eyes until he got just in front of you, and of fucking course he had the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen. You swallowed heavily.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" you said in your best customer-service voice, letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn't fumble over your words.

"Um, I'd like…" he said, his eyes scanning the menu he picked up from the counter, "an espresso please. Long." He lifted his eyes from the menu and maybe it was just you, but you thought you saw his eyes scan your face for a brief second. He smiled at you expectantly.

"Uh, sure thing. That'll be… five thirty. Anything else?"

"No, just the coffee," he smiled again.

"Alright. And your name please sir?"

"Jake."

"Okay then Jake," you smiled and lifted your eyes up to meet his gaze after you were done typing away the order, "you can just grab a seat, I'll call on you when it's ready."

"Perfect," he nodded, before sitting down at one of the further tables.

Once sat down, you could release the breath you didn't know you were holding. Get a grip, you thought at yourself before moving to make his order. But you couldn't resist sneaking a peek at Jake from the corner of your eye every few moments.

He was hunched slightly over the table, typing away on a laptop he somehow already managed to turn on. His gaze was focused, concentrated, which allowed you all the gaping time you wished. You noticed the way his taut muscles stretched with every movement of his arms, his tight t-shirt looking like it was about to rip apart. You noticed the way he licked his lips in concentration, the motion seemingly automatic. You noticed his brows furrowing as his eyes scan-

Shit, you nearly spilled his coffee!

You hastily righted the cup and came to the counter to hand it to him.

"A long espresso for Jake?" you called out with a slight smile.

His head shot up and he got up to get his coffee and pay. As he passed you the money, his hand grazed against yours. It was warm, and you thought he left it in place just a bit longer than he needed to, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Thank you," he said, a sincere smile on his face. You just nodded at him, and before you could think of anything of value to say he was already walking back to his table, sitting down and sipping his hot coffee with caution.

He sat there for a little bit longer, typing on his computer and drinking. You thought he looked a little worn out, tired, but you were probably just projecting. You huffed out a breath and went back to work.

When he left, he just nodded your way with a smile and you nodded back, giving him a small wave as he left. Oh god, a wave? Really? God, you're pathetic.

That was the first time you met Jake. As time went by, he would often come into the coffee shop to work, or at least that's what he seemed to be doing on the computer. Sometimes he came in looking extra tired, and a few times even with a bandage or a scratch, but you never asked his why. After all, that was never your business.

You learned more things about him, in short conversations over the counter as he waited for his drink. You learned his last name was Jensen. He told you he was a technician, but something about the glint in his eye as he said that told you that wasn't probably the entire truth. Nevertheless, you never asked, not wanting to be rude or cross any boundaries.

Jake had the tendency to disappear sometimes. There were weeks he'd come in nearly every day, and then two weeks went but when he didn't show up at all. It raised your suspicion, but obviously you didn't do anything about it. Hell, you didn’t even know what you were suspecting him in.

One day, he came to the coffee shop earlier than he usually did, at an hour he was the only one in the shop besides… well, you.

He ordered his usual and sat down at his table. You turned your back on him to clean up the machine behind you when you heard him call your name.

"Is there a problem?" you asked, confused.

He got up and walked towards you, holding something in his hand.

"I'm afraid I have to return this napkin," he handed it to you with a smile.

You frowned, "What's wrong wi- oh," you smiled upon unfolding it. He wrote down his phone number, with a little 'xo' at the end. "Oh, now I see what's wrong with it. I'll go get you a new one," you said.

You grabbed a napkin and scribbled your number down on it. "Is this one better?" you asked with a smile, handing it to him.

"Much better," he smiled, his hand purposely hanging onto yours for longer than necessary when grabbing it. "Thank you," he winked and turned to leave.

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

You and Jake have been dating for almost a year now, and this was the first Christmas you were spending together.

"No, Jake- gimmie that!" you laughed as he kept the sparkling orbs high above his head and out of your reach.

"Not until you apologize," he tutted with a smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry I called you a grinch," you drew out. "I only did it because you were being one. Now can we please decorate the tree already?" you pouted.

"I wasn't being a grinch!" he insisted.

"See? That's exactly what a grinch would say!" you laughed, "You can't just turn off my Christmas music when I'm mid-jam session!"

"That's not called being a grinch, that's called being considerate of our neighbors," he smirked, but gave you the ornament he was holding anyways. You stuck your tongue out as you took it from his hands, hanging it on your Christmas tree.

Suddenly you smirked and started singing as loudly as you were before, "All I want for Christmas i-" but before you could hit the high note, Jake simply picked you up over his shoulder and started carrying you away.

"No wait," you said in between fits of laughter, "I'll stop I promise, just let me decorate the tree!"

"Alright," Jake chuckled and put you down. "But no more singing! You don't want to get on the naughty list," he smirked.

"Who said I didn't?" you smirked right back, and before he could reply you were already walking back towards the tree. Jake joined you and you both decorated in silence together, his getting to all the high places.

After a while, all that was missing was the star, and you walked back to enjoy your handiwork. "I think we did a pretty good job," you told Jake, who was getting the star out and handed it to you. With a smile, he gestured and you hopped on his back, wrapping your legs around his unfairly slim torso as you carefully put it on top of the tree.

"Perfect!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down as he put you down again.

"Almost," Jake replied with a grin. "I have a surprise for you. Um… here, put these on," he gave you his glasses and you put them on, immediately blinking harshly.

"Jake, you are so blind!" you yelled as you rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't want you to see the gift!" he yelled back excitedly.

"You could've just told me to close my eyes!" you giggled, as you did that anyways. Glasses with the wrong prescription were a nightmare.

"Well, I see you're doing it anyways," he said, his voice closer than you expected, as you felt him reach out and take the glasses off on your face. "Open your eyes."

You opened them, blinking a few times before registering what he was holding – a little coffee cup ornament, that said 'I love you' on the side. You pounced on Jake and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, whispering "I love you too, dork," into his neck as he held you.

When you backed away, you could see his face was stretched into a grin. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it," you pecked his lips sweetly before taking it from him and hanging it on the tree.

You stepped away, your back leaning against Jake's chest as he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," you answered back with a smile, tilting your head back to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

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

hope you liked it!! sorry it was so late, it’s been a rough month (and year lol). heppy new years, i hope you have a safe and wonderful new year!<3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[royalcalum]

Must Love Dogs

Featuring: Calum x reader

Warnings: language, mentions of being catfished I guess... it’s just straight up fluff tbh

Summary: As an up-and-coming Twitch streamer, you’re used to befriending people online. When you start getting cozy enough with one fan for them to ask for a ride from the airport, you find out who you’ve really been talking to for six months.

Author’s Note: I’m going to try to start rewriting some old fics (mainly Calum tbh) to make them more realistic (lol as if this is realistic) and better in general so this is a rewrite of “blurb request lol 4/4 where you're whole relationship has been on the internet like you met on twitter or something and you finally meet at the airport after like five months idk this would be really cute and it's like my dream :----(“ Not beta’d

It started as an innocent fan and creator friendship. You’d been streaming on twitch for a while and had gained a decent sized following, averaging about 500 viewers per stream. Needless to say, your comments section was a little difficult to keep up with. But even with the quick scrolling of new comments with each statement you made, you noticed one name in particular whose comments were always funny or sweet instead of crude and vulgar, like some of those your mods were frequently deleting.

When that same username followed you on Twitter not long after you took notice of them, you were quick to follow back. You’d followed a few of your “fans” before, so it wasn’t unusual. Hell, it wasn’t even odd for you to DM back and forth with some of your followers. What was out of character was becoming attached to one of those fans.

All you knew was his first name (Calum), his age (24), and his location (LA) before you started talking regularly. He had asked for your number at one point, but was understanding when you said you don’t give out that kind of information. For you, it was a relief to finally talk to a man who not only enjoyed your streams, but didn’t make you feel objectified and demeaned. For him, it was a relief to finally meet someone who liked him instead of his name or money.

Communicating with him grew difficult when he flew to Australia to visit family. The time difference still gave you time to DM every day, but staying up late wasn’t quite the same when it was just afternoon for him. You’d already spent five months talking to him and as much as you hated admitting it, you had started to care for this mystery man despite never seeing his face. That never stopped you before (Corpse, anyone?), but for all you knew, “Calum, 24, California” was actually “Craig, 42, Alabama.”

When it came time for him to fly back to LA, you were surprised when he asked if you wanted to meet up when he got back. Like, right when he got back. As in “my friend can’t pick me up and I don’t want to ask you of all people to suffer through LAX traffic so I can just get an Uber if I need to but it’d also be nice to finally meet if you could give me a ride from the airport,” back.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t apprehensive. He was technically still a stranger you met on the internet and you couldn’t guarantee he wasn’t going to overpower you, take your car, kidnap you, and murder you somewhere in the desert. But you took precautions and told your roommate and a couple other friends where you would be and when to expect you back. If things went well and you spent more time with Calum, you’d call them and tell them, no texting.

Two days later, you stood next to your car parked outside the baggage claim for his airline. You didn’t even know who to look for, but he knew what you looked like — obviously, since you met through your twitch stream.

As people started to flood out of the airport doors, you started to wonder if you had been duped. Would this be a story worthy of Nev and Max? Being led to an airport just to be stood up? More and more people left the terminal while you took up space with your car. You’d get a ticket if you didn’t leave soon — your car may be running but you were technically parked in the loading zone — and your anxiety just continued to grow. He wouldn’t lead you on for nearly six months and stand you up at LAX, of all places… right?

Just as you looked down at your phone again to let your roommate know you might be back sooner than expected, you heard your name called from a few feet away.

And when you looked up, you were starstruck.

“You motherfucker,” you laughed as he got closer. “You knew I was a fan from my stream! That’s why you didn’t want to FaceTime!”

He laughed with you and didn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug.

“It was fun getting to just talk to you,” he defended. “I didn’t want you to unintentionally treat me differently just because you like my band.”

It felt nice to not only meet him, but feel him. He held you tight against his chest, his arms circling your shoulders with yours around his waist. And his thick sweater gave you a soft cushion to rest your head against as you just held each other. You pulled back from his hug but kept your hands on his ribcage, his resting on the sides of your neck as you asked, “How did you end up on my stream?”

“Someone tweeted a clip of you singing one of our songs from an older stream so I decided to check you out. I thought you were pretty and fun so I came back for more.”

For a second, you just stared up at him in multiple stages of shock. This was Calum Hood. From your favorite band. He just hugged you. And called you pretty. How could you handle this?!

But you could handle this. Because he was also the guy you had been talking to for the past six months. The guy you stayed up late talking to and who sent supportive messages when your chat got too aggressive and told you stories from his childhood. You knew him. You just had to let yourself realize the man you’d grown to care about personally was also the man you cared about as a fan.

Holy shit.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sliding his hands down your neck and over your shoulders to your upper arms as he looked down at you with concern etched on his face.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s just taking me a second to really let this all sink in,” you admitted.

“Yeah, now that we’re here, I’m realizing I probably should’ve broken the news in a less, uh, spontaneous way,” he laughed nervously, dropping his hands from you and shoving them in his pockets instead.

You should’ve just kept your mouth shut to keep those hands on you. Or if luck was on your side, he’d have his hands all over you later.

“I mean, I’m not mad about it,” you shrugged. “It’s just not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” he asked with a smirk.

You let out a sigh. “Honestly? I was kind of expecting to either be stood-up or meet a 42-year-old balding man from Alabama with a beer belly named Craig.”

“Wait… his beer belly is named Craig?”

“No, he is named Craig, you doof!” you laughed, gently shoving Calum’s arm.

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said with that same smirk on his lips.

“Oh believe me, I’m anything but disappointed,” you replied with a quirk of your own lips. “So, am I taking you to your place then?”

Calum started loading his luggage into the backseat of your car as he spoke to you. With only two checked bags and a carry-on, he didn’t have much, but clearly wouldn’t let you help as he hoisted everything in.

“Yes, please,” he said as he shut the car door. “As excited as I am to finally meet you, I really miss my dog.”

You gasped and immediately perked up. “Duke?!”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Oh my god, yes!” You ran around to the driver’s side and impatiently waited for Calum to get in and buckle his seatbelt before weaving through the waiting cars to get out of LAX. Fortunately, Calum got in on a late night flight so the traffic wasn’t as bad as you’ve seen before.

“I feel like you’re more excited to meet my dog than you are to meet me,” Calum pouted from the passenger’s seat.

“As excited as I am to finally meet you,” you started with a direct quote, “I really love dogs.”

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: mickey is walking with Franny when Terry shows up. Mickey protects Franny. Franny runs home where ian and family are and shouts that a man is hurting uncle mickey. Basically hurt mickey, protective ian. Ian conforting Mickey afterwards!

anon this is so GOOD !!! i LOVE some mickey & franny content, plus gallavich comfort :’) this is somewhat intense and got way too long lol, but the whole thing was so fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

also my asks are open for more prompts! (since i am on winter break & bored out of my mind lol)

& ofc, tw for homophobia and physical violence

--

“C’mon kiddo! Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Yes, Uncle Mickey, yes I can!”

The sun was beating down onto the slushy pavement of the South Side, reflecting off the gritty late-winter snow that remained on the sides of the road and nearly blinding Mickey as he tried to lightly jog down the slippery sidewalk, just outside of Franny’s reach. Franny, who was a tottering bundle in her thick winter coat, a scratchy-looking red woolen scarf Tami had given her for Christmas, and a pink sparkly winter hat Debbie had forced over her ears before Mickey took her outside to play, was running as fast as she could to stay on Mickey’s heels.

Mickey hadn’t meant to take Franny as far away from the Gallagher house, into the winding South Side neighborhoods, as he had—Debbie was having some sort of meltdown about her business going to shit after a situation with organic snacks and climbing out a window (Mickey wasn’t even going to ask)—and sensing tensions were high, Mickey had pulled Franny out the back door to run around and play “gangsters,” her new favorite game, with the toy guns he’d gotten her for Christmas. They were going to stick to playing in the backyard, mostly because it was fucking freezing and almost dark outside, until Franny was about to encroach on Mickey’s fictional gang’s territory under the porch stairs, and of course Mickey couldn’t have that—so now they were racing through the streets, with Franny giggling and practically tripping over her own clunky winter boots every few steps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Wonder Woman? Come and get me!” Mickey called to Franny over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get you! I will, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey chuckled as he kept running, and felt his heart soften. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, and how often he always froze in panic anytime he’d had to take care of Yev back in the day, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

And that also just made him depressed, because he knew that she was going to grow up surrounded by all of this bullshit—the dysfunctional family, Frank’s shenanigans, the drugs and beat downs, the mom with an ankle bracelet. Right now, Franny was just a kid—the neighborhood hadn’t taken its toll on her yet.

Luckily, Mickey didn’t have shit to do all day—he barely had a job aside from security for Kev and V’s practically non-existent pot side business, so he had plenty of time to play with Franny. If he could do anything with his life right now, he could make sure that Franny had some happy memories to cut through all the bullshit life was inevitably about to throw to her.

Mickey continued to run, lost in thought, until Franny caught up to him and sharply tugged on the back of his coat.

“I win, Uncle Mickey, I win! Now I’m gonna blow your face off!” Franny said with a playful scowl as she held up her toy gun.

Mickey chuckled and put his hands up in the air in resignation, turning to face Franny. “Alright, kid, you got me. Nice work.”

He held his hand out for Franny to high-five, which she gave willingly before pulling off her sparkly pink hat and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m too hot. Uncle Mickey, can we go home now? I think I know the way back.”

Mickey ruffled her hair. “Sounds good, kiddo. Lead the way.”

Just as they were about to start walking in the direction of the Gallagher house, a gruff voice came from behind them, mingling with the blowing wind.

“Mickey?”

Oh fuck.

Mickey turned around slowly, giving a quick mental prayer to whatever god that existed, if god even did fucking exist, that the voice he heard wasn’t the one he thought he had.

In the end, it was as bad as his worst nightmare.

Terry stood six feet in front of him on the ice-caked sidewalk, a lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth (just like it always was), his hands visibly curled into fists by his sides. Mickey took in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the wave of panic overtaking him. Calm the fuck down. Mickey tried to remember the checklist of what he always had to do when he saw his dad, a survival tactic he hadn’t had to think about for months: Keep your eyes down. See if you can smell alcohol. Look at his waistline and see if he has a gun.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to Terry’s pockets. No gun, thank fucking god. He slowly reached out behind him to take Franny’s tiny gloved hand, mentally cursing himself for letting them walk this far from home. Then he looked Terry in the eyes and swallowed. You can do this.

“Hiya, pops. What’re you doing over here on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, his stance still aggressive, but he remained rooted a safe distance away. “Don’t make fucking small talk with me, fairy boy.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. About time for a family reunion.”

Terry gave a bitter, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver of remembrance down Mickey’s spine. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh. It’s Debbie’s kid.” My niece, he bit back. My husband’s sister’s daughter.

Franny looked up at Mickey, not in confusion but in wide-eyed understanding. Franny was only five, sure, but she wasn’t stupid; she’d seen her fair share of violent shit go down on the street in front of her, and she knew what aggression looked like—what it looked like when someone was about to attack. Mickey looked back at her, and ever-so-slightly raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a warning. Get ready to run, kid.

“Huh.” Terry threw his cigarette butt on the ground, slowly grinding the ash into the slush with the toe of his shoe. “Funny that you’re out here with her, all on your own. No one else on the street, not for blocks.”

Mickey exhaled, attempting to still his racing heart. On a different day, when he wasn’t so caught off guard by Terry’s presence, he would have ended this here and now; pulled a gun and put a bullet right through his father’s homophobic skull. But Terry was right—there was no one outside for miles, no one stirring behind the curtains of the houses lining the streets, no one to call for help if Terry physically overpowered him and kicked the life out of him. And Franny was still holding his hand.

“Yeah, well. We’re just goin’ for a walk. And we’re gonna head back now, if you’re… done.”

Terry held Mickey’s gaze, unblinking. When he spoke, his voice was low and ice cold. “When the fuck was I ever done with you?”

It all happened in an instant, but also in terrifyingly smooth slow motion—Terry charged at Mickey, fists raised, skidding across the ice in a blur.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you deformed excuse for a Milkovich!”

Terry was seething with the same fiery anger as when he flipped the table at Yevgeny’s christening, the night he found out that Mickey was gay—as he raced across the pavement, all Mickey could do was think about how to get Franny out of here before his father’s fist connected with his face. He gently shoved Franny behind him towards the sidewalk leading to the Gallagher house.

“Go, Franny, go!” He choked out, before Terry thrust a punch to his stomach and Mickey doubled over, kneeling on the damp sidewalk.

Terry’s shadow hovered over Mickey, and he knelt down, grabbing the hair at the scruff of Mickey’s neck. Mickey could smell his breath, all stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, like it had been for the past thirty years of his life.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” Terry said through his teeth. Mickey gathered every ounce of strength that he could— thank you, Kev Fit membership— and crashed his own head into his father’s, toppling him over and pinning him down. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, and saw Franny’s bootprints leading down the street, saw a flash of a red scarf turning the final corner a few blocks down. Thank god.

Terry squirmed under Mickey’s iron grip on his wrists. “Get off me, assfucker!”

“Sorry, Dad, no can do.” Mickey could almost grin. All he had to do was knock his dad out cold, and this whole thing could be over—

Out of nowhere Terry’s right arm broke free, striking Mickey’s side and toppling him onto the pavement.

“I’ve got you now,” Terry drawled, and that was the last thing Mickey heard before Terry’s boot stuck into his side and he saw stars.

**

The sun had almost set beneath the clouds, casting a warm glow through the front windows of the Gallagher house. Ian and Carl sat in the living room, engaged in particularly immersive debate about the accuracy of cop drama TV shows in an attempt to drown out Debbie’s continued melodrama of reading her bad Yelp reviews.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, there’s no way an EMT would actually get to the scene that quickly anyways—"

There was a soft series of frantic knocks at the front door, so gentle Ian barely would have heard it if the TV volume wasn’t turned to a low hum. Ian sprang up and swung the front door open to… Franny?

A tear-stained, snow-soaked Franny, with matted hair and a scarf hanging half off her neck.

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Ian, we have to go help Uncle Mickey!”

What the fuck?

“Franny, what’s the matter?” Ian tried to gently guide her inside out of the cold, but Franny stomped her boots and shoved Ian’s hand away.

“We have to go now Uncle Ian! A man is hitting Uncle Mickey! We have to go quick!”

Ian froze. Shit. There were plenty of people who wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of Mickey, most of whom Mickey could take— but regardless, Ian didn’t want anyone fucking up Mickey’s parole.

“Oh, shit. Okay. Franny, can you take me to Uncle Mickey?”

Franny fervently nodded. “He’s up the street. I was chasing him when we were playing.”

Ian turned to call over his shoulder. “Hey, can anyone help me back Mickey up in a fight with some dude?”

Carl put his hands up in resignation. “Don’t look at me, man. I should be a mile away from any instance of Mickey breaking his parole.”

Sandy darted into the living room, from the kitchen where she had been consoling Debbie. “Mickey’s in a fight?”

“Apparently. He was playing with Franny down the road and now Franny’s back here.”

Sandy looked at the disheveled Franny standing in the doorway. “Shit. I’ll grab my shoes.”

“Uncle Ian, we have to go now!”

“Okay, we’re coming Franny. Lead the way.”

**

Franny guided them down the sidewalk, the three of them casting dark shadows onto the roadside piles of snow as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. “This way!”

Ian didn’t really know what he was expecting to see as they turned the final corner, the street almost totally enveloped in darkness— maybe Mickey pinning some guy up against a wall, or in the back of a cop car. But he was certainly not prepared to see Mickey as a static heap sprawled on the sidewalk, while the unmistakable figure of Terry Milkovich stood above him, pummeling Ian’s husband.

Sandy noticed Terry’s presence before Ian could even react to what was going on. “Uh, Franny, hey, can you walk back to the house please?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Ian’s feet were sprinting down the street. “Terry! Get the FUCK off of him!”

Ian could barely register his body’s movements as he smashed his fist into Terry’s nose and tackled him to the ground. Terry spit in Ian’s face. “Fucking Gallagher!”

Ian hit Terry once again, keeping him pinned down. He struck him over and over, not stopping to process if he was even moving, or breathing, or fighting back.

“Hey! Everyone calm the fuck down!”

Ian looked up over his shoulder—Sandy was standing above them, pointing a gun directly at Terry, whose face was now bashed and bloody.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, my dear Uncle Terry,” Sandy said in a sickly-sweet voice that didn’t match her iron gaze. “Ian’s going to get off of you, and you’re going to stand up and walk down the street back to your shithole house. And you’re going to watch your fucking back, because you never know when I could decide to come home one night while you’re asleep and make you regret everything you did this evening. Are we clear?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, panting as he stayed pinned beneath Ian. “Those Gallagher queers got you too, huh?”

Sandy cocked the gun even more aggressively in Terrys direction, her thumb teasing the safety.

“That’s not how it works, dumbass. Unlike some pieces of garbage in this neighborhood, the Gallagher family actually cares about each other. Now—are we clear?”

Terry scowled at Ian, and gave a curt nod. “Get the fuck off me, fag.”

Ian didn’t budge. “Sandy, no,” Ian snarled.

“Ian, we’ll deal with him later.”

Ian looked up at Sandy, who met his eyes with an expectant gaze, still holding the gun directly at Terry. It took every ounce of strength Ian had to kneel and rise from the ground—it would be so easy to knock Terry out, to tell Sandy to pull to trigger, to put all the pain he’d caused behind them. To finally feel safe.

Terry immediately stood, and looked at Mickey on the ground, practically unconscious and his blood mingling with the snow. Terry opened his mouth to say some final retort— but Sandy clicked off the safety of the gun, steadily pointing it in his direction, and Terry promptly closed his mouth again. He turned and walked away.

Ian was immediately at Mickey’s side. “Fuck, Mickey, fuck.” Ian choked out. “Hey, look at me.”

Mickey had definitely hit his head, hard—there was a gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face, just like the night of Yevgeny’s christening when they’d watched Terry be forced into the back of a cop car. He looked up at Ian, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. Ian quickly scanned the rest of Mickey’s body—aside from a few solid kicks to the ribs, his head injury seemed to be the only major issue. Ian gently ran a hand through his hair.

“Mickey, hey, can you stand up? We’ve gotta get you home.”

First, get Mickey home— only then could Ian actually let himself process everything that had happened, and swallow down the bile rising from his stomach. First, Mickey had to be safe.

Sandy leaned over next to Ian. “Do you think we’re gonna have to carry him?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Can you grab his legs?”

**

Mickey forced his heavy eyelids open, hazy and disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The blurry outlines of he and Ian’s bedroom, cloaked in darkness, slowly came into focus. He could feel the scratchy crocheted blanket on top of him, but aside from that his limbs were so heavy and numb he could barely move. A dull pain throbbed in the back of his head. Fuck.

“You awake?”

Ian was curled next to him in bed, not touching any part of Mickey’s aching body but leaning in close, nearly a centimeter away. Ian’s hand reached up and gently wiped a damp piece of hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey winced.

“Sorry. How d’you feel?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” Mickey croaked. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m. You’ve been out for a few hours,” Ian replied in a low voice.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes. They were silent in the darkness for a few moments, but Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him. “My head fuckin’ hurts. What’s your prognosis, doc?”

“You definitely have a concussion. It probably won’t be a big deal in a week or two. You don’t need stitches or anything, though. And I did some EMT magic on your ribs, which mostly just means I put ice on them while you were sleeping.”

Mickey smirked, his eyes still closed—partially from the headache, but partially because he didn’t want to look Ian in the eyes yet. “Franny okay?”

“Yeah, she’s all good.”

“And, uh. Terry?”

He could feel Ian stiffen beside him. “Probably at home, being the same lowlife asshole he always has been. Sandy pulled a gun on him.”

Mickey opened his eyes, and could see through the darkness that Ian’s own eyes looked puffy and worn. It killed him to see Ian suffering, once again, because of him— it felt like they were always battling something at every turn, sure, but in Mickey’s case, it was almost always Terry they were fighting against.

“Fuck. When I’m less tired, and my body feels less like shit, remind me to go kill him, yeah?”

Ian laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I almost tried that tactic myself. I think Sandy scared the shit out of him, though. We’ll figure out what to do if he… acts up again.”

Mickey knew it was a lot more complicated than that, and that in the morning he would probably be seething and grabbing his guns and marching down to Terry’s house with fire in his eyes, but they didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Right now it was quiet, and Ian’s body was pressed against his, and Mickey was wrapped in a warm blanket in a bed with his husband. They were safe.

“I’ve thought I’d lost you thousands of times, Mick, but tonight really scared me” Ian softly whispered, cutting through the silence. “I thought… I don’t know, when I saw you on the sidewalk, I thought after all the shit your dad has said, I might’ve been too late.”

Mickey took a sharp breath in, making his ribs sting, while Ian kept talking.

“When you were in jail, or in Mexico, I knew you were always out there, and I guess knowing that always kept me going. But knowing I could have lost you again tonight—I don’t know, it scared the shit out of me,” Ian said, his voice breaking.

Mickey mustered all the strength he had, and slightly shifted his weight onto his left side to face Ian, whose eyes were glassy. Beneath all of Ian’s macho shit the past few weeks, it was so easy to look at him and forget that he was still also that tired, scared kid from the South Side that Mickey met ten years ago, one who didn’t know if good things could be permanent or if other people could stick around. Mickey put his hand up to Ian’s face, running his thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey—gently at first, like he was gliding his fingers over something precious, and then fully wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the hair on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, feel the warmth radiating off of his biceps that encircled him. Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head, where his forehead met his hairline.

“I’m here, Gallagher,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s skin. “I’m not going anywhere. No one’s gonna change that shit.”

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“illusion”

Chapter 13

Yo it's been a while! Sorry about that, I've been busy working on another fic (Triad, if you want to check it out). Anyway, here's the beginning of a fierce battle lol- things will not go as planned. I also forgot how to write fight scenes lol but that's okay bc the emotional moments here are nice. Anyway, enjoy!

WARNINGS: description of graphic injury. Also, I’ll be making an sfw version of this soon so stay tuned!

AO3 LINK (WARNING- THE WORK IS OVERALL SPICY MINORS DNI)

"There are injured civilians and Magic knights throughout the city! Some might be shipped out as POWs soon, but that's why we're here, to stop it! Our primary objective is to clear the area of innocents and the injured, then wait for reinforcements from the Silver Eagles to arrive and drive out the enemy. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

There's barely a second to waste, so Captain Hervey barks out his orders to us as we shoot towards the border town, finally coming into view. My heart is pounding, my hands gripping the wood of my broom handle so tight I'm surprised it hasn't cracked. Alice holds onto me as I drive, bent over a bit to avoid getting a face-full of my hair as the wind whips through it. All of us are here on brooms, except Julius, who went off ahead by himself to scout out the area. His absence just makes me more nervous. I hope he comes back soon- what if they were waiting for him, and he gets captured, or worse-

My thoughts are (thankfully) cut off as Hervey continues his spiel. "Once Julius gets back with info, I'll split you up into groups, then deploy you. Remember, try not to attack the enemy until all the civilians are out of the way."

I nod slowly to myself, my eyes still transfixed on the city. There's smoke rising, and I can hear magic blasts from afar. This morning, the vague order came directly from the Wizard King: "The border town of Lullin has been under siege from the Diamond Kingdom for three days. They have finally broken through the Crimson Lion Kings' defenses. Your squad will hold them off until the Silver Eagles arrive as backup."

And that was it. The strange thing is, none of us knew about this siege, even though it's been going on for three days! We land on the outskirts, out of sight from any of the forces inside. The town was walled, as are many border towns, and the fight is going on within the pit. Was it kept secret on purpose? Whatever was going on here, it was now our problem. The Grey Deer were used more as a diplomatic squad, escorting royalty, nobility, and foreign visitors. Most of the battling was done by the Silver Eagles and the Crimson Lions. But today must be desperate, because here we are, nervous as can be, getting ready to jump into our first real fight in a while. 

"Well, at least we get to kick some Diamond ass!" Nigel, of course, is rearing to go, even though I suspect this newfound confidence is just a way to cover up his own nerves. He does a few lunge stretches, which at least lightens the mood. "Giles, lets have a contest!"

Giles, who looks like a corpse right about now, nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of his name being called. "Huh? I don't think this is the time for a contest!" he objects.

"No, no, it'll be easy!" Nigel smirks and hits his hand into his palm. "Whoever takes out the most diamond guys wins!"

"Take out? Like, KILL?!"

"No! Like- take out-"

"You didn't think this through, did you?" Alice asks, her face not matching her teasing tone. "Don't bother keeping count... just..." Her gaze drifts, and it's obvious that her next words are meant only for Giles.

"Don't... get yourself killed because you're distracted. Just survive." Her smile reappears, just a whisper. "Alright?"

Giles stares at her for a long second, the sunlight shining on his glasses. You can see the understanding start to dawn on his face, and even he manages to smile back, a smile meant to quell her worries.

"Of course. Right back at ya, Alice."

Suddenly, there's a loud whoosh and a CRACK in our encampment. We whirl around to see Julius land there as powerfully and gracefully as usual. My lips part for a moment in a quiet sigh of relief. He's back! And unharmed!

"Julius, what's the situation?" Hervey demands, turning to walk over to his Vice Captain. "How many are there?"

Julius takes a moment to catch his breath before answering. "A lot..." He shakes his head. "Maybe a hundred Diamond mages. Plus their General."

There's a worried murmur among the squad at the mention of the General. Instead of captains, the Diamond Kingdom army was led by their "8 Shining Generals," who were rumored to be as fearsome as they come. If one of them was here, and had already defeated the Crimson Lions, how on earth are we supposed to make any headway?

"Dear God..." Hervey twists his goatee anxiously, his forehead creasing at least five times as he considers what to do. "Do you know which one?" He glances up in time to see Julius shake his head. "Well, we're going in blind... perhaps we should stick to the perimeter-"

"The Crimson Lions are being kept hostage in the center of town," Julius cuts in before his captain can finish. "The General is stationed in there I believe. As for the residents, they're being kept in their homes in several areas of town. I don't know what the enemy plans to do with them, but I think we should try and evacuate them before the Silver Eagles arrive." He glances around at the rest of us. "We'll split into four groups. Three will sweep the houses and evacuate civilians. Me, Captain Hervey, and a few of you will head for the center and cause a distraction." His gaze hardens for a moment as the orders are issued. "We should be able to accomplish this quickly. I don't want any civilians to get caught up in battle once the Silver Eagles are here."

We all nod silently in agreement. Hervey opens his mouth to say something, but even he can feel it; When Julius spoke, everyone's nerves were eased, if only for a moment. For a moment... it was like Julius was the Captain.

With that, Hervey splits us up into groups and tells us to prepare ourselves.  I get put into a group with Wren, Giles, and Martin, which I'm not thrilled about, but at this point I'm to jumpy to even care. Everyone is tense, their hearts pounding adrenaline through their bodies. Alice sits on a rock and taps her foot. Martin starts biting his nails. Malota and Hervey talk together quietly. Julius hasn't spoken- or looked at me for that matter- since we left the base. Now, he stands alone on the ridge overlooking the passage to town, his face turned away from me so I have no hope of reading it. But his shoulders are squared, his head held high, and his stance sure. Whatever lays ahead, he's ready and confident. My heart starts pounding for a different reason, but I shake my head to rid it of any intrusive thoughts.

I have to clear my head, to get ready for this... I have to focus more than anyone else here.

Using my Illusion magic is tricky enough, and even more so in the fray of battle. I have only seconds to read someone's face, cast my spell, and generate an image of something in their mind that will stop them from attacking me. Like with those bandits before, I'll probably go with injuries that will shock them. I squeeze my eyes shut taking in a deep breath.

Injuries... injuries...

It would be so much easier if I could see my own illusions, but by nature they only appear in the minds of my targets. I have to transmit that image as convincingly as possible if it's going to do anything. And in order to do that, I do... research. I have a box full of medical textbooks and trauma first aid manuals under my bed, which have some pretty realistic pictures inside. Every time I crack open a page, my stomach turns and I feel dizzy, but I force myself to look. 

It hurts that much just to study... I can't imagine how it must feel to see that injury appear on your body.

But now I have to do just that. I have to hurt people again.

Maybe it'll feel nice... I suck in another breath through my nose, squeezing and releasing my fist a few times.

I've been hurt a lot lately... maybe it'll feel nice to finally hurt someone else.

I imagine what it'll be like, when enemies are attacking and I have no choice but to use my power. I already know, that every single one of them will have Lawrence's face plastered on in my mind's eye.

Before I can think to hard about it, I hear someone crying. 

Blinking slowly, I remove myself from my trance and turn to see someone slumped behind a tree, their head hanging and their arms hugging themselves like they were the only real thing left in this world. "Um... are you okay?" I take a few cautious steps, walking into the treeline and realizing that it's none other than Cecelia who's crying.

As soon as she hears my voice, she looks up, her eyes already swollen and red. "Oh- uh- yeah-" She reaches up and starts to wipe her face frantically. "I-I just got really nervous for a second, I t-think I'll be fine now-" She lowers her hand and takes a deep breath. But, when she releases it, more tears burst out. With a whimper, she covers her face, her shoulders trembling.

She's scared. Well, we're all scared, but she lets it show on her face. Her eyes are overflowing with water and she bites her lip hard to keep it from twitching. 

She's... so scared...

"Cecelia..."

Without really thinking, I walk forward and pull her into a hug. Cecelia freezes up for a moment, her face planted right into the fluffy shoulder of my robe. I give her a squeeze.

She's only 15... and yet she has to go to war with the rest of us.

"I don't really remember my first battle. I was your age though," I start to say, not exactly sure where I'm going with this. Lately, I'm the one who had to be comforted, so being there for someone else isn't coming as naturally as I would like. But I have to do the best I can. "I bet you won't even remember this in a few months."

Slowly, Cecelia nods and lets her hands come up to hug me back, but her crying does not cease. "Are you s-sure?"

...no.

"Of course." I stroke her hair gently, my heart clenching more and more.

Oh god... if anything happens to her...

"Hey, what's going on here?"

We both look up to see Alice peek around the tree, her eyes widening when she spots Cecelia's tears. "oh! CC..." Instead of being paralyzed like I was, Alice immediately melts into a grin before stepping forward. "Give me your hand."

Hesitantly, Cecelia, lets go of me and lets Alice take her small hand. Alice bends down just a little to look the girl in the eye, her irises glinting with golden determination. "You're nervous, right?"

Cecelia nods.

"You can say it, it's okay."

"I...I-I'm scared..."

"That's perfectly alright. But listen-" Alice clasps her other hand over Cecelia's. "You're in my group, right? So I'll protect you! No matter what. And you're going to protect me too!"

Cecelia's breaths are still shaky, but somehow she manages to smile as well.

"I will..."

"Promise?" Alice sticks out her pinky finger, causing Cecelia to giggle. They lock fingers and shake once. 

"Promise!"

The somber air is gone now, replaced by something more hopeful. I let out a relieved sigh before turning to leave. I wish I was as good as Alice, I think sadly. She's so good at handling these types of delicate situations. She's always been my rock... Could Alice really be involved in my attacks? Was she really part of that plan?

... no. Of course not.

"Hey! You too!" I look back to see Alice and Cecelia looking at me. "Promise me you'll protect yourself, and everyone else in your team," Alice repeats.

"Well, maybe not Martin-" Cecelia pipes up, grinning as both Alice and I collapse into peels of laughter. "I'm kidding, guys!"

"Cecelia, never change-" I tell her through a giggle, reaching up to wipe my own eyes. "And yes... I'll protect everyone, I promise."

With that, there's only mere minutes before we have to set out. The fear in my veins is still there, but my new-found confidence beats it back into being silent. This is just like many fights and battles before. Maybe on a larger scale that I'm used to, but it's just another fight. A fight that I will probably forget within a few months. I leave Alice and Cecelia alone, stepping back out into the meadow. Once again, my eyes are drawn to Julius, still standing by himself on the ridge. Should I go say something? I gulp nervously, my heart fluttering a little. Part of me doesn't want to bother him, but at the same time, I wonder if I will regret passing up this one last chance.

"... hey."

Julius looks to his side as I finally walk up to him, my eyes fixed on the city in the distance. "Oh, hi. I was wondering if you were going to come keep me company."

I shoot a glance up at him to see him smiling, and my nerves melt away immediately. "Ah, I see... well, better late than never?"

"For sure." He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again to study my face. "Well... it's been an... eventful day, hasn't it?"

I gulp nervously, glad that we're facing away from the others because my face is definitely starting to heat up. "Um, yeah, I suppose it has-" I let out a breath of embarrassed laughter, the memories of earlier this morning flooding back. These past few days were crazy, and something tells me it's just going to get worse. "I'm sorry, I guess-"

"Sorry? For what?" Julius winks. "I enjoyed myself, you know." I raise an eyebrow, my heart pounding a little. Between last night and this morning, things between us have... escalated. And now, on the horizon of battle, there's nothing I'd like to do more than throw myself into his arms and hold him one last time. I'm sure he'll be fine, but I don't want to die without that...

But we can't. I feel eyes burning into our backs, watching us closely. Malota, I know, is watching. She and Alice alone know about me and Julius, and any wrong move could set off an explosion. 

"If anyone should be sorry, it's me." Julius finally speaks again, his eyes narrowing slightly as sadness pools within them. My breath catches in my throat at the look, and I almost want to start crying right then and there. "I... hope you don't feel like I'm taking advantage of your situation, because you're vulnerable. And I hope you know that I was serious about everything I said before, and-"

Suddenly, he's the one who seems desperate to confess something, even though he's been honest with me from the very start. I can't do anything but stare at him blankly, dumbfounded that he's apologizing, before blinking away my shock. 

"You're special to me."

And Julius... you have no idea how much I want to love you. 

My heart strains hard at the walls I put up around it, begging me to set it free and finally surrender it to someone on my own terms. But this isn't a good time... in fact, it's the worst time possible. So I keep it imprisoned just a little longer.

"Julius-"

He stops talking as I reach out. I want to touch him, to rub up his chest, to grab the collar of his shirt and shut him up with a big kiss. And from the look in his eyes, I know he wants the exact same thing. 

But I don't do that. I just let my hand land on his shoulder, like a good comrade would.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Honestly." I offer him a smile, one that I hope comforts me just as he does.

Slowly, Julius nods, then reaches out to grab my shoulder as well. We stand there, still, for a moment, but any longer and people would start to think. So I let go, and he does the same. "We need to go." Julius inhales deeply, the sadness gone from his eyes. "Be careful, alright? There's a lot I want to talk about when this is over."

"Oh?" I shoot him a wink as I step away. "And a lot you want to do with me, right?"

Julius's eyebrows pop up in surprise, but he can't suppress a grin, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and nose. "Of course, of course. I still owe you a reward, don't I?"

I open my mouth in mock shock, even though that one comment is sending my heart reeling once again. Oh my god, I better survive today! I'm not sure what Julius has in mind for that "reward" but something tells me that it's going to be something I'll remember for a long, long time. 

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

As soon as we part, the world descends into a blur. Hervey is once again shouting orders, and everyone jumps onto their brooms, ready to go. In one swam, we lift off the ground, but then our groups break off to surround the city. "Hey! Loser!" I look over to see Alice grinning at me as she starts to zoom away. The wind muffles her words, but I can just make them out. "See you later!"

"You too!" I smile and give her one last wave before turning away.

Wren, Giles, and Martin fly behind me, silent but already with their grimoires out. I squint my eyes against the wind as I watch the center of the city like a hawk, where Julius and the others will be causing a distraction.

Any second now... come on-

It happens; the entire area grows cold, and a huge spike of ice rockets up out of the earth like some evil, jagged tower. "There! That's the captain's magic! Let's go!"

"Hell yeah!" Wren lets out a hoot as we start to spiral down to our assigned sector of the city.

"Hold on! Don't go so fast!" I yell over to him. "Someone's gonna see us, we need to give them time to get distracted-"

"So? We're here for a fight!" Wren smirks. "Anyway, it's not like you're in charge, I'm the oldest here."

"Maybe Giles should be in charge!" Martin pipes up. "He has glasses, right?"

"Martin, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said." I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing to God that I had been paired with Julius or Alice or anyone other than these two. "Fine, Wren, you lead us, but for the love of GOD, please don't do anything dumb."

Wren's ego is just growing by the minute, and he even does a fist bump in midair. I roll by eyes at him before looking back down at the city, and notice some soldiers running out of a large building and towards the center of town. "There!" I point out. "That's where-"

"Where the prisoners are being held!" Wren cuts me off rudely. "Martin, you head towards the closest wall and start making a hole in it. I doubt we'll have time to escort the civilians to the main gate. And you two-" he glances over at Giles and I. "We're going in hot, so get ready!"

"Aye aye!" Martin swoops away towards an abandoned section of the wall, his brown grimoire already flipping open. I don't have time to watch him activate his wood magic and land, because Wren, Giles and I start our dive. The wind whips around us, and the few Diamond guards still stationed at the building finally notice us. "Look out!" They start to open their Grimoires, but it's too late.

"Illusion Magic: Sudden Death."

There's seven of them, more than I expected, but the two that I don't manage to transmit the illusion to stand there shocked as their comrades suddenly start screaming and clutching at their stomachs. "Huh? What the hell? What's wrong?" 

"Feather Magic: Harpy's Fury!"

They look up just in time to see a barrage of sharpened feathers shoot down at them. The projectiles cut and stab, until the remaining enemies fall to the ground in an unconscious heap, just in time for the three of us to make our graceful landing.

"That was awesome! Did you see me take those guys down?! Did ya?!" Wren nudges one of the fallen with his boot, getting no reaction in return.

Giles puts his broom down and frowns curiously at the enemy through his spectacles. "What did you do to them?" he asks me. "I mean, what did you show them?"

I shrug. "Not much..." I gulp nervously, forcing myself to shut the images away in a compartment of my brain. "Intestines usually does it."

Giles winces a little, but shakes his head. "Well, you distracted them-"

"Come on! We're going to be slower than the other teams if you keep chit-chatting!" Wren yells, already halfway through the door. Giles and I exchange an exasperated look before running after him.

To our surprise, the first halls seem rather empty. If I had to guess, this is some sort of common area for the town. Which means that there's a large, central room, perfect for holding a large number of prisoners. There's probably more guards stationed around there-

Sure enough, we turn the corner and come across an opening. There's a large double door, barricaded shut, with three guards in front. They seem surprised to see us, but we don't give them time to act. Well, more specifically... Giles doesn't."

"Horn Magic: Mighty Ox!"

With a loud yell, Giles balls up his fists and punches forward with both at the same time. Right on cue, two sharp, massive horns form around them, spotless ivory shining in the lantern light. As he thrust forward, the horns broke free, rocketing towards the enemy. With a resounding bang, they went flying back, breaking through the door and skidding to a stop on the tile floor beyond. "There!"

"Damn, Giles-" I can't help but say, my mouth twisting into a smile. Giles, soft spoken, bookish Giles, was a beast! No wonder Alice liked him so much. 

Giles brushes off his sleeves before giving me an uncharacteristically confident smile. "Surprised? You've seen this magic many times."

"Yeah? And it still blows me away every time."

"GUYS?" Wren suddenly wines. "Come on, we have a shit ton of people to save."

I don't answer, just sticking my tongue out at him briefly before running to enter the great hall. Just as we thought, it's packed to the brim with people, frightened civilians who are huddled together on blankets and flimsy looking cots. "Y-You're Magic Knights!" one of them exclaims, tears edging her eyes as she realizes that they are saved. 

"Yeah, yeah, we're the Grey Deer." Wren crosses his arms as he "kindly" addresses the crowd. "Everyone, get up and get moving! We've prepared an escape route to get you all out of here before the Silver Eagles get here to kick these guys' asses!"

There's a flurry of movement as people jump up, grabbing their meager belongings and scrambling to get ready. Wren gives us a worried look, his eyes narrowing slightly. I know what he's thinking: this is going a little too smoothly. Let's get out of here. "Giles-" Wren turns to address him. "Make a hole in that wall over there. It's quicker than walking all the way back through the building."

Giles nods, bringing out his grimoire once again. "Right!" He directs his attention to the wall, his back to us. "Horn Magic-"

Midsentence, I see it appear on his back. A ball of energy shoots between Wren and I to hit him, and on impact I see his body freeze in place.

My eyes widen, not quite taking in the sight, not before it's too late.

"GILES-"

"AAAAAAH-"

Giles's body crunches up, a quickly growing spot of green foam spreading over his back. His shirt dissolves along with it, and I see that his skin has been burnt an angry red color. With one last agonized cry, Giles stumbles and falls to his knees, shaking with pain.

What?! Wren and I finally react, spinning around to see a group of ten mages coming into the room behind us. One of them, the man in front, wears a fluffy black coat, his hair slicked back over his head, and a wide, cruel smile on his face. Three stones are embedded in his head, one on each cheek and another above his lip. His grimoire is an acid green color, matching the magic that hit Giles, and floats open in front of him. Wren and I stay frozen in place, our heart pounding as if we were in the sights of an apex predator.

Because... that's exactly what this man is.

Almost in slow motion, he speaks.

"Slime Mold Magic... release."

A shuddering breath is ripped from Giles's throat as the magic leaves his body, returning to this man's Grimoire. I glance back to see him sit up, still pale and shaky. Shit! Who is this guy?! I turn back to look at this new enemy. He's strong, I can tell... oh god... 

"You three... Magic Knights. I can tell that you're young." The mage licks his lips. "And full of potential. We value that in the Diamond Kingdom. It's not something I should waste." The way the words leave his lips is akin to a hiss from a snake. "So, I'll give you one chance... leave now, and I won't harm you."

"No way!" Wren immediately answers, his hand on his Grimoire. His eyes hold none of their usual mirth; only shrewd observation as he takes in his options. I nod slowly along with him, still formulating a plan of my own. "We came here to save these people, and that's exactly what we'll do."

The mage laughs, the cruel sound echoing through the hall. A few of the frightened civilians behind us are whimpering in fear. "Foolish children... do you really want to feel the wrath of one of the Shining Generals?"

"H-Huh?" The threat takes me by surprise and I can't help but let the gasping word leave my lips. "But..." I glance at Wren, who has gone pale as well. "Wasn't the General supposed to be in the center of town?"

"Silly girl." The Mage laughs again, louder this time, his Grimoire already flipping to a new page.

"Did you think we'd only send one?"

ooooooooooooh noooooo MC has to fight a shining general now... with two questionable comrades lol. How will this turn out? Find out whenever I decide to update again lol!

[snifflyjoonie]

Bless You, Too

In which being a florist and a sympathy sneezer sometimes makes Jimin’s life harder than it needs to be. (Especially when a cute customer comes in and starts sniffling.)

Snz-centric with Jimin & Yoongi as the “sickies” and no one as the caretaker lol.

Word Count: 2590

FlowerShop!AU Part 1

Part 2 

a/n: This is an AU! Just a heads up. There is also implications of Yoonmin (which I hope you don’t mind, anon! <3) Alright guys! I’m excited this took me way less time than normal. I love AUs so this was a lot of fun. I hope I did the request justice! It was a super cute prompt lol. I hope you guys enjoy, as always!!

-

The small tinkling of his floral shop’s overhead bell pulled Jimin’s attention away from the book he had been reading while slouched lazily against the front counter. 

“Hello! Welcome!” He called automatically, quickly slipping one of his business cards in-between his current pages as he straightened himself upwards with a tiny grunt.

The client, a blonde haired man who looked to be somewhat close to his age, gave an acknowledging nod in his direction before shuffling his way towards one of the shop’s many displays. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Jimin asked politely as he tried to flash the stranger his best customer service smile. “Anything you’re trying to find?”

The man shook his head and hummed a disinterested sounding “Mm, no thanks. Just browsing” while keeping his back to Jimin as he spoke.

“Alright, well…If you need anything just let me know!” 

The man simply nodded again as Jimin rested his chin into his hand. He always disliked the customers who never wanted his help. He loved talking about flowers and explaining their meanings to clients and it was disappointing when he wouldn’t get the chance to do so. Plus, he had just reached a very interesting point in his book, and couldn’t continue to read until the client was gone. He just hoped the man wouldn’t drag his feet for too long.

Jimin let out a tiny sigh he hoped the man couldn't hear as he watched him meticulously investigate the various bouquets and arrangements they had displayed around the shop. He was actually pretty cute, Jimin noticed, and he wondered what may’ve brought him in today. Someone’s birthday, perhaps? His mother? His sister? His… girlfriend? 

Jimin sighed again. That was probably the reason. It was mid May, and with no holidays coming up anytime soon his small flower shop thrived on birthdays and personal events. Men like the blonde stranger really kept his shop running during the slower months.

He watched on as the man picked up a beautiful premade bouquet of pink peonies and snapdragons, the plastic wrap crinkling delicately under his touch. He looked as if he was going to smell the arrangement, but instead glanced over his shoulder towards the florist, who quickly looked away.

Jimin stuck out his bottom lip in an almost pout as his gaze now stayed firmly glued to the cover of his book. He had been staring, he just realized, as he fiddled with a loose thread on his apron absent-mindedly. He only glanced back up when he heard the man clear his throat, assuming he may’ve been trying to grab his attention.

Instead, the man was hastily returning the bouquet back into its holder, his free hand balled into a fist and still resting beneath his nose from when he had cleared his throat a moment earlier. He then took a few steps away from the bouquet, but the steps were sort-of hurried and clumsy. His brow wrinkled slightly, and Jimin could see his eyelashes start to flutter. He knew that expression all too well. He had become accustomed to it, what with owning a flower shop.

With his fist still pressed beneath his nose, the man took one final ragged breath in before snapping down hard at the waist.

“hA’IKSHhhuhh!”

“Bless you!” Jimin called out politely as he tried to ignore the way his own nose twitched slightly in response. 

He was a very empathetic person by nature and found out early on that this trait translated over to sneezing as well. He had always found it sort of funny growing up, as did most of the people around him, but becoming a florist had made this trait more of a nuisance than anything else. He himself had never had problems with flowers — he didn’t think he could survive being a florist if he did — but there were always a handful of clients that would turn into drippy, itchy messes after just setting foot into his shop for only a few minutes. Unfortunately, by the end of their visit, Jimin would usually be right there with them.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was make a particularly sneezy client feel as if he was mocking them, but truly, he just couldn’t help it; For whatever reason, watching someone sneeze just made him itchy, too.

The man straightened himself up and nodded in Jimin’s direction as best he could, but one of his hands lingered expectedly in front of his face and Jimin didn’t have to wait long to see why.

“Hh—hH’IIkKshHhiu! Ghuhh, shit.” The man groaned as he swiped at the underside of his nose with his thumb before finally turning to face the other. “Sorry, thanks.”

Jimin brought up a hand to rest onto the tip of his own nose hesitantly, already feeling himself flush red now that the stranger’s full attention was on him. His nose tickled viciously, and he was definitely going to sneeze, but he had hoped the other simply wouldn’t notice. Now however, there was no way out of it.

“No...no probhh—hH’NXg’tshiew!” He quickly clamped his hand around his nose and mouth, ducking harshly into it as he tried his best to stifle the sneeze.

He could hear the man scoff as he rose back up, and opened his eyes just in time to see him fold his arms across his chest.

“You too, huh?” He commented sarcastically, bringing his index finger up to swipe quickly beneath his nose.

“Uh...yeah,” Jimin sniffled, slightly embarrassed. “Sometimes…”

For whatever reason their shared sneezing seemed to break the ice, and the blonde began to walk his way over to the front counter with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. 

Jimin gulped thickly. The closer he got the more he could feel his stomach churn with nervousness. The man really was handsome, and when he finally reached the counter Jimin could hardly keep himself from blushing.

“You know,” The man began, the corner of his lips twitching up into a hint of a smile. “I pass by here almost everyday on my walk to work but I’ve never actually come in until now.”

Jimin nodded, very aware that he would’ve remembered this man had he seen him in the shop before.

“Do you own this place?”

He nodded again, unable to find his words as the stranger’s dark eyes looked him up and down.

“Wow, that’s great. How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh no, not at all!” Jimin finally spoke, his voice an entire octave higher than normal. “I’m, uh, twenty-five.” He cleared his throat into the back of his wrist as the stranger flashed him a gummy smile.

“Mmm,” The man hummed in understanding and glanced down towards his shoes. Jimin could just barely make out the slightest hint of… what was it, amusement? in his tone. “Younger than me and you already have your own business. That’s impressive.”

Jimin scratched the back of his neck and gave a tiny smile in appreciation.

“Well, thank you…” He murmured shyly, trying to ignore the way his stomach filled dangerously with butterflies from the unprompted compliment. “I just...really love flowers. You know what I mean? I worked really hard to get here. It’s all I ever wanted to do, really.”

“That’s admirable.” The blonde smiled again but Jimin could see it starting to falter, and before long, he was wiggling his nose in clear discomfort. “I love flowers too but I could never r-run a shop...I—I’m!! hA’ISHHhhiu!” He swiftly twisted his upper body away from the front counter and sneezed harshly into his awaiting palm. It took him a full second before he rose back up as he sniffled wetly into his hand and glanced almost sheepishly in Jimin’s direction.

“B-bless yo-hh!! hH’ITSChHhiuew!!” Jimin echoed the stranger’s sneeze, spinning on the balls of his feet before snapping down into the crook of his elbow. He groaned before straightening himself back upwards; he was slightly worried the man might be offended, but instead was surprised to find him biting back laughter.

“Bless you, too.” He offered coyly. “I was going to say I’m a bit allergic, but it sounds like you might be, as well. Maybe there’s hope for me, yet.”

Jimin quickly shook his head as he wiped at his nose with a forefinger.

“No, no! I’m really not.” He tried to clarify, flushing slightly under the man’s gaze. “I just...sort of…” He tried to search for the right words, ultimately deciding on “um...sneeze a lot…” To which the blonde snorted.

“You just sort of sneeze a lot, huh?” He teased, chuckling lowly, “Clearly you and me, both.”

Jimin managed a nervous laugh back, one that just sort of bubbled its way out of him, before he blew out a breath and fiddled nervously with his apron.

“Anyway...was there, uh, anything I could help you with?” He asked, watching as the blonde raised his eyebrows at the question. “W-were you looking for a bouquet? An arrangement? For… a… family member? ...a girlfriend?”

The stranger smirked.

“No, no. No girlfriend, no family birthdays coming up.” He shifted his weight a little and kicked at an imaginary pebble. “I...honestly, don’t need any flowers. I can’t, really…” he trailed off, tapping the side of his nose as if that explained it enough before he let out a long sigh. “You know how I said I walk to work? How I pass by here all the time?”

Jimin cocked an eyebrow curiously, but nodded none-the-less. He wasn’t quite sure what the stranger was getting at but was eager for him to continue.

“Well…” The blonde pressed on, absentmindedly flicking at the tip of his rapidly reddening nose. “I see you nearly everyday as I go by. Sometimes you’re outside writing on your sign, other times I just catch a glimpse of you through the window.” He sort of scoffed to himself at the thought before continuing. “I just...you always seem so friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a smile on your face. And your shop—” He looked around for a moment before turning back to Jimin. “It’s beautiful. I wanted to come in before to look around and tell you, but…” He laughed to himself, and if Jimin really squinted, it almost looked like he was blushing. “The flowers really mess with me. I don’t think I’d be able to go to work afterwards.”

“W-what made you come in today, then?” Jimin asked, genuinely curious. “Aren’t you just going to have the same problem?”

“It’s my day off.” Hummed the man before he fished out a small box of antihistamines from his pocket. “And, uh, these.” He murmured before shoving them back into his jacket and resting a knuckle onto his nose. “B-but they’re n-not really h-h-help—hI’KTCh’iuew!” The blonde rocked down into his hands with an attempted stifle before sniffling thickly and scrubbing a knuckle into the corner of one of his eyes. “Aah, -snff- fuck. They’re not really helping me, much.”

Jimin couldn’t stop his own nose from scrunching as he watched the stranger wriggle his, and he quickly brought the back of his hand up to scrub viciously into the base of his nostrils.

“Yeah,” he managed, voice wavering, “The flowers can be pretty oh...overpowering somet— hih! imsorryi— hH’TSHhhiuew!” Jimin hurriedly whipped himself to the side and ducked down deep into his elbow as another itchy sneeze burst its way out of him.

The blonde squeezed his eyes closed and laughed as Jimin regained his bearings, straightening himself upwards with an unamused pout stuck firmly on his face.

“Bless you,” the stranger offered as his laughter began to peeter out. Jimin grumbled out a thank you as he rubbed circles into the phantom itch that still lingered at the base of his nose.

“I’d offer you one of my antihistamines but, uh,” The man dragged a finger beneath his nose and sniffed wetly. “They’re not doing much for me right now.”

Jimin opened his mouth to protest and to try and explain how he really wasn’t allergic to the flowers but the blonde cut him off, extending his hand in Jimin’s direction.

“I’m Min Yoongi.” He smiled before thinking better about shaking hands, instead choosing to wipe his hand onto his pant leg before shoving it back into his jacket.

“Park Jimin.” Offered the other, the back of his hand still pressed against his nose as he sniffled quietly.

Yoongi opened his mouth like he had more to say, but the tiny chiming of the shop’s overhead bell caught both of their attention.

“Hello! Welcome!” Jimin called out to the young woman who entered as Yoongi took a deliberate step back from the counter. Jimin hadn’t even realized he had gotten so close. “Need help finding anything today?”

“Actually, I was hoping to discuss wedding planning with you, if that’s possible…?”

Jimin glanced at Yoongi apologetically but the blonde merely shook his head in understanding and gestured towards the client. Jimin lingered for only a moment— just long enough to watch Yoongi scrunch up his itchy nose— before he grabbed his event binder and scurried off to discuss dates and arrangements with the shop’s new client. 

They had only been talking for a few moments when he heard the overhead bell chime again, and he shot his head up just in time to catch Yoongi leaving, but not before the blonde snapped at the waist with another allergic sneeze. (A sneeze that ended up coaxing another out of Jimin as well, which he did his best to stifle against his shoulder.) 

Jimin couldn’t stop himself from feeling disappointed about Yoongi’s swift exit. For whatever reason, the blonde had made his stomach flip with warm anxiety, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever see him again. He knew deep down the man probably wouldn’t step foot back into his shop, especially if his allergies were anything to go by, but he hoped maybe he’d catch him on one of his walks to work, at the very least. Maybe he’d even work up the courage to say hello. He definitely wished he had gathered the courage to say goodbye.

Pushing the thoughts of Yoongi as far out of his mind as he could, Jimin did his best to finish up with his new client before trudging back to the front counter as she happily exited the shop, satisfied with Jimin’s excellent customer service. 

The florist sighed and stretched his hands high above his head, cracking his neck in the process. He didn’t have much else to do today, and drummed his fingers absent-mindedly against the countertop before ultimately reaching back out for his book. He ran his fingers along the pages before flipping it back open to where he had left off, pausing only when he noticed something scribbled onto the business card he had used to hold his page. He picked it up curiously and within seconds felt his face flush. 

There, written in bright blue ink, was a phone number — and directly underneath of it, a name: “Min Yoongi”. 

Jimin couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto his face as he held the business card to his chest. He mouthed the name “Min Yoongi” silently to himself a few times, trying to commit the name to muscle memory before he pulled out his phone and hastily added the number in. 

Maybe he’d see Yoongi again, after all. Just maybe.

[beca-mitchell]

fool’s gold (1/1)

Summary: Beca finds herself in Colorado bidding on a date with one Chloe Beale. Accidentally, of course. Besides, it’s for charity. Set after PP3.

Word count: 4,216

Rating: T

Read below or on AO3.

Beca finds out about it accidentally. A total accident wherein she did not intend to find out this information. She had been perusing the Bellas groupchat, a chat which she had been slightly too busy to participate in recently, when something caught her eye.

Chloe’s name plus the word “date”. It had taken a few tries and a few shaky swipes of her finger before she figures out that Chloe is participating in some charity event.

Beca hesitates at first, about to type out a message to Chloe right in the groupchat, but she quickly switches over to her private conversation with Chloe and winces when she realizes that her and Chloe haven’t really kept up an ongoing text conversation (and hardly any phone calls) over the past few months.

Beca sighs, flipping back to the groupchat and hoping against hope that somebody else—probably Aubrey or Flo—will ask Chloe about it.

Flo F. What kind of charity is it?

Chloe Every year, the senior vet students run some kind of fundraiser. This year it's for research. In the past, this auction thing has been a huge hit!!

Fat Amy So you’re selling your body? Nothing wrong with that of course.

Chloe No, I’m just…auctioning off a date.

Beca puts her phone down slowly.

Had three and a half years really flown by that quickly? Chloe was almost done with veterinary school and Beca felt like she was still struggling to stay afloat herself.

Well, that was a little untrue. Six Billboard Top 100 hits, a Grammy nomination, a North American tour with an international tour on its way, her first album had gone platinum with the second hot on its heels—

It’s just that Chloe Beale had always seemed so wholly unattainable even with everything that had transpired between them. And Beca wasn’t completely stupid, she knew some of this was her own fault, but life just came at her too fucking fast.

(This being the whole ‘we definitely have feelings for each other but we are also definitely not doing anything about it because one of us is in Colorado and the other is in California sometimes but not always’ thing. God, that always knocked the wind out of Beca. In any case, it had been one weekend of Chloe visiting Los Angeles and a drunken kiss that led to a little more, but nothing really, then an unspoken decision to never speak about it again.

Yeah. This.)

— — — — — 

It takes Beca another two hours to finally message Chloe and she almost has a heart attack when she pulls up their conversation.

Chloe’s last sweet dreams! xo stares back at her accusingly. 

Beca So, a date huh?

She groans. 

Yes, obviously a date. Aubrey already asked for more details an hour ago and the groupchat had long moved on.

Chloe’s reply is nearly instantaneous.

Chloe ?? 

Beca The whole auction thing you know for charity 

Chloe oh haha, yeah. It’ll be nothing. Just some rich student with too much to spend. I don’t have my hopes up or anything.

 But if Chloe could have her hopes for somebody in particular…Beca’s fingers tap anxiously on the edge of her table as she stares back at Chloe’s innocent-enough message.

  Beca oh, well fingers crossed lol

Chloe yeah.

 Beca winces at the one-word response, telling herself not to read too much into it—it doesn’t mean anything, they’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine—

  Chloe I miss you

She sighs in relief.

Beca miss you too chlo

— — — — —

“You didn’t ask her out yet?” is Theo’s confused inquiry. “Wait, you weren’t dating already?”

“Just—just look up flights to Colorado.”

“I’m not your assistant, just in case you forgot.”

“I know, but Jeff’s on the fritz today and I don’t need another snide remark from him.”

“Snide remark? About what?”

“…about Chloe.”

“Ah.”

 — — — — — 

 Beca isn’t sure how she ends up here, but she ends up doing some casual research about this supposed senior tradition at CSU’s veterinary college and it ends up being more of a thing than Beca originally expects. Like a super serious thing where people buy tickets to attend. 

All proceeds go to the National Animal Disease Center and the Animal Welfare Institute. Tickets at the door will be $55.

Beca stares at the long list of details and scrolls for an embarrassing amount of time until she finds a list of “Auction Participants”. She exhales noisily through her nose when she finds Chloe’s name, surprised to see separate profiles attached to all the students participating.

Chloe Beale, Rising 4th Year Veterinary Student, DVM Candidate

Chloe enjoys singing and morning runs. She will probably fight you over whether the CSU Rams could hold up against the Barden University Knights. In her spare time, she enjoys volunteering at Larimer Humane Society as well as the CSU Zoo. You might have seen her running a few weekend educational programs for children 10 and under.

PS. She’s single!

Beca isn’t sure what grates on her more, the fact that the description doesn’t say anything about how Chloe hums her favorite songs when she gets nervous, or how Chloe’s hair grows at least a shade and a half lighter during the summer, or—or how Chloe can talk at length about nearly anything if she thinks it’s something that another person will find interesting. She is selfless and beautiful inside and out. 

And that last line. Beca’s fist clenches. She isn’t sure why it annoys her so much, but she hates the idea of this auction gimmick even if she knows instinctively that it is all in good fun and Chloe genuinely wouldn’t have consented to it if she didn’t believe in it or trust everybody who would be participating. Still, maybe Beca doesn’t want Chloe to…be single.

Her brow furrows at that last tapered-off thought.

To distract herself, she taps Theo’s number into her phone and waits with bated breath.

“Hello?”

“Did you book the ticket yet?” she asks in lieu of greeting.

She’ll let his amused chuckle slide this once.

 — — — — — 

 So maybe it isn’t really an accident.

She’s in Fort Collins, Colorado, on a beautiful but pretty damn chilly campus. Beca pulls her windbreaker tighter around herself and tugs her scarf up over her mouth and nose. She hasn’t been recognized yet, but she has a suspicion that there have been two young ladies following her, but she can’t be certain.

Though her fame is manageable, it still flares up unexpectedly and at inopportune times.

Like the last time she had visited Chloe on campus and they had spent the weekend eating at Chloe’s favorite spots and drinking cheap wine until they were laughing and leaning heavily against each other. Beca had loved the scent of Chloe’s shampoo as it wafted up from where Chloe had her head pressed against Beca’s shoulder and neck, her giggles tapering off into nothing. Back then, they hadn’t kissed yet—Beca was still recovering from the sting of seeing Chloe kiss Chicago even though it had happened months prior, but nothing had ever transpired.

And for a moment, when Chloe lifted her head off Beca’s shoulder, Beca had thought Chloe was going to kiss her. And she wouldn’t have minded, not at all. It had been something she had been thinking about for so long that Beca’s heart began to pound in anticipation. Then Chloe’s roommate had let herself into the apartment despite Chloe’s insistence they were going to be alone and she had recognized Beca surprisingly quick considering Beca had only one or two viral music videos released at the time. Beca hadn’t been sure, but Chloe had looked supremely disappointed.

Focusing back on the present, Beca gazes at the familiar, yet unfamiliar campus. She had made sure earlier that there hadn’t been a completely strict dress code for the event and opts for a loose wool sweater and nice jeans (a memory of Chloe’s fleeting “those jeans make your ass look good” passes through her mind, but she pays it no mind). She buys a lanyard with the CSU name and mascot emblazoned on it. Just to add to the look.

She finds the student center soon enough. Happy to be out of the chill for a moment, Beca pulls her scarf down but leaves her toque on, keeping it tight over her eyebrows.

“Hey,” a voice calls instantly and Beca jumps because for a moment, it sounds like Chloe. But that would be impossible, she’s barely been there five seconds— “I know you, you’re Chloe’s friend, right?”

Beca turns to see young man, around her age, smiling in a completely nonthreatening manner. She vaguely recognizes him from some of Chloe’s social media posts, but she can’t quite place his name. “Hi,” she says instead.

“Did Chloe invite you to this?” he asks, sounding entirely too amused for Beca’s liking.

“Uh…” Beca isn’t sure what the better answer would be—yes, Chloe invited poor hapless Beca Mitchell to watch her get auctioned off and alternatively the implication that Chloe would need some pull from somebody like Beca which is dumb because despite the crappy dating profile on the website, Chloe needs no help at all; or no, Beca invited herself because she’s there on a mission. “Hm,” she says evasively instead. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Benjamin, but you can call me—”

Beca smiles. “Ben,” she finishes. It’s cute how much he reminds her of Benji. “Chloe posts about you a lot.”

“Yeah, we kind of…” he laughs, pushing up his glasses. “Bonded, I guess. She’s been a good friend. Helped set me up with my boyfriend.” He nods his head towards the door. “Want to come sit with us? We’re mainly here for the show and the food. Do you have your ticket?”

Beca blushes but tamps it down as best as she can. “Uh no, I was gonna buy at the door.”

He grins again, but says nothing about that. “Okay, we’ll see you inside. We’re kind of near the back. Turn left when you get in.”

 — — — — — 

 The emcee is fairly decent and Beca cracks a laugh at a few jokes. She has a pretty good view of the stage and she feels comfortable enough sitting near Chloe’s friends. They seem to take a shine to her and teasingly press an auction paddle into her hands.

“For an emergency,” Ben says, mirth in his eyes. And something akin to knowing, as if he knows something Beca doesn’t. She tries to scowl at him, but she misses that opportunity because Chloe is being walked on stage looking like—

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, blushing when she can feel eyes on her. There is no way Chloe can see her in the crowd because she’s sure the spotlight is bright enough based on Chloe’s squint and embarrassed smile. But otherwise, Chloe looks stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress and white doctor’s coat. Beca blinks back the unexpected surge of emotion—not quite tears, but her eyes do sting a little—that she gets upon seeing Chloe in person for the first time in at least a year.

God, she had gone a whole year without seeing Chloe’s face—without having Chloe’s hands to hold and Chloe’s arms around her.

She never wants to do that again. She never wants to be apart from Chloe for that long, too afraid of her own feelings to push for something she knows Chloe wants as well. She had seen it in Chloe’s eyes over the past decade and more of knowing her. Chloe, her best friend and confidante—the person who most got on her nerves but also knew how to put her back together in more ways than one—

“We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars! Ten-dollar interval minimum, please and thank you.”

There’s some cheering and laughter in the crowd from a group near the front. Chloe blushes again under the spotlight, but she flips off the group whom Beca assumes consists of people Chloe knows well enough.

“That’s kind of low,” Beca comments.

“You should bid,” Vlad, Ben’s boyfriend, suggests.

“No, I’m just here for support,” Beca replies distractedly as another person bids up to $100. Beca’s fingers tighten momentarily around the paddle before she relaxes and wills herself to scan the crowd as nonchalantly as possible. But before she can really settle down—

“Two hundred!”

It’s arguably the biggest jump Beca has heard over the last few auctions and the murmur that rushes through the crowd indicates that they think it’s something worthwhile as well.

Beca tries not to think about how she made two-hundred dollars in the first minute—probably less—of releasing her second single on Spotify.

“Two-fifty,” a female voice calls out, distinctly confident and self-assured. Beca notes that the blush on Chloe’s face is a little different now, this time a little shy and demure like she knows that person and is touched by the gesture.

“Who is that?” Beca asks quickly.

“Oh, I think that was Amelia,” Vlad says when he notices that his boyfriend is not responding. “She’s in Chloe’s cohort.”

But who is she, Beca wants to demand further.

“Two-seventy,” the same male voice from earlier counters, though with a tinge of hesitation.

“Three hundred,” ‘Amelia’ counters.

A pause. “Three-twenty.”

“Four-fifty.” Without hesitation. An excited murmur ripples through the crowd. Chloe’s hands are now covering her face, but Beca sees that she’s smiling ever so slightly.

“She likes her,” Ben says simply.

“Who likes who.” Beca considers this a very important distinction.

“Amelia likes Chloe.”

“And does Chloe like Amelia?”

“They’re friends.” He stares at Beca pointedly. “Like you guys are friends, right? So what’s a little competition.”

“But Chloe and I are—we’re—”

Beca finds she has no real justification, no real insight to offer because she and Chloe have been teetering on that edge of almost for so long that she has forgotten what it meant when competition came along.

Until Chicago.

And before that, for Chloe, Jesse, but Beca had been nearly completely blind to it.

And now this.

Beca’s hand is rising before she can stop herself. Her brain seems to shut down completely—the rational part at least—as her heart grabs the reins. It’s stupid, it’s archaic, but this is for Chloe (almost literally, but Beca will never succumb to the belief that this is any valid way to date somebody). “Seven hundred,” she calls out. Her eyes widen when heads swivel to her and she quickly ducks, pulling her scarf back up to her nose and mouth. She waves her paddle above her head, too embarrassed to see whether Chloe’s eyes are scanning the crowd for her.

“Holy shit,” Ben mutters.

“Eight hundred,” Amelia counters somewhere in the distance, but suddenly Beca’s ears are roaring with the oddest sound—like a chorus of fucking angels or something.

“Oh my God, the animals are lucky today,” somebody mutters somewhere to Beca’s left.

“A thousand,” Beca counters.

“Um—” Ben seems to think better of it and clamps his mouth shut, though he looks like he might laugh, or worse, smile at Beca. God.

“A thousa—”

Beca’s had it. “Two thousand!”

The shocked silence that follows is enough to tell Beca that she’s completely lost it.

(But she lost it long ago—somewhere between agreeing to join an all-female acapella group when she was eighteen because of that girl with blue eyes and a killer voice and that chaotic year that followed, somehow ending with her kissing the wrong person at the end of it all. No more of that.)

“Um,” the auctioneer has apparently lost all capabilities of auctioneering. “I…guess…? Sold to—” He peers over the crowd. “You?” he asks again, still unsure. “For two thousand dollars.”

Beca quickly presses the paddle into Ben’s hands and sinks lower in her seat, distinctly avoiding all eye contact. Those closest to her finally seem to catch on and she catches the faintest hint of whispers.

“Is that…?”

“No fucking way.”

“God, I knew Beale was lying when she said they weren’t hooking up.”

Beca tries not to think about any of that, suddenly very interested in the patterns on the carpeted floor.

 — — — — — 

  Beca i did something really stupid

Aubrey Yes, the auction was livestreamed. Chloe sent me a link.

Beca holy fuck could you see me???

Aubrey No, but thank you for confirming. Two thousand dollars, Beca Mitchell.

Beca is about to type something incredibly cheesy in response to the mild snark in Aubrey’s text, but she is distracted by Ben’s shadow appearing over her.

“Hey, so uh, you have to actually meet Chloe backstage. To set up the details and stuff. And they’re going to need a check or some other form of payment? For that two thousand dollars you just dropped?”

“Do they accept Amex,” Beca deadpans.

“Yes, I believe so. So now that that’s covered, shall we?” He holds out an arm for Beca.

Beca sighs and clicks off her phone, decidedly ignoring the very long paragraph of text Aubrey just sent to her (she caught words like “my best friend” and “hurt her” and “bear trap” so she figures that’s something she can laugh or cry over when she is inevitably sent back on a plane to Los Angeles).

“Does she know it’s me?” Beca finally asks.

“I honestly don’t know. You’re kind of short and I don’t think she could actually see you.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Beca says, feeling lightheaded.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be? We’re friends. We’ve done stupid shit before. She stayed back three years to just be part of an acapella group.” And to be with you, an annoying voice sounds in her head.

Oh, that was actually Ben. Who sounded eerily like Aubrey in that moment. Beca steps away from him.

He stares at her pointedly, pointing at the door.

Fuck, Beca thinks.

It is a simple study room and when Beca opens it, she isn’t expecting the space to be so small and so brightly lit. She winces immediately and nearly steps back out, but Chloe’s gasp is enough to keep her rooted to the spot.

“Beca,” Chloe squeaks. “What the fu—what are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Beca says, waving. Chloe continues to gape at her. “Hi?” Beca tries again.

Before she realizes what’s happening, Chloe is flying towards her and wrapping her arms so tightly around Beca that all the air rushes out of her in one fell swoop. She has enough sense to grip tightly at the back of Chloe’s coat, her fingers scrabbling on the thick, coarse fabric until they settle easily into each other like no time had passed before.

Beca sighs—literally sighs—like a disgusting teenager in love and she kind of thinks Chloe does the same before Chloe is pulling back and punching her in the arm oncee she’s at arm’s length.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“You seriously paid two thousand dollars?”

Oh right, that happened and was still happening.

“It was an accident,” Beca says instinctively and defensively.

“You raised the price by a thousand dollars accidentally,” Chloe clarifies.

“Don’t—don’t call it a price, like you’re…” Beca gestures uncomfortably. “Like you’re on sale or something. And I totally believe it’s your right to do what you want with your body and stuff because you should be allowed to have all that agency and—”

“Wow, Beca slow down.” Chloe grins affectionately. “Nobody’s doing anything with my body, not without my permission anyway. These things usually just end in a quick dinner or like. Laser tag or something. It’s never that serious.”

“I knew that,” Beca says quickly, trying to ignore her own blush at Chloe’s choice of words. “I just…I wanted to be…I wanted to,” she takes a steadying breath, “go on a date with you. And be your girlfriend. And do couple-y things. Because we’d be dating…as girlfriends.”

“You did?” Chloe asks quietly and so delicately that Beca’s breath catches. She tries to maintain eye contact as best as she can.

The air around them feels so heavy. “So much.”

“So you…” Chloe’s brow furrows. “Came to Colorado and paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me? And I’m assuming you flew…so even more than two thousand dollars.”

“I…it sounds weird. I know. I’m weird. I just—” Beca heaves a breath. “I panicked, okay? I had this crazy vision of you ending up with somebody…with somebody else. That wasn’t me. And that sounds crazy jealous and crazy possessive and I have no right, but I’ve been thinking about you so much and I don’t know that I’ve ever really stopped thinking about you since that first day at the activities fair that entire fucking lifetime ago.” Beca feels winded suddenly and quickly looks up at Chloe with desperation. “I should have just…” she trails off, unsure.

She should have never let Chloe slip away the first time. Then the second time when she had the chance. When Chloe met her in the middle so many times before.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. “It’s…” She struggles to think of a word for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise. It’s just…a lot.”

“I’m just so sorry because it seems like I’m always like…just one step off from you. And I just want to be on the same page. I want to be what you deserve.”

“Me too,” Chloe replies, reaching forward to take Beca’s hand. She doesn’t hold Beca’s hand however, opting instead to gently grip her wrist, her thumb beginning to trace soothing circles along her wristbone. “I want to be what you deserve too.”

Beca swallows the immediate protest. She lets it die in her throat because she knows Chloe is right—that they have so much to work on. But they can do it together.

“Things have been weird between us, haven’t they?” Beca asks quietly. She fixes her gaze on the “Since you came to visit me. And we…” she swallows. “We kissed.”

“We did,” Chloe murmurs.

“And have things been weird?” Beca presses.

“A little,” Chloe admits after a pause. “But things have always been a little weird between us.” A small smile slips across her lips as she uses her free hand to tilt Beca’s chin up so their gazes meet once more. “But I’ve liked that.”

“You have?”

Chloe shrugs. “Kind of.”

“We…we don’t have to go on this date, you know?” Beca clarifies, eyes flicking between Chloe’s eyes and her lips frantically. Chloe draws closer. “We…” Beca’s voice cracks. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Chloe asks, her finger still tracing the underside of Beca’s jaw and the side of her neck.

Beca’s eyes flutter shut. “I want to kiss you again. If that’s okay.”

“Do you…” Chloe’s breath is warm against Beca’s mouth as she moves closer still. “Do you…have another thousand dollars?”

Beca’s eyes would fly open if she weren’t completely lost in the sensation of both of Chloe’s hands coming up to tangle into her hair. She moans at the sensation before she can help herself and immediately closes the distance between them, their lips bumping uncomfortably for a second before they settle into a somewhat familiar rhythm. Just like that, with a hint of banter and the way their touches soothe each other, they settle back into familiarity—back into what made them work all those years ago.

Instantly, Chloe’s body seems to press into hers with ease. Chloe’s head tilts and her mouth parts and Beca just about loses her mind. She reaches up to grab Chloe’s shoulders with difficulty before she moves her hands down to hold Chloe’s waist while subtly tugging her closer. Chloe sighs a little into the kiss before she pulls back with Beca’s lower lip trapped between her teeth for a brief moment.

Beca shudders. “Unfair,” she murmurs, momentarily forgetting her own name. Chloe’s name. Amelia. Ben.

There is nothing but this moment, with Beca’s heart threatening to burst from nerves and excitement and passion and sheer joy at the feeling of having the woman she loves in her arms once more.

“Never wait that long to ask me out again,” Chloe teases, pressing her forehead against Beca’s. “This was like…weirdly romantic, but I don’t need you to drop two thousand dollars. No matter how rich you are, miss Grammy nominee.”

Beca tilts her head to steal another kiss. “Again? As in we’re going to have multiple dates.”

“If you play your cards right.” Chloe’s nose brushes against Beca’s lightly. “Not your fancy credit card though.”

“Oh,” Beca says because Chloe’s hands are tugging through her hair again and somehow her toque is on the floor and they’re kissing again.

She could get used to this.

But of course:

“Wait ‘til I tell the girls you paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me.” She doesn't need to sound so smug, but Beca would be remiss if she didn't acknowledge how hot Chloe sounds saying that.

It isn’t an accident that Beca shuts her up with a kiss.

fin.

[sqoiler]

THe Director's cut for into the spoilersverse please! and a star too!

ok i’m gonna copy-paste the fic and like. comment on sections. i guess.

so the idea for this fic came from me realizing i have a bunch of alternate stephs. someone had asked me about a black canary steph and i liked the idea but didn’t want to do a full fic with her, so i was kind of like “hey! what if the stephs met each other!” and here we are. 

Lex Luthor made a multiverse machine, in order to mine Kryptonite from other dimensions. It was kinda a good idea, except the machine was faulty, and kept dragging other stuff from the multiverse into Lex’s earth as well. 

The League was dispatched to deal with the alternate versions of themselves that were brought into their Earth. Before he left, Batman assigned everyone in Gotham to guard the city from the various monsters and Rogues who roamed the city.

Spoiler had just finished a fight with a female version of Oswald Cobblepot and was headed to Nightwing to help him deal with a pair of mischievous twins, when the air in front of her opened up and a dark shaped tumbled through. Spoiler grabbed her bo-staff and dropped into a crouch, wary.

i think the “mischievous twins” thing was supposed to be a reference to the batman beyond dee dee twins. 

The shape sat up, and Spoiler absorbed the dark cape and pointy ears, the purple flashes on the suit, and the golden curls tumbling down her back.

Spoiler met her own eyes.

“Shit,” the other girl said, and she stood, brushing off her knees. Spoiler lowered her bo-staff and straightened, looking at herself curiously. “Did you pull me here?”

“No,” Spoiler said. “Lex Luthor made a machine….”

“Say no more,” the other girl said, and Spoiler noticed a yellow bat emblazoned on her chest. Her mouth fell open.

“Batgirl?” she gasped. She vaguely recognized the suit from the images of the other timeline that she’d seen, months ago.

“Yeah,” Batgirl said. “And you’re Spoiler. I haven’t been Spoiler in years, but you make it work. I like the half-mask, it’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Spoiler said, feeling a little ridiculous. “Sorry, I’ve never met an alternate version of myself before.”

“Me neither,” Batgirl admitted. “Although you always hear about it, don’t you.”

“Yeah,” Spoiler agreed. This was seriously surreal. Seeing herself–same height, a little longer hair, but standing so confidently? Spoiler blinked and told herself not to compare. They were different, after all. “So, Batgirl, huh? How’d…how’d you land that?”

“Cass gave it to me,” Batgirl said, shrugging. “When B died. But he’s back now, don’t worry.”

“Huh,” Spoiler said, and she remembered the mentions of Cass as Batgirl, too. “So where’s Babs, then?”

“You mean Babs is still Batgirl in your universe?” Batgirl asked, eyes wide. “This universe?” She gestured around them. Spoiler nodded.

when i made this fic, i didn’t INTEND to slam dunk rebirth/new 52, but that’s what happened. i figured when i started that i needed the two “canon” stephs, and then i made a list of the other stephs i wanted to include (some of which were nightwing!steph & robin!steph) but i had to whittle it down so there’d be the same amount of characters as spider-verse. not because this is a spider-verse au, but because i figured that the gag was already there in the title/concept, and it seemed like a good amount of characters–not too many, or too little. speaking of that, every character ROUGHLY corresponds to a spider-verse one: rebirth steph = miles, preboot steph = peter b. parker, cluekid = peni, dart = spider-ham, canary = gwen, and batman steph = spider noir. 

“Yeah, nobody else has ever been Batgirl,” Spoiler said.

“That’s so fucking weird,” Batgirl said. “Babs hasn’t been Batgirl since before I started out, and that was like five years ago. You mean she didn’t get shot?”

“She did, but there was an implant,” Spoiler said. “So she’s better.”

“Wow. That’s great but–how do you survive without Oracle?” Batgirl asked. “I want my universe back.”

Spoiler agreed with her, and wondered how to put her back. Should she take her to Batman? Hm. For all the multiverse shenanigans she’d heard about, she really didn’t know how to deal with them, what the protocol was.

“Let’s go find Drake,” Spoiler said. “He just got back from a multiverse adventure.”

“Drake? Like the rapper?”

“No, like Tim. My boyfriend? It’s his new code name.”

physically painful to put steph & tim together, but it had to be done.

“Tim picked his own fucking last name? That’s so stupid,” Batgirl said, and although Spoiler agreed, she didn’t say that. Spoiler checked her trackers, and found that Drake was across the city. She got out her grapple, and Batgirl did the same.

“Wait,” Batgirl called a minute later, when they were already in the air. They landed on the roof of the next building and Spoiler turned to her expectantly. “Did you say that he’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Spoiler said. “Is he not?”

“Not since like, middle school!” Batgirl cried, and Spoiler rolled her eyes.

“We don’t live in the same universe,” she reminded her. “Our Tims are probably totally different.”

“Yeah, right,” Batgirl said, and then there was a flash of purple light and Spoiler turned to face it. Two people appeared. One of them was in a purple bodysuit with a lightning bolt emblazoned on the chest, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The other was wearing fishnet tights and a leather jacket, an armored purple unitard under the jacket and a skirt over that. Her blonde hair was long, nearly to her elbows, and free-flowing. The new pair blinked at Spoiler and Batgirl.

“Holyfuckthat’susbutBats,” the girl with the lightning bolts said, her words tipping over each other, and Spoiler said, “Before today, I’d never been involved in multiverse shenanigans, and now this!”

She gestured at the duo.

“I’m Dart,” the speedster-Steph said, holding out a hand. Spoiler shook it, dumbfounded.

i felt like dart would be accepted as the most outlandish to the other stephs. she’s a meta, she has nothing to do with batman at all, she barely remembers living in gotham, etc, which is why in my head she was equivalent to spider-ham. like i feel like rebirth steph looked around at these other versions of herself like “sure, that makes sense”, but with dart she was like “what the fuck am i looking at?”

“I’m Canary,” the other Steph said. “Violet Canary, but generally they just call me Canary.”

“Like Red and Gold Canaries,” Dart said gleefully.

“….No,” Canary said. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Black Canary’s partners,” Dart said, rolling her eyes. “Cass and Jason.”

“Cass and Jason are Bats,” Batgirl said. “Not Canaries.”

“Not in my world,” Dart said. “What, in your universe is everyone a Bat?”

however weird all the other stephs found dart, though, she found them all equally weird. all these people we’re used to seeing as bats she saw as totally different things and having them all lumped together would be surreal to her. she grew up with barry as her dad, so learning that in these other universes some stephs a) stayed with arthur as their dad, or b) had some random rich guy she kinda knows as their dad was pretty weird. 

“Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Damian, Babs, Duke,” Spoiler rattled off.

“Duke?” Batgirl asked.

“Yeah, none of those people are Bats in my world,” Dart said. “Dick’s a Super, Cass and Jason are Canaries, Damian’s a Lantern, Tim’s a Martian, Duke’s a Wonder, and Babs is Aquagirl. Or, well, she used to be, before the accident.”

“See?” Batgirl demanded, gesturing at Spoiler.

“I didn’t give her the implant!” Spoiler said. “It happened before I even started crime-fighting!”

“She’s not Oracle in your universe?” Canary asked, looking wildly startled. Spoiler threw her hands up.

“Sorry that you guys landed in a garbage universe, I guess,” she said, and Dart patted her shoulder.

other stephs pushing my rebirth-sucks agenda. i regret nothing. 

“So this is your place, huh? Kinda nice,” she said. “You know, I’ve never really been in Gotham before? Not since I moved away, anyway.”

“Yeah, how the fuck are you a speedster?” Canary asked. “I’m not even a meta, and my job depends on me having superpowers.”

“I was going to ask the same question,” Batgirl said.

“I mean, basically the same way everyone else did,” Dart said. “I made Wally tell me how he did it, who made Barry tell him how he did it, who made Jay tell him how he did it. And, uh, the rest is history.”

“But why were you with Wally–? Never mind,” Spoiler said. “We really need to find Drake.”

At Dart and Canary’s confused looks, Batgirl said in a loud whisper, “As in Tim. That’s his new codename. And yeah, we know it’s stupid.”

“Thank you, Batgirl,” Spoiler said loudly. “Let’s just go, yeah?”

“Won’t Batman snipe me?” Dart asked, and Canary asked Batgirl for a spare grapple.

dart in her head: what the fuckkkkkkk

other stephs: calm down lol it’s just batman

“He’s out of town,” Spoiler said. “Just follow us.”

“Sure thing,” Dart said. “Wait, what’s your codename?”

“Spoiler,” Spoiler said. “You mean you were never…?”

“I used to be Kid Flash, but never ‘Spoiler’, whoever that is,” Dart said. “Sorry.”

“Even I was Spoiler, and I’m not even a Bat,” Canary said, and Dart said, “Okay, we get it, I’m a weirdo among Stephanies. Let’s go.”

They went, and Spoiler wondered if the other Bats were also dealing with themselves. She was leading the way, which was weird, because she never led any ways. Maybe if it was just her and Tim, or something.

Below her, Spoiler caught sight of a swarm of Clayfaces, and she had to stop. She yelled to the others to help her, and they dropped into the alley below.

Fighting with only herself as backup was weird, Spoiler thought. Batgirl threw batarangs that had stuff inside them. Dart sped around confusing the Clayfaces and Spoiler brought her bo-staff down hard on one, but it just sloshed through his arm. Oops.

“Cover your ears!” Canary yelled, and she threw a little device at a Clayface. It screamed, a loud noise that was what Spoiler assumed the Canary Cry sounded like. The Clayfaces barely reacted.

From above, a dark shape descended. Spoiler could’ve cried in relief, even though she was sure it wasn’t her own Batman.

Batman threw a device at a Clayface, which sent out some sort of signal that froze all the Clayfaces that weren’t already frozen by Batgirl’s batarangs. Icearangs? Whatever.

Quick work was made of the Clayfaces, and then Batman led the Stephs back into the air.

“You saved us!” Dart said.

“Yes,” Batman said. Spoiler inspected their new friend. This Batman was shorter than Bruce, and the bat across her chest was purple. The eyes on the cowl glowed with purple light, but it was still unmistakably Batman. She had on purple lipstick, and Spoiler spotted a scar near her mouth. She knew who this was.

“Holy shit,” Spoiler breathed, and beside her, the others seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You’re me.”

this moment right here, where steph looks at batman and it’s herself…? that’s probably why i even bothered writing this fic. 

“I would argue that I’m me,” Batman said, her mouth twisting into a smirk. “But yes, I am another Stephanie Wayne.”

“Wayne?” Spoiler and Batgirl cried at the same time.

as much as i love ignoring canon, in this fic i sort of had to go along with it, and i think this moment was kind of a good one.

“Fuck,” Dart said. “If that isn’t a weird last name to think of me having.”

“It makes sense that circumstances would differ,” Canary said. “Although in my universe, I was never truly a Bat.”

“But Wayne?” Spoiler said, waving her hands.

“Bruce actually adopted you?” Batgirl asked.

“No,” Batman said. “He left a portion of the estate to me in his will, and after I took up the mantle I changed my last name.”

“What the fuck,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl seemed of the same mind.

“Why are you panicking? It’s not that weird,” Dart said. “And I mean, clearly you all aren’t Stephanie Allen.”

“Allen?” Batgirl repeated, her voice an octave higher.

“Sweet Jesus,” Batman said, and Spoiler pushed that image aside for examining at a later time. “The pair of you never shed ‘Brown’, didn’t you.”

“No!” Spoiler cried.

“I’ve never even thought that was an option!” Batgirl said, sounding distraught.  

“I’ve just been daydreaming about the day Tim proposes so I can be anything besides a Brown,” Spoiler admitted.

“That’s disgusting,” Batman said. “You and Tim, really?”

“Why not?” Spoiler demanded. “Everyone seems to be of the same mind–what’s wrong with him?”

“I mean, besides that he’s an asshole?” Batgirl asked. “Uh, two words: Super. Girl.”

“I’ve never even met Supergirl,” Spoiler said, struggling to imagine herself dating Supergirl.

“Tim’s dead,” Batman said flatly. “But I agree with Batgirl’s assessment.”

“I think Supergirl and Babs have a thing going on?” Dart said. “Maybe? But anyway I’m more of a Wonder Girl kinda gal myself.”

“Ditto,” Canary said.

“Okay, I get it, you guys are hetero-shaming me,” Spoiler said, lifting her hands up. “For the record, I am bisexual.”

the idea of every steph besides the “real” steph being gay & having a girlfriend is comedy. gold. 

“Good,” Batman said.

“Although, speaking of my lovely boyfriend, I should probably tell him about this….Stephplosion,” Spoiler said, waving her arms at them. She put her finger to her ear to comm Drake, but then the air folded in on itself on a roof within Spoiler’s line of sight and she saw a flash of a familiar color that made her blood boil.

“Shit,” she said.

“What?” Dart asked. Spoiler pointed.

“There was some….orange over there,” she said significantly.

headcanon that steph hates all orange, but the specific shade of cluemaster orange especially. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Batgirl said. “If I have to deal with alternate Cluemasters I’m going to slaughter someone.”

“We need to check it out,” Batman said.

“I’m only agreeing since there’s five of us,” Canary said.

“I haven’t seen Arthur since I was eleven and I’m not about to start now,” Dart said, and Spoiler pushed down a surge of jealousy. Batman led the way, grabbing Dart to carry her across the gap.

They stopped at the edge of the roof and looked down at the kid–the kid!–who was sitting on the rooftop below them.

She had on an orange skirt and shirt with blue suspenders. Her tights–also orange–were ripped and she had on orange combat boots. Her bandana was pulled down from her face to rest around her neck, and her blonde hair was in tangles.

Spoiler stared her thirteen year old self in the face and thought about fainting.

“What the fuck,” Batgirl said flatly.

i feel like this moment sort of parallels/reflects the moment when spoiler first sees batman & recognizes it as herself. batman!steph is like a dream come true, and cluekid!spoiler her worst nightmare. both are the kind of dreams you didn’t know you even had until you encounter them, but yeah. holy shit that’s batman and that’s ME vs holy shit that’s cluekid and that’s ME

“Don’t hit me!” the kid cried, scrambling to her feet. She had braces, Spoiler noted dimly. “Who are you? What happened?”

“We’re in an alternate universe,” Batman said. “Something’s wrong with the multiverse.”

“Lex Luthor,” Spoiler provided, dazed. “Mining for Kryptonite. Batman–my Batman–is taking care of it.”

“Oh,” tiny, orange Steph said. “So…who are you, then?”

Batman pulled off her cowl. Her blonde hair was short and messy and her face was–old. Spoiler pegged her to be late twenties, probably. Huh. The other Stephs were all teenagers like Spoiler.

idk if you’ve read “touch the sky” but when steph first becomes batman and is a teenager she’s pretty fucked up, and i needed this batman steph to be cool & confident. she’s been batgirl for a while. again on batman & cluekid reflecting each other, the other stephs are all 17/18, and cluekid is younger while batman is older. 

“Stephanie,” Batman said, her real voice jarring after the modulated one was gone. “I’m you, okay?”

“In an alternate universe, I’m Batman?” the younger Steph whispered.

“Yes,” Batman said, her voice soft and kind of tender. Spoiler wondered what experience she had with kids. She realized that she could have a Robin. “And that’s Batgirl, and Dart, and Canary, and Spoiler. We’re all you.”

“Spoiler?” the younger Steph said, her eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”

“Language,” Batman said.

“I’m thirteen, not a child.” The younger Steph turned and pulled off her backpack. “Look!” She opened it and pulled out a homemade black bodysuit and hooded cape. “Here’s my Spoiler outfit.”

“I’m going to cry,” Batgirl said. Spoiler’s heart was doing something weird, looking at this tiny version of herself wearing Cluemaster orange.

“Oh, yeah, well. Being Spoiler is my biggest secret,” younger Steph said, putting her costume back away.

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” Dart asked.

“Well,” Steph said, drawing out the word. “I thought Dad might, like, kill me if I didn’t say yes when he asked, so I’m Cluekid by day and Spoiler at night. But, uh, I’m working on bringing down the empire from the inside.”

“Empire?” Spoiler repeated.

“Yeah, Dad’s criminal empire,” Cluekid said. “I’m taking it down.”

“Criminal empire?” Batgirl said, sounding shocked.

if all the stephs got transported to cluekid’s world instead, they’d be looking around like “THIS IS THE BAD PLACE!!!!!”

“By yourself?” Batman asked, putting her cowl back on. Cluekid pulled up her bandana.

“Yeah, it’s like…someone’s gotta do it, right?”

“Was anyone else’s Cluemaster, like, vaguely incompentent at best?” Batgirl asked, and Spoiler and Canary rose their hands. “Criminal empire, really?”

“It’s super fun that you guys weren’t Cluekid, but leave me alone about it,” Cluekid said. “My dad’s the real deal.”

“Then what’s your plan for when he finds out you betrayed him?” Batman asked. Cluekid blinked slowly.

“Well,” she said, then she stopped.

“You don’t have a plan,” Dart said knowingly. “I can relate.”

“No, she does,” Batman said, horrified.

“You’re just gonna let yourself die?” Spoiler asked. Cluekid shrugged, her arms going up past her head.

“If I have to!” she cried. “Someone’s gotta take him down and I’m the only one who can!”

cluekid is actually planning on faking her own death at this time, but she doesn’t have all the details worked out yet. 

“Dying’s no big D,” Batgirl said. “I do it all the time.”

Everyone turned to face her.

“I mean, once, but that’s like, more than most people do it,” she amended, and Spoiler shook her head.

i think batman!steph comes from a mix of preboot/rebirth, so she’s probably died as well

“Jesus christ,” she said. “I have to get you guys out of here. I’m going to call Drake, and we’re going to find out how to return you guys. Except maybe Cluekid, cause your universe sucks.”

spoiler just wants a chance to call another universe garbage, for a change.

“Yeah, well, your universe has people leaking into it, so it can’t be all that great,” Cluekid shot back, and Spoiler had to admit she had a point.

zing, now everyone’s made fun of rebirth.

While they grappled towards the other end of town, Batman carrying Cluekid and Dart running below them, Spoiler put in a call.

“Batman,” she said. “I have five alternate versions of myself with me.”

“Five Spoilers?” her own Batman asked, his voice gruff.

bruce instantly: [internal screaming]

“Five Stephanies,” she corrected. “A Batgirl, a speedster, a Canary, a kid, and, well. A Batman.”

“Interesting,” Batman said. “Luthor has been apprehended and once I turn off the machine, everyone should return to normal.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, and Batman disconnected. Spoiler stopped grappling and the group gathered around her. “According to my Batman, you guys should just…go back soon.”

this fic was about conversations between stephanies, not action, which is why i feel like the end is sort of anti-climactic, but whatever. it needed to end, and it did

“It’s been nice getting to know you,” Canary said. “Although really weird.”

“Agreed,” Dart said. “I can’t imagine being a Bat.”

“I wish that would happen to me,” Cluekid said. “But…”

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” Batman said.

“Hey,” Spoiler said. “Batman, do you have a Robin? You’re pretty good with kids.”

“Yeah,” Batman said, smiling. “Her name is Carrie.”

writing this fic made me think of a “touch the sky” sequel where steph works through the deaths of her siblings and takes in a new robin. we’ll see.

“Hell yeah,” Batgirl said, raising her hand for a fistbump. Batman obliged, and from the corner of her eye Spoiler saw the universe begin folding in on itself.

“Damn, this is me,” Dart said, looking at the wrinkle in the air. It was tied to her leg, so not a difficult conclusion to make. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you ladies. I wish all of you every success–especially you, Lil Steph.”

“Thanks,” Cluekid said, and Spoiler nodded at Dart before she vanished in a puff of purple lightning.

“I’m going to turn on my earplugs,” Canary said. “Who knows what’ll happen when I get back–but anyway, I’m going to be in the dark, hearing-wise.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, a little confused, and Canary gave everyone a smile.

“It’s been real,” she said, and then she turned on her earplugs. She signed something at them–Spoiler knew only a few signs and couldn’t keep up. Batgirl nodded thoughtfully.

“What’d she say?” Spoiler asked.

“Oh, I have no clue,” Batgirl said. “Come to think of it, the signs me and Cass use aren’t strictly ‘real’ sign language.”

“She said that she turns off her hearing so it’s not damaged by the canary cry,” Batman said. Everyone looked at her. “What? My brother was mute and he had to talk somehow.”

tossed up on the “was” vs “is”, but i wanted damian to get better and i hoped that if any diehard “touch the sky” fans were reading this, they’d see that yeah, he does get better & talk again.

“Brother?” Spoiler repeated, and Batman said, “Damian.”

Damian, mute?

Damian, Steph’s brother?

“I’m leaving,” Canary said loudly, and they turned to face her. She was vanishing just like Dart, and she gave a little wave, then pointed at Batman, who was also disappearing.

“Goodbye,” Batman said, and then she and Canary were gone, leaving Spoiler with Batgirl and Cluekid.

“I’m gonna be real with you guys,” Cluekid said. “I know it’s only been like two minutes but seeing myself, older and with a place in the world….it’s pretty inspiring to think that in another universe I grow up to be Batman.”

“Maybe you still can,” Spoiler suggested, thinking that she didn’t like the idea of this tiny version of herself planning her own death.

“I don’t think so,” Cluekid said, smiling sadly.

“I’ve been through a lot of shit,” Batgirl said. “I’ve even died before. You can’t let any of that stop you, okay? You just gotta push through it.”

“Keep on coming back,” Spoiler said.

“However long it takes,” Batgirl said. Cluekid blinked, tears welling in her eyes, and then she reached for Spoiler and Batgirl, tugging them both into a hug.

i feel like “never give up” is kind of steph’s motto, and that’s universal among stephs. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Spoiler said, ruffling her hair, and then Cluekid was gone.

“Damn,” Batgirl said. “She says she’s inspired by us, but I’m inspired by her. She’s so brave.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spoiler said, her throat sort of rough. “Geez.”

“Well, it’s my turn next,” Batgirl said. “So, uh. Bye? I guess.”

“Have fun in your universe,” Spoiler said. “With Oracle and Supergirl.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Batgirl said. “Have fun with….Drake. Seriously, we give you shit, but if he’s good for you–”

“He is,” Spoiler said, trying not to think of their breakups.

“Then that’s all there is to it, isn’t it,” Batgirl said. She grinned, and the air behind her began to fold. “Oh, what timing!”

“Goodbye, Batgirl,” Spoiler said.

“Bye, Spoiler,” Batgirl said. “You know, it’s nice to see that somewhere out there, we’re still in the mantle we created.”

“And it’s nice to see that we’re in a mantle given to us,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl grinned.

“Hell yeah it is,” she said, and then she was gone, and Spoiler was left alone.

She sighed, and kept moving.

spoiler & batgirl are so similar that of course they kinda got along the best….i think canary was supposed to be kind of distant like “oh that’s kinda weird” and then dart was “oh that’s SUPER weird” and then cluekid was “oh my god is she okay” and then batman more like “wow! #afraid to ask how the mantle got passed down to YOU!”

[peggysousfan]

Agent Carter An Au Series

Here is Chapter 16! There’s a lot more of the show in this one to make up for 15 lol and some peggysous fluff in the beginning. Enjoy! :) 

(PS. Tio means uncle lol)

Peggy's POV:

I wake up early in the morning, feed Steph, and go to the kitchen to make some tea. I notice Daniel still asleep on the couch, and he looks uncomfortable. Perhaps once we move he'll be able to sleep in his on bed again, and actually be comfortable. I can't believe I told him as much as I did last night, although it is a relief having some of it off my chest, I still wasn't ready for him to know all of that. I like Daniel, i really do, perhaps more than friends...but he showed me last night that he wasn't interested, or that he lost any interest he had. I never forgot the time in his room where we nearly kissed, our lips barely grazed the other...and yet I felt something; and I want to feel that spark again. Thats why, when I slip up and kiss his cheek, I try to compose myself or act as if it weren't a big deal. But last night he turned away from me, and I'm afraid that door is well and truly locked for good.

I look in the refrigerator for the milk to put in my tea, and I notice the label; Daisy Clover Dairy. Damn. I almost forgot I have to find the milk truck with nitramene that Branis stole. Ugh, its going to be a long week. I look over at Steph and she keeps wiggling around as if shes looking for something; or someone. I love how much she loves him, but once we leave I'm afraid of how she'll respond. I look over at Daniel and hes still fast asleep; then an idea pops in my mind. Perhaps its a bad one, but I do it anyway. I lift poppet up and place her on Daniels chest, and the second she realizes who he is, she snuggle against him and falls asleep. More and more am I amazed at how close they are. Its incredible. I can only imaging what her father would say or do if he knew how close Steph was with someone else. Knowing his obsessive and overbearing nature, he would probably get angry and try to prevent Daniel coming anywhere near her. But babies are good detectors of good people, and it seems Daniel is he best.

I hear a noise and look over at the sleeping pair. Daniel laid his arm over Steph to hold her close to him. All I can do is smile at the sight in front of me. If only I had a camera to capture this moment. Normally I wouldn't care for such things...but this is an exception. I turn away and sip my tea when I hear a noise; Daniel is starting to wake up.

"Mmm." He moves around and realizes hes not alone. "Uh, Hey little one. Where'd you come from?" I'm assuming he looks around, but I don't think he sees me. "How the hell did you get over here?" I see his head pop up from the couch and hold her closer. She rest her head on his chest and sleeps soundly.

"I'd be concerned if she were walking already." He looks up and finally notices my presence.

"Jesus Peg! You scared the hell outta me!" I laugh at his declaration. "How long has she..."

"Only a few minutes. She wouldn't sit still and kept looking around for you, so I placed her with you. And of course, she fell right back to sleep." He looks down at her and kisses her cheek.

"You are the sweetest thing ever." And I couldn't agree more.

"Can you believe she'll be 6 months in a few weeks? Because I can't!" I say.

"Seriously? Jeez.. Has it really been that long?" I nod my head and make my way to the couch, and i sit next to him.

"Indeed it has. Its only 5 weeks away, but it feels much shorter than that." He hands her over and she snuggles against me. "Well its about bloody time you little minx." He looks at me and laughs." I suppose she just needed to cuddle with Tio Daniel first."

"Tio Daniel!?"

"Or would you prefer....Godfather?" He leans back and looks at me, his eyes wide.

"Peg. Are you serious? You're not kidding?" I laugh and shake my head.

"So is that a yes?" He quickly leans over and embraces me and starts to lead towards my cheek, but stops himself.

"I don't mind, Daniel." I turn to him. "I do it to you, why should it be one way around." I say boldly. I know exactly why. Women do it as affection, or for thanks and gratitude, sometime its only a friendly gesture. But for men? Its meant for familiar family and spouses. He still looks afraid...I suppose I need to squash that. I lean over and place one hand on his cheek, and kiss the other. "See? no harm. We're very good friends, Daniel. It doesn't bother me." He still looks shocked and frozen.

"Yeah, uh..right. No, uh sorry. Your're right." Hes adorable when he gets like this, all awkward and stuttering, and I can't help but laugh.

"We should be getting ready. I have a feeling its going to be a long day at the office." At this he snaps out of whatever trance hes in and stands.

"Yeah, you're right. I should probably jump in the shower and get ready." I stand up as well and embrace him.

"I'll see you at the office." Steph reaches out one last time and gets her snuggles, and then we leave. I meet up with Jarvis and we look at the housing I will be staying at. Its one of Howard's quieter residencies; But I'm starting to have second thoughts. I take a delicious scone from the table as we continue to walk. As we tour the house and Jarvis describe the layout and such, I speak up.

"I can't stay."

"Mr. Stark insisted."

"But he also wants me to clear his name for multiple charges of treason. If anyone finds out I'm living in his house, I'll be fitted for the noose!"

"Well if it puts you at ease, this isn't one of him primary residences. He uses it more for...private entertaining."

"Its too risky."

"Well if you're sure you wouldn't like to see the master bedroom." Although I know this is a absolutely horrible Idea, I follow him anyway. When we enter the room, I fall in love. The bed is the most comfortable thing I have ever laid on.

"Perhaps a night or two won't kill us." He chuckles and give me the Intel he has on Leviathan; which is nothing at all. The SSR had nothing on them either. The only lead we have in the milk company that has a truck full of nitramene. Jarvis asked about the foreign agents with the odd throats and I explained that the New York hospitals had no record of Laryngotamy patience in the last 3 years."So I've got 2 foreign agents, with no voice boxes, fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives. "

"Just another day at the office"

"Ugh, I wish." I explain when the Daisy Clover opens and how I plan on infiltrating it and finding the truck. He insist on waiting with the car, but I tell him no. Hes already been through enough danger. As we have this conversation I explore the room, and when I get to the wardrobe...I am astounded. I'm not sure a theater has as many costumes as Howard does. But the white coat will prove useful. Soon after I hand Steph over to Jarvis, I head to get some work done

When I get there at the Daisy Clover, I use my American accent and a pair of glasses, and the white overcoat as a disguise. I confront the manager and say that there have been many complaints and I am one of them. I go on a rant and scare him enough to get him to cooperate; not many men like a bossy women and it can intimidate them. It seems like forever that I've searched this entire bloody place, but theres no sign of gamma rays or the truck. I look at the paper and notice a truck is missing.

"We've had a guy out sick the past two days. He uses his truck to commune."

"Has he never heard of a bus? Name and address."

"Sheldon McFee, but I don't have an address."

"Leave that to me." I storm off the property, but not without doing some proper inspector work. I shout to put air in one or the tires, and then leave.

Daniel's POV:

I can't believe Peggy wants me to be Stephanie Godfather! And she addressed me as Tio Daniel to Steph...I honestly can't believe that just happened. But of course I ruined the moment by trying to kiss her again. I know she doesn't mind it, but I do. I still can't forget the time in my room when we almost kissed; thats and all the times shes kissed my cheek or my hand.  I felt this...spark, and yet we barely grazed our lips against each other. Its torture having these feelings and not letting them out. I really like Peggy, as more than friends, but I know shes probably not ready for that sort of thing right now; and besides she has a kid. Even though I love that kid as if she were my own, shes not. I'll never be able to be her dad, and I think thats what hurts the most. It'll be worse when they find somewhere to move, I won't be able to see them as much; especially Steph.

When I know Peggy is gone I go to my room and look for something to wear after I get out of the shower. But the only clean shirt I have left is the one Steph ripped. Dammit. Guess this will have to do. I jump in the shower and get dressed, and once I'm done, I drink some coffee and head to the office. Peg isn't here yet, but I don't expect her to be; I know shes looking to see if he can stay with the sitters for a while. I know she hates the idea of house jumping, but its the only option she has that lets her live with her daughter. I would say Steph could stay with me while Peggy came by my apartment and stayed for her free time while she worked or was at the Hotel for woman. But I also work and can't watcher her 24/7. I feel horrible that I can't help out more...

"Hey Sousa! What happened to you? Did you get mugged?" Krisminski Laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"Well, your shirt is ripped. So I asked if you got mugged? I mean, Its not like you can fight back with one leg."

"Hey, whoa. We don't know if it was some low life thieves out to steal a gimps money. Maybe it was that girl hes been rushing off to see... Am I right Sousa?"

"Shut up, Thompson." I go to my desk and start looking through the files we have on Stark. I look up at the clock and notice Peggy isn't back yet, and its almost 9:15. Where is she? Maybe I'm the only one whos noticed, but shes always here five till 9; always. I keep looking at the files, but can't help but look at the clock. And then she arrives. Thank God. When she walks by my desk she smiles, but then looks at me confused. She makes a small gesture to my shirt, and I nod, then she laughs softly; she knows its the same one Steph ripped.  Hours go by and I get bored, so I look at the horse race chart.

"Whiteby's Prospect. Third Race." I turn round and see Peggy looking over my shoulder, her coat in hand.

"You sure?" I smirk. I know she doesn't really care about these things. Once when I was home and she came in, she noticed the races and laughed at me. She said it was a waste of time and money, and that most of the races were probably rigged.

"Not at all, thats why they call it gambling." We smile at the each other and then I circle her suggestion.

"I have to pop out for a moment, personal matters. Cover for me?" My first thought is somethings wrong with Step.  I lower my voice, so no one else can hear.

"Is everything okay with..." At first shes confused, then she gets it.

"Oh! No of course not, thats...no everything's fine in that regard." I sigh of relief. Peggy quickly reaches out and rubs my back comfortingly. "You'd be the first to know if something were wrong, Daniel. I assure you." I nod my head again and smile.

"Okay, good to know." She smiles and leans one hand on the back of my chair.

"So will you do it...?"

"Sure, but you'd own me one." She smiles again and Agent Mills hands me the photos from Spider Raymond's club. "Hey, Thanks a bunch." Peg asks about the folder and I tell her, then she offers to help me look for the woman who killed Raymond. Weird... "I thought you said you were leaving?"

"Oh well-"

"Hey Sousa, you're needed in the basement." Krisminksi says.

"I'm kind of busy"

"Well now you're extra busy. I got a ten ton ball of rocks and garbage with your name on it." God I hate this guy.

"Alright alright, just give me a minute." I put the folder away and the paper with the race. Then turn to Peggy. "Guess I'm gonna miss that race."

"Its probably for the best." She says. Kriskminski orders Peggy to file some reports, so I guess she doesn't get to leave. I hope it wasn't too important.

Peggy's POV:

"I see. Yes, Yes, Perfect. Thank you." I finally was able to gather the information and address of Sheldon McFee. Hopefully I'll be able to find the truck of Nitramene an turn in into the SSR; maybe then I'll get a break around here. I grab my coat and glance at Daniel before I leave. What is he doing? He has something hidden under a file that hes looking at. Gambling on Horse racing. Men...I take a guess and he listens to me, God he is a mess. I tell him that I need to leave on personal matters, and he automatically got worried about Stephanie. I don't think I can adore him any more for that. If anything were wrong with her, not only would I rush out of the this building, but I would grab Daniel and force him to come with me. Hes the first person I would come to if something were to ever happen to my daughter.

As I start to leave, I'm called for me reports to file. The bloody buffoons I work with are so idle. I look around, and make sure no one is watching me, and then I hurry to Chief Dooley's office to make a call; no trace. And he answer.

"I don't have long, so I need you to listen very carefully. I need you to dispose of Howard's car."

"I beg your pardon?" Jarvis says.

"The SSR are looking into Roxxon at this very moment at car sustained damage at the site, and is likely to be teeming with Vita Radiation. Make it disappear." He huffs, but agrees.

"Very well. The linens should be done in the wash in 30 minutes-"

"Now."I say. He asks about the Dairy truck and I give him the Intel I've found and then end the call. I have to know if my face is in any of those photos. This could ruin my career, get Steph taken from me, and... cost me everything with Daniel.

Hours later, when the coast is clear, around lunch, I stop eating the Orange Daniel gave me and sneak over to his desk. But of course nothings ever that easy. The phon on my desk rings, and then the one on Daniels; and I hit my head "Bloody Hell" I whisper aloud. That wasn't suppose to happen.I peak my head from the Desk and see Daniel coming my way. Dammit. I sneak back over to my desk as he answers the phone. Chief Dooley wants me to bring the Vita Ray Detector to the main Roxxon office.

"What was that about?" Daniel asks.

"Oh, just another errand." I reply as I walk away. I go to the file room and pick it up from where I pout it back this morning and then leave for Roxxon.

"Carter about time." Dooley says. Wanker...

"Oh! I didn't know  our government had such good taste in secretaries. Whats your name, Darling?"A man says, I'm assuming is Mr. Jones.

"Agent." I say simply. i hand over the detector to Dooley and say I will see him at the office, but he has other ideas.

"Yeah we could use your help" Thompson says. I'm sure you do.

"It wouldn't be for filing would it." I retort.

Dooley explains that the vita rays could still be on the person that handled the nitramen. He wants me to stay and check the woman in the facility because a man doing it isn't appropriate. God help me...I rush to the restroom to make sure none of the Vita rays are on me form when I had infiltrated the other facility and found Branis. Turns out I do. "Sorry Nana." I throw away the watch my grandmother had given to me before she died. I wasn't particularly close with her, but I was closer to her than my mum. She always encouraged my adventurous side and never forced me to learn to 'be a lady'.

Mr. Jones gathers up his employees and they stand in a long line to be tested. For a while there was nothing and i thought this whole thing was pointless, but then I see him. The man who helped Branis make the nitramen bombs. Thompson tests him, but he comes back clear. I ask him to stop walking away and ask Jones about the uniforms. Vita rays hardly saturate a persons skin, but clothing is tainted for longer, and when I suggest to check the locker rooms, Van Ert makes a run for it; and Dooley and Thompson chase him. Men are so quick to act rather than think. I take the stairs and beat him to the lobby.

"May I?" I ask as I take a mans brief case. I take it and wack Van Ert in the legs, and he falls to his feet. Thompson puts him and handcuffs and Dooley watches, out of breath. How he can be sweating this much is beyond me. "May I be pf any further assistance?" I ask. Once he is apprehended we leave to the SSR.

When we enter the SSR, I notice Daniel hard at work, and I catch myself from smiling. He works so hard and yet no one notices his efforts. Our eyes meet and I tilt my head for him to follow, and he does. We watch chief start to interrogation, but I'm not completely paying attention. I look over t him and see his shirt still torn, and i laugh.

"What?" He looks puzzled.

"Your shirt." I point and he looks down and laughs

"Yeah, uhm...its the only one I had left that was clean."

"I'm still sorry that happened,I-I still can't believe it."

"Its not your fault, Peg. Things happen." I hum in agreement.

"Have any of the boys noticed?" I ask. But he doesn't answer. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, but its nothing."

"What did they say?" He turns away from me and watches Dooley. "Daniel. What did they say?" Now I'm getting angry.

"It doesn't matter, Pe-

"Yes it does. It matters to me. What. Did. They. Say." He glances at me, quickly, and then back at Dooley. I reach out to him and hold his hand. "Daniel..."

"They just...thought I got mugged by some thieves..."

"And...?" He shakes his head and refuses to continue. I grab his shoulders and force him to face me, but he doesn't look at me. I place my right hand under his chin and my left in his cheek. "What aren't you telling me?" I ask gently. He takes a deep breath and speaks.

"They said that I got mugged by thieves..."I raise my brow, "Becasue I can't defned myself with one leg."

"What!?" He tries to shuh me to not bring any attention "No. I will not 'Shh' What else?"

"Pegs-"

"What. Else?"I place my hands on my hips; now I'm fuming.

"The other wasn't so bad..." Again I raise my brow. "He said that...it was a woman who did it." I know hes still holding back. "I can't win with you can I?"

"Never." I say and he laughs.

"He said that it was the woman that 'I've been rushing to meet' for the past 2 weeks."

"What woman?" Daniel's seeing someone?I had no idea.But I suppose it makes sense as to why he turned away from me last night...

"No one. There isn't one, I swear" I hadn't realized I was holding my breath, that is, until I released it. "No need to look so relieved." Damn.

"Sorry I-"

"I'm just messing with you, Peggy." I smile and shove him playfully.

"Arse." Before we know it, Dooley walks in the room and watches Thompson beat on Van Ert. If talking doesn't work, brute force does. He sends me home because 'lady's shouldn't e seeing this' As if I haven't seen worse during the war. I glance at Daniel and smile; one more night before Steph and I go to Howard's old house. I'll miss Daniel...

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 04

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language.

Words: 3,598

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

I walk back to my hotel room with only thoughts of J-Hope for the third time time this week, which meant I had that stupid ass grin on my face while stumbling down the halls of the sixth floor. I held the key card up to the lock on the door and walk in, in the hopes of hitting my bed headfirst. I was surprised to see my band members, Darren and Kyle sitting on the beds in Leyah's and my shared bedroom. They each stop talking and whip their heads in my direction as soon as I walk in.

"Oh. Hey...Everyone. What's up?" I say awkwardly, making my way to my bed that Carrie and Vicky are already sat on. Leyah, Darren and Kyle are perched on Leyah's bed. Vicky begins to speak.

"Uh, nothing. We were just talking about-"

"Where were you?" Darren cuts her off monotonously. "O-kay..." Vicky says to no one in particular. Carrie proceeds to rub Vicky's back in comfort.

"Why?" I question defensively, my bubbly, good mood ruined. Leyah groans as if she can already see where this is going, but doesn't comment.

"Well, you just left the group all of a sudden and we were worried." Darren looks me in the eye, raising his voice slightly. My face scrunches up in confusion and disbelief. Even if the group hadn't known where I was, Darren certainly could have told them, he saw me leave after all. I decide to leave that part out in my response.

"It wouldn't be the first time I 'left the group' Darren." I say using air quotes. "It's no big deal."

Darren's eyes go wide with accusation. "Yeah, but it's different this time because-" He stops himself. Leyah spares him a brief apologetic glance from the side. Kyle mirrors this expression.

"Because what?!" I urge, getting impatient.

"Ugh! Because you left with that strange guy!" He shouts. My shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Are you kidding me?

"Is that what this is about?" I nearly whisper, still trying to wrap my head around this situation.

"Yes--No!" Darren stumbled. His breathing picked up noticeably. "I just don't-"

"What Darren means to say is the band is a little bothered that you skipped out on us, especially when some hotshot photographer approached us and our leader wasn't there and Darren is pissed for God knows why." Leyah explained in one breath, which didn't seem to phase her.

Well, now I understand the intervention like setting, but that doesn't explain Darren's  resentment.

Back up.

"So wait. A photographer approached you?" I said, wanting to get to the bottom of this and avoid another one of Darren's outbursts.

"Yeah." Leyah continued. "Offered to make those posters and pics for our website we been wantin' so bad. Also talked a big game about getting us in touch with some 'important people'." She explains with heavy lidded eyes and air quotes.

Oh wow. This could be great. A push in the right direction without the help of Evan whatsoever. I originally took "official" photos of the group and posted them to our website, but I'm no professional and this could benefit us in a variety of ways, especially if they get us in touch with these 'important people'.

"Well. Did he sell you? Did you all like him?" I look around at my members for confirmation, avoiding eye contact with Darren.

Leyah nods. "We exchanged information. By that I mean I gave him your number." She spoke in her usual monotonous drawl. I can't tell how she feels about the situation.

I sigh. "Well, that's good. I'm glad...Um. I'm sorry I wasn't there guys. Really." I say trying to get back on their good side, but I noticed the only face that was actually bothered was Darren's.

"It's okay Char, I handled it. Plus you couldn't have known." Forgiveness actually seeping into her tone, but she glared in Darren's direction while she spoke.

Ohhhhh-kay.

"And that's why you're second in command." I replied happily. She looks away form Darren to salute me causing the girls and I to laugh lightly. "So...Are we cool?" I look at the girls with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Of course."

"Okay. Cool. I'm gonna get ready for be-" Before I could finish, Darren exasperatingly made his way out of the hotel room, slamming the door for good measure. Kyle stands from the bed instinctively, but doesn't move to follow him.

"What. The. Fuck. Is his problem?" I don't bother to control my volume, being utterly shocked by Darren's behavior.

"I don't know. I'm going to bed. Night." Leyah sighs and goes to lie down and browse on her laptop. Kyle moves closer to the door and out of her way. "Night I guess." I say.

"Oh and Char?" Leyah turns to me. "Don't let him get to you okay?" Her eyes were serious. They were sympathetic, but they sent a warning. I just nod absentmindedly, not being able to tell if she was talking about Darren or J-Hope. Or both.

Kyle hesitates in front of the door before locking eyes with me. "I'm glad you're okay Char."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight everyone." He leaves silently, unlike his furious best friend next door.

"Night guys." Says Vicky as she moves into the family room and Carrie, surprisingly, follows her. "Night." I change and take off my makeup, change into my pj's, slide into bed and check my phone before going to sleep. I saw a heap of messages and missed calls from my band mates, Darren and Kyle.

Okay now I feel a little guilty. Maybe just wandering off was a bit much. But it was kind of worth it.

I see a text from J-Hope and my face immediately lights up.

J-Hope: Hey. I know I walked you to your hotel, but I just wanted to make sure you got up to your room okay.

Me: That has to be the lamest excuse a guy has ever made up to talk to me. *laughing face emoji*

J-Hope: I know lol, but it took me 15 minutes to come up with, gimme some credit. *crying face emoji*

J-Hope: Also is it working? *winking face emoji*

I laugh out loud and try to control my volume when Leyah whips her head at me because I startled her. "Sorry." She nods and continues her browsing.

Me: OK, good job J-Hope. I'm fine and maybe. Did you get in okay?

J-Hope: Yup not to long ago. Now I can sleep soundly, knowing you're okay.

I literally have to roll my eyes, but I end up smiling like an imbecile.

Me: You're so lame...But thank you for caring.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

I could just hear the vibrations of his deep voice as if he were standing in front of me right now.

God the devil is tempting me again.

"Don't let him get to you."

What can I do? Do I flirt back or do I let him down easy? There is no easy, we are in too deep. But Leyah's words and the promise we made with Carrie and Vicky a year and a half ago kept echoing in my head. The promise we made never to get involved in relationships or romance.

"Love is just a distraction." I said to them with a bitter bite to my voice. We sat in a circle on the living room floor of Leyah's parent's house. Carrie and Vicky came here because it's where we would rehearse, I came here because it's where I stayed.

We had just been enjoying a romantic movie after a successful rehearsal when I began to get emotional and start crying. Memories of my previous relationship haunting me the longer I watched this couple on the screen interact.

The girls, of course, comforted me and I ended up telling them my whole life story, the parts I hadn't already shared with them.

"It distracts you from your goals and being all that you can be. It makes you weak. We are not weak." The girls look at me like I'm an anomaly they have to figure out even though they've already known me for seven months. "We will be successful...right?"  I look around to see thoughtful eyes and caring expressions. I could tell they took what I said to heart. They each started to nod one by one. Leyah reaches for my hand and mine latches around her's for strength. I can feel more tears begin to fall. "We will be successful Char. Thank you." She said, her eyes never leaving mine. I nod once.

"Let's make a promise from here on out. That we will not get mixed up in silly relationships or romance until we are where we belong. At the top."  I say strongly. You wouldn't be able to tell I had been crying if it weren't for the tears streaks on my face.

The girls think it over. "I'm down. Promise." Leyah says first, smiling me. It gave me immense comfort seeing as she doesn't do it often. "Yeah, I guess that's fine." Vicky piped up. "As long as I can still have sex, you got yourself a promise Char." She chuckles. We all turn to Carrie. "Well, I've never really been in relationship anyway so...sure. I promise."

"Don't let him get to you." I whisper to myself. He already has. But I really don't want to let my girls down or make them feel like I'm going back on my word. I could tell him I'm not looking for a relationship right now and tell him to wait for me.

This man does not wait! He's off meettin' bitches in Dubai! Men like J-Hope, with so much to offer, don't wait, they take what they want. They either settle down or move on to the next.

Are we ready for that? To be a one man woman again and try the romance thing one more time? I know I haven't laughed the way I laughed tonight in an incredibly long time and J-Hope was the reason for that. He made me feel wanted and happy and appreciated. Shit I sound like air supply again.

But the fact that all of that can be felt on one not-date is remarkable to me. It took me five months to completely warm up to my last boyfriend, the shithead, and J-Hope managed to crack the code after three days for Christ's sake. I mean if J-Hope had leaned in any closer before he played the shit out of me and walked away, I 105% would have let him kiss me. God help me.

Maybe this is a sign that I should probably try again. Maybe I don't have to be so afraid of love anymore.

I just thought that word...and didn't cringe. Progress.

I was just a shell of a girl back then. Not knowing which way was up, just that I would get there. I had my heart torn apart and shredded and wanted nothing to do with bonding with new people or creating relationships in the slightest. So I didn't let anyone in for two years, had meaningless sex to fill the void, drank myself blind and wrote depressing songs to expel the painful thoughts.

But now...what was the point? It's been two years. Do I really want to be alone for the rest of my life? Can I force my friends to make the same sacrifices I did? I should never have done that to them, it wasn't right. I just hope they can forgive me for what I'm about to get myself into.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

Me: What if I told you there might be a strong possibility of that happening?

J-Hope texts back immediately.

J-Hope: I'd say what are you doing this Saturday? I snicker at his reply gaining a suspicious look from Leyah.

Me: I don't know. You wanna decide for me?

J-Hope: Yes please. *smiley face emoji* How about dinner and drinks? Gary Danko?

Dinner and drinks? At Gary Danko?! That's like a five star restaurant! I should have known he had this kind of money. I do a little squeal causing Leyah to turn to me once again. "Char please. Silence is key." Silence is the enemy.

"I'm sorry." I say and reply to J-Hope.

Me: That sounds great actually.

J-Hope: Great. I look forward to it.

Me: Me too. Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Didn't we do this already? *crying laughing emoji* OH god here we go.

Me: Yeah except this time I don't look like an idiot. *flat line mouth emoji*

J-Hope: You're the cutest idiot I've ever seen. I roll my eyes and let out a giggle. Fuck you Jung Hoseok.

Me: Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Goodnight Charlotte.

Lord what did I get myself into?

++++++++

I wake up the next morning knowing I had nothing in particular to do today.

Should I even leave the bed? Yes. I get up and get ready for the day, whatever it may bring. I get dressed and lounge on my bed once again, scrolling through social media on my phone. Our fans left some nice comments on different outlets.

Should I text J-Hope? I toss the question around in my head and decide that it wouldn't be smart. I already allowed him to get an idea of how I feel about him, I don't want to text him 24/7 and seem desperate. Maybe I'll make him wait until the weekend. That'll teach him for playing me.

But I hate not having anything to do, I need to stay busy. I can't just sit here and wait for my band mates to pester me about why I wandered off last night and tease me about where I was. I respond to a few fans online, then I grab my wallet, phone and camera and head for the door not knowing where I was going.

But when I open the door I'm met with  Darren preparing to knock on the door, fist mid knock. He's almost as dumbfounded as I am when we face each other each other. "Uh, hey." He said in a low, unsure tone. His fist reaches up to the back of his neck and scratches nervously.

"Good morning." I reply strongly. "Excuse me." I say moving out of the room and trying to avoid this conversation. He moves further into my path and I glare up at him quizzically.

"Actually can we talk?" No. "Yeah, sure." I sigh. "They're sleeping, let's go somewhere." I move out and close the door behind me. "Okay. Where to?" He asks following me down the hallway to the elevator. "I don't know. You wanna get a drink?" We step into the elevator once it arrives.

"It's a bit early to be drinking Char." He drones in a judgmental but sarcastic tone.

He's not wrong, but-

"I meant like Starbucks genius."

"Oh! Sorry." Darren let's out a laugh and I follow suit. At least it's not as awkward in here with just the two of us now.

"But yeah that sounds good." Darren says looking down at me, meeting my eyes finally. I smile softly at him in turn and look away. We silently walk two blocks to a cafe near the hotel. We order separately because Darren knows my policies on letting other people pay for me. We sit with our orders and take a few sips each before Darren clears his throat.

"So I wanted to apologize." I just raise my eyebrows and nod once, gesturing for him to continue. "I'm sorry about last night. I acted out of turn and you didn't deserve that." I nodded not really knowing how to respond. Darren was behaving like a child last night and it wasn't appreciated, but he's usually a hot head and I wasn't expecting something like this.

"Um. It's okay, I guess." I left it there, not wanting to get into the actual dispute, knowing where the conversation would go.

"Good, I just-" Oh no. "Like I said, I was just worried because you walked away with that-that guy." He said the last word in disgust. Let's get this over with.

"I did apologize to the girls for that." He makes a face that suggest I might be mistaken about the topic of discussion. "I wasn't talking about-"

"Lemme finish, yeah?" Don't let him bring it up.

He pauses and nods and sits back in his seat. "I have to apologize to you as well. I'm sorry I ditched you guys at the concert last night and it won't happen again." He nods, still obviously bothered by something.

"I appreciate that, really." He says thoughtfully. "Of course." I take a sip of my coffee. Can I go now?

We sat in silence for a few moments when Darren opens his whore mouth.

"So are you dating the dude?" Fuck.

He looks at me hesitantly, like he was afraid of my answer. I would like to be, yes.

"No. Uh. He's just a friend. Why?" "Well you don't have many friends." "Well he's one of them." "Okay." We go back and forth.

He becomes flustered all of a sudden. He clears his throat and fiddles with  his napkin on the table. At this moment I can see J-Hope enter the cafe looking from side to side. Is he sure he's not stalking me?

Should I call him over to get me out of this mess? Would that make matters worse? I mean we have to deal with Darren sometime anyway. We've been skirting around this for so long now. The fact that we were obviously attracted to each other. If Darren asked me to sleep with him a week ago and any time before that I would have obliged, but I'm starting to think Darren has something more serious in mind than a one night stand because of the way he's acted these past couple of weeks. And I've decided to give J-Hope a chance so that's been put on hold.

"Uh, I was wondering, since you're single, uh, I'm single, ha..." I'm cringing please help. Send help!

"And I know you don't date, but...is there any possibility that, uh, maybe w-we-"

"Charlotte!" Thank you God.

J-Hope ended up being my savior anyway. A sign?

J-Hope bounds over to me excitedly. He rests his hand on my shoulder. "Hey Char! We just keep meeting each other like this. Oh I'm sorry, I'm J-Hope, hello." He says turning to Darren and holding  out his hand. Darren openly glares  at J-Hope, but takes his hand. The knuckles on J-Hope's hand go almost white and he winces from the intensity of the handshake.

J-Hope frees himself from Daren's grip and I send Darren daggers with my eyes.

"J-Hope, this is my friend Darren. Sorry about him, he's had a tragic day so far." I say emoting contempt in Darren's direction.

"Yeah, it's uh, nice to meet you." J-Hope muttered composing himself. "I remember you from the blues hall." J-Hope quickly pointed at Darren at his epiphany. "Likewise." Darren interrupts his glare at J-Hope to send a suggestive glance at me. I can practically hear the gears turning in J-Hope's head judging by his expression. He keeps looking back and forth between Darren and I and I can see a look of regret on his face, probably for intruding on this 'moment' between Darren and I.

No no no no no no!

"Okaaayyyy. I'm gonna go now. It was nice meeting you Darren and nice seeing you again Charlotte--Oh! We're still on for Saturday right?"

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Darren's eye brows touch the ceiling and his eyes go wide. J-Hope is turned away from Darren and thankfully cannot see this. "Uh--Yes. Yes we are...yup." I say looking down at the table. "Okay. See you then. Bye guys." He walks away to get his coffee leaving me in this shit stain of a predicament. I watch him exit as Darren watches his own fiddling fingers.

"Just friends huh?" He grunts with a sick to his stomach look on his face.

Hold the fuck up! He's mad at me again?!

"Hold on! That's none of your business anyway! I don't have to prove myself to you!" I say raising my voice, blinded too much by anger to remember we were in public.

"I just don't understand-!" He shouts back. Darren's volume matches mine, but he stops himself, huffs out a huge breath I didn't know he was holding and plops his hands down on the table loudly.

"You're right Char." He says calmly. "I fucking know." I say still full of adrenaline. Darren let's out a bitter chuckle. What the fuck?

"I'm just gonna go. See ya later." He takes his coffee and leaves the shop.

Well shit. We came here together, now I have to sit here with this crowd who just witnessed my public 'domestic argument'. Plus he looks pissed and a little hurt. I have to fix this somehow before things get awkward. But I also don't feel like making even more of a scene than we already did by following him. I also just don't feel like doing this.

[impala-dreamer]

Broken Crown - Chapter One

~Sam Winchester has never had the best timing. Now, as he and Dean close in on a chance to save Mary and Jack, and in turn the entire world, Sam falls in love. He can only hope this time will be different.~

Reader, Sam, Dean, Castiel, OCs

1,565 Words

Chapter Warnings:  Nothing. Show-typical opening. Possible Spoilers for s13. Nothing major. 

2018: A/N: I have been working on this for about two months and I’m ready to share. Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think. I’ve wanted to explore the theme of this with Sam for a long while. :) Also, I wrote Dean’s comment way before the finale aired and I’m super proud of it. lol.

2020: A/N: We are coming back to finish this! Chapters 1-9 have been re-edited for grammar and such.Also a new pic :)

 Broken Crown Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon 

The hallway was dark. Y/N’s sneakers squeaked on the freshly waxed floor, the treads sucking hard against the high gloss. She danced as she walked, moved by the music in her earbuds, oblivious to the voice calling after her.

“Jackie!”

Y/N marched on, shaking her hips as Justin Timberlake cut his teeth on a catchy pop song from days past. 

“Jackie, wait up!” 

Y/N did pause her journey, but it wasn’t to answer the page. With closed eyes, she stopped mid-hallway and started to dance in full, singing under her breath as she moved. “Baby bye bye bye- oh!”

Her flailing arm had whacked something solid yet soft, and Y/N opened her eyes to see that she’d landed a pretty good jab to Brian’s chest. Thankfully, her friend was a burly fellow, and he took the hit with a smile. 

“Ouch,” he deadpanned. 

“I am so sorry, dude,” Y/N laughed over the music blaring from the tiny speakers, a little too loud for the empty hallway. 

Brian chuckled and reached over to yank the wire from her right ear. “Always with the music, Jackie.” 

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes, taking the remaining earbud out. “What’s up, Brian?”

“Just figured I’d walk you out,” he said an innocent smile that hardly hid his true intentions. 

“OK.” Y/N turned back towards the door and let Brian walk with her. She knew he liked her; it was more than obvious, but she wasn’t interested. He was nice and all, but she’d heard too many secrets over the years, and his was a bed she didn’t want to rest in. 

“So, any plans for the weekend?  

“Nah, I’ve got some Netflix to catch up on,” Y/N said and stopped at the exit. 

Brian pushed the door open and stepped aside, allowing her to pass. “After you,” he grinned. 

“Thanks.” 

The night was cool but nice, and Y/N took a deep breath of fresh air as she stepped out into the nearly empty parking lot. 

“Well,” she said, turning to bid adieu to her coworker, “good night.” 

Brian stumbled over his tongue, trying to find the right words to make her stay and chat. “Uh, would you, I mean- can I give you a lift home?” 

Y/N shook her head and shoved her earbuds back in. “No thanks, I’ll walk.” Brian said something that wasn’t loud enough to penetrate Nsync chirping in her ears. “Night!” Y/N waved as she spun around, heading west towards home. 

Her place wasn’t far from the clinic, which was just one reason she loved working there. She walked to work every morning, stopped at the bakery for breakfast, had a little layover in the park to feed her muffin crumbs to the ducks; it was nice. Things were good.

As Y/N passed the pond, the wind shifted. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she slowed her walk. She kept her head down as it was, but her eyes darted around, looking for whatever had caused the change. 

A cloud of impossible black smoke wound through the trees, whipping up the wind as if shot towards Y/N. She grit her teeth and stood frozen, watching as the apparition flew by her without pause and disappeared behind her. 

Y/N turned with it, facing the clinic once more, squinting into the dark night, struggling to see where the smoke had gone. Her answer came rather quickly, for Brian’s large silhouette began barreling towards her, and Y/N nearly tripped over herself turning to run away.

“Oh, Y/N!” Brian’s malicious tone overpowered the boyband in her head, and Y/N broke into a sprint. “You know you can’t run from me.”

“I can fucking try,” she shouted in reply, but he was right, Y/N was in no shape to out run him. 

Giving up, she skidded to a halt and took a deep breath before turning to face him. Y/N held up her hands and clenched her jaw as black eyes bore down upon her and a scream ripped through the air.

“Beer,” Dean announced, as he walked into the Library, holding up two brown bottles. He reclaimed his seat across from Sam and slid the undrunk beer across the table. “Drink.”

Sam barely looked up, just lifted his chin and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, thanks.” He reached for the bottle, but missed, his eyes still stuck on the text in front of him.

Dean sat back and shook his head as he kicked his feet up onto the table. “You’ve been at that for what, a week now? Take a break.” 

An annoyed breath caught in the back of Sam's throat and he scoffed. “I...we can't take a break, Dean.” He air quoted Dean's words sarcastically. “We need to get that rift open again. Jack and Mom…”

“I know!” Dean threw up his hands and then cradled his aching head, lowering his voice. “I know. I just mean, ya look like shit, Sam. Take five minutes and rest your eyes. Nothing's gonna be lost or found while you take a nap.”

Sam sighed and wrapped his hands around the bottle. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” He sat back and lifted the beer to his lips. “What's five minutes, right?” He smiled sadly and took a sip.

They sat in silence for exactly three and one half minutes before the big door at the top of the stairs opened and a familiar voice broke through the air. 

“Dean? Sam?”

The brothers both recognised Castiel's troubled tone and gave each other a knowing look.

“So much for a nap,” Sam whispered as he sat up and leaned his elbows on the table. “What's up, Cas?”

Castiel nodded in greeting to each man as he descended the stairs and stopped at the head of the table. He noticed their relaxed postures and half drunk beers, and his brows knitted in annoyed confusion.

“Is now really the time to be drinking?” he asked, eyeing Dean specifically.

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his feet from the table top. “A,” he began in defense, “I'm always drinking. And two, we're stuck. There's nothing we can do right now.”

Castiel looked to Sam who sat up and coughed a bit. “He's right. I don't know where to look next. Every book is a dead end.”

A sly smirk lit Castiel's face and Sam narrowed his eyes in response. 

“What?”

“I think I might have something,” the angel offered. He reached into his coat and pulled out a newspaper, dropping it dramatically onto the table between Sam and Dean. 

Dean glanced at the paper but made no move to pick it up. “Care to elaborate? I've already read the funnies today.”

Sam rolled his eyes and snatched up the paper, scanning it quickly while Cas explained. “Two suspicious murders in Eltingville, Wyoming-”

“Victims had their eyes burned out,” Sam interrupted. “Angel kills?”

Castiel shrugged noncommittally. “Perhaps, but it doesn't quite fit. There seems to be no motivation for the attacks. Victims were both normal, upstanding citizens, no records or secret dealings.”

“That doesn't mean much,” Sam said. “They could be hiding things.”

Dean sat forward and grabbed the paper from Sam's hands. “Why is this an ‘us' problem? We have bigger issues right now than some rogue angel.” With that, he tossed the paper back to its original place mid table.

“Because,” Cas said slowly, more than a dash of annoyance filling his voice. “There's more to this.” He paused for effect, hoping Dean would be interested, but when he wasn't, Cas went on. “This doesn't seem like an angel killing, so there is something out there strong enough to mimic a smiting. Something powerful enough to look like an angel.” Again he waited for Dean to catch up, but it was taking far too long. “So…”

Sam saved the day. “So maybe whatever is doing this could help us open the rift?”

Cas nodded and crossed his arms, relieved that Sam understood. “It's worth a look at least.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “OK. Let's go to Wyoming.” He drained his beer and stood up, exhausted and done with everything. “When this is all done, I'm going on vacation.” Sam laughed, but Dean wagged a finger at him. “Mark my words, brother. I'm talking white sandy beaches and those fruity drinks with the umbrellas in them. I'm done. I deserve a break after this.”

“Dean, you say that every time,” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “And yet you've never been to the beach.”

Dean gasped, offended. “So it's my fault the world keeps trying to end?”

Sam cocked his head and cringed, ready to remind him that a few times, it had in fact been his fault.

“Don't answer that,” Dean snapped and spun around towards the bedrooms, heading off to pack a bag. 

Sam stood up and collected the books, clearing up his mess. “You really think this is worth a trip?” he asked Cas, who stood over him, thinking.

“I do,” Cas sighed. “There's a strong concentration of power there, and while I'm not sure what it is, it's not going to hurt to take a look.”

“OK,” Sam said, turning to shelve a book. “Road trip it is.”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Family Feast - pt 1

Day 23 of 31 Days of Ficmas! @doctorroseprompts  With the holiday coming up, these are getting later and later lol.  This is actually going to be two three parts - pt 1 is all set up (no actual feast).  Though, feel free to feast on human!Ten in all his stuttering flustered glory!

@timepetalsprompts - bingo - awkward holiday moments, Tennant  - hair, neck,  ear, eyebrow.  Also this nonny prompt about faking a relationship.

Ficmas Masterlist 2017, Day 23

#1 in the Cosier With You Universe

AO3

---

“-fifty three’s your change, have a good holiday!” Rose said brightly, handing the coins to her favorite customer.  James accepted them automatically, staring at her and seeming deep in thought.  He’d been acting odd since he walked in; while usually his mouth was going a mile a minute, he’d hardly said two words to her today. When he didn’t move, she tried again.  “You’re all set, your drink will be down at the end when it’s done.”

Still he frowned at her, though he seemed to be looking just past her head while lost in his own.  The caring, people-person side of her wondered what he was thinking so intensely about; the proprietor-with-a-long-line-of-customers half wished he’d wake up before people gave up on waiting.

“James?”

Nothing, he stood frozen.  Come on mate, I can’t afford to lose any business, even for someone as gorgeous as you.

“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours?” she tried, verging on desperate, making Amy at the next register snort with laughter even as the customer behind James checked her watch impatiently.

“You wish,” her friend muttered, and Rose kicked out her, the toe of her boot barely grazing the redhead’s calf.  Thankfully, the childish moment was hidden from her customers.

“That’s nice,” he finally offered vaguely, finally, finally shuffling off slowly towards a table by the window, drink & snack (gingerbread hot chocolate, banana nut muffin) ignored at the pickup counter.

“Bye?”  Rose watched him go, only able to spare a second of worry before having to turn to the next customer.  He’d be back to pick it up, and even if he wasn’t, she’d just refund him next time he was in.  For customer-service reasons, of course, not that she’d been wanting an excuse for ages to buy him a drink…

Five minutes and three customers later she’d almost forgotten the exchange in the mid-afternoon rush when James reappeared in front of her, much more with it and wide eyed, looking vaguely like a deer in headlights, order in hand.

“What?!”

Rose and Amy burst into laughter, Rose smiling apologetically at the customer he’d butted in front of before rolling her eyes at James.  “I was trying to get your attention, you seemed lost in space,” Rose explained with a smile.

Amy, to her credit, kept the line going, though Rose had no doubts she was listening to every word.

“Yeah.”  He fidgeted with his takeaway cup before looking back up at her.  “Say, do you get a break?”

Rose’s heart leapt with excitement and anticipation- looks like I won’t have to make the first move after all!

“Yeah, course we do.  Go ahead, I can cover,” Amy interrupted, give Rose a meaningful glare.

Biting her lip Rose checked on the line, and felt better at seeing only a few people waiting now; she didn’t feel so bad at the idea of abandoning her employee to them, thanking her with a squeeze to the elbow as she passed.  Disappearing into the back for a moment, she hurried out of her apron, but took the time to fluff her hair and re-apply her lipstick.

Easing out from behind the counter she crossed the small sitting area to the table by the window where James sat nervously picking at his muffin; it said something to his state of mind that anything more than a few crumbs remained.  And, perhaps, more to how closely she’d been watching him since he started visiting her shop.

“Hi,” she giggled nervously, sliding into the seat and folding her hands on the tabletop.  She was breathless, hope and anticipation running rampant and making it hard to think straight.  After so long spent daydreaming about this moment, it’s presence was nerve-wracking.

“Hi,” he breathed back, eyes still wide.

They sat there for several long moments staring at each other with dumb smiles on their face, though the long they sat in silence, the more curious and expectant Rose’s expression became.

“Oh!” he finally exclaimed, eyes lighting up.  “I asked you here for a reason.  Not to just stare at you.  Not that I don’t like staring at you, but you’re clearly busy, and I-”

“Yes?” she cut him off, leaning forward eagerly, biting her lip.  She tried to keep her expression open and inviting, without coming across as desperate.

“Um, do you have plans on Christmas Eve?”

A promising, if unusual, start.  “Um, in the evening.  With Mum.  But I can cancel!” she hastily added, not wanting to blow the moment.  WHY did I mention my mother?  Why?

“Right,” he said vaguely, combing his fingers through his hair before rubbing at the back of his neck.  “Here’s the thing – uh, I have a party to go to at my sister’s that afternoon, more of a lunch really.  And I was hoping you might go with me?”

“You want me to go to a Christmas luncheon at your sister’s?” she repeated.  While she wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, it did seem a bit… sudden to already be meeting his family, at the holidays no less.  Does he think we need a chaperone or something?

“Yeah.”  He tugged at his ear, and she narrowed her eyes.  Despite most of their interactions being approximately three minutes long, they did occur nearly every day (sometimes twice), and one could learn a lot about another person in three-minute segments.  And to her knowledge, he was giving off every tell he had.

“Is there something more?”

“Um,” he kept fidgeting, looking anywhere but at her, still stabbing at his muffin with a fork.  “Here’s the thing.  My sister is… opinionated.  And, uh, brash.  We love each other desperately but she can be, well, overbearing.”

“Good to know,” she said slowly, trying to let him go at his own pace without blurting out all of her questions.

“And, well, she’s been wanting me to date for quite a while, and eventually, I, er, may have told her I was seeing someone?”

“And you want me to play the role?”  Rose’s heart dropped, and she hoped her disappointment wasn’t visible on her face; he was a customer, a good one, and she didn’t want to drive him away.  Deciding to wait out his explanation, she just raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“Uh huh.”

“Why me specifically?  You must have female friends she doesn’t know.”  She tried not to let her imagination run away without her, though she couldn’t help but be pleased that at least he saw her as fake-girlfriend potential, if not the real thing.

“I do,” he allowed, shifting in his seat.  “But, she, well, Donna, she won’t just accept ‘oh, I’m seeing someone’.  She needs details.  And I panicked, and it kind of got away from me, and now here we are.”

“Still don’t see why me,” she prompted.  In hindsight his reluctance would likely be cute, but in the in the moment, it was toying with her heart.

“Itoldheritwasyou.”

“What?”

“She wanted details!  And I somehow, kind of, mentioned you.”

Her eyebrows shot up, even as inside she danced at the knowledge that he thought of her when she wasn’t taking his coffee order.  “Mentioned me how?”  Leaning back in her seat, she wished she’d brought a cup of something with her to occupy her hands, and maybe obscure her mouth once in a while.

“Well, that you worked in the local coffee shop, and we got along, and one thing led to another.”

Be cool, Rose.  Like he said, it’s just a story.  “And how long have we been ‘dating’?”  Hurt feelings aside, it was starting to get amusing, the way he appeared to be so full of nervous energy he was thirty seconds away from vibrating off the chair, onto the floor, and out the door never to be seen again.

“Eight months.”

What?  “And how serious a relationship is this?”

He tugged his ear again, voice going squeaky.  “I may have implied I’d been ring shopping?”

She couldn’t help it; she burst into laughter.

“Stop laughing!” he protested weakly, and she had to put her head on the table as she shook.  “Rose!”

“Sorry,” she finally managed to gasp, lifting her head.  “It’s just – you see how absurd this is, yeah?”

His lower lip protruded sullenly, and she fought back the urge to kiss it.  “Of course I do,” he said miserably.  “But I’m too far in.  And if I try to say that we broke up, she might very well come down here and try to win you back for me herself.”

“Have you considered just telling her I’m working and couldn’t switch shifts?” she offered practically, and his head shot up.

“That’s brilliant!” he enthused.  “I’ll try that.  But, um, knowing Donna-”

“Then we’ll make it work.  At the very least, it’ll be an interesting story for my Mum.”  Rose grinned, and he smiled back.

“I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow,” he promised, extending one hand.

“Sounds good,” she bit her lip, shaking his hand seriously.

What has he gotten me into?  And heaven help me, I want to see it through.

-

The next morning found Rose and Amy once again manning the tills in the middle of a rush, and ill-tempered customers had already knocked Rose’s customer-service smile down from aggressively cheery to merely please don’t yell at me.  “Welcome to Bad Wolf Bakery, what can I get you?” Rose greeted the fuming redhead in front of her, trying to be as pleasant as possible to ease what promised to be a tense transaction.

“I’d like to talk to your manager,” the woman huffed, crossing her arms.  Already?  What could possibly have happened?

Rose’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Amy for help, who merely shrugged.  “I’m so sorry ma’am, is there something wrong?”

“Yes!” she snapped.  “What kind of slave labor turn of the century factory is this?”

“I don’t-”

“Listen, Rachel, I’m sure you’re lovely and that’s not the problem.  My brother’s girlfriend works here, and can’t get one afternoon off to attend a bleeding family get together!  Well, not if I’ve got anything to say about it!” the woman argued, and a knot tightened in Rose’s stomach as she understood.

“You’re Donna,” she breathed in wonder – James’ description hadn’t done the woman justice.

“Yes…  How’d you know that?”

“I’m Rose,” Rose greeted, extending her hand.  He’d said she was overbearing, and perhaps a bit, but she was charmed at how much she clearly cared for her brother, and the lengths she’d go to.

“Pleasure,” Donna bit out, shaking her hand before sighing.  “Sorry – this wasn’t how I wanted to introduce myself.  James called and said you couldn’t get off, and that’s not – you need to be there.”

Rose smiled politely, panicking inside on how she was going to sell this drama she was now trapped in without James’ input.  Trying to buy some time, she started, “Let me go talk to my manager-”

“Oh!”  Amy exclaimed from beside her, looking up from her phone.  “That was Rory, his shift just got changed so we can’t do the 24th.  I can cover for you?”

“Oh, would you really?”  Donna gushed, looking at her fellow ginger.  “That’s lovely!  We’ll see you then, Rose!  This is going to be brilliant!”

As quickly as the woman had blown in, she swept out again leaving unknown destruction in her wake.

“Thanks,” Rose said dryly to Amy as the next customer stepped up to the counter.

The other woman shrugged.  “What else could you do?”

Rose just stared out the door, wondering how she would explain this to her mother.

-

“So it’s all sorted,” James greeted her cheerfully that afternoon when he entered just as the rush was ending.  “Told Donna you’ve got work, so you’re off the hook!”

“Is that so?”  Rose smirked back at him, folding her arms in front of her.  She’d had a good few hours to come around on the idea and see the humor, and was looking forward to his expression.

“Yep!”  He popped the letter, looking so pleased with himself Rose was almost sorry to burst his bubble.

Almost.

“Cause she came in this morning demanding to speak to my manager, trying to get me off the schedule.  Amy jumped in and offered to cover, so I am free as a bird and she knows it.”  She raised an eyebrow at him, biting her lip to hide the smirk when his face fell.

“I should have known,” he sighed sadly.  “She accepted that way too easily.”

Rose nodded.  “Looks like there’s no getting out of it.”

“Are you willing?  I can still-”

“No, should be interesting.  I certainly liked her, at least.  Though, hang on, how does she know where I work?”

James ruffled his hair.  “I may have mentioned it.”

“Exactly how much have you mentioned me?”  Rose asked, eyebrow going higher when he blushed.

“Enough.  All true, though,” he assured her.

That, she doubted, pointing out, “Except for the fact that you’re considering asking me to marry you.”

His face turned a lovely shade of fuchsia at that, making him look adorable.  “Right, except that.”  He scratched his neck again.

“So…”

“Are you really willing to put up with this just for me?” he blurted.

“Are you sure you want me to tag along?” she shot back.

“Yes,” he said emphatically, blushing again as his desperation leaked through, melting her heart.

Something about it made Rose brave enough to ask, “And, maybe, if it goes well we can get coffee or something after the holiday?”

James’ eyes lit up, and he slowly smiled.  “Oh, a holiday lunch with my sister?  Definitely earns you dinner.”  Just as quickly as it appeared, the suave air vanished as he panicked.  “If, you know, you want.  Or just coffee would be fine.  I like coffee.  Obviously.  Though I don’t know where I’d take you – normally, this is my go-to place but who wants to go to work on a date?  Not that I’m assuming it’d be a date!  Though it could be, if you wanted?  But definitely no obligation!”  By the end his eyes were wide with fear as he audibly snapped his jaw shut.

“A dinner date sounds perfect,” Rose promised with a smile.

He wilted in relief.  “Good.”

“Yep.”

When he just stood there, she asked with a laugh, “Did you actually want to order something?”

-

“Explain this to me again?” Jackie asked as she watched Rose finish her makeup.

“Mum…”  She bit back a sigh; in the three days since she’d told her mother about the invitation, including the deception, she’d had to repeat the same store over and over, answering the same questions.  Knowing it came from a place of concern and love didn’t make it easier, though, and she’d long since started to wish she’d just lied.

“I mean, what do you actually know about this bloke?”

“I know… I really like him.  I know he’s sweet, and charming, and he obviously likes me.  I think… I think this might actually go somewhere, Mum.  More than Jimmy or Mickey.  Something real, you know?”  Ready to wait outside at this point to avoid more questions she grabbed her things and headed for the door, reaching it just as there was a knock.

Taking a deep breath she opened the door, greeting James with a shy “Hey.”

“Hi.”  He smiled nervously, thrusting a small bouquet of flowers at her.  “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” she laughed, accepting them carefully.  “Thank you, they’re beautiful.  And, uh, James, this is my mum.  Mum, this is James.”

“How do you do?” James offered his hand, only for it to be ignored, her mother crossing her arms instead with a suspicious gaze.

“No funny business, ya hear?  You won’t get away with it – I promise you that,” she told him fiercely, and he swallowed hard.

“None at all, ma’am.  Promise.  She’ll be perfectly safe.”

“We should go,” Rose cut in with a smile.  “Mum, I’ll be back later.”  Turning her back on James, she glared at her mother, handing off the flowers.  “Bye.”

Without waiting for a response she marched out the door, hoping she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

[jungnoir]

wips tag!

thank you @wonhopes and @seoulscapes for tagging me!! I actually don’t know if there is a limit on how many wips I can do so I’m just gonna put the ones I’m most excited for (some may not actually be listed in my wips lol)

the boy who can’t cry | one shot.

⇢ hades!jeon jungkook/reader.

⇢ supernatural, romance, dark.

↴

He was a skinny, small thing, hair black as the clothes he wore and cut bluntly above his brows. There was not a hair out of place even as the wind continued to blow all around you. His attire was odd too, not necessarily for a funeral, but rather for a little boy who barely looked a day older than you. His pants cut off at above his knees with a strange design sewn into the hem, resembling something of small dragons. His shirt was also black, done up cleanly to his neck and a loose, draping coat hung off his shoulders. None of his clothes seemed to catch light, and as his equally dark and wide eyes found yours, you gulped a little too loud. You swore he didn’t look real.

“What are you doing all the way over here, getting yourself into trouble?” He spoke like a fully grown adult, bushy eyebrow raised as if he was inspecting you.

“Uh... my grandma-” “Oh, I think I see your grandma. You two look just alike.”

You look at him oddly, the little boy gleaming and revealing a set of teeth resembling quite cutely to a bunny. It certainly didn’t match the rest of him. “She’s dead.”

He looked at you as if you’d told him the sky was blue. “Yes. I’m aware.”

“How can you see her if she’s dead? You wouldn’t know unless you could see through the ground.” You assess the strange boy once more, wondering if maybe he had a screw loose or two and that’s why you were having such a funny conversation. He certainly looked capable of it.

He laughs, the sound squeaky and childish and the only fitting thing about his age, “I don’t see her body. I see her soul. It holds her resemblance from when she died.”

You stare even harder at the strange boy. “You can’t see souls.” “I can see them as clear as day. Watch.”

Then, without warning, his free hand grabs yours and tugs you forward, turning you away from the field of misguidedly lovely flowers to the site of your family still grieving. But instead of seeing them, just simply them, you see much, much more.

1-800-bad-date. | one shot. (to elaborate about this one: reader’s job is to save people from bad dates. they call and can choose to remain anonymous or not.)

⇢ nakamoto yuta/reader.

⇢ romance, humor.

↴

It goes like this. If you love someone, let them go, and if they come back they were always meant to stay, right?

What if you hate someone and you violently, painfully, vigorously shove them away from even the very recesses of your mind the moment you graduate high school and aren’t obliged to see them five days out of the week, nine months out of the year, and suddenly they come crashing back into your life like a bowling ball and you, the unsuspecting pin? Were they meant to stay too?

You hoped not, staring with expanded eyes from your place at the front of the restaurant, an attendant with her sleek bun and tight expression turning irritated the longer you ignored her repeated question of “which party are you here to see?”. Past the two heads faced away from where you were, you could see clearly the man who had called you not twenty minutes ago, begging for an escape from the clutches of a date he hadn’t meant to be invited into.

His dark hair was styled clean and precisely, falling in smooth waves around his head and stopping just shy of the center of his earlobe, the style that many other successful business men copied but couldn’t quite pull off the way he did. His jaw was sharp and clean-shaven, nose pointed upward as he kept his head held high before the couple seated across from him at the table a stone’s throw away from you. The woman chatted animatedly to him even though he obviously wasn’t focused on her. He, who had not been listening since the moment he’d locked eyes with you, or rather, the heavy blue necklace laced around your neck, the one that “you’ll see when I arrive. don’t panic, act pleasantly surprised when I show up, and I’ll get you out before you know it.”

You had cursed his name the minute your diploma was handed to you and your high school career of attending classes alongside the jerk had ended, for God’s sake. Of all the people to save from a bad date, it had to be Nakamoto Yuta.

a moment to think | one shot. voltron!au.

⇢ coran!kim taehyung/reader. 

⇢ comfort, romance.

↴

In the small amount of time you’d gotten to know him, he had never once shown an emotion much stronger than mild dislike. He had a tendency to be a little overdramatic, but he was usually playing things up for shits and giggles, you knew that much was true.

And still, in that small amount of time, you’d never seen a tear from the alien boy fall from his eyes.

“Taehyung?” You call gently, when he still hasn’t turned around and his hands are covering the expanse of his face. His longer fingers extend from the top of his forehead down to his chin, hiding any bit of his expression from you even as you round closer to the boy, “Are you alright?”

He makes a small sound, something like a whimper- or maybe a laugh? -and nods his head, hands still firmly stuck to his face. “Very much, yes,” his voice comes out muffled behind his palms, “the… it’s the stars. It’s not unusual to cry looking at them, you know… not that I was crying!”

Standing beside Taehyung, your front turned toward his side, you can now clearly see the wet stains on his baggy white sweater, the sleeves of which cover a good majority of his hands. Surely, if you pulled his hands away, the ends of them would be wet too.

“If you’re not crying, you can look me in the eyes then, right?” You question, keeping your voice soft. Why Taehyung hadn’t thought to go somewhere private and not so close to the sleeping quarters is beyond you, but you doubt you’ll get to move him anywhere in this state.

“Ah, no can do. You see, an Altaen fresh out of sleep is a very unsightly thing. Our faces kind of morph into the facial equivalent of a gophlegorf’s behind. Very gross. I’d like to save you the trouble.” You recall the gophlegorf, one of the many galactic beasts Taehyung had elected to school you and the others on during your first few days on the ship. While the others hadn’t bothered to pay him much mind save for Yoongi, you’d been absolutely fascinated. That had been another reason he always liked you: you listened to him.

Now, if only he would realize you were willing to do that for him again, right now.

the fifth | one shot.

⇢ witch!park jinyoung/reader.

⇢ supernatural, romance.

↴

They stopped their humming and took a sip of their tea, “You reek of youth and good intentions, I could sense your aura from eight miles away. You really took your time getting here.”

The voice is smooth and not at all bothered by your presence, even as you are being held tight in a vice by their magic and your words have been stolen from your mouth before you’ve even thought to speak them. If they saw you as a threat, they sure as hell didn’t sound like it.

You open your mouth to speak again, and the person seems to mutter in surprise before you’re landing back onto your feet so hard and so fast you go tumbling to the hardwood floor, and when you mutter a curse or two under your breath, you find whatever spell was placed on you has left you completely.

“Sorry,” the apology doesn’t sound that apologetic at all, “I cursed the knocker. Anyone who touches it gets roped up like that the minute they step foot on my staircase.”

You raise your head from where you’re looking over your energy drained body, the magical chains having left more than just a touch behind, and come to find that standing before you is the witch you’d been assigned to check on, looking very nonchalant for someone whose home had technically just been broken into by a strange person out of nowhere. His profile and the interviews done on him back when he was still attending the Seoul Institute of Witchcraft didn’t do him nearly enough justice. His magic was radiating, practically cooling you with its presence as he stared down at you, waiting.

He wasn’t a giant, but he was fairly blessed with height, long legs adorned in old, dirty jeans that looked torn at the denim and a draping black tee shirt tucked into the hems of said jeans, looking far too big for just him yet attractively hanging off his shoulder and exposing his tanned collarbone underneath. His short hair was midnight black, held back by a thin, bright pink elastic headband adorned with white heart patterns that you really wanted to question, but his eyes drew you back in with the topic at hand. Who were you, and what were you doing in his home?

“So what happens to the people that just barge in?” “Struck dead on the spot,” your eyes widen considerably and you swear you see his lip quirk up, “don’t worry. I’m a green witch, and my mother was trained in the art of resurrecting. I’d bring you back to life as soon as I noticed you were of no threat to me. The knocker tends to draw in those that aren’t coming to kill me though, so usually that resurrecting thing doesn’t come into use that often.”

You stare into his dark eyes, trying to find any traces of sarcasm, but disturbingly find none, “Yeah, cool, okay. I’m already regretting this.”

encore | one shot.

⇢ fae!min yoongi/reader.

⇢ fantasy, dark.

↴

“Ah Suga, loosen up, hm? We’re just making friends.” The fairy who wasn’t holding you captive grinned, moving in closer to Jungkook’s neck, the boy wincing away at the closeness. You could feel your anger rising and you reached your free arm out to shove the fairy away in an act to protect the younger boy.

“Paws off.” You growl, and the fairy growls back with a look to kill.

Suga however, seems heavily unconcerned by the situation, his fingers laced together behind his back with a confidence that impressed you, but you still weren’t sure what exactly he was playing at at the moment. “I understand very well what you’re doing. But if I didn’t make myself clear before... release them and I’ll spare your measly lives.” 

Something dark coats Suga’s tone when he threatens them a second time, and you notice the effect instantaneously, the two Fey immediately releasing both you and Jungkook with an urgency to get away. They cower into each other and look at Suga with fear, “S-Suga, seriously-” 

The fairy behind you raises his hand and you watch with barely concealed horror when their mouths slam shut, their lips painfully melting into each other as their screams go unheard. The dancing Fey around them couldn’t care less. 

They look between each other, almost clawing at the other’s mouth in an attempt to reverse whatever Suga had done, when the powerful Fey speaks once more, “It’s only a curse. You act like you’ve never been tricked before.” The sharp line that is his mouth quirks up some into a sinister smile, leaving you both winded and fascinated.

The troublesome Fey look at Suga once more and flea through the crowd, most likely as far away as they could get from the fairy now standing beside you, looking minutely interested in Jungkook, “They haven’t done anything to you, have they?” 

Jungkook, stunned by the question or rather the one asking it, shakes his head no silently. 

Suga nods and raises his hand upward, making both of you flinch, but it is you that jumps in front of Jungkook before anything could happen, “Don’t...” You start, until you see that his hand is extended in greeting, and not to curse. 

college boyfriend!joshua | headcanons

⇢ joshua hong/reader.

⇢ fluff, romance.

you’re jittery, knowing class starts soon and you already don’t have that much time to book it to your next class at this rate, but you have to have your coffee

finally,,, you reach the front..... and....

“hi there! what can I get you this lovely afternoon?”

in the words of jeonghan again, whom the fuk-

“u-hhuhhhuuu hhh ????” 

windows has shut down unexpectedly

this beautiful specimen of a man is smiling down at you without a worry in the world, blinking softly with the longest, prettiest eyelashes you’ve ever seen on a guy

his hair is short and well kept, roots dark and colored with highlights of chestnut throughout

he’s in the uniform but that’s really only black slacks and a half apron; he’s wearing a really nice baby blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his collarbones are just slightly exposed with only two buttons undone at the collar- !!

this was a lot of fun omg. makes me wanna get to work (wink wonk).

I will tag: @choco-seventeen @tendershepherd @stormae and yeah i’m bad at tagging people so I think I will end it here 🙈

[hsj-scenarios]

LOL you guys make Ryosuke seem like such a perfect man. Good with girls and everything LOLOL so! I'm gonna be a joke and request a one shot or anything. With Ryosuke having a crush on the reader and being a nervous and clumsy prick about it lol. Don't get me wrong. I adore Ryosuke but 🤣 Sometimes I like to see him being a cute loser LOL mods~ お願いいたします！🤣🤣

( Note: Keito ghost wrote this request. – Mod L )

Today was the day.

The dressing room mirror illuminated the idol’s face as Ryosuke surveyed his own appearance, paying little attention to the stylist who had already currently been working on it. He had to look the best of the best today. No wrinkles in his clothing, no blemishes on his skin untouched by makeup, and certainly no flaws in his hair. Today, he wasn’t going to be working with just anyone on the drama that he was filming for. He was working with the object of his long standing crush.

You.

Though, actually, ‘working’ meant that by chance he was working with an actress; of whom you were the private assistant. Also, ‘today being the day’ honestly meant that today had to be the day that he needed to make a move – this being the last day of recording.

For five months, the time it took to record the series he had pined over you from afar. You were just too cute to avoid. The veteran actress you were working for, Ishihara Satomi, was a kind employer, though it was obvious you had been new – at least to working under such a celebrity. Your diligence in pleasing Satomi was endearing and cute, and Ryosuke was also able to first-handedly witness a sweet friendship budding between the two of you through the months.

If only life could go that well for him.

The best he could conjure up, socially wise, whenever he got close to you was a ‘hello’ and even then he was severely prone to stuttering. Actually, he was convinced that you thought he didn’t like you. It was too often he tried to hide his quickening heart beat and sweating palms around you, so he would put on a mask of indifference. Had he ever smiled at you? He couldn’t remember. Still, you would be nothing but smiles whenever he came your way.

That smile. That was the cause of his stuttering.

“Yamada-san?”

He could remember the first time he’d laid eyes on you now.

Knocking on Satomi’s dressing room door, he’d only meant to go over a few pages of the script. Not to catch a case of heart flutter at the pretty face that greeted him instead of the actress. The door opened and his heart nearly stopped, brows raising upwards.

“Uh…” Is Ishihara-san here? He’d meant to say.

Your own eyes went wide before putting on the brightest smile he’d ever seen. “Ah, you’re here for Ishihara-san. Am I right? Please, hold on.” You turned before he could say more, not that he could even have raised the gall.

“Uh…huh.” He dumbly managed to finished, script in his hands held tightly. His feet were practically glued to the floor, even when Satomi motioned for him to come in.

A perplexed look on her face, Satomi tried to urge him into the room once more. “Yamada-kun? Yamada-kun…?”

Nodding stiffly, he inched his way into the room. His head felt light and stomach weak, instantly regretting his decision to be a workaholic and want to know the lines more throughly. He should’ve just stuck it out on his own. “I-I apologize for intruding,” He apologized. “I’m just, uh, stuck on how my character is supposed to come off on this part and I,” Shit. Once again, he hesitated. Against his better judgement, his eyes kept trailing back to you as if you hadn’t already discarded the conversation and been preparing coffee for Satomi. “I wanted to ask your opinion, Ishihara-san.” He rushed the last words.

A confused look crossed the veteran’s face as she glanced from Ryosuke to her personal assistant, though neither of the two were any the wiser. The former’s eyes on the latter and the latter in their own world, trying to determine how much sugar to put in Satomi’s coffee cup.

The actress gave a soft smile. “You know, Yamada-kun, I see you haven’t lost that cute innocence of a teenager.” She chuckled.

“Eh?” At that, Ryosuke was muddled. “I-I’m sorry?”

Satomi brushed his question off, shrugging. “Heh, it’s nothing. Please, sit down.” Gesturing to the chair next to her, she wait until he was situated to turn to her assistant; who had just given her the cup of coffee. “Here, let me introduce you. This is my assistant; ____.” She glanced up at the other. “Obviously, you already know of Yamada-kun.”

“Yes!” You turned your gaze to Ryosuke once more, who had perked up in his seat. “It’s nice to meet you, Yamada-san.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Palms already sweating, he could only conjure up the most basic of greetings as seconds went passed. Say something else, something inside him was egging on. Still, his mouth once again remained shut even though Satomi allowed him the timeslot to say more.

Suddenly, the floor was very interesting.

“Yamada-san?” The stylist prompted him out of his thoughts. “You’re done.”

He had to double take at the woman, no aware that she had finished or even called his name. Honestly, after remembering the time that he met you – and the various, similar, meetings after that – he hadn’t felt so confident in himself anymore. “Oh…Thank you very much.”

Pushing the intruding thoughts of you aside, he took on the work day as he would any other one; giving it 110% of himself and being nothing but professional. Still, there were moments when you caught his wandering eye and he was reminded of the goal that he wanted to accomplish at the end of the day. Getting your contact information. A number, an email, something so you wouldn’t disappear from his life.

The only other person who knew how bad he had it was Daiki, who’d told him to just go for it and talk to you. You’re going to finally talk to them on the last day? You’re already too late, the other group member had laughed at the ace’s confession – to which Ryosuke had lightly shoved his shoulder. ‘I’m not brave like you!’ He had told the other.

It was imbedded in his mind. For so long, he’d strayed away from the thought of romance and dating. It was simply off limits as an idol. Even when others would slyly hide their relationships, he was too paranoid about ruining everything that he’d worked for. Now, when he finally wanted to take a chance, he seemed to have had forgotten how to even flirt. Or, talk eloquently at all.

‘You and Ishihara-san have so much chemistry!’ Someone had told him once.

If only they knew that said chemistry was only possible when he pictured you in his mind.

Tired of slipping in between serious and lovestruck sap, he was grateful when his long awaited break finally came along; moving to sit in his chair near the set.

“Yamada-san?”

Your voice brought him harshly back to reality, missing the chair by a few inches and falling to the floor. His script fell from his hand, and it the floor with an embarrassing ‘thud’. A few other members of the production turned to see where the noise had come from, some laughing at the idol who’d just fallen on his butt.

You gasped, quickly reaching out to help him up. “Oh, no…Yamada-san, are you okay? I’m sorry, I must’ve taken you by surprise…”

To be honest, yes.

It was hopeless. He knew his face was the color of a strawberry by now. Call him Ichigo for real now. No, actually, just bury him because he was dead. He hadn’t felt such a level of wanting to be invisible since he started high school. Actually, could he go back to high school and warn himself that this would happen in the future? God, take him now.

“It’s fine.” Trying so hard to play it cool, he disregarded the hand held out to him and brushed himself off. Waving off the staff that had gathered, he tried to defuse the situation and save what little face he had. “I’m fine! It wasn’t your fault.”

Turning to sit firmly on the chair that he missed previously, he hadn’t noticed the spurned expression on your face before you quickly fixed it. “Well,” You continued, shooting a glance behind yourself before looking forward again. What he had noticed was that your smile was weaker than it usually was. “Ishihara-san had nothing for me to do, so she asked me to see if you needed help with anything.”

“She…” Eyes widening, Ryosuke pointed to himself. “Me?” His words were anything but put together and he was all too hyper aware of the fact. Why wasn’t he as suave as the character he was playing? He searched for Satomi among the crowd of people, spotting her going over something with the director. Catching his line of sight, the actress merely shot him a wink.

She knew.

Needing something to do with his hands, he brushed the pages of his script with his fingers. This was happening. There was no Satomi to mediate, no passing you in the hallway (no bumping into a wall after attempting to speak to you), and nowhere for you to really go as there was no work to be done right now. This was it; he was alone with you.

His mouth felt dry.

“C-Can I have some water, please?” How’s work been today? He’d meant to say.

His foot tapped nervously as he admonished himself for chickening out already, seeing your retreating figure from the corner of his eye. He hit his forehead. Stupid, stupid…

You were like lightening, back at his side within a few seconds with a water bottle in hand. “Here you are! Oh, wait…” An anxious look crossed your face as you retracted the bottle. “Uh, did you want cold water or room temperature?” You looked on, genuinely wanting to know his answer, and he felt the heat rising at this chance to study your features so closely.

Ryosuke stared at you for a few moment before covering his face with a hand, not wanting you to see the rising blush on his face. You were cripplingly beautiful, at least to him, and his heart couldn’t handle it. Then just say that, you idiot! His mind reminded him, though his vocal cords would’t comply. “Whatever you have,” He forced. “I’m sure that it’s alright.”

“If you’re sure…”

He took the bottle that you tentatively handed over, taking a grateful sip. It was cold, just as he subconsciously wanted, though his throat still felt parched. The painful silence that followed didn’t help. His hands were getting sweaty as well, taking him back to the first time you met. He hadn’t been with you this long since then, forgetting how weak you made him.

‘You haven’t lost that cute innocence of a teenager.’

Satomi was right, he felt as if he were some flighty, lighthearted, boy again.

‘Talk to her!’ Daiki’s voice rang in his mind this time.

Today is the day! Was his earlier thought.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before deciding to act. He was twenty-four, for goodness sake. He didn’t plan on being single forever, so he had to tackle his awkwardness at some point. He hadn’t wanted you to disappear from his life and today was the last day he would see you. Ryosuke had to act now, especially when Satomi made things so easy for him. He’d have to thank her later.

“So–”

“Yama–”

He stopped, eyes wide. The two of you had spoken at the same time, exchanging glances with reddening faces. Giving a shy laugh, Ryosuke gestured for you to go first. “After you..”

You shook your head, gesturing back to him. “Please, you can go.”

“No, uh…” Finding himself at a loss for words yet again, he shook his head and watched as you conceded to being the brave one.

You wrung your hands together before placing them behind your back, reminding yourself of the professional setting. “Well, are you sure that you’re alright with that? You seem a little on edge.” Realization crossed your face. “Or, maybe you wanted to be alone? Oh, I’m sorry!”

You moved to leave before he quickly out a hand. “Wait!” He said, louder than he meant, though no one else but you had heard. “Um, no, it’s really fine. I’m just…not that great with words.” Glancing around the room, he made sure that no one was watching as he stood and motioned for you to follow him into the hallway.

Standing at opposing ends of the hall, a few feet away, Ryosuke felt like he had asked his high school crush into the hall to confess. Honestly, it was too early for confession. What he wanted to say was an ‘I want to get to know you better’, but the words felt so heavy on his tongue. How did an idol go about asking a commoner out anyway? He didn’t even like that word; commoner.

Placing a hand in his pocket, he shuffled to and fro anxiously before steadily keeping his back to the wall. “Sorry if this is all confusing or weird, but…Uh,” He shook his head, glancing from you to the floor. Looking at you was too hard. If only you were the one he was acting with, it would so easy to imagine you as a character. At least, that way, he could disconnect himself from the conversation in some way. Turn on a switch and become his own character, spouting sweet lines about how he wanted to meet you for lunch and talk.

Still, he was Yamada Ryosuke; more average than people knew.

Less than average in some areas. Hence now.

As if sensing the situation, he noticed a light in your eyes seemed to turn on.

Oh, no. He wanted to crawl under a rock once again. You were probably going to tell him that he was a weirdo, or that you were taken, or that you didn’t even view him in that way. All were understandable, but hurt nonetheless.

The smile that he loved on your lips was long gone, and an ‘o’ shape formed instead. This was it, where he got his heart stomped on and crushed. Where he would mark it as the day that he could’ve spared his own feelings by keeping to himself. He should’ve just–

“Yamada-san,” You began. To small relief, the smile had been slowly forming on your face as you went on. Though, this time, it was shier. Sheepish. The light in your eyes was a glimmer of sweetness; a fondness. “Forgive me if this is forward. But, would you like to go out for lunch sometime?”

It was like the last string of his sanity left, before the whole thing reattached itself all over again.

His head nodded before his words agreed, wanting to get his feelings out to you as quickly as possible. “Uh-huh. Yeah, I’d love to.” His mouth moved before his mind caught up. “I mean, yeah! Actually, there’s this cafe that’s really good…”

Eyes all on you now, you laughed as his personality seemed to do a 180 turn and some new confidence arose within the man.

“Uh,” Taking out the object that sat in his pocket, he handed a card over to you. It was different from the card he gave to some, with his private phone number instead of business. “Here,” He gave a short laugh, mostly from reassurance. “I’d love to talk to you more. I wanted to speak with you during these months, but…” Think of an excuse, think of an excuse. “Hah…You know how work goes! Plus, disturbing you and Ishihara-san wouldn’t be any good.”

Well, it was partly the truth.

You did the same, giving him a business card that Ryosuke relished in taking.

This was it. He’d accomplished his goal. He spoke to you for more than two seconds. There was a new pride that swelled inside of him as he promised to call you within the next few days. A happiness sparked at the idea of spending time with you in a casual setting, where he wasn’t an actor and you weren’t Ishihara Satomi’s assistant. He was going to get to know you, his crush.

And, he couldn’t wait to shove it in Daiki’s face.

‘Too late’ his ass.