#then billions got my hopes up and has somewhat dropped me back down so it's like oh i'm extra sensitive to this lmao

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like i am fine (enough) with all the plot devicery & him being a joke, even if that's of course hardly peak fun This Is Billions and that's how things often go, this is just potentially pulling the rug out Hard when i got my hopes up thanks to the 5x05 thru 5x07 period where it was like "oh hey the writers coming through, b/c surely when they were glad to finally get to write winston as much as they wanted that meant not just more material for him in sheer runtime but also in its complexity / variety b/c of this availability; why would they want to write him in more than they did in s4 / want to keep the character around into s5 & beyond if not" like wow all that focus in 5x05 even if it was a mixed bag, his longest arc yet, oh wow his arc with rian extends beyond even that one episode, wow it's Character stuff for its own sake / his feelings seem to be presented seriously :] finally a payoff, finally the Winston Character Material

like was already into the start of s5 frustrated abt [plot device only] and this is not New but it's not just the potentially dashed (let's call them bruised) hopes of those arcs from 5x05 through 5x07, this is about his character Overall, hence the prior extremely similar frustration.......like, had sure been thinking it Could just be a coincidence that, for some reason, not only have winston and taylor not had a real conversation since 3x11, but more mysteriously winston will often engage with taylor To No Response; i am going to flip out and not in a way everyone likes or respects if the Truth is that taylor feels the same way everyone else does and has disdain for winston / allows him to be around only Begrudgingly for his limited, nigh inadvertent Usefulness, but unlike other's they Can listen to what he says & refrain from expressing their disdain usually, they'll just always feel that b/c that's the Right, Objective way to regard winston

like i said, only secondarily discouraged re: riawin & less so i suppose, b/c there's still the way rian has acted towards him / the fact it seems a lot more involved to suppose rian does not like him as a person at all / alllll the work being done by eva victor saying they have a "horrible intense passionate" dynamic which, always going "hmm. uh oh" at the horrible and i guess it's possible Intense Passionate doesn't mean they kiss, but how passionate can it get if rian does not take him seriously at all b/c she's smart like taylor and no one does, including taylor.......but as always, both pre and post riawin being introduced, going like "boy not even sure i'd want the writers to humanize winston / give him serious emotional material by giving him a romantic subplot b/c i think they'd probably make him a joke :/ aka it'd only be fine if they wrote it well as character material beyond [just a joke at his expense]" and riawin Has felt like a pleasant surprise, but now that i'm just Overall having to go "Is winston just an eternal punchline" that goes for riawin too, there's always been the underlying anxiety that Rian Could Simply Think Winston's Entertaining When He's Annoyed Into Theatricality, and tbh i think "someone Wants to interact with winston just b/c they find it amusing to rile him up & get his personality to kick in harder" would be worse than simply being dismissive and/or shutting him down / ignoring him.....5x05 could be that she Does think his variety of opinion is valuable and/or wants him around for that personal entertainment of messing with him (and not in a good way :( ) and would've gotten pedantic about luck & math at anyone who brought it up, 5x06 could be [enjoying messing with him], 5x07 could've been "she would've talked to anyone about all that".....and even if they do kiss and stuff that doesn't mean she necessarily Takes Him Seriously / is genuinely interested in him As A Person, and that he's not a joke there.....if they go right to being friends (or end up there) you'd think that'd more require taking him at all seriously / being interested in him as a person, and that's always the ultimate priority here re: rian & winston's Dynamic, possible messy romantic/sexual relationship arc or not......the material can always treat winston Seriously without the Tone being serious, you know, like so far the riawin stuff Is always fun and funny but not a joke at his expense, unless it overall ends up being that way for no particular reason but that this is a new way for winston to be pwned by the material......(am also somewhat Optimistic b/c the way rian acts around winston is Unique to those interactions, why dial that back / backtrack it.....unless, again, it's just that rian loves a good joke / to be entertained) (this is all about going "alright i'm giving up (continues to have hope)" as i have about billions repeatedly lmfao but here i am, unfortunately still Caring)

[junko-and-riri-domain]

jayla’s cafe | sjy

↬ series: cameras & caffeine | chapter one ↬ overall pairing: cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader (all members will be featured at some point throughout the series, some are in it more than others !!) ↬ overall series genres: fluff, slight angst, jake also bakes, reader is a single mom, we fell in love when we were kids but life happened so we broke up and now we’re reconnecting because we’re adults and i don’t think i ever truly got over you au, love triangle if you squint really really hard ↬ navi: next | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.3k

[ series synopsis ]

↱ You were young when you fell in love with Sim Jake. How could you not when he had a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, eyes that seemed to look deep into your soul, and a bubble of happiness around him that you wanted to be a part of? He was young when he fell in love with you. How could he not when you had a warmth that could never be replicated, a spark in your eyes that he loved to see, and your own special way of calming him down? But life had other plans for you two. After high school, he wanted to move back to Australia and start a new life with you but you wanted to stay in the country and continue the life already established for you. Things changed, your views no longer aligned, and before either of you two had broken up.

Now, a few years have passed and due to medical issues, your father has decided to temporarily step down from his position as Hybe Entertainment’s CEO, leaving the position to you. Despite all the eyes watching and waiting for you to fall since you’re so young and a single mother, you’re determined to prove them all wrong. You���ve been doing fine so far, working in such a high position and stressful environment while simultaneously being able to take the time and effort to take care of your son, Heeseung. But when you get news of your ex, Jake coming back to the country and opening up a cafe you decide to pay a visit. One visit turns to two which turns to three and before you know it, Jayla’s Cafe suddenly becomes a part of your regular routine. Jake meets Heeseung, the two instantly taking a liking to each other but unbeknownst to any of you, cameras lurk in the bushes and flash when you’re unaware. What happens when photos are revealed to the public and connections are made? Connections… that might not just be baseless rumors after all.  ↲

You let out a sigh as your eyes stay settled on your laptop screen in front of you, too focused on work to be able to glance at the time and too busy to hear your office door opening. It’s only when you feel a presence next to you, a slight tug at your hand, and the sound of your son’s voice that you’re finally brought back to reality and out of the trance that work had put you in. You smile as you smoothen out Heeseung’s hair, move the chair back a little to allow him to settle on your lap. You look up at Sunghoon and smile,

“Thanks for taking care of Hee today,” you say gratefully. Of all the billions of people in the world, you couldn’t be more thankful to have Sunghoon as your best friend. He was there for you when you were pregnant, a constant source of comfort when you needed it, and now was one of the closest things that Heeseung had as a father.

“Mhm,” is all Sunghoon replies as he takes your coat for you. While the three of you head into the elevator

“Hoonie?” you say. Sunghoon stays quiet at the nickname, simply looking at you and you continue, “I’m thankful for all that you’ve done for me but you really don’t have to any of this. After all, you’re the co-CEO of Park Enterprises with Jay and you have your own life. Maybe you should go on a few dates here and there instead of always being with me and Hee, I can set you up,” you offered. Sunghoon was hurt at your implication that there were better places to be than with you but didn’t show it. Instead,

“I don’t have time to go on dates, you know this.”

“But you have time to take care of a kid for half a day?” you countered. In all the years that you’ve known Sunghoon and have been best friends, you never could really get a read on him. You wondered what he was thinking about and the thoughts running through his mind but when the elevator finally reaches the parking lot below your building,

“It’s different because you and Heeseung are actually worth spending my time on,” he replied as you got into your car. The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a normal occurrence with Sunghoon but it felt normal and was a type of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Spending time with Sunghoon was something that you did so often that it was almost a part of your routine. Like tonight, there were times when Sunghoon would pick up Heeseung and bring him to your office and the three of you would then have dinner together. Other times, you picked up Heeseung and headed to Sunghoon’s office for dinner. Occasionally, Sunghoon’s half-brother and co-CEO of Park Enterprises, Jay would eat out with you guys too. Growing up, you were all a group of five who were stuck together like glue, Jay, Sunghoon, Yeji, you, and Jake. The Park Brothers ran the family business together while Yeji chose to travel the world, much like Jake did. You hear your name being called, causing you to look at Sunghoon next to you,

“Huh?”

“You ok? You looked so deep in thought.” You glanced behind you, looking at Heeseung now asleep in the backseat,

“Just thinking about some things is all.”

When you got to your house and started eating dinner, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing at Sunghoon every so often. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have a constant source of stability and comfort through him, but it wasn’t fair to him since he was spending so much time and taking so much effort to help you out given that you were a single mother and he had grown to become your best friend. The two of you were on your living room couch since he was spending the night and were watching a movie while Heeseung was asleep in his room. Suddenly, Sunghoon brought up a topic that you weren’t quite expecting him to but you weren’t surprised about it earlier.

“Jake’s back from Australia.” You set your cup of hot chocolate on the table and wrap the blanket tighter around you and lean your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder,

“I know.” It comes out mumbled as you keep your eyes on the screen, not quite wanting to talk about it but you knowing that you were going to have to face it eventually, nervousness now filled you.

“He opened up a cafe downtown, Jayla’s Cafe.”

“I know.”

“I’m going with Jay tomorrow.”

“Jake invited me too but I said I couldn’t go because of work.” It was a lie since tomorrow was your day off but Jake didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you weren’t ready to face Jake and you didn’t think you’d ever be. When you and Jake were younger, you fell in love but after high school, life happened and Jake chose to go to Australia while you decided to stay since you were learning how to take over Hybe Industries.

“You gotta tell him.”

“It’s not like I keep it a secret, like, people know I have a kid.” It was a dumb response and you knew it. Sunghoon called you out on it by saying,

“You don’t keep it a secret but you don’t actively acknowledge it either.” Sighing,

“Can we not talk about this today?” Or ever, you wanted to say.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But he’s back now.”

The opening day of Jayla’s Cafe went way better than Jake expected if he was being honest with himself. Whether it was due to good marketing, pure luck, or Layla’s presence in the cafe that drew in so many customers, he wasn’t going to complain about it. He was more nervous now than he was in the morning because Jay and Sunghoon would be dropping by in a few minutes. It had been years since he had seen his old friends or been a part of “high society” as most would call it due to the status and wealth you all grew up with. He missed you the most and kind of hoped that you would’ve dropped by today. But things were different now, he knew. You two weren’t the little kids who fell in love and acted on that love in your teens. You were no longer the girl who’d yell at Jake for teasing you over something dumb, you were now the CEO of Hybe Entertainment and someone that young kids could look up to and aspire to be like. He was no longer the guy who’d hold your hand or give you a hug when you cried because you didn’t need that-- him anymore.

“I was the one who decided to head back to Australia,” Jake muttered to himself in an effort to somewhat justify the years that he hadn’t seen you or anyone else except for the few times Jay would come to Australia. The bell chiming signals to Jake that someone had walked in, confirmed at the sight of Jay and Sunghoon entering inside the cafe. While you had already told him that you wouldn’t be coming, his heart still sank a little at the lack of your presence here. Greeting the guys and setting out some pastries and drinks, the three talked and caught up on things. Somewhere down the line,

“Jake, can you connect my phone to the Wi-Fi real quick?” Sunghoon asked, handing Jake his phone,

“Yeah, sure man.” Taking Sunghoon’s phone, the phone screen was still open, a mistake Sunghoon was unaware he had made. Looking at the phone screen, Jake saw a photo of you and Sunghoon which wasn’t something that was surprising to him. What did surprise him was the sight of a little boy in between you and Sunghoon, Sunghoon’s smile the brightest he’s ever seen it before. As Jake hands Sunghoon his phone back after connecting it to the Wi-Fi, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in the years he’d been gone. But throughout the night and as the conversation went on… he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

↬ a/n:

now that tatts & cupcakes is over, meet cameras & caffeine !!

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi

taglist status: open -- send an ask or comment !! ( if you comment, i respond under my main acct )​

taglist: @markleepooh | @ifvjay | @softnanaaaa | @dear-dreamie​ | @sunshineshouchan | @bloom-bloom-pow | @mykalon​ | @fairycob​ | @icywhatim​

[chudleycanonficfest]

Washing Machine Heart

Day 22, Story #2 is by @rosequartzstarswrites​

Title: Washing Machine Heart Author/Artist: rosequartzstars - @rosequartzstarswrites (Because of Tumblr settings, this is posting from my main blog, but it’s me!) Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (and background Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger) Prompt: 5+1 Rating: T (only for some strong language and non-explicit insinuations) Trigger Warning(s) (if any): none apply! 

“I can’t believe I’m going through with this,” huffed Hermione, struggling to keep up the brisk pace Ron was marking on the sidewalk.

“You never believed you’d have to, did you?” Ron said gleefully, seemingly unaware of just how hard his long-legged strides were to keep up with.

“You never told me you were that good at chess!”

“No, more like you never thought anyone could be better than you at anything!”

Despite only having been friends, close friends, with them for a semester, Harry had already become accustomed to the constant bickering between Ron and Hermione, to the point even of endearment. Coming from the Dursleys’, arguments and rebukes were something he was used to, but the undertone of friendship with which Ron and Hermione faced off was a welcome change (and a very entertaining one). Still, he tended to side quietly with Ron, and this particular time was no exception: part of him was delighted at the prospect of seeing Hermione get a tattoo.

This had all started from a ridiculous bet, born of boredom in the lounge of their dorm building. Ron had eyed the communal chessboard, battered and chipped from years of usage, and challenged Hermione to a match.

Hermione had scoffed: “Only if you want to lose, Ron.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Ron had said, exchanging a look with Harry as a sly smile crept onto his lips.

“I’m completely certain.”

“Certain enough to bet?” Ron had prodded her.

The competitiveness that, before becoming friends, was all Harry had known of Hermione had flared up in her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“When you lose—”

“If I lose, and I won't—”

“When you lose,” Ron had reiterated, “you have to get a tattoo of my choosing.”

Hermione had smirked. “Game on.”

In Hermione’s defense, Harry thought, she hadn’t ever considered she might lose. There really was no way of expecting how good Ron had turned out to be at chess, especially since —Harry thought— Hermione had based her certainty on how abysmal his grades were, against her own straight A’s, in their proofs-based mathematics class, which relied entirely on strength of reasoning. But, as it turned out, Ron was actually a master logician, if only somewhat lazy at his math classes, and this he had proved by absolutely obliterating Hermione with the fastest checkmate Harry had ever borne witness to.

And that is how they had come to find themselves out on the streets of their little college town that night, wrapped in their scarves and their winter coats to battle the first of the December chill, walking to a tattoo parlor Ron knew in the area so Hermione could be forever reminded of her loss by a tattoo Ron would choose. And if Harry knew Ron well, and knew how much he relished teasing Hermione, the reminder would be a strong one.

“I didn’t even want a tattoo,” Hermione was mumbling, more to herself than at either of them. “I never wanted one— did you know that you might not be eligible to donate blood if you have a tattoo? I mean, not that it’s impossible, but it’s a factor against you, like your weight and your age. And my family has a history of needing transfusions— oh, God, what if my grandfather needs a donation, like, tomorrow? The three-month period of eligibility won’t have elapsed, and my father can’t donate, and– and–” She froze in the middle of the sidewalk. “Oh, God, have I killed my grandfather?”

“Relax, Hermione,” Ron said, throwing a fraternal arm around her shoulders and squeezing her half in an attempt to get her walking again. “You’re halfway across the country from home. You wouldn’t be able to fly out on such short notice anyway.”

Harry had to stifle a laugh at how Hermione gaped at Ron then, a billion other dire possibilities to worry about racing through her head now. Ron, however, was less successful at keeping down a chuckle. “I’m kidding, Hermione. Besides, a tattoo will make you look badass.”

“I don’t want to look badass!” Hermione squeaked shrilly. “I’ve never been remotely interested in looking badass!”

“Well, interested or not,” Ron said as they came up to a dark brick building with a neon sign reading LOVEGOOD’S flickering above the door, “it seems like you don’t have much of a choice, because we’re here.”

Hermione let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a gasp and a whine as she looked up at the storefront that, to her, was synonymous not only with her doom but apparently that of her grandfather.

“Ron, please?” she said meekly.

Ron, however, looked gleeful and would not be deterred. “A bet’s a bet,” he declared, grabbing her wrist and beginning to march her up the three or so stairs that led up to the door of the tattoo parlor from the sidewalk. Harry lingered behind for an instant, watching the backs of his two friends as they waddled up the stairs, smiling as he listened to Ron debate whether he would make Hermione get a skull or a sailor’s “Mom” arrow-pierced heart, and Hermione pleading shrilly with him not to do either of those things. Watching them, Harry’s smile widened. He was lucky to have them as friends, that much he knew, despite the short time he’d spent knowing them. Why he hadn’t found them his freshman year was beyond him— but now, now that he had these wacky outings and constant bickering to enjoy, he felt overwhelmingly lucky that they had found him.

“Harry, are you coming in or what?” Ron beckoned him. He had stopped on the topmost step and was still gripping Hermione, whose face was a mask of pure, crystallized terror.

“Absolutely,” Harry said, hurrying up the steps with a little hop. “This I’ve got to see.”

Ron pushed open the door to the parlor with a little too much gusto, and Hermione cringed at the metallic sound of the chimes above the door as they tinkled with the announcement of their entrance. The front of the shop, sealing off the rest with a counter that had seen better days, was empty, the backroom separated by a beaded curtain.

“Hellooo?” Ron called into the backroom, marching right up to the counter. “Is anybody here? We bring a very eager customer!”

Hermione began to protest, but just as she did, an employee came out of the backroom to stand behind the counter. Catching a glimpse of her, Harry felt as if the wind had been knocked out of his chest: she was stunning. She was tall and slender, her toned arms visible through the ripped-off sleeves of her vintage Hole tee, with a curtain of straight orange hair pulled back into a long high ponytail. Her bright brown eyes glimmered atop a button-like nose that matched her small, round mouth perfectly, the pale fine face finished by a spattering of freckles. Even before she had spoken a single word, Harry felt the confidence coming off of her in waves, simply by how she propped her elbows up on the counter and eyed their party somewhat playfully. He was frozen to his place with the sight of her, hoping his jaw hadn’t dropped as low as it had felt in the wake of his awe.

Upon seeing her, however, Ron had had exactly the opposite reaction. “Ginny?” he said incredulously.

“What are you doing here?” the woman —Ginny— said without any greeting, returning Ron’s frown.

“I thought you weren’t working today!”

“I’m covering a shift for Demelza, she had a gyn appointment today.”

“Well, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have come in,” grumbled Ron. The tips of his ears were beginning to pink, a sign Harry had learned to recognize as a hint of extreme emotion in his friend.

“Well, you’re here now, so… what can I do for you?” Ginny said. “I mean, you can’t possibly be the one getting inked, Ron. You’re too much of a wimp.”

“Shut up, or I’m telling mom you got your helix pierced. That’ll make for a fun Christmas greeting when we’re back home, I’ll wager.”

Then the similarity became apparent to Harry: the freckles, the aggressive red of their hair, the same glint in their eyes… Ginny was Ron’s sister. Somehow, he didn’t know whether that was something he should feel good or bad about.

“Tattletale,” Ginny said, swatting at him. “And it’s called an industrial piercing. Not that you’d know.” Only then did she seem to remark on the rest of the party.

“Harry Potter,” she said, and Harry gulped as she crossed her muscular arms over her chest and leaned back, surveying him. “Come to get a sixth tattoo?”

“A sixth— how do you know?” Harry said, befuddled. Out of all the opening lines he would’ve expected her to use, this had not been one of them.

“You can credit the rumor mill at school,” Ginny shrugged, still eyeing him with interest. “You’re a topic of interest. Or at least among the soccer teams.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Romilda swore you had a griffin tattooed on your chest, but I told her I’d heard it was a dragon. Much more macho, I thought.”

“Thanks,” Harry said dully. What else was he supposed to say?

“Don’t mention it,” Ginny gave him a conspiratorial wink. “And if I were you, I’d find out who on the boys’ team has been giving you the eye in the shower enough to count your tats. I bet it’s Ron.”

“It’s not!” Ron said angrily, the red from his ears bleeding out onto his cheeks.

“I bet it is,” Ginny mouthed to Harry, giving him another wink. “But it’s not you?”

“Pardon?” said Harry, for whom the ‘it-is-it’s-not’ exchange had grown somewhat confusing.

“For the tattoo?” Ginny said, and Harry felt like an idiot. “It’s not you who’s getting it?”

“No, ah, actually— it’s Hermione,” Harry was knocked back into his senses as he gestured toward Hermione, who had stood, utterly baffled, throughout that whole exchange.

“Hermione Granger?” Ginny said, and Harry was almost glad when she turned her gaze away from him and toward Hermione. “As in, Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger?”

“The one and only,” Ron declared proudly, happy to be back off a topic that bothered him (teasing Ron) and back on a topic that delighted him (teasing Hermione).

“I wouldn’t have chalked you up to the tattoo type,” Ginny said.

“Oh, she’s not,” Ron said, his face lighting up as if Christmas had come early.

Ginny’s eyes darted between the dismal face of Hermione and the cheerful face of Ron, her eyebrows rising as she took it in. “Okay, I’m not going to ask about whatever this is. What am I doing on you?”

“I’m designing it,” Ron said brightly. And if Harry had thought that Hermione’s face couldn’t get more desolated, he’d been wrong.

“Christ, Hermione, what has he got on you?” Ginny said, already opening a drawer on the counter to pull out a sketchpad and a pen.

“I’m such an idiot,” Hermione grumbled.

Ron pored over the sketchpad, shielding the paper from Hermione’s eyes as he sketched. When he was done, he handed it to Ginny with a quick flick of the wrist that, much to Hermione’s dismay, ensured she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of what was on it. Ginny looked over whatever it was Ron had drawn and then looked up at her brother with a frown.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, then,” Ginny shrugged. She lifted the counter to open a gap through which Hermione could walk. “Follow me.”

Looking like a lamb led to the slaughter, Hermione looked up to heaven as if making one last, futile plea before scrunching up her nose and following Ginny through the beaded curtain to the backroom. Because yes, she hated the idea of getting a tattoo, but she hated the idea of letting Ron hold one over her even more.

Ron watched her leave delightedly, relishing in the jangle the beaded curtain made as it swallowed Ginny and Hermione into the backroom. “This is going to be good,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Oh, this is going to be so good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Harry blurted out all of a sudden. He startled himself as much as Ron when he said it, though he was glad he’d been able to pare down the question from what was actually swirling around in his head: Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister that looked like THAT?

Ron looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. It never came up.”

“You told me about every other one of your five brothers, but not the sister.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age and plays soccer.“ And is hot.

"Nope.” Ron paused and frowned. “She’s a year below us, anyway.”

“Oh, then that explains it,” Harry said sarcastically.

“It seemed like more of a second-semester-of-friendship revelation.”

“I see.”

Harry held the silence between them for a few moments more before he allowed the next question out. “She plays soccer?”

“One more of the long line of Weasleys that get athletic scholarships to Hogwarts College. Except for Percy— no, he was a disgrace, he got in on an academic grant.”

“The family disappointment, truly.”

Harry wanted to ask more about Ginny, but he held his tongue. His friendship with Ron was the most precious thing his sophomore year of college had yielded him, and he didn’t want to jeopardize it by prying further or making it seem like he had the hots for his sister. Even though he did. He suffocated that small voice at the back of his mind: he hadn’t even spoken properly to Ginny, just stood there like an idiot and let her quip freely about his tattoos— which, mind him, apparently were fodder for locker talk back at Hogwarts.

The buzz of the needle in the backroom as it started up brought Harry out of his thoughts, just in time to see a shit-eating grin appear on Ron’s face.

“I wish I could see her face right now,” he said gleefully, and Harry let himself stop thinking about Ginny to join Ron in picturing what Hermione Granger must look like seated in a tattoo parlor chair.

“It really wasn’t so bad,” admitted Hermione as they exited the tattoo parlor and went down the little steps back onto the sidewalk.

Despite his pretensions of malice, Ron’s nobility (which had never been in question, even despite his teasing) had shone through and yielded a considerably modest tattoo: a small, capital “R” in his own handwriting. Hermione, who had almost cried with relief after Ginny showed her the design, had chosen to get it on her left thigh, on the side and at the very top, right under her hipbone.

“Why did you get it there?” Harry asked as they resumed their brisk walk back to campus.

“It’s not a place you usually show. That means if a sleeve shifts or an interviewer sees, I don’t know, my ankle or something, they won’t notice it.”

“As if a tiny ‘R’ would disqualify anyone from a job, let alone you,” snorted Ron.

“Professionalism is a virtue, Ronald,” Hermione huffed, though her cheeks had gone red. “Besides, since that part of me is always covered, I’ll save myself from having to explain the story behind it to anyone that spots it.”

“Yeah, except the bloke that eventually undresses you and sees you in your panties. Try explaining what that 'R’ means to him,” said Ron. But Harry suspected Hermione wouldn’t have to: from how Ron’s eyes had widened and his gaze had lingered when Hermione had pulled down the side of her jeans ever so slightly to show them the finished product, exposing a sliver of her underwear, Harry could almost wager that Ron would be the bloke in question.

They walked in animated chatter for the rest of the way, the tattoo forgotten until Ron made a quip about Hermione now having crossed the gateway to joining a biker gang and Hermione going positively beet-red in the face with outrage. Then Harry, his hands in his pockets, simply smirked to himself and resigned himself to their bickering for the rest of the walk, knowing he was no longer needed in their exchange. Instead, he let his mind drift to Ginny. She hadn’t really spoken to him again, merely ducking out from the beaded curtain backroom and instructing Hermione on how to take care of her tattoo, saying only a general goodbye to the three of them as they exited the shop. There had been nothing in Ginny’s manner to suggest that she might be thinking of him as strongly, as irremediably, as he was of her, and yet there he was.

The main quad was mostly deserted, except for a few scattered groups of late-night library frequenters or sneaking couples, as the three of them crossed it to get to their dorm. Ron and Hermione didn’t stop arguing as they climbed the four flights up to their floor (the elevator, as usual, was broken), and only broke it off because Hermione reached her room before the boys reached theirs, slipping inside it and shutting the door before Ron had a chance to get the last word in.

“Well, that went well,” Ron shrugged as he and Harry kept walking down the hall to their room.

“You actually got her to get a tattoo,” Harry said with some admiration as they reached their door.

Ron grinned as he swiped the key card. “I may drive her crazy, but if anyone was going to get her to do something like that, it was going to be me.”

Ron pushed the door open and let them into their dorm room. He closed the door and, without taking off his coat, immediately flopped onto his bed— or, well, what could be seen of the bed under mountains of dirty or otherwise discarded clothes. Away from his mother’s chore-mongering for the first time, Ron had let himself go wild and go to the other extreme, but even Harry had to admit that the army of socks draped over the foot of his bed was beginning to smell a little stale.

“So,” Ron said, propping his head up, “no parties tonight?”

“Well, it’s a Wednesday,” Harry said.

“So what? There’s no party spirit around here?”

“Ron, it’s the last Wednesday before final exams. People are studying.”

“I wasn’t aware I was rooming with Hermione,” Ron grumbled. Harry had to admit she might have gotten to him a little. However, Ron’s irritation was short-lived, a grin appearing on his face again. “Wait, but we’re not people. We’re not studying.”

Harry surveyed the room and, despite his desire to throw in the towel for the night and have fun with Ron, felt a pang of dismay at just how much grosser it would be if they caved and did that (last time they had, they’d had a Pringle-eating contest, with devastating results for their sheets, which still had some crumbs). “No, Ron. We’re doing laundry.”

Ron groaned. “Jeez, now I’m rooming with my mother.”

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to do the laundry. I’ll do it for the both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go hang out with Dean and Seamus or whatever, see if you can get Hermione to do her second wild-card act of the day and make her stop studying to hang out with the guys.”

“Now I’m a man with a mission,” Ron said, perking up in delight at the prospect of teasing Hermione, or even seeing her once more that night.

“Just shove your clothes in the laundry bag before you go, won’t you? I don’t want to touch your nasty briefs more than I have to.”

Ron obliged, tossing all the clothes on and around his bed into his orange laundry bag and pulling the drawstring to close it. “I’ll update you on the Hermione thing,” he said cheerfully, hurrying out of the room and down the hall to the left to the room they’d left Hermione in.

Harry laughed to himself, wondering how long it was going to take Ron to realize why exactly he always seemed so eager to do anything Hermione-related, as he too threw his dirty clothes into a checkered drawstring laundry bag. Then, he hoisted one sack over each of his shoulders and opened the door using his ankle and leg to let himself out, his hands full with the laundry bags. He stifled a smirk as he passed Hermione’s room and heard the familiar bubbling sound of she and Ron rowing. If Harry knew her at all, he knew however much she might argue she’d be out of that room in an hour tops.

He groaned as he looked down the stairs, and rued the day he had been placed in the dorm with the shittiest elevator on campus. Resigning himself, he began to walk slowly down the poorly-lit stairs to the basement, where the laundry room was. However inconvenient this descent was, Harry was at least comforted with the knowledge that the laundry room would not be crowded, which would be the greater inconvenience once the elevator was fixed.

The basement was even dimmer, the white lights flickering and buzzing with electricity as Harry walked to the laundry room almost at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the laundry room was deserted, oddly quiet with none of the familiar hum and rattle of the machines as they worked. Harry knelt in front of a washing machine and began unloading the contents of the laundry bags into it, cramming them in so they’d fit because he sure as hell wasn’t shelling out quarters for two washers. When he’d made it all fit (which had involved the use of force to jam the door shut), he went to the shelf that held the communal detergent and poured it into the soap compartment. With that done, he dug out eight quarters from his pocket and inserted them into the washer’s slot, pressing the “Start Cycle” button when he heard the clink that let him know his quarters had been accepted. The washer rumbled slowly to life, jets of water trickling out as it began to spin in one direction and then the other, and it was a couple minutes before it was spinning at a hearty pace.

Rising from his crouch (he had always liked to watch the washing machine as it booted up to wash in earnest), Harry took the laundry bags and turned to head back upstairs, already thinking of what he might do to pass the time in the hour he had before he had to switch the clothes to the dryer.

He was so caught up in thinking of this that he didn’t see the person entering the laundry room at the same time as he was exiting, which ended in an awkward clash between them.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry blurted.

“No, it’s fine, I’m sorry too— Harry?”

Only then did Harry realize who he had bumped into, and only because she kept standing there did he believe it. “Ginny?”

She still wore her Hole shirt, but had discarded the ripped jeans, combat boots, and round-the-waist flannel he’d seen at the tattoo parlor. Instead, she wore frayed gray sweatpants and flip-flops, her hair pulled up from the long ponytail into a messy bun. She, however, somehow still managed to look almost unbearably beautiful. What’s happening to me?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the only thing he could think of right that second. Spotting the laundry basket she was cradling, he added: “No laundry in your dorm?”

“No, yeah, there is one, but it’s always too crowded, it being a freshman dorm and all.” Harry nodded: his first year, he too had done entirely more laundry than he had to, and was thankful by the quarters he saved just by realizing he could wear a pair of pants more than once before they were dirty. “So I use the one here. Much quieter. I know Ron’s ID and password—”

“You do?”

“He gave it to me once so I could pick up his books from the library. And my memory’s great.” She gave him a half smile and looked beyond him at the laundry room. “Doing laundry?”

“No, I just like the ambience down here. The shitty lighting and bleach smell are really my style,” said Harry. Ginny laughed, and Harry felt a rush of pride at what was probably the first witty thing he’d ever said to her. “Need a hand?”

“I’d appreciate one, sure,” Ginny said, again smiling at him. Harry moved so she could walk into the laundry room, and watched her pick one of the washing machines that lined the wall. When she’d settled on one, he crouched down next to her and help her lob the clothes into the maw of the machine.

“Tattoo parlor let out early?” he asked as they placed the clothes inside.

“More like you guys came in really late. You were my last customers— I just cleaned up and closed after you left.”

“And you work there?”

“Sure beats a regular work-study, doesn’t it?” Ginny grinned. She tossed in a Tide pod that was left at the bottom of the basket, closed the door to the machine, and rose to find the quarters needed to activate it. “Oh, shoot, I left my wallet in my other pants—”

“I got you,” said Harry, digging for eight more quarters in his pocket. For once, he was glad of his bad habit of carrying an excess of loose change in his jeans, something Hermione already got on to him about (sometimes, like when she’d gifted him a money purse, not too subtly).

“Thanks,” Ginny said, picking the laundry basket up from the ground.

Harry listened for the telling clink and then pressed the button. The washing machine whirred to a start, but for once, Harry didn’t feel compelled to watch it boot up: instead, he turned to Ginny. “So how did you come to work there?”

“At the tat shop?” Ginny asked, hopping to sit on the top of the washer where her clothes were spinning. “My friend Luna’s dad, Xenophilius—”

“Gesundheit.”

“Shut up,” Ginny said, but the hint of a laugh was (to Harry’s satisfaction) visible on her lips again. “Anyway, Xenophilius owns the place. He set up in a college town because he knows college is the first time kids are truly free to make rash, impulse decisions.”

“Like getting a tattoo?”

“Exactly. And besides, all the college students love his New Age bullshit, they think it’s very 70s, so his shop is always full. He got a big boost after he started placing crystals in the shop windows.”

“He’s in with the kids, then?”

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll be mortified. But he’s great, really. A little eccentric, but great. He knows me from when Luna and I took an art class together in 10th grade, and he’s always complimented my art, so he helped me get my tattoo artist license as soon as I turned 18 and hired me.”

“Is Luna the girl with the shaggy blond hair and the weird glasses?”

“That’s her. Though I’m surprised you didn’t know her by her bottlecap necklaces. That’s usually what people comment on.”

“Does she work there too?”

“Yeah, though not as an inker, she’s useless with a needle. She designs a big chunk of the tattoos, though, both original designs and commissions or requests.”

“That’s awesome,” Harry said. He realized that was the first time through the whole conversation that he had stopped. He’d never hesitated on what to say next: conversation with Ginny had flowed easily, naturally, and he hadn’t had to think too hard to keep it going. Still, he was a little disappointed that it had stopped. Ginny, however, seemed to share in this, because rather than say goodbye and take her leave, she opened up a new topic.

“So how long have you and Ron been friends?”

“Er– since the start of this school year, actually.”

“Really? You’d think from how he talks about you, he’d known you forever.” Harry felt a flush of happiness at hearing that Ron talked about him.

“Well, I got him for a roommate this year, and we just clicked. Then it turned out we had a lot of the same classes. And we’re both on the soccer team, so it just got better from there.”

“It seems strange that you never crossed paths your freshman year.”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, freshman year is weird for everyone. I certainly felt like I was just bouncing from one place to another. I still hang out with a lot of the guys from last year, but my friends have changed. It makes sense— the first year, everyone is trying to meet as many people as possible, as if it’s a race, but by sophomore year you know more of what you want and what you’re looking for. In a way, I’m glad I met Ron now that I’m in a more stable place, now that I know my way around the college and have a better grip on things. I have a feeling he’s a friend I’m gonna keep.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re sticking around the Weasleys,” Ginny said, and Harry felt a tingle run up his spine. Was she… flirting with him? “And Hermione?”

“Oh, Hermione’s great, Ron and I would be dead by now if not for her— I don’t know how I got through a full year without her.”

“But she’s very different from you guys, isn’t she?”

“Well— on the surface, sure, but not in the things that matter. The fact that she went through with the tattoo tonight when she could’ve kicked up a fuss and bailed out tells you all you need to know.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger is as much of a bonehead as my brother at heart?”

“Stubborn, is the word I’d use. And only when Ron’s involved, actually.”

Ginny smirked. “Idiots. They haven’t even realized it.”

Harry knew exactly what she meant. “You think it too?”

“Oh, I’d bet on it. Ten bucks says they’re together by the end of the year.”

“Hey, did our visit by the parlor today teach you nothing about bets? They can be dangerous.”

“But I’m betting against you, aren’t I?” The way she said you made Harry’s heart skip a beat. “Fine, not ten bucks. But I’ll bet you a load of laundry, how’s that?”

“Deal,” said Harry, taking Ginny’s extended hand to shake it. The touch of her palm, with its long, slender fingers, sent warmth coursing down from his hand and the length of his arm. They let go and dropped hands, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Harry thought he detected a certain reluctance in Ginny as they did.

Harry leaned against the washer, his propped elbow almost brushing up against her thigh. “How about you? How’s your first year going so far?”

Ginny winced. “As well as you’d expect, I suppose. Lots of people still behave like it’s an extension of high school, and I’m very much over that. But as things go, I’m having a blast. Being on the soccer team certainly helps.”

“Congratulations on that scholarship, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, her wide smile revealing a row of perfect, square white teeth. “You’re on a scholarship too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. My aunt and uncle would’ve never paid a single cent for me to go to college, so it was the only way. But I’m sure they were glad to be rid of me anyway.”

“They sound like lovely people,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“I should introduce them to this Xenophilius sometime. My uncle Vernon would have a stroke just walking into that shop.”

“Well, if you ever swing by, you have an insider contact,” Ginny offered, and Harry loved the implication of something, even something as simple as an 'insider contact’, between just the two of them. “I’d be happy to arrange a meeting, especially for such esteemed patrons.”

“I might take you up on that, if I ever planned on seeing them again,” Harry said. The words came out a bit more harshly than he’d expected, and the second silence in their talk set in, brought on by the darker implications of his family situation. Desperate to break it, Harry cleared his throat and geared up to talk again: “So, do you have any tattoos?”

He was relieved to see the smile, that coy, almost lopsided smile, appear on Ginny’s face again. “Actually, no, not a single one.”

“Do you think you’d ever get one?”

Ginny thought for a second. “I might, if something meaningful enough came around. And only if I was 200% sure. But really, I feel like one tattoo would lead to another, and then I’d never stop and run out of room on my skin. So it’s more of a containment mechanism, really.”

Harry smirked. “Hm. Interesting.”

Ginny broke out onto a full grin as she watched him. “What?” she asked, but when Harry’s smirk only deepened, she shoved him playfully, her touch on his shoulders eliciting the same warm sensation as the handshake. “What, Potter, tell me! Why is it interesting?”

“I mean, since you work at a tattoo shop, and you’re wearing a Hole t-shirt, I just thought you might be the type—”

“The Hole tee? Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna gatekeep it, like you’re the type of guy who’d be like 'name three songs'—”

“No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I don’t know a lot of music by Hole. I really only know who they are because of that one Fall Out Boy song Courtney Love was featured in—”

Ginny winced. “Not Fall Out Boy, please.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Fall Out Boy?”

“Harry—”

“I know they get a lot of shit, but really, their first albums are pretty good—”

“Harry, you’ve gotta stop right here, or you’re going to make me stop finding you so attractive.”

And just like that, there it was, out in the open. Harry felt stun: he felt his mouth open to offer a witty retort, but no words came out. Because the girlish grin had evaporated from Ginny’s face and turned into a different, more mature look, her eyes smoldering slightly and her mouth slightly pouted.

“What about you?” she asked, her words slower, as if she was choosing each one individually. “If the soccer team gossip is true, I know you have five tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice having dropped as well. “Yeah, there were a few tat shops around my neighborhood where the rules were pretty lax.”

“What are they?” Ginny asked.

“The tattoos? Well, the first ones I ever got were my mom and dad’s birth and death dates, on my wrist,” Harry said, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to display two small lines of numbers, in plain black ink, on his forearm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny said softly.

“Don’t be, I was really small when it happened. But I still wanted to pay them homage. Anyway, I’ll not bore you with my family history right now.”

“But tell me sometime?”

Harry was ecstatic at the implication that Ginny wanted to spend even more time with him. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at her. “Yeah, I will.” He moved on to the second tattoo, shifting the other sleeve up a bit to show Ginny a small black paw print in the center of his wrist. “This was my third one. My godfather was the only person my aunt and uncle would let me see while I was growing up, and even then only because he threatened them. And he had this huge, black shaggy dog, I think it was a Newfoundland, that looked almost like a bear, named Padfoot. I loved that dog, and every time I think of the happiest moments growing up, Padfoot’s in a lot of them. So when he died when I was sixteen, I got this to remember him by. It seems like a tribute to my godfather, too, so I like it doubly.”

He didn’t need encouragement from Ginny to keep going. He raised his left leg and propped it up on the washing machine by where Ginny’s legs hung, rolling his sock down a bit to show a green, line-art tuft of grass snaking above his ankle. “I got this when I got the soccer scholarship to come here. I wanted something to commemorate soccer, seeing as it’s not only, y'know, my passion, but also what got me out of that damn house for good. But I thought something like a soccer ball or a net or even the pitch outline would be too cheesy, so I got a bit of grass, y'know, as in the field…”

“Tasteful,” Ginny nodded her approval, and Harry felt newfound appreciation for that tattoo. “That’s three down, Potter.”

“I’m getting there.” Harry brought his leg down from the washer and turned his back to Ginny, taking his hand up to the nape of his neck and using it to shift the hair there upward to reveal the back of his neck where it turned into his back. “Can you see it?”

“The little lightning bolt?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the story of that?”

“That was my second one. To be honest, I was a little ink-happy after my first one, so a couple of weeks after I got it I went back and got this.”

“But why a lightning bolt?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, turning back around to face her. “I guess it was just cool.”

“Oh, very,” Ginny said, and the edge in her voice let him know she was teasing him. “That leaves us with one, then. The emblematic chest tattoo.” Again, the playfulness disappeared from her face and was replaced by that strange look, the one Harry couldn’t really decipher but really, really liked. “Tell me, then, Harry— is Romilda Vane right?”

It was only because of the suggestiveness in Ginny’s voice and the permanence of that look on her face that Harry did what he did next. His movements slow, he pulled his shirt off over his head, setting it on the washing machine right by where Ginny sat. He heard Ginny draw in a breath and it hitch in her throat as she saw him, her eyes moving over his bare skin to spot the ink blot that had brought this all on. Curled above his right pec was a small, S-shaped dragon, colored in red and gold.

“I win,” Ginny said, her voice still husky, as she extended her left hand to touch the dragon with her fingertips.

“Are you going to tell Romilda?” Harry said, his own right hand settling lightly on Ginny’s thigh.

“No, actually,” Ginny said, her palm now coming down flat on Harry’s chest. Her other hand had also drifted to him, and she had placed it on Harry’s left side, right below his ribcage, as if to hold the side of his torso. “I think I’d rather keep this moment to myself.”

And then she was leaning in and kissing him, touching her lips to his first with tentative softness that turned into a stronger, more determined fire as the kiss deepened. With both of Ginny’s hands on Harry, and one of Harry’s on Ginny’s thigh and the other supporting the weight of the kiss against the solidity of the washer, they leaned into one another. Harry’s mouth sought out Ginny’s eagerly, overcome by the fiery feeling pooling in his stomach and rising up to his throat through his chest, by the fact that everything he’d thought about on their walk back from Lovegood’s was coming true much sooner (and much better) than he’d expected. He felt Ginny’s tongue nudge at his lips and opened his mouth to let her in, engulfing more of her lips with his as he did so. Ginny kissed passionately, her tongue meeting Harry’s even as her teeth dug lightly into Harry’s lower lip, making him kiss her more deeply. With her this close, he was invaded by the flowery smell of her hair, by the soft feel of her skin, by the low humming sound she made as she kissed him. And everything was coming together, making the fire in his chest grow, and it was a good kind of burn, better than whiskey, better than anything—

The loud ding of the washer as it announced it had concluded its cycle startled them, and they pulled back from the kiss looking a little dazed, that one upbeat chime having been all they needed to bring them reluctantly back into the real world. Still Ginny didn’t take her hands off Harry, and Harry felt less than inclined to move his from her leg.

“I should, uh, switch to the dryer,” he said, the only thing that popped into his mind there.

Ginny tightened her hold around his middle and moved her hand from his chest, wrapping it around his upper back to draw him closer. “Oh, let it wait,” she said, and then she was kissing him again, and Harry was finding that the dryer could wait for hell to freeze for all he cared.

The sleepy sound of the chimes above the door didn’t even make Ginny raise her gaze from her stats study guide, which she’d pulled out to make the best of the not-too-busy lull at Lovegood’s. “We’re almost closed,” she announced to whoever had come in.

“You can’t make room for one last customer?” a familiar voice said, and only then did Ginny perk up immediately.

“Harry!” she said brightly, shutting the stats book as it became all-but-forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to add one more tattoo to the five I’ve already got,” said Harry. “Think you can give me my sixth?”

Ginny didn’t even need to say yes, just opened up the lift-up counter door and disappeared through the beaded curtain. “Flip the door sign to 'closed’ before you come through, will you?”

Harry obliged and flipped the sign before following Ginny to the backroom. He sat patiently on the tattoo chair as Ginny milled about, getting the supplies ready.

“Y'know, you never did tell me the story behind your dragon tattoo,” Ginny commented as she went through the sterilization procedure for the needles. “Seeing as we were, um, otherwise occupied…”

The memory of the kiss flooded through Harry with the same fire that he’d held in his chest ever since, the flame growing to engulf his whole body just hearing Ginny mention it. “Should I tell you now?”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“I got it as a tribute to my old headmaster back home, Albus Dumbledore. Funny old man, and incredibly cryptic, but he’s the one that first gave me the idea of applying for the scholarship and helped me get all my grades and papers in order so I could make it here. We were very close, and he had this saying that he used to tell me whenever I ended up in his office for getting into trouble— 'never tickle a sleeping dragon’, he’d say.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Harry laughed briefly and shrugged. “Hell if I know. But it was his catchphrase. So after I graduated, I wanted to get something to commemorate him, so I got the dragon from his favorite saying. He came with me and got it too.”

Ginny turned to him and eyed him quizzically. “Your headmaster got the tattoo along with you?”

“I told you he was a funny old man.”

Ginny pulled a pair of black latex gloves over her hands and rolled a wheeled office chair over to Harry, the needle in hand. “So by what I’m hearing, you only ever get tattoos of things that are extremely meaningful to you, right?”

“That’s right,” said Harry.

“So, Mr. Meaning, what’ll it be this time?”

Harry smiled. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it slightly upward, just enough to uncover his lower trunk. He pointed to a spot on the left side of his torso, right under his ribcage— right where Ginny’s hand had been, where her touch had been burned into his skin. “Right here,” he said. “I’d like a little washing machine.”

[janetbrown711]

"how do you think this ends?"

Despite Lena’s hopes and dreams that when the morning came everything would feel as right in the world as it had when the little family had fallen asleep, it wasn’t true. When she awoke (for whatever reason, she was the first), she walked out of the room and was immediately surrounded by maids and servants pestering her with their endless questions. Of course, she knew why they were asking, she was supposed to be dead.

She did her best to explain the situation and told them that her mother had died in an avalanche at Acme Falls. This, however, made the situation worse, as then officials and advisors soon got word and started to try and plan things out with her, and Lena wanted none of it. It was early- hell, she was still in her nightgown and robe. She just wanted to take an early stroll around her home, but nope.

Then again, what did she expect? Come back from the dead and people are going to have questions.

Still. Being swarmed with questions and having plans and ideas thrown in her face that early was too much. She yearned to return to bed, but by the time she successfully convinced them to stop, it was likely too late.

So instead, she went to the kitchen and began to chop up some fruit, a skill she had gotten quite good at over the past year. She couldn’t do a lot, so she liked to help Helloise and Doctor Scratchnsniff prepare food, usually while they talked about things. Now all Lena could think of as she chopped was that of her offer.

She had written a letter last night asking for their assistance. In all honesty, she was ashamed. She thought returning home would do a lot to heal everything they went through over the past year, but Dot’s nightmare quickly told her otherwise. Because of her nativity, she had to write a letter offering and asking them to come to the palace to be the royal psychologist and counselor not just for Dot, but likely Wakko and perhaps even Yakko too. Goodness knows all of her kids must’ve been through hell under the care of her mother.

Lena paused and placed a hand on her cheek. She sighed.

Lena continued cutting fruit.

She hoped they were hungry- she was making a lot- goodness.

Well- she knew Wakko would be anyway. Her poor boy... he was so light to carry. Angelina must’ve locked him in the tower before the Wishing Star, and probably didn’t feed him.

Her mother deserved far, far worse than death.

But it was what needed to be done. She didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hopefully, they’d use all this food for the picnic they’d be having-

It was still winter. Snow was outside. They couldn’t have a picnic.

No. They’d just have one inside. It’s what Wakko wanted- who was she to take that away from him?

She continued to cut, despite realizing she lost count of how many kiwis, strawberries, and star fruit she had sliced by now.

“Mom?” Wakko came out of nowhere, startling Lena and she cut her finger.

“Gah- Jesus Wakko, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” She quickly began to suck on it and look for a towel.

Wakko froze, dead in his tracks.

“I-i’m sorry, I-i didn’t mean to- I-i-” He stumbled over his apology.

“It’s alright, Wakko, I’m not-” But by the time Lena said that, he had run out of the kitchen.

“Dammit, Lena, now look at what you’ve done,” She muttered to herself, wrapping a rag around her finger and running off to go find Wakko.

Day one and she was already screwing up.

“Wakko? Where are you?” She called, looking under hall decor, behind curtains, and in almost every room she walked by.  

“Wakko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that,” She said, hearing sniffles come out of one bedroom. Lena knocked on the door softly.

“Wakko?” She said.

“I-i said I’m sorry, go away!” He shouted back.

“Wakko, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, it was I who snapped at you,” She placed her hand that didn’t have a towel around it against the door.

“Go away! I only get people hurt,” He cried more.

“Wakko honey, no,” Lena wanted to go in, but the door was locked.

“Wakko, whatever your grandmother told you, she was wrong. You’re such a wonderful kid- energetic, compassionate, brave, and you give the best hugs,” She countered his statement. The prince paused.

“B-but it’s my fault D-dot died... they were aiming for me,” He countered, his words becoming mumbled.

“Wakko, it’s nobody’s fault but your grandmother and she’s already paid the price,” She said.

“She can’t hurt you anymore... so please... come out? I promise I’m okay.”

Wakko was quiet. Lena bit her lip.

“If you come out you can have a snack in the kitchen,” She said. Wakko must’ve responded positively to that because before she knew it there were shuffling noises, and he opened the door, though unable to make eye contact with his mother.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“I know honey, let’s get you some food and water- I bet you’re dehydrated too, especially after all that crying,” Lena said, offering her hand. Wakko took it.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Lena gave his hand a comforting squeeze as they made their way back. Once there, she lifted him on the counter and started slicing more fruit, everything from apples to bananas, and handing them to him once finished. He ate slowly, but it seemed to be doing him a lot of good, as his mood increased dramatically once he got some food in his system.

“You feeling better?” She asked him. Wakko nodded. “Good,” Lena smiled and ruffled his fur a little. Lena always found it funny how he often liked to sleep with his red hat on, but who was she to judge.

“Now honey, I want to make things very clear with you: everything your grandmother ever told you or made you feel is false okay? I don’t want you saying it, I don’t want you thinking it.  You are so much more than she ever thought, understood?” She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking his face with her thumb. Wakko leaned into it, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. Lena smiled softly.

“It’s not gonna be easy to undo what she’s done... but we’re going to figure it out together, understood?” She said. Wakko nodded again, eating an apple slice.

“I haven’t told your siblings yet, but in roughly a week's time, the good doctor from Acme Falls is going to start working at the palace to help you three heal from the abuse my mother put you through. He’s an emotions doctor and he’ll help you feel better, does that sound like something you want?” She said, going back to cutting fruit.

“Okay,” Wakko nodded, his tail twitching curiously. “What about you?” he asked.

Lena paused. “What about me?”

“Will he be helping you?” Wakko asked innocently. Lena looked down at her hands, then at the 20 or so fruits she sliced this morning.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot more responsibilities than what I’m used to in the upcoming days- I’ll likely be too busy.”

“But you should be okay too,” Wakko frowned, reminding Lena of how observant he could be.

“I’ll be okay Wakko- I promise,” She looked at him. He scanned her face a minute before either believing it or just dropping it and going back to his apple slices.

After a moment of more slicing and handing to Wakko, Lena spoke again.

“We’re going to be having a picnic today, just like you wanted,” She said. Wakko’s face lit up.

“Really?! Isn’t it snowy?” Wakko tilted his head.  

“We’ll be having it inside, but I think that hardly makes a difference. What do you think?” Lena asked him.

“Okay,” he gave a toothy grin.

“Good,” Lena nodded. “How about you go and get dressed and get your siblings ready so we can do that soon, hm?”

“Okay,” He said, jumping off the countertop, and scurrying out of the kitchen.

Good. At least he was somewhat back to his old self. That meant there was hope after all. He was still a kid- he deserved to be happy and young while he could.

With a sigh, Lena began to get bags out and put the sliced fruit into separate bags as kitchen workers started to come in and began preparing their breakfast. Once Lena finished, she quickly apologized and got out of their way, explaining what was going to happen later with the picnic and all. They understood, and she left.

Now she was on her own again. And still in her nightgown- Lena really needed to get changed. Quickly she went back to her room and went to her closet to get dressed but her fingers hovered over her dresses. It had been so long since she wore something so fancy... Would it even feel right anymore?

Of course it would, she was born a princess, she was just being ridiculous... right?

Lena sighed and changed into her usual purple dress.

Today was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

And interesting it was. Home for less than 24 hours and already advisors and courtiers were already throwing piles upon piles of papers onto the poor queen-to-be. After signing about fifty billion documents, she finally got them to leave her alone, stating she made plans with her family she fully intended to keep. Thankfully, since she was in charge, nobody argued otherwise, though she knew they were likely doubtful. She did her best not to dwell.

By the time she did finally join her family in the room they were having their picnic, Wakko and Dot were already finished with their food and running around chasing each other, nearly running into Lena as she stepped in, though they both paused to give her a hug before running off again.

“My, they’re energetic today,” Lena chuckled as she joined her husband and Yakko on the pillows.

“Last night was probably the best sleep they’ve gotten in a while, nightmare or not,” Yakko shrugged, eating a piece of bread.

“I don’t doubt that... I slept pretty well last night too,” William said mostly to himself, looking at Wakko and Dot fondly.

“It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” Lena looked at Yakko, sadness in her eyes. “We’ve missed so much...”

“Not a whole lot... I mean- there were birthdays and stuff, but not... well...” Yakko was reluctant to finish the sentence, but Lena understood perfectly.

“Not much good, no?” Lena sighed. “I’ll never forgive her for this... for any of this.”

William and Yakko nodded supportively.

“But... Dot’s birthday was nice. I even managed to sneak a cake, and we all had a big sleepover, which was fun,” Yakko said. Lena smiled a little.

“That sounds lovely,” She said, sipping some tea.

“It was,” Yakko smiled at the memory.

“Oh! And we continued teaching Wakko to read,” Yakko remembered to tell.

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy Yakko,” Lena side hugged him.

“We were so worried that Angelina wouldn’t let him and he’d forget,” William admitted.

“We had to do it behind her back, but I definitely think we made progress,” Yakko smiled, proud of himself, and rightfully so.

“I’m absolutely thrilled to hear it. You did a very good job taking care of your siblings in our absence Yakko, I’m very proud of you,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Yakko teared up a little, and he quickly wiped it away. Lena didn’t comment, smiling softly.  

“I’ll never forgive her for this.” The thought repeated in her mind. Anger returned.

“So, what took you so long?” Yakko asked.

“Paperwork. I’ve a coronation to set up by the end of the week after all,” She tried to laugh at the dread facing her.

“What about Grandma’s funeral?” Yakko asked.

“She isn’t going to be getting a funeral,” Lena said.

William blinked. “Are you sure that’s best?”

“Doesn’t every royal get a funeral? I mean- she even held one for you two...” Yakko said quietly.

“It’s unprecedented yes, and will perhaps even look bad to the people. However, once we explain everything that happened, I’m sure the people will be more than happy and most importantly on our side,” Lena sipped her tea.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yakko shrugged a little. William sighed.

“Lena darling, I know it must be difficult, but she was the queen after all-”

“She committed treason on the highest offense, William.” Lena snapped.

“I know, but well- hasn’t she already paid the price?” He said in a hushed tone, even though Yakko was still right there.

“It’s not that I think she deserves one, Lena. I’m just concerned that the people won’t understand and that it’ll cause them to turn against you,” He clarified softly, touching her arm. Lena swiped it away.

“I know full well what I’ve done,” She stated sharply. “And I don’t regret it. Let the people be upset if they will, they’ll get over it.”

Wakko and Dot stopped running by then, now looking at their parents, confused.

“Lena, darling, perhaps we should take this outside,” William sighed. Lena looked at her children before sighing and nodding.

“We’ll be back shortly... carry on until we get back,” Lena said, placing a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before standing up and going. William followed in suit.

William stood by the door a moment, making sure they weren’t listening in. Lena paced across the hall, holding her arms.

“Well?” Lena asked him.

“Well, what?” William questioned her harshness.

“Well, what’ve you to say? You asked us to leave the room and we’ve left, so what’ve you to say?” She asked, digging her fingers into her arms.

“Lena darling... I just thought perhaps it wasn’t best to discuss such matters in front of the children,” William said softly. That didn’t make Lena feel any better.

“William, I’m tired of pretending I care about her,” Lena looked out a window. “I don’t want to waste a year of my life wearing all black and veiling myself pretending to weep over what I’ve lost. I can’t even fathom pretending to care a day,” She admitted.

“Of course,” He nodded slowly. The queen-to-be glanced at him.

“You aren’t going to argue otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Lena darling, I love you with all that I am. I trust your judgment. I’m simply trying to look out for you, that’s all,” William went to her.

“I love you too William,” She said. “I just... I know what I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

“My dear... you keep saying that,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“It remains true,” Lena took a step away.

“Lena, who are you trying to convince?” He asked honestly.

“I... nobody,” She said quickly.

“Lena-”

“Nobody, William,” She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

She didn’t regret it. Her mother had to die, and by her hand.

There was no other way.

“There was no other way,” She said aloud.

“My love, you’re trembling,” William worried.

“She didn’t love me. She never did- even as a child. She shouted, she pulled the flowers out of my hair, she grabbed me, she blamed me for Father’s death, she... she hurt Wakko, she locked him up like some animal and then she... she killed Dot. She had to die, William,” She still didn’t look at him.

“I know darling...” He approached her slowly.

“A-and even if she had loved me at one point... if she brushed my hair, or sat with me in portraits, or picked out a dress she saw me admiring, it doesn’t matter. She killed our baby girl... she had to die,” Lena looked him in the eyes, though the sympathy was almost too much for her.

“My love, I know... What you did was incredibly difficult,” William said, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“Why though? Why was it difficult? After all that she did to our children, it should’ve been easy,” Lena argued.

“Lena, I do not know,” He sighed, stroking her face with his hand softly. “I’m not a psychologist or anything of the like... but I assume it’s because- well... she was your mother.”

“Hardly...” Lena muttered to herself.

“Despite everything, she still was. You can’t deny that,” He said. “And despite everything, you’ve always been slow to retaliation, so of course it’s taking a while to process what you’ve done.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a psychologist,” Lena joked a little. William chuckled a little.

“I’m not dear... though perhaps you really should take up Scratchnsniff’s offer,” William said.

“I wrote for him last night. He’ll do the children lots of good,” She said.

“That’s not what I meant,” William gave her a look.

Lena paused, sincerely thinking about it.

“I’ll be woefully busy... I’ll hardly have the time,” Lena said.

“We’ll make the time,” He countered.

“William- I just... I don’t know...” She turned away.

“Lena... please? I worry about you,” William held one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Lena said nothing.

“My dear, you deserve to be at peace. Ever since I met you you were burdened by your mother’s actions, and now that she’s gone, you can finally find peace,” He said with a small smile. She could hardly look at him now.

She was an adult. Almost queen. She should be able to handle this on her own.

“If not for yourself, then can you at least do it for them? For...me?” He pleaded quietly.

Lena looked at the door a long moment, practically seeing her children leaning up against it (which she knew they likely were).

“William I don’t know if I can find peace...” She whispered.

“Can’t we at least give it a try, my love?” He whispered back. She looked at him. His eyes... those warm, dark, familiar eyes had brought her so much love and comfort over the years. So much love and worry...

Lena knew she’d do anything for him.

“I can try,” She nodded slowly.

“Really?” He smiled a little. 

“I’d walk through hell and back for you, my love,” Lena placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll be able to believe in myself a little for you too.”

“Thank you,” He kissed her wrist before pulling her in for an actual kiss, which she gladly returned.  

However, the kiss didn’t last too long before a chorus of voices behind the door grew louder and before they knew it, the door opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spilling out with it. 

“Darn it Dot- you got us caught,” Yakko shook his head.

“Haha... hi,” Dot sheeped. Lena rolled her eyes. 

“Mind telling me why you were listening in to what was supposed to be a private, adult conversation?” She teased, helping them up and off each other.

“Uh... curiosity?” Wakko shrugged. Lena laughed. 

“Can’t deny that I suppose,” She ruffled his fur. Wakko smiled up at her with his tongue sticking out. She missed that smile. 

“Well... the day isn’t over yet... what do you three want to do?” She asked. 

“Can we hear a story?” Dot perked up and asked. 

“Yeah! A story!” Wakko agreed. Yakko snorted, giving his silent agreement.

“It’s nowhere near bedtime,” William said. “What are we going to do then?”

“We can handle two stories,” Dot rolled her eyes.  William chuckled. 

“That you can... that you can,” He said, stroking his mustache. 

“How about this: I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you’ll help me out with this one, hm?” He offered, winking at Lena to boast his cleverness. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay!” The younger warner siblings said in agreement. 

“But first we have to clean all this up- can’t be leaving everything out like this,” Lena remarked, going back into their picnic room. Quickly, the children ran in and began picking up any toys they had brought in, folding blankets, and putting back pillows where they belonged, while Lena and William dealt with the food. 

“Quite the plethora of fruit you prepared for us this morning,” Willaim commented as he cleaned. 

“I do it when I’m stressed,” She shrugged. “You know this- you were there.”

“I know,” he teased. “They were very good.” 

“I didn’t grow them,” Lena rolled her eyes, teasing him right back. 

“It’s our garden. I think we ought to have some claim,” He shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes again. 

“You say that like we don’t get most of our fruits from the farms-”

“Actually, we get our apples and citrus from the farms. The starfruit and berries were from the garden,” Yakko snuck up from behind, folding a blanket.

“Who’s side are you on?” Lena gave him a look. Yakko laughed. 

“Checkmate,” William grinned. 

“I hate you,” She snorted, putting the bread into a bag as Yakko disappeared to put the blanket away. 

“You love me,” William elbowed her lightly. Lena chuckled and continued to clean without comment. However, a thought slowly dawned on her and she paused. 

“Lena..?” William noticed. 

“Sorry, I’m just... thinking,” She shook her head and continued. 

“Thinking of what?” He asked. 

Lena thought about how best to say it. 

“I suppose... well... I don’t know. I just-... Do you really believe any of this will ever truly be over?” Lena asked him. 

William sighed. “I really hope so... it may not be today, or tomorrow, or even the day after, but in my heart I know one day we’ll finally be truly happy and free from her and her effects.”

“What do you think it’ll be like when that comes?” She asked him. William smiled. 

“Well... I imagine there’ll be dancing under a sky full of stars. Music playing softly in the other room, while we just have all the time in the world to ourselves, knowing Yakko, Wakko and Dot are safely tucked to sleep- or even if they aren’t we know they’re safe. They know they’re loved, we know we’re loved, you know you’re loved,” He said, a far-off look on his face indicating he had given this thought before. Lena smiled. 

“Dancing under the stars... I’ve missed that,” She agreed with him. 

“Perhaps we’ll even go to the garden. We’ll sit on our bench by the fountain where I first proposed to you and we’ll just sit and reflect on the good times we shared, and the good times yet to come. It won’t be the end, after all. There’ll still be a lifetime ahead of us,” He said. Lena closed her eyes, envisioning it. 

“That sounds lovely,” She smiled and opened her eyes. 

“One day,” He said with a wink. 

“We’re doneeee, can you tell us the story now?” Dot ran up to them, grabbing William’s leg. He laughed. 

“Alright, c’mon,” He said, peeling Dot from his leg and picking her up instead. Wakko went to Lena and held her hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, not that either was nervous. Yakko walked on her other side. 

Together, the family all went back to the familiar playroom and settled in for storytime with Dad. 

Effortlessly he weaved a tale about a beautiful princess, a handsome knight, and a fearsome dragon. Had it been done before? Of course, but it was the audience’s choice and they missed the cliché. He spoke of everlasting love, the princess and the knight saving each other numerous times, and eventually how they lived happily ever after and created a land of prosperity, peace, and love- unlike the age of the Dragon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his inspiration for such a tale, but it was interesting and exciting nonetheless. 

After that, Lena and William played with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot with their dolls, playing a game similar to the story, but with its own twists (like the Princess being fire breathing and could transform into a giant lion and the knight was secretly the God of Thunder) until it was eventually time for diner. 

After that, William read them a bedtime story, this time of a lonely siren and a sailor who nearly drowned, which captivated Wakko and Dot easily, though Yakko was tired, and barely awake by the end. Then, they checked for monsters for Dot (a new concern of hers), after which Lena sang them their lullaby and they all went to sleep. 

And so several days passed in such a way. Lena would spend her mornings over paperwork and giving signatures and statements and writing to other kingdoms in preparation for her coordination while William watched the kids, and in the afternoon she’d join them for lunch and for some quality family time until it was eventually time to sleep and the cycle would start over. As much as she hated the paperwork portion of her days, she couldn’t deny the quality time made up for it. Seeing her children slowly regain their spirit filled her with more happiness than she could ever describe, especially with the help of Doctor Scratchnsniff. 

Ah, yes. Doctor Scratchnsniff. At first, the children were hesitant to meet with him, but after Lena and William offered to sit in with them for their appointments (for the first one, at least) they agreed. 

Dot seemed to be liking him, though she found him and his accent strange at first. However, the doctor reported she was already off to a good start and even after meeting twice he said she was making good progress. That was good to hear at least. The sooner her PTSD was gone, the better. 

It was evident Yakko liked him less so, but Lena and William weren’t surprised by that. His issues were with being fiercely independent and untrusting so naturally, it was going to take a while for him to open up, which they were okay with. They had all the time in the world now. 

Wakko, however, never wanted to be alone with him. He always had Lena sit with him through his appointments, either clinging to her arm, or sitting in her lap the whole time as she stroked his ears or rubbed his back soothingly. He hardly spoke a word at first, which was expected, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. Hopefully, progress would be made with time.

Lena eventually found time to make an appointment of her own. It felt... odd, to say the least. She was used to the loving and kind support from William, but opening up to Scratchy was a different feeling entirely. She didn’t have to fear what he thought, as he was trained to listen and help. She liked that. 

What she liked less was reflecting on her childhood. So many feelings and emotions and twisted memories she didn’t know how to look back on. He said this was natural for victims of childhood neglect and abuse, and she couldn’t deny that. 

However, she was processing now. Moving on, as he described it. Acknowledging what happened was the first step, moving on was the next. It was... interesting. Then again, these were only the beginning steps. She still had lots and lots of work to do, but she had all the time in the world. 

The days passed in such a sequence, that the day of her coordination threw her off guard. Heck- she had hardly noticed that when she had awakened, maids and dressers were immediately there to get her in the gorgeous cerulean blue, and gold dress they had made for her. It wasn’t until they were trying to comb through her hair she realized the day was special. Sure- she wasn’t normally dressed by handmaidens, but in all fairness, she had just woken up. 

Oh god- it was finally happening. Important guests from kingdoms all over were going to arrive to watch her rise to the throne and accept her fate and destiny as the next queen of Warnerstock. 

Hell- it felt like Lena blinked and suddenly she was waiting for the doors to open so she could walk down and accept the crown and say the lines and well- get coronated as Queen. She was wearing the nicest gown she’d ever worn in her life, and her ears were unbound, as she was no longer wearing her princess crown anymore. 

“You ready Mom?” Yakko asked, adjusting his fancy little outfit. Lena thought he as well as the rest of the kids looked adorable, though it was clear he was rather uncomfortable with the lapels and sash. Still- that didn’t stop Lena from wishing she could get a portrait of him done. 

“Hopefully,” Lena laughed through her nervousness. 

“You’ll be great, I know it,” Wakko grinned up at her. Lena smiled at him, before noticing his sash was on the wrong shoulder and she fixed it. 

“Yeah! You’re super nice and pretty and you’ll be a great queen,” Dot encouraged. 

“You’re too sweet, darling,” She thanked her before standing. 

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my love,” William placed his hands on her shoulders. “We have your back, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m the luckiest queen-to-be in the world,” Lena chuckled. 

“Yep!” Wakko agreed. 

“Your highness? They’re ready for you,” said one of the officials. Lena took in a deep breath and nodded. 

“Well... let’s go,” She gave them a nod. Her family gave her quick grins and thumbs up, before the door opened, and the ceremony officially began. 

The ceremony went perfectly as planned. Not a word nor person was out of place. She recited the vow of protection and service perfectly, didn’t flinch when the cold metal of her new crown touched her head, and even managed not to flinch at the mention of her full name (though she could still feel the internal dread of it). She recited her speech to the people perfectly, gaining their understanding and support with her carefully crafted yet heartfelt words, and eventually, the ceremonies were over and the festivities began. 

Quickly, the children ran into the outdoor courtyard with many of the other royal children from nearby kingdoms, and music began to play. However, this wasn’t the stuffy, snooty music her mother would’ve chosen for her coordination, no. This was Lena, and she chose something exciting. A new beginning. Songs that make you kick off your shoes (if you wore those) and dance in circles until you pass out from exhaustion you didn’t know you had because you were too busy being swept away by the fun of it all. Lena danced with her new subjects and partners in foreign policy all day, and even a bit of the night as the sun eventually went down, only stopping when the feast began, or the band needed a break, but then returning right away. 

She hadn’t felt this alive in years, and Lena was determined to never let it go. This was what freedom was. This was what life without her mother’s control could be, every day. People laughing, cheering, celebrating, being together and safe and happy. 

People were happy. 

Lena was happy. 

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were happy too, even mingling with children from neighboring kingdoms, with Yakko even finding himself fascinated with a certain dog prince that she and William gave a quick thumbs up to, embarrassing him deeply. Eh, he’d get over it. They were back, and that meant embarrassing him to his crushes- even if he just met them that night. 

Wakko and Dot were having fun dancing, and drawing chalk on the ground. Wakko proved himself to be quite the artist, as while he danced he dragged and drew with his tail, and before anyone knew it the whole floor was a Wakko art piece. Sure, it may have stained their feet, but it was truly something to behold. Dot, on the other hand, was chatting with other princesses and citizens, charming them with her classic wit and cuteness that made Lena proud. 

And William? For the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed to be enjoying himself too, the worry that was constantly behind those deep, dark eyes she loved so dearly being practically gone. Instead, joy and excitement, as well as love was shining back, as he spun and lifted and danced alongside her to the exciting music of the band. The couple had never felt so alive and free. 

Eventually, though, all good things come to an end, and guests slowly began to leave, saying their quick goodbyes to the new Queen, wishing her luck, and promising their loyalties and hopes for the future. It saddened to see things coming to an end, but eventually, the band began to play much slower, softer music, and William took her hand in his and they slowly began to sway under the starlight. 

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” William smirked. 

“I know, you’re always right, blah blah blah,” Lena snickered. 

William laughed. “I’m serious though, I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve come a very long way for it being less than a month since returning.”

“And here I thought it was already a year,” Lena joked, referring more to the neverending piles of paperwork she managed to go through in such a short time than her time with her loved ones. 

“Lena, I mean it. I’m incredibly proud of you,” William made sure she knew it. 

“Thank you, dear,” Lena kissed him. “I couldn’t have done this- any of this without you.”

“I know,” He said with a small smile. Lena snorted a little, before stepping closer and leaning against him as they swayed together. 

“How’s this for a perfect ending, hm?” he asked. 

Lena thought about that, looking around the more than half-empty courtyard.

Wakko was curled up into a ball on a pile of pillows nearby a firepit, looking perfectly warn out and warm. Dot was drawing with chalk next to him, looking half asleep as well. Yakko was telling a story to his new friend, though it was very clear that friend was going to have to leave soon, but whoever was in charge of the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to break the two up, which Lena couldn’t say she blamed them for. They were cute. Kids- but cute. 

Then she looked back at William. The love of her life. The man who never once left her side and carried her through the worst moments of their lives, and somehow made it out alive. She kissed him again. 

“It’s not completely perfect... but it’s a damn good start,” Lena smiled.

“A damn good start indeed,” William grinned. 

And it was a damn good start. After all, Queen Angelina  Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second was married to Sir William the Good, and had three beautiful children she loved more than anything in the world. Her mother was dead, and couldn’t hurt any of them anymore. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more abuse. 

Together, the Warners were entering a new era; an era of peace, of love, of great healing, and great togetherness. After all- the old queen was dead, proving once and for all that nothing could or ever would keep them apart for long. 

They were together now, and together the Warner Family was unstoppable.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 The End 

[radiosandrecordings]

Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!

“Ahaha, I’ll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!” I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting

CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.

Ao3 version too 

They’d probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable. 

It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.

And wasn’t that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasn’t quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario. 

The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The “Where are we” and the “How long were we asleep?” and the “Is it finally safe to rest?” and the “I love you so, so much.” 

Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martin’s stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time they’d felt mundane hunger? 

“Do you think they even have food here?” Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet. 

“Perhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.” 

“Yeah, but Annabelle though,” Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. “What if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and it’s just… Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. There’s one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.” 

Jon winces. “I’d really rather not picture that right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, course,” Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. “Should probably go check though. Don’t exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though I’d happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Don’t think I’ve slept that well in… Ever.” 

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I’m quite peckish as well… Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.” Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. “Probably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.” 

“You want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?” Martin asks, prying the duvet away like he’s pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they can’t just stay in bed all day. He hadn’t been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.

“I think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so I’d rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.” Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound… His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower. 

When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. It’s a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood. 

“You want to go first then?” Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again. 

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.” 

Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes. 

Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in… However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin he’d be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesn’t want to close the door. He doesn’t want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now. 

“... Jon? You okay?”

Jon realises he’s been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words. 

Martin shifts, sitting back up again. “Jon, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It comes out like a croak. “I- I don’t Know.”

Martin’s tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jon’s direction. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t Know,” he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. He’s gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that he’d watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know he’s there. 

Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. “And- And that should be a good thing. It should. I don’t want to Know. But it’s… I’ve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels… It’s raw and it’s vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and I’m vulnerable and that means you are too. If I’m in another room, I can’t Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I can’t save you.”

The right wrapped around to hold Jon’s left hip, Martin’s free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels. 

“Jon,” he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didn’t even consider how it would feel for you. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, because… Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.” He brushes Jon’s fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “Tub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?” 

Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively… Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of… Intimacy. 

Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. “I’m sorry, if that’s too much, we can just-”

“No,” Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. “No, I… I would like that. That sounds nice.”

He knows it’s from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you really don’t seem up for that. If that’s not in your… Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.” 

“I’m just a little shaken, is all,” Jon says, but he knows there’s a truth to Martin’s words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, they’d had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martin’s side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isn’t what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but there’s still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn. 

It’s not that he was bashful about it. He’d seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed… No, that wouldn’t be happening. 

“I- Can I make one request, though?” Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martin’s. 

“Anything,” Martin replies, no hesitation to be found. 

Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. “Can- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-” 

“No, no that’s okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,” Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it. 

They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.

Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner. 

“Find something you like?” Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface. 

When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jon’s of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?

Martin cleared his throat. “Do you mind, then, if I…?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.” 

Martin pulled his shirt over his head. 

It’s not that Jon didn’t find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didn’t change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him. 

He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, he’s fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he hadn’t trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief. 

“Shall we?” Martin asks, gesturing towards the water. 

“Let’s,” Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water. 

He’s just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. There’s not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jon’s just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martin’s hips. 

If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care for relief that it’s no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth he’s finding it hard not to fall asleep again. 

“This okay?” Martin asks, because he’s still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries. 

“Far more than okay,” he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except he’s wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadn’t quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake. 

They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo. 

“Here, let me,” Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. “If you want, that is. Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you want me to do your hair? It’s just- It’s probably easier, y’know, than you trying to do it yourself.” 

“And far more romantic,” Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martin’s freshly cleaned cheek. 

“That too. Do you want to turn around?” 

Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until he’s facing away from Martin. He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martin’s arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martin’s chest. It’s very intimate. It’s very nice. 

“That okay?” Martin asks again, and more than ‘I love you’, that’s a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff. 

When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jon’s scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martin’s chest, and it’s only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there. 

“I really hope that was a positive thing and you haven’t just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,” Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martin’s chest. 

“Still conscious, don’t worry. That’s just… Very nice.” 

“Oh! Well… Good.” 

This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jon’s hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martin’s hands. Even when Jon knows he’s long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.

Eventually, both of Martin’s hands come to rest against Jon’s torso. “This okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t mind any of the touching, as long as it’s… Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.” 

“Gotcha,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks. 

It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars. 

Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jon’s brain has gone a little fuzzy. He’s unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if he’s being honest, it’s working. No ulterior motive. This isn’t the lead up to anything. It just exists on it’s own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing. 

After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jon’s elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jon’s neck.

He’s perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve… This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.

Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martin’s chin. Martin’s knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Little Gems

Hi all ... it’s been awhile ... but i just can’t leave Mulder and Scully alone for long ...

Sorry about that ... the kid has a new baking business she’s running out of our kitchen (she’s 16, btw) ... we COVID-quarantine finished our basement ... I rewrote my entire third novel ... I’ve had things to do :)

Love and hug and enjoy ...

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Little Gems

It was the look that made her stumble on her words, stutter through two syllables, hesitate on the third before rallying to pull herself back to the courtroom. Face flaming hot in an instant, she hid her clenched fists below the wooden barrier and carried on, trooper that she was.

His look.

In the middle of her sentence, she’d looked at him, the quickest of glances to see his encouraging lip twitch or the barest of nods … instead, she’d gotten popping jaw muscle, flaring nostril, and furrowed brow. She’d done her stumble because, without thought to present day for half a second, she’d rewound the past two minutes in her head. What the hell had she done to deserve that pointedly angry look?

For the next 43 minutes, she steamed slowly while her demeanor revealed nothing, back to calm, cool, collected, cadence smooth, sentence structure sound. Finally free, she moved past Mulder, dodging the crowd in the hall and slipping through his fingers as he reached for her arm, elbow, to turn her, yell at her for not saying some theory or other of his that would have gotten the case thrown out but allowed Mulder the righteous indignation of his truth.

“Hang on.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

&&&&&&&&

Continuing through the crowd at a pace not meant for five o’clock on a Thursday afternoon near a Metro station, she didn’t care that he’d driven her there. She didn’t care that her ring of keys was in his pocket. She didn’t care that her stomach needed food, her brain needed a drink, her sweet tooth needed several dozen peanut M&Ms. She did care that she had approximately $10 in her pocket, which was more than enough to get her home and she had no room for anymore cares at the moment.

She always knew that house key tucked and forgotten behind her badge would come in handy.

She would be seeing his ass tomorrow and not a moment sooner.

Mulder, on the other hand, stood there watching her storm away. Not quite sure why she was so angry with herself over a few misspoken words but the set of her shoulders and the way she threw out the ‘see you tomorrow’ told him if he did indeed see or talk to her before tomorrow, he’d possibly and probably walk away with one less appendage, be it finger or more important things.

Watching her until she disappeared into the Metro Station, he noted it contained a Blue Line so, knowing she’d get home via either Foggy Bottom or Rosslyn station, he let her go, knowing she had a key behind her badge and her emergency cash behind that.

His mind wouldn’t let it go, however. She’d been good. Damn good. Until her stumble, which, for reasons unknown to him, had made her angry. She had hesitated on two words, taken a quarter second deeper inhale than usual before she gathered and continued. He highly doubted anyone but himself had noticed but given it was Scully, she probably imagined she’d screwed everything up completely.

He chewed on this as he returned to his car, unhurried because, regardless of if he ran or crawled, he’d still be stuck in some kind of traffic between here and there.

&&&&&&&&

Scully, for her part, hated the crowds in the Metro, disliked strangers pressed this close to her, shuffled together with the unwashed masses of society, tourist and native alike, all collectively tired from their day and frustrated same as she with the swaying train and the endless wait to put on comfortable clothing and take a deep breath.

And it afforded her time to analyze Mulder’s look.

Which is exactly what she did not need at this point in time.

&&&&&&&&&&

Both moved several times during the evening to pick up the phone, find out what the other was thinking but in the end, Mulder fell asleep on his couch, worried about her, and Scully fell asleep on hers, angry at him.

&&&&&&&&&&

He honestly thought the next day would be okay. She would have spent the evening picking apart her testimony and should have, logically, arrived at the conclusion that she’d done nothing to hinder anything. He would be telling her that today when she walked in, deciding at 5:42am, while shaving, that a little reassurance would be an appropriate thing.

She walked in still irritated but hiding it … not so very well ... but well enough to return his greeting and nod when he told her she’d done fine the day before and not to sweat the stumble.

Her mug got set no so gently down on the edge of the desk , tea splashing out the sides.

All right.

Plan B.

Waiting until she’d wiped up the carnage of her very own personal DC Tea Party, he handed her her keys from the day before, “come on. We’re taking the day off.”

With a sigh, “we can’t.”

“After your stellar week with Kersh and Skinner, you deserve diamonds and ice cream. Come on.”

Fuck it. It was Friday. Why not follow? God know, she could just as easily be irritated with him outside as she could be in the confines of the basement.

&&&&&&&&&

“Are you kidding?”

“When is the last time you touristed DC? I mean, like, looked around and went to stuff and stared at it and read the little signs and learned something from what you read on those little signs?”

Another sigh, “it’s been awhile.”

“Then come on.” They walked over to the Mall, then Mulder tuned them to the Museum of Natural History.

Seeing the building and the crowd, “Mulder, it’s going to be packed in there.”

“Not where we’re going.” Up the steps, weaving through throngs in shorts and gym shoes, flipflops and sunglasses, they stood out like a tandem sore thumb, leather heels and barely there hose, Trinity tie knot and tartan pattern socks.

They drew more than a few stares. Thank God he’d left his suit jack behind.

Once they’d dropped the donation fee and flashed badges for guns, he led her past the dinosaur bones and then up to the second floor. Even though she wasn’t exactly happy, she had to ask, “um, you realize you passed the T-Rex, right?”

“He’s not going anywhere, Scully. I’ll see him on the way out.”

She hadn’t been to the second floor since, well, she wasn’t even sure what was on the second floor or if she’d ever been there at all, to be honest. Mulder turned her when they got out of the elevator and before she knew it, she was in a quiet area, glass cases surround her, a few people milling but the majority still downstairs with the bones and fossils.

“There’s nothing like the gem room in the morning.”

She fell in love as she took her first good look around. Minerals and elements and crystals along the walls, lights dimmed in spots, a sign for the Hope Diamond beckoning. Looking up at him, “how long has this been here?”

He laughed, quietly of course, because the area felt akin to a church or other place where silence and low murmurs were preferred over screaming children and echoing chaos, “the building, since around 1910, but the contents,” pretending to do some heavy math, using all his fingers and some of hers just for fun, “longer than that.”

Her crank meter dropped like a rock but some remained, “one day I’ll find you funny.”

Taking her elbow and feeling happy she didn’t jerk away from him, he led her towards the wall, “first, I’m going to take you on a tour of the blue section.”

“Are we dispensing with scientific names today? Will it be the green shiny ones and the square yellow ones and the ones that look like table salt but will kill you instantly if you ever tried to put them on a piece of corn on the cob?”

“One day, I’ll find you funny as well.”

They wandered in somewhat comfortable silence, sharing the oft-comment of ‘this one’s pretty’, ‘this one’s three trillion years old’ …

“Three billion, Mulder.”

“Once you get above a couple million, it’s all just really damn old and doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Are you sure you passed your science classes in high school?”

“Cute girls helped me cheat.”

She didn’t doubt it.

&&&&&&&&

Round about an hour later, while looking intently at the diamonds, Scully finally had to ask, her anger drained away, an empty hole left behind waiting to be filled with some kind of explanation. Standing beside him, hand resting lightly on the edge of the case, she asked in a soft voice, “why did you get angry at me yesterday while I was on the stand?”

What?!

“What?!”

“Right before I humiliated myself by not being able to say the word ‘epiglotal’, I looked at you and you were pissed at me.”

What?!

“God, Scully, no. No. I wasn’t mad at you at all. You were doing great.” He was leaning into her at this point, the intensity radiating off him enough to send world leaders to their knees in fear and her cheeks to warm at his proximity, “I wasn’t mad at you at all, I swear.”

Still quiet, “then what were you mad about?”

Talking at the glass but catching her reflection beside him, he felt like an idiot but didn’t think this was the time to attempt a lie, “um, the little shit paralegal behind me was whispering to his buddy about things he could imagine doing to you if he could get you alone in the closet in the hall for a few minutes.” She stayed silent as he stood there, feeling his stupidity growing in leaps and bounds, until he had to do something. Moving his hand closer, he reached out until he found her pinkie, hooking it with his momentarily, “I didn’t mean for you to see that. I’m sorry I messed things up.”

Sliding her hand out from him a second later, she moved it to his back, running fingers along the indent of his spine, up and down, down and up, stopping to palm his side before letting her arm dangle between them, “it’s okay. I’m just glad you weren’t irritated with me. I should have asked you sooner, I guess, instead of letting things fester in my head.”

Her touch sent his skin buzzing, his hand always on her back, but hers rarely on his, and he knew she felt his quick breath in but both ignored that for now, “just to let you know, I’d have throttled him had we not been sitting in front of that many lawyers and the judge.”

She finally smiled, the left side of her mouth turning up, “I’d have liked to have seen that.”

Going for broke, he moved his hand to her elbow, then slid it down, working his fingers into hers, as he leaned in a second time, a little bit closer, a little bit quieter, “jealousy is an ugly thing, Scully, let me tell you.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Finally, finally, finally meeting his reflection, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

Now warm from head to toe, “since I’ve already showed you the diamonds, how about I go get you that ice cream now?”

“In a few minutes.” Wrapping her free arm around the one holding her hand, she whispered over to him, “I kind of like it here.”

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be || One For Every Billion

6. By My Side | Pt 4

"You've got to be kidding me."

Your group has already grabbed a table on the second floor balcony, overlooking the crowded paths below, at one of the nicer restaurants at the heart of the park's main food district and you've been checking updates on your phone after messaging Tobio and Hiro when Oikawa's unamused voice breaks through your thoughts.

You glance up to your left at him to see a look of disbelief on his face and when you follow his line of sight, you see the two stragglers everyone has been waiting on heading your way, weaving through the tables to reach you all.

"Tobio!" A smile breaks across your face at your cousin's grumpy visage. He seems a little closed off, studying the additions to your group with what you think is apprehension.

"Tobio?" Toru's head literally snaps towards you in question.

You turn to him as Tobio and Hiro come to a stop and pull out the two empty chairs at your table.

You hear Iwa murmur a low, "Oh shit." but you have to dismiss it because you're clearly missing something.

"Yeah," you watch Toru with a question in your own eyes, "My cousin, Kageyama Tobio. And Hiro, Hana's brother.."

Iwaizumi is actually facepalming while Maki and Mattsun are chuckling, but you can't see what's so funny so you continue with the introductions, "Tobio, this is-"

"We already know each other, Y/n. I went to school with Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san until they graduated this year."

Okay, small world. All you can really say while you digest this information is, "Oh."

But then, "Hiro doesn't know them... right?"

"No, not yet!" Hana's a lifesaver that steps in to make introductions with the rest of the guys while you chew it over. There's clearly history here, right?

Then, you kind of get an answer because Toru turns to speak with you while the others greet each other, "So let me get this straight. Ushiwaka and Tobio-chan are both your cousins?"

"Um. Yeah. Pretty much." You watch his eyes narrow on your response.

"Pretty much?"

"Yeah, Tobio's actually Shin's cousin but they're both more like brothers to me. I guess it's the same situation with Toshi but on my dad's side... we're not directly related either."

You can see the understanding light up his eyes for a moment, "You choose them, huh? As family?"

"Exactly."

"Interesting taste. So family but not."

"No. They're definitely my family, no question. Nothing will ever change that."

You and Toru stare at each other for a moment as you both try to work out what's going on in the other's head and where the lines are. When he doesn't reply back, you raise an eyebrow and prompt, "So.. you and Tobio..?"

He lets out a laugh that might be just a little bitter, "Please, there's no me and Tobio."

"Hm." You let it sit there because you're not one to pry more than that when someone is clearly somewhat unhappy. You'll get it out of Tobio later anyways.

And, cue lightbulb, "You were on the volleyball team together."

A cavalier smile spreads across his face at your question, it's definitely not sweet, teasing, or nice. It seems carefree but the expression in his eyes is almost telling you to back off. However, he still answers, "We were on the same team once, sure."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." You smile with what you hope is the kindness you want to relay and not the awkward uncertainty you're feeling, "Why? Do you have more you want to say?"

He studies you a moment longer before turning away to pick up his menu and study it instead. You still hear his quiet answer, "No."

You look away as well and your eyes fall over Tobio, who's looking back at you. His expressionless gaze doesn't convey much but, for once, even you can't read beneath it, and then the connection's cut when he glances away to the rides in the distance.

Okay.

The lunch goes surprisingly well considering the amount of tension around the table at the start. Mostly between Toru and Tobio, but even Iwaizumi seems more... engaged in the situation. Everyone else continues to get along fairly well and make up for those three, however, and the atmosphere eases out eventually. It probably helps that Tobio is quiet as per usual and Toru is unerringly good at pretending all is well in Oikawa-land.

When everyone heads out for the rest of the rides, you do catch Toru watching you interact with Tobio and Shin but you don't know what's so curious about your relationship with your cousins. What you do think is curious is his interest and attention when you're joking around with Karu or talking to Hiro. See, he doesn't seem to mind if you sit with your cousins, his friends or Hana, but somehow always manages to slip into the seat next to you if it looks like one of Hana's brothers will.

It's so obvious that you can't help but bring it up as you exit the picture booth at one of the rides, "Not that I should have to ask you permission, but are you going to let me sit with Karu or Hiro?"

"Do you want to sit with one of them?"

"Don't answer my question with a question."

"I like having you by my side."

"Still not an answer to my original question."

"Do you not want me next to you?"

"Stop avoiding my question or I'm going to assume you're jealous."

"Sounds like you want me to be jealous."

"I didn't say that."

"You also didn't deny it, Angel."

"Toru." You mean to admonish him for the little games he's playing but when his first name slips out and you see the wide grin start to spread across his face, you have to close your eyes in defeat.

It's with your eyes closed, as you're taking a breath to find your calm, you hear a soft smile in his voice as he calls to you, "Y/n."

And when you open your eyes he's holding up a printed picture from the ride you were just on. You and Toru are sitting next to each other, your hands interlocked between you again and you're trying to hold your hair down with your free hand, while strands still fly everywhere from the wind, to look over at him. Your expressions are caught in that moment, now eternal, as you're laughing at the cute pose he's trying to make for the picture but he's looking back at you and not the camera, with the happiest grin on his face.

"Why this one out of all the others?"

"I've been getting those too, just electronically. I wanted you to have this one."

"It's for me?"

"So you can remember how much I like you by my side."

You can only smile and take the picture from him, responding with a soft,  "Thank you."

"Say my name again, Angel."

"Oikawa."

"My first name."

"No."

"Please." He's giving you the cutest puppy eyes, but-

"I said no." And you turn to walk away before he can actually convince you, the smile still stretching your lips as you carefully tuck the picture into the hidden pocket, between your phone and cards to keep it from crumpling as much as possible.

-x-x-x-

Your group and Toru's end up going separate ways after an early dinner, which Miwa and her friend joined you all for. She got along famously with the unexpected additions to the group which you found pretty ironic. So did Toru, you guess, since he made it a point to state his delight at meeting a better Kageyama. No comment, you're biased.

You did have to promise Toru that you'd see him again before you left the park which, oopsie, you guess you never mentioned you'd also booked rooms to stay overnight. Haha. Yeah. You wonder if that means you can message him in the morning?

No, he'd just message you tonight if you don't first. He's already texting every so often and it's just been about fifteen minutes since you both went separate ways. So you end up texting him back to promise you'll see him in an hour or so, after some quality time with your cousins.

Back with the original group consisting of just your family, you all head over to one of the themed lounges to grab desserts and drinks. Tobio, of course, sticks with milk, while Miwa is all about getting her drink on with Sakepolitans - a cosmo made with sake.

Ren manages to convince her to order him an old fashioned or two, stating he's almost legal anyways - you roll your eyes at that - but you and Shin decide to experiment with the house recommendations. He goes with the Uji Matcha Latte while you go your typically coffee route with the café mocha.

An hour flies by fast as you all catch up on your day and make plans for the next but, by the end of it, Miwa is definitely in need of a bed, maybe with a trashcan by the side, and Tobio might actually be asleep on the table.

After telling Shin to stick with you and Tobio, Ren hauls Miwa away to get some sleep, letting you both know he'll be meeting back up with his friends after she's tucked in so to call if any of you need him. He does hesitate briefly, glancing between you and Shin, and you swear he mutters, "Just how much trouble can they get into here?" before shaking his head and leaving.

Hm. You throw a look over to Shin as he shakes Tobio awake and state, "Why don't you get him back to his room while I finish my coffee?"

He eyes you warily, considering your offer, "Right. Like you'll go to your room straight after?"

"What? Don't tell me you're not meeting up with Karu after you drop Tobio to bed."

His mouth opens but literally no words come out. Yeah, that's what you thought.

"What about you? Meeting up with your boyfriend?" Never mind, he found his words. Well, you can too.

"Why do sound like a elementary school kid? Oh right, emotionally you are one."

"I'm telling Ren that you're sneaking out." Rat. He would never, would he?

"You're literally just proving my point. Please, keep going."

"Why are you like this?" Ah, there's the crack. But you need to push a little more.

You lean back with a mocking smile, "Better than you at everything?"

Yup, now he's pouting. "Mean."

"It's genetic. You should know, you are too."

"Wow, I can't believe we're related."

"Me neither. Now, should I let you do your thing and have fun with your friend? Or do we call Ren and both end up stuck in our rooms for the night."

"How do you always...? Never mind." He grimaces in complete defeat, "Fine. Just keep your phone on and answer me right back if I message or call."

He's about to turn away but stops and adds, "And obviously old rules apply. You call immediately if you run into Ren so I can have my story together or make sure I'm back."

"Obviously." You smirk up at him over the mug before taking a sip.

But he didn't even have to say it. Whatever shit the two of you pull on each other, you also have each others backs when it counts. Especially with your older siblings. That was the pact those of you within a one to two year age range made with each other when you were all kids, as if any of you even had to. It's kind of cute you guess, but you'd never say that to any of them or they'd never stop harassing you.

As he heads off, you pull out your phone to message Toru and then decide to drop a picture of your drink on your twitter while you wait for his response. Which is unnecessary because the boy responds almost immediately. What, was he waiting by his phone?

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Y/n also stopped to get pics... at all the rides

-Toru might have been telling the truth and got them all lol and he was def caught looking at her in more than just that one ;)

-Not that she wasn't... I don't know about you, but I definitely think I know which ones they'll both get printed :)

A/N: Really getting there.. one more part left in this episode! Buckle up, it's the longest one <3

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot, @hawkthekinnie

[zims-left-shoe]

Ackkk I love all your works so much I can’t even they're all so goooooood. Uh, I don’t know if this would be dumb but could you do a Zim x an anorexic reader? Like, the reader has it, and zim just kinda thinks it’s normal at first cause he’s adorably clueless sometimes? Sorry for bothering you haha

You’re not bothering me at all! Thank you for the kind words, it really means a lot. I also apologize for any inaccuracies, I did some baseline research, but we all know that pales in comparison to experience. I hope you enjoy this regardless. :)

Zim. He was an interesting one, to be sure. You could barely recall the circumstances under which you two had met, as life with him tended to move at a thousand miles per minute. You wouldn't complain, at times less opportunity to think made things a little bit easier. What you could remember is being new in town, not hoping for much. Your new home defied all of your expectations in the first five minutes as you had the pleasure of witnessing some guy duke it out with a green kid in the school parking lot before school. That night you had discovered them to live in your neighborhood, by happy accident, of course, as the two were fighting, coincidentally, outside your window. You couldn't help but take a peek. In that moment, you had figured out Zim's greatest secret, that he wasn't human. In hindsight, you thought it was obvious from the start, that you shouldn't have needed to see him without his poorly made disguise to realize. Oh well. From that moment forward, you had set out to become his friend. How cool would that be? Friends with a being from beyond the stars. Eventually, he had become tired of trying to shoo you away, and at some point or another, he even asked to be your boyfriend. Something about studying human courtship. You had agreed, because although it was rather embarrassing to admit, you had developed somewhat of a crush on the Irken. 

And here you were. You weren't exactly sure when, but the feelings had become less one sided as the relationship shifted to less of an experiment, and more of a commitment. Zim was actually quite expressive if you knew how to read him, and you had caught on to his attachment. How long had it been, a month? Two? Three? Again, your concept of time had ebbed away while you lived life in the fast lane, always jumping from one scheme to the next, going on a date one minute and setting a trap for Dib another. You didn't mind. It was a nice distraction from yourself. 

"Welcome home, son!" The Roboparents' cheery and, well, robotic voices broke you from your thoughts as they greeted you and your space boyfriend. The parental decoys stepped aside and retreated to their hangars, allowing you to follow Zim inside his home and alien base. You sprawled out across the couch, kicking your feet up on the armrests. You had been to his place so many times that you sometimes thought of it as your home away from home. Pulling out his contact lenses and discarding his wig, Zim joined you on the couch, pushing you out of the way so he could have a place to sit. 

"Hey, I was comfortable." You whined, elbowing him in the side. He doubled over, his strange yet fascinating alien tongue slipping out of his mouth as pain flashed on his face.

"Humans are so bony." He hissed out, clutching his side. You didn't think you had hit him that hard, and figured he was probably just being dramatic. He was the ultimate drama king, after all. 

"Maybe Irken organs are just too soft." A snicker escaped you, and you watched as his antennae flattened against his head, his eyes narrowing.

"Are you insulting my SUPERIOR Irken organs?!" His voice may have been raised, but it wasn't in anger. He was just trying to mess with you, in fact the pain hadn't been severe and had vanished as quickly as it presented itself. 

"Tell me, what would you do if I was?" This type of banter would occur quite often. You were convinced it was how Zim showed affection. After all, it happened between him and Dib frequently as well, and over time, and those two had morphed into frenemies rather than true rivals. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He muttered, crossing his arms and pushing out his bottom lip in a pout. This pulled a chuckle from you, he was such a baby all of the time. 

"Yes, I would. That's why I asked." You pressed him, knowing full well it would result in nothing. Your small talk tended to be teases that went round and round, never resolved, the threats always empty. 

"Well, too bad! Instead I will tell you what ingenious plan I have in store for the Dib-stink!" Just like you thought. He wouldn't even consider some sort of consequence for you, he didn't want to. 

"Oh, do tell." You had heard these plans a billion times, but you never got tired of listening to the endless list of plans to thwart Dib and conquer the human race. You knew they would all go unfulfilled, all of them did. There was a time when his 'mission' was still a priority for him, when he was serious about destroying Dib. But the longer you were in the picture, the less he cared about that. He couldn't feel himself gravitating away from the whole conquering the Earth business, but you sure could.

"As you know, I've been working on this substance in my lab that will-"

"GUESS WHO MADE WAFFLESSSS!!!" The door to the kitchen slammed open, revealing Zim's faithful robot companion, gripping a mixing bowl and stirring it furiously, batter splashing up the sides of the bowl. It was indecipherable if Zim was more irritated about being interrupted or waffle batter spilling all over the carpet. Before he could reprimand GIR for either, the robot began to scream again. "Come eat!" He stood there in his neon green doggy costume, the hood down to expose his robot head. He looked happy enough, his tongue (why he had one you would never know) peeking out from the corner of his mouth.

"No!" Zim waved him off, hoping he would go eat them himself. Unfortunately, that was not what happened. GIR burst into tears, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. Clutching your ears, you felt your face instinctively scrunch up. Who knew one robot could be so loud? It was a miracle blood wasn't dripping from your ears. Luckily, Zim put an end to your misery. "FINE!! We will eat your waffles! Just, please be quiet!" He spoke through gritted teeth, his own hands grasping desperately at his antennae. 

"Yaaaayy!" As if nothing happened, GIR skipped away, humming to himself as he resumed mixing whatever contents remained in the bowl. A sigh slipped out as you rose from the couch to follow Zim into the kitchen. He was grumbling under his breath the whole time, of course. Taking a seat across from him at the small table, you wondered how often he was forced into doing this. His chin rested in his hand as he stared out through half-lidded eyes. The only way to describe him would be extremely bored. GIR set two plates down, one in front of each of you. He then brought over a tray of waffles, forking a generous stack onto Zim's plate and then moving over to you.

"Oh, uh, no thank you-" You tried to shove his hand away, the smell of the waffles making you sick. Not because they were poorly cooked. In fact, they smelled delicious. GIR paid no mind to your attempts to prevent him from laying several waffles onto your plate, returning to his position at the stove. No words passed between anyone as Zim forked bites of the sweet sustenance into his mouth in an almost monotonous manner. Clenching your lip between your teeth, your eyes became fixed on your own plate as you poked the stack with your fork. Syrup oozed from every place possible, creating an intoxicating and sickly sweet aroma that made your nose twitch. The longer you stared, the tighter your chest became, your toes curling in your shoes. It wasn't that you weren't hungry. Oh, you so were. Despite your body screaming that you were starving, you couldn't bring yourself to eat. Over time, you had managed to tune out your stomach's endless protests, eating as little as possible. 

"They aren't that bad, you know." Zim spoke through bites of waffle, eyeing you. He had been observing your staring contest with the food in front of you for a few moments, under the impression he understood your worries.

"I'm...sure they aren't." You mumbled, grip on your lip tightening as you felt your stomach growl. Shaking your head, you pushed your plate forward and towards the middle of the table. "I'm just not hungry." He nodded, not sensing anything off. He had no reason not to believe you. After all, he had seen you do this many times before. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he had ever seen you eat in front of him.

"Y/n, try some waffles!!" GIR scrambled over to where you sat, taking your fork and some waffle from the plate and moving it towards your face as a parent would do to a baby. You stood up abruptly, pushing GIR back in the process. You had absolutely no desire to be force fed waffles by an alien robot. 

"I forgot! I have some family stuff! I will see you tomorrow." You rushed out of the room, hurriedly grabbing your backpack from the living room and heading out the door, leaving an untouched plate of waffles in the middle of the table. Zim shrugged. Humans were weird.

(More under the cut)

-

Lunch. The worst part of the school day. Apparently humans enjoyed it. The only person who made it enjoyable for me just happened to be stuck in class for lunch, putting some finishing touches on a project or something. 

"Tch." My mouth was fixed in a frown as I approached Dib's table. Ever since spending my lunches with Y/n, it didn't feel right to sit alone. Everything was too quiet. I absolutely do not appreciate how admittedly lonely it feels. I dropped my tray, the sound of it clattering causing Dib to jump. 

"What do you want?" He stared through me, trying to be intimidating. I took a seat, and despite his attitude, he didn't stop me.

"To sit here."

"But why?" I stayed silent, bringing out my real lunch: the Irken lick stick things, which are apparently very similar to a certain human candy. I only took school lunches to look normal. "Oh, I see. Your lover not here?" He cooed, his tone teasing. 

"Shut it." I felt a growl rise in my throat. There was a time when I would refute that phrase; lover. I didn't have the energy for that anymore. "Where's the girl?" I asked, putting one of the sticks in my mouth.

"You mean my sister? Home sick. She's not actually sick, she just didn't want to come to school."

"Hm, fascinating." My words were dismissive, bored of this small talk already. Humans didn't like it either, so why did they partake in it? A silence settled between us as Dib picked up his spoon. I watched as he took a spoonful of the black liquid that passed as lunch and put it in his mouth, swallowing it. I couldn't lie, it intrigued me. Dib and Y/n's habits differed greatly. My current hypothesis was that humans were similar to Irkens, in the fact that they had no real need to eat, they only did it because they wanted to, just like my Tallest. Not eating being normal made the most sense to me, but the more I looked around the cafeteria, a minute amount of doubt settled in. Everyone was eating. Looking back to Dib as he continued to eat, he raised an eyebrow as he caught me staring.

"What?" There was a hint of self-consciousness. Clearly he was not liking how intently I was observing him.

"Why do you eat?" I asked, legitimately curious. He looked to be incredulously, as if he couldn't comprehend my words.

"Because we're not aliens, stupid. We need to in order to survive." He spoke between bites of toxic sludge.

"You do?" The words left my mouth almost immediately, feeling the curiosity only continue to bubble to the surface. Dib only stared at me as if I was utterly clueless. 

After a moment, he had decided that I was completely serious, and not just messing with him like I usually would. "How did you not know this, you've been on earth for how long now?" Folding my hands in front of my face, my eyes narrowed in thought. Things were not adding up. There were so many things about human culture that I clearly did not have a grasp on. To Dib, my lapse in understanding was worse than he thought.

"I just thought you were like Irkens, that you don't need to eat but you choose to."

"Why would you think that?" His words were broken by disbelieving laughter. There still seemed to be a part of him that couldn't believe this. I could tell he thought I was incompetent and horrible at my job. "It is unbelievable that you are an Irken elite." He shook his head, his stupid glasses slipping down his nose. He pushed them up with his fingers, a grin spreading across his face.

"Silence, Dib-thing!" If there weren't more pressing things on my mind, I would have made him suffer for that comment. Instead, I settled for a threatening hiss. "It's just, I've never seen Y/n eat before. They don't eat lunch, and anytime GIR offers them food they refuse."

"Yeah, well, I don't blame them for not wanting to eat this shit. I'm surprised my organs haven't melted yet." A chuckle fell from his stupid mouth. He shoveled in another spoonful, regardless of his words. "And I wouldn't trust GIR's cooking either." Even if all that is true, there was something that was still nagging at me. I couldn't let it go, there was something that just wasn't right with the situation.

"But even on dates...they won't eat. Are you sure this isn't normal?" I was surprised at how concern had crept into my voice. I was no longer confident in my theory, rather asking for confirmation that something was off. I thought it was normal. I know of several thousand races that don't require food, that get it from other things. Us Irkens are supplied them by our PAKs, we only eat for the taste. And there are some, very few, but still some, that don't like the taste of snacks, so they won't eat. They survive just fine, lasting as long as any Irken, hundreds and hundreds of years passing by no problem. Dib's cheeky attitude completely dissipated. The air felt heavy, my skin felt prickly, like bugs were crawling all over my arms and legs. 

"No, Zim. It's not." His voice was soft and quiet, a stark contrast to how he usually spoke to me. Fine. I'll admit it, I can be just a bit clueless when it comes to humans and their customs. But I am not stupid. I understand basic biological principals, I was a military scientist for years. If a living organism doesn't get sufficient nutrients, the only thing to come will be harmful consequences. 

"Oh." After a moment of sitting in silence, my entire body froze. I couldn't believe what I was even feeling. The stupid, filthy human that was only supposed to be a tool, a research-plaything, had turned out to be so much more. 

Irkens aren't supposed to care about anyone... I thought, clenching my fist so hard the joints audibly popped. We were always told in the academy that caring made us weak. That wasn't even the worst part. The scariest thing was that I found myself not wanting to stop caring.

-

You laid on your room floor, hand on your stomach. You couldn't help it. Your eyes drifted to the scale you kept under your bed. You tried to tear your eyes away from it, but you just couldn't. You didn't want to be this way, you knew it was bad, dangerous even. But at the same time, you couldn't grasp that you had a problem. You couldn't stop. You saw the statistics. You didn't want to become just another number, but you couldn't reach out. How could you? Just to have someone call you an attention whore? No thank you. You would rather suffer in silence, lying to everyone including yourself. Did you eat today? Of course! A smile on your face for others always, that grin fading every time you glanced in the mirror. Your eyes were like a funhouse mirror, constantly seeing yourself different than the reality. 

The only thing that seemed to brighten your day was Zim. He was a healthy distraction, and he never made you feel bad about yourself, surprisingly. He never chided you for looking too skinny, for not eating. You needed a push in the right direction, but you needed to be encouraged to get better, not harrassed into it. You needed to feel as if you had support, rather than pressure. 

The doorbell yanked you out of your mental spiral, but it did nothing for your anxiety. You were home alone, so you continued to lay there, hoping whoever it was would go away. However, that was not the case. After a few moments of silence, the doorbell was rung repeatedly, a constant stream of annoyance that flooded your ears. Muttering curses, you marched your way to the front door, opening it to reveal Zim standing there, uncharacteristically quiet. Immediately your mind went blank. Did you have plans that day? You didn't think so. If that was the case, then why was he on your front porch?

"Hello, human. May I come in?" You would have laughed if you were in the headspace for it. The scene before you was ridiculous, after all. Zim being polite? Couldn't be possible. And yet, he stood there on the step, clawed hands folded neatly in front of him, waiting patiently for your response, a cute and dopey expression lingering on his face. Now you were very concerned. You were even a bit worried that he had done something to his brain in his lab, that some sort of experiment may have gone horribly wrong. It wasn't that you hated nice and calm Zim, it was just...not right.

"Sure, I guess..." You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and leading him to your room. He had been there once or twice, but mostly, you both spent time at his place or around town, usually harassing Dib. You sunk down to the floor, Zim following suit. You weren't really in the mood to see him, or anyone at the moment, but you had suspected that, despite the well-mannered act, he would have let himself in regardless. Zim glanced around your room, and you couldn't help but dig your nails into the scratchy carpet. You just felt vulnerable. Deciding to ditch the discomfort, you made an effort at small talk. "So, anything interesting happen at lunch today?" You had already guessed that he would have gone to sit with Dib, you've seen how he despises being alone. Even though he claims to be this independent invader, you've found him to be actually quite needy when it comes to attention. 

"Why don't you eat?" Zim cut right to the chase, completely brushing off your own question. His voice was sugary sweet and innocent, and you knew his intentions were pure. His usual grating and over-excitable tone was missing. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his query. He sat across from you, staring expectantly, waiting for an answer. He didn't seem to understand why that question was so difficult for you to answer. You didn't think you could answer. And so you both sat in silence, uncomfortably staring. Your eyes were fixed on the carpet, his on you. 

As he stared, he began to notice something for the first time. You were much thinner than your classmates. He had never noticed before, because he was the same way, it was something that was normal to him, but that was due to him being an Irken. Most Irkens were naturally built that way. 

"Zim…" You had finally spoken, mouth feeling drier than the desert. Your gaze was still locked on your floor, studying every minute speck of dust and dirt. You absolutely refused to look at him as you toyed with your fingers, nervously debating on how to respond, if you should respond. You thought he would never catch on, because nothing about your behavior seemed to have bothered him. It was all habits he was used to back on Irk. He didn't know any better, he had always been inept at grasping human normalcy. You were embarrassed that he had to see you like this, struggling so hard, unable to call for help.

For once in his life, Zim seemed to understand the nuances of a human. He'd seen that look before, it was all over his home planet. Irkens who felt as if they were completely disgusting when compared to others. It finally clicked for him. He understood that you hated your body. It was a concept he could grasp. Irkens had something similar. For them, the insecurities lie in height. For humans, it seemed, it was their weight. He may not know much about humans, but what he did know is that it didn't sit right with him to watch you go through what you were without anyone by your side. Irkens never considered the concept of comfort. Emotions were always a confusing subject to any Irken, especially Zim, who often wasn't concerned with how his actions affected others. In spite of all that, he found himself itching to give it ago. Watching you sit there and torture yourself made him feel as if he was losing his mind.

"Human. Listen to Zim. This probably won't mean much, but..." Zim reached out to you, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as if trying to defend you from whatever threat you were faced with. You were once again shocked. Zim never liked to be too touchy feely. And in the rare occasions he wished for it, he would never initiate it. Zim, however, knew from his observations that sometimes physical affection made humans feel safe and loved. Thus, he figured he would give it a shot. "It doesn't matter what the outside looks like. It's all flesh and bone, completely uninteresting. The real intrigue is what's in here." He lightly pressed a claw into your chest and then to your forehead, hoping you got what he was trying to say. You couldn't help but melt at his uncharacteristic softness. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, knowing that there would more likely than not be more to follow. 

"I..." Your voice was too shaky, so you trailed off, leaning into Zim's continued embrace. 

"Zim wants to assist in anyway he can." Both of you guessed that would be tough, but you were happy nonetheless that he seemed to genuinely care for your wellbeing. You figured that if he had known this wasn't normal human behavior, he would have instigated this talk a long time ago.

After a few more moments of staying silent, you thought you were collected enough to speak. Since Zim was being the most open you had ever witnessed in your time with him, you opted to be as well. "I love you, Zim." Immediately you felt his entire body tense around you, your face buried in his shoulder, just in case you would cry again. Zim was thankful for this, or you would have seen the way warmth flooded his face.

At first, he didn't know what to say. Love was never a thing on Irk. How could it be, when everyone was encoded with programming? There had been rumors of this fatal attraction, sure. But it had been widely decided on that anyone who felt this useless emotion was a defective. Besides, love would never benefit a militarian empire. Because of the stigma, love was never a word that was tossed around lightly on Irk, if at all. Just another thing to add onto the ever growing list of everything that made Zim a 'defective'.

"I...love you too, human."

[marveloussupernerd]

No Candy is Sweeter Than You - Saeran Choi

Happy Halloween! I hope you’ve enjoyed my randomly generated Halloween fics (I’ll prob do something similar for Christmas maybe). I just watched a YouTube video and it lowkey scared me ? So here’s some soft Saeran to primarily comfort me

Prompts: passing out candy, Saeran’s pretty excited, his favorite candy is m&ms 😉

Summary: Saeran wants to spend his first time ever celebrating Halloween by passing out candy with you at your house. Just some short fluff !

You were... surprised to say the least when you found out Saeran had never taken part in any Halloween festivities before. There was an RFA party planned, but he really didn’t feel like going, so you wanted to stay with him. Luckily, you lived in a neighborhood with a lot of children, so you invited him to come over and help you pass out candy.

He was all nervous at first. He googled how to pass out candy for Halloween. For some reason there’s a Wikihow article on that. It was practically his Bible.

“Are we wearing costumes?” He asked over the phone, calling you the day of to make sure he has everything planned out.

“We can. Why? Did WikiHow tell you to?” You teased. He laughed awkwardly. It did. “Okay. You have any idea what you want to wear?”

“Well they said to do something like a ghost that everyone will recognize,” he explained.

“But that’s so boring.”

He chuckled. “Okay. That’s fair. I wouldn’t know.”

“Halloween is a night you can be whatever you want!” You exclaimed. “Don’t you have anything in particular you’d like to be?”

“Could we... maybe do a couples’ costume?” He asked awkwardly. He sounded nervous over the line, his voice soft and somewhat hesitant.

“Of course! That’s a great idea.” You tried to make sure he could hear your smile even over the phone, hoping it would comfort him. It really was a good idea.

“Well... I was thinking... you know Hades and Persephone right?”

“Like the Greek mythology people?”

“Yeah... I thought it’d be kinda cool to dress like them. Uh, we don’t have to if you don’t want to though!” His words rushed together. “I just wanted to throw out a suggestion and-“

“Saeran that would be perfect. Greek God costumes are always popular too,” you reassured him. “Do you have what you need for it or do you wanna go shopping?”

“I have to run out and get a few things anyway! No problem. I can go get the candy too if you want.”

This sweet boy. “I can go with you,” you offered. You always liked spending time with him, even if it was just running errands together.

“Nope!” He denied you immediately, his voice surprisingly lighthearted for such a shut-down. “You stay home and get dressed up and relax. I’ll be over as soon as I have everything.”

“You sure you’ve got this? I’m more than happy to help.”

“I’m positive! I’m really excited and want to make it perfect.” You heard him laugh over the line, his laughter music to your ears. “See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you. Can’t wait to see you all dressed up.”

He hung up the call first, obviously in a rush to get everything together for the evening. You went to your closet and began tearing it apart for that Greek goddess dress you had worn how many years ago? Hopefully it still fit. (AN: if you never had a Greek goddess costume I’m sorry but ur in the minority)

You got to work doing your hair and makeup. You wanted to look absolutely perfect for Saeran, to make this day so special for him.

It was almost time for trick-or-treating to start. Luckily, you heard a knock on the door. Saeran was right on time. You opened the door. He was wearing all-black, spare a burgundy cape attached to his costume. He had an extravagant looking cane. His intimidating outfit, however, was offset by the bright smile on his face and the dozens of flowers peeking out from the top of a bag. “Saeran! You look so handsome Baby,” you complimented.

He blushed. “I got these for you.” He held out the flowers and you took them happily. “Can’t be the Goddess of Spring without a billion flowers. I picked them all myself,” he added proudly. You loved when he had his little ‘Ray’ moments, dabbling in his passion of gardening.

You took the flowers from him and got to work finding something to put them in. You didn’t have vases or anything in the house. You settled with a tall water bottle for now. He entered the house, setting the bag down on the counter. “I’ve got all kinds of good candy.”

You pulled out the bags, pouring the candy into a large bowl and took note of what he had decided to buy. “Reese’s, Kit Kat’s, M&Ms, Skittles... you even got fun sized bags of sour patch kids!? I’m impressed.”

“See, that WikiHow article isn’t all that bad,” he defended, a small smile playing on his lips as he realized how ridiculous he sounded.

“Do you not have a favorite?”

“Favorite candy?” He questioned, eyes glancing over the types in front of him. “Not really. I was never allowed to have it.” He shrugged it off, as though it wasn’t a big deal, but you were shocked.

“Okay! Well throughout the night we’ll try all the different candies and pick your favorite.” You decided, nodding your head. He nodded his head in agreement.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” He rummaged in the seemingly endless bag. “I made this for you too.” He pulled out a flower crown. It was really pretty. You bowed your head slightly and he put it on for you.

“It’s perfect. Completes the costume. You did this all today?”

“All today. I hope you like it.”

“Oh Saeran, I love it.” You cupped his cheek with your hand and pulled him close for a kiss. Just before your lips could touch, you heard the doorbell ring.

Saeran broke away, far too excited to be disappointed in the interruption. “Our first trick-or-treater!”

You giggled, grabbing the bowl and following after him. It was a little boy dressed as Mickey Mouse. “What do you say?” His mother asked him.

“Trick or treat!” He squealed. You giggled. Saeran took a handful of candy from the bowl and dropped it into his bag.

“I love your costume, Mickey. You look great!” He exclaimed. He was SO CUTE. After he left, it was time for Saeran to try his first candy of the night. He shut his eyes and pulled out a pack of sour patch kids. He popped an orange one into his mouth.

“They’re fine. I like how they’re really sour at first. The sweet part’s just okay though,” he commented. It was like a food critic giving his review. It made you laugh again. The doorbell rang. He set the candy aside and opened it up.

“Oh my! Snow White! Aren’t you so beautiful!” You exclaimed, fawning over the girl dressed as a princes. You gave her her candy.

“I’ve got something special for you too Princess!” Saeran exclaimed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flower. “For you, Princess. Thank you for visiting us tonight.”

The mom was fawning over how sweet the act was. The girl was just excited to get candy AND a flower. She left very happy.

Next was a Reese’s cup. The second he bit into it his face formed an O. “I really don’t like it that much,” he confessed, mouth still stuffed with the candy. “It tastes like a peanut butter cracker mostly. If I wanted that I’d just eat a peanut butter cracker.”

“I’m surprised to hear it. Most people love Reese’s,” you exclaimed. He shrugged it off.

“Have you ever thought about having kids one day?” You blurted out, the words leaving your mouth before you could process what you were going to say.

He paused. “I mean... I’m not sure. After everything... I don’t feel like I’d be a good parent.”

You frowned at hearing his thoughts. “I think you were amazing with that little girl. I bet a kid would be lucky to have you as a dad.”

“Maybe with you I’d want kids one day,” he spoke, thinking aloud. When he realized what he said, he smacked a hand over his mouth, cheeks and ears turning bright red.

You giggled. “Me too Sae. Me too.”

He opened the next candy, M&Ms. “Which color should I try?” He asked, cheeks still dusted pink from the previous conversation.

“They all taste the same, so any.”

He nodded, then grabbed a blue one. You could hear him crunch through the shell. “Wait. I really like this.” He reached in to grab a green one, trying it as well. “Babe you need to try these. They’re SO good!” He poured a few into your hand.

You couldn’t hold back your laugh. “I’ve had them before, but thank you for sharing.” You tossed a few into your mouth. “New favorite?”

“I don’t even need to try the others. This is the one.”

The rest of the night flew by with plenty of trick-or-treaters. Saeran’s favorite of the night was the girl in the Snow White costume. Yours was the blow-up t-rex. The trick-or-treaters did NOT get many M&Ms. About halfway through the night Saeran had already consumed all of them. 

Finally, it was time to turn off the porch light and settle in for the night. “Did you have fun?” You asked, pouring the extra candy into a ziplock bag so that you could have some later.

“I see why you like this holiday so much. I think it’s actually my new favorite.”

You grinned at him, proud that you were able to make the night go so smoothly. “Are you staying the night or are you heading home?” You asked, moving the chairs by the door back to the dining room table. Saeran helped carry his.

“Can I stay? I’ve still got one more sweet I wanna try.” He had a glint in his eye but his smile was so innocent. Maybe you were reading him wrong.

“Kit-kats? They’re pretty basic but honestly I-“

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Nooooo! I mean you.” He walked towards you, one hand resting around your waist, the other taking off your flower crown and setting it on the table. “I never got that kiss form earlier.” He pouted.

“I’m not a sweet,” you giggled, hand moving to rest on top of his own. “I’m just me.”

He leaned his forehead to rest against yours, noses brushing against each other. “My Love, you know that no candy is sweeter than you. At least not to me.”

You couldn’t wait any longer and pulled him in for that long-awaited kiss.

[imagine-loki]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 2/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR’S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin’s company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki’s plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

A loud booming call for Loki made his stomach upset. The rapping of knocks and another call for Loki to join him made Loki growl.

“Brother! Come out and socialize!”

There were other voices in the common area as the main door shut loudly.

“We are all in our sleepwear so come out!” Thor was silent for a moment and Loki could hear voices of all his brother’s friends talking and laughing. Thor yelled through the door again, “I will get you out of there.”

Loki set his book down with care accompanied by a sigh. Loki checked his appearance and made adjustments. When he opened the door Thor’s cheerful face received a glare. Thor gripped Loki’s shoulder and pulled him towards the living room. More people were there than Loki had heard and noticed all the new faces. 

A short but plump body caught his eye. Then the brown hair that was still able to catch some of the fading sun set that shone through the windows. Of course, the one person who he bumped into caught his attention. As if she felt his gaze, her eyes turned to him with a glance then back to Sif. The woman did a double take and stared at him with her mouth parted.

“No way.”

Loki saw the words form on her lips and he swore he could hear them.

Thor whispered, “do you know her?”

Loki turned to face Thor in an attempt to escape, “We bumped into each other earlier.”

Thor laughed lightly to himself, “you are the one to break her phone.” Thor spoke as he rolled forward on his feet, “Trust me. Drop the entire situation. She doesn’t take anyone’s help.”

The flicker of Thor’s eyes made Loki’s heart drop. Loki hissed, “I know that look. Stop it.”

Thor waved Fandral over and he quickly went to them once Thor winked and waved to Loki’s entire body.

Fandral asked with a grin, “Which one tickled his fancy?”

Thor purposely clapped Loki’s shoulder, talked slightly above a whisper as he stood beside him. “Sirena.”

Loki understood the purpose in the movement because Fandral’s eyes were able to follow Thor and easily go to Sirena’s form behind them. Fandral’s face lightened with a huge smile. “The bigger figures are nice to hold. I must say they are very soft.”

“What?- no. It’s not like that. I bumped into her and I offered to replace her phone.”

Fandral’s eyes flickered a bit to the other side of Loki with a huge smile, “oh dear boy.” His head rose and hand patted Loki’s arm, “move on.”

Loki hissed lowly, “It is not like that!”

Thor nudged Loki, “It could be.”

Loki glared at Thor, who’s head tilted towards Sirena that was passing by.

Fandral gently lead Sirena towards Loki.

Sirena’s eyes met Loki and time stilled. All the organs in his body stilled for a horrifying moment and his body worked hard to make his mind function. It was rushing with heat that made his hands sweat. Loki played with his hands by pure habit of nerves. A learned behavior to attempt to rid the sweat off his hands.

“Sirena! This is my little brother, Loki! I hear you BUMPED into each other.”

Fandral smiled brightly, “Loki is a great guy. Very intelligent. He actually got the one scholarship…” Fandral waved to Loki to pull information.

Loki could not believe this was happening. This was not going to go well at all. “The honors scholarship.” Loki cursed the involuntary nervous swallow after. 

Sirena’s face turned towards Fandral’s who switched from an unbelievable expression to the charming one with a bright smile to Sirena again. “Yes the Honors scholarship. He has two majors, business and something with computers.”

Loki corrected Fandral, “Business Management and Computer Science.”

Sirena’s eyes went to Loki’s and a smile threatened to fully form on those lips.

Thor clapped Loki’s back with a huge smile, “always learning a billion things a day.”

Sirena smiled with direct eye contact, “soon you will know all of the world’s secrets then?”

With a glance at the apparent wingmen, Loki tentatively smiled, “there are still over 6,000 languages I need to learn. But sure.”

Those beautiful eyes widened and a huge smile overtook her face, “Perhaps you could teach me a few. I would love to learn a few songs in a different languages.”

With an attempt to keep the conversation moving, “Casual listener or musician?”

“Musician. -well. Kinda.?” The one side of her face crinkled dramatically in a thoughtful expression. “I am in the Musical Therapist major.” Her eyes stayed focused elsewhere.

Loki’s butterflies fluttered in his chest, “Than a musician. I would think you play for others?”

Her smile hesitantly returned with her eyes back on Loki, “it is mostly just little bars and hopefully soon practice in group therapy sessions. Everyone participates to a certain degree in the sessions.”

Thor spoke up and gestured to Sirena, “Mother said there were going to be music therapy groups this semester at the medical building.”

Loki watched as Sirena’s head tilted to the side slightly. “Who is your mother again?”

Thor smiled, “Frigga Odinson.”

“Ooohh. The chairperson for the medical majors. She is the nicest person I have ever met in my life. Also most patient and best at time management- she is my academic advisor too.”

Fandral teased with a small nudge, “don’t you have like, a billion jobs?”

Sirena returned the nudge a little harsher, “some people learn a billion things in different ways.” Her hair got a little out of place but she moved it with no care.

Fandral winked, “Well then are you still able to model?”

Sirena groaned, “you didn’t.”

Fandral smiled brightly.

Sirena pushed him away, “You ass! I’m going to quit.”

Fandral teased, “That art class would be dull and boring without you as a subject.”

Loki froze again.

There was no way he was going to be able to draw her. A quick glance down her body made the nerves leak out his hands. She had full breasts that gave ample cleavage from beneath the the long sleeved v-neck. Her waist distinguished with a slight inward curve and a small protruding belly. Her hips were wide and thighs that definitely looked soft… Loki’s eyes took interest in the drinks on the counter.

Fandral’s voice pulled Loki from his mind. “You agree Loki?”

Loki looked into the little circle of conversation, “what?”

Fandral smiled, “did you really think an art class would not have real models?”

Sirena crossed her arms, “Don’t get so excited Fandral. The least you will ever see me in is professional, plain bra and underwear. Besides, sometimes I get draped with some sort of cloth or clothing.”

“Such a pity.” Fandral laughed loudly at the rough shove. “I deserved that.” Fandral kept the step away to let Sif in. “I really think you have the anger of a wasp nest if you are poked wrong.”

In a quick movement Sif stepped back and Sirena whacked Fandral. 

Fandral yelped and flinched at the slap on his arm, “women slaps sting so much worse.”

Sirena smiled cheerfully, “just a small wasp sting.”

Fandral stepped further away and Sif stepped in again. There was an announcement that a movie was going to start soon. Sirena, Volstagg, as well as a few others left to make more popcorn in the kitchen.

Thor hugged Loki, “that was great brother!”

Fandral shrugged, “well. It was a little rough, but through some coaching from yours truly. Loki will have a date soon enough.”

Loki jumped in to halt the conversation, “no..”

Fandral continued as if Loki said nothing, “Sirena is somewhat a rare breed of women. She refuses all and any help. Even gifts. We know you are not exactly on a good foot right now with the whole, "I can get you any phone” thing. So Loki my friend she is not what you are used too.“

Loki hissed, "What’s that supposed to mean? That I am not her type?”

The wingmen and Sif exchanged looks.

Sif spoke for everyone, “yes.”

Thor seemed to feel Loki’s hidden hopes deflate, “Loki. You are completely different than who you were when we were younger. Your gifts now are… just items to appease. A woman like Sirena craves sincerity, and sentimental moments to remember.”

Sif spoke up again. “She would rather have a photobook of memories than an item to dust off repeatedly. Here look…” Sif sorted through her phone, “these are of last summer. We went to a few caves. She literally jumped off a cliff.”

Then there were all the pictures of caves. Everyone holding various critters native to caves. Water and land pictures all throughout the day. Loki figured at least 50 pictures had the whole group in the images. Cliff jumping into water below. The huge amusement at people laying on the beach that were in the previous pictures cliff jumping.

Loki felt the life and fun pouring out of those pictures and made him yearn for an exciting experience. Loki’s phone went off and it was time for him to go to bed.

Fandral urged Loki, “Stay up. Common. Loki. School has not started yet. Just drink some caffeine.”

Loki glanced at his phone. He already lost all of his reading time and usually Loki would be yawning but he did not feel even slightly tired. He canceled the alarm but doubled up on a wake up alarm. 

The movie was interesting and a moderately nice change. There was scenery Loki did not need to imagine like he had to with a book. Everyone discussed parts of the movie to the degrees of funny commentary or serious discussion.

When the movie was over, some people have already left for bed, but Loki’s body was alert with Sirena around.

She was so overly affectionate. She seemed to find a way to touch everyone. From shoves and highfives to rubbing arms and hugs.

She hugged him goodbye.

Her body was smaller than his in height but curse Fandral for stating the truth that fuller bodies were soft. She seemed to squish onto him in a wonderful way. Her hug made his heart flutter then fly to his throat when she parted slightly to crane her neck to show a smile.

“You give really nice hugs,” she muttered as she hugged him tighter.

Loki fell asleep easily that night.

He woke to a thump of his book falling on the floor, his alarm and a jolt from the dread of knowing he was late. He was exhausted from not being on schedule and cursed the morning for not getting proper rest. 

Loki went through his things to do for the day. The plan was to get back to his dorm and sleep without enjoying a little reading time. 

[yeet-man]

One’s Rebirth (Chapter 4)

A/N: Congrats to @red-riot-rat on getting 500 followers! That’s amazing, I hope one day I can get as many as you. Anyway, since they got this huge milestone, I might release chapter 5 later today who knows. I hope y’all enjoy this as always and peace out!

"Sir, can you tell us what All Might is like as a teacher?" 

J'me glared at the reporters that gathered around. The boy let out a sigh before speaking. "All Might is just how you expect. He's not called the number one hero for no reason." After he gave his answer he walked away from the reporters.

It was a drag to deal with a million people asking questions at once, but he needed to deal with it. He thought about what Ryan said a while ago, 'what if Mari is here because we're here.' J'me didn't want to believe it, but the possibility of Mari being there because of them was possible. He walked into UA Academy and started heading in the direction of 1-A.

A green haired boy, named Deku walked up to J'me. "Hey J'me! I was sort of wondering about your quirk. You see in the test that Mr. Aizawa held, you showed that your quirk was wind or at least I thought it was wind. In the hero's vs villains test you showed us being able to manipulate water, wind, earth, fire, and lighting, not to mention you teleported!" 

J'me listened to Deku speak about his quirk, the boy kind of looked at the green haired 'protagonist'. He softly chuckled when Midoriya finished speaking, he wasn't going to give details about the entirety of his quirk. "Midoriya, listen. All I’m going to say is I basically have a bunch of quirks in one."

The boy’s eyes widened in shock, he slowed down his pace a little to look at J’me. "H-how...how do you have multiple quirks in one?"

"It’s better if you don’t question it right now, Midoriya." His tone was serious, hopefully Deku wouldn’t question it till later.

"Oh...o-okay. Well, can you tell me about your quirk in depth, at least what you want to share." His pace quickly returned to normal so he wouldn't be left behind.

"Sure," He started talking about his quirk in depth for Deku’s sake as the two walked to class.

After a couple minutes of walking they got inside the classroom. J’me noticed right away that Kairo was missing. Maybe he was running a little late? Who knew, he just hoped nothing happened to his friend. 

Everyone was present except Kairo by the time the bell rang. Mr. Aizawa began to call students' names out, double checking to see if everyone was here. When he got to Kairo’s name he looked up, not seeing the boy in the classroom. 

"Has anyone seen Kairo Furo lately?" Mr. Aizawa asked the students that were in the class currently.

Silence passed for a few seconds before Ryan spoke up. "I saw him last night, he was going for a late night jog. After midnight I didn’t see him…"

“Maybe he overslept when he got home?” Kirishima called out from the other side of the classroom. 

"No, I highly doubt that. He wouldn’t sleep in on accident or on purpose. Since he got into U.A, he wouldn’t miss it for the world." J’me said out loud so everyone could hear him.

"Something must have happened between midnight and on the way back to his house…"

Mr. Aizawa looked at Ryan, then he looked at J’me. "If I assign you to this mystery, will you solve it?" The teacher had a serious expression on his face at the time. He wanted this to be figured out just like everyone else.

J’me and Ryan looked at each other for a few seconds and then nodded at Mr. Aizawa.

"Very well, I give you the entire day to figure this out. You two are dismissed at once, good luck."

The two students grabbed their items and started walking towards the exit while J’me turned around to ask a question, "Is quirk usage allowed Mr. Aizawa?"

"No, you must learn to not always rely on your quirk."

The boys simply nodded and went on their way. 

"So, you live by the woods correct?" J’me had to make sure there was no other way Kairo could have gone home. If there was, this ‘mystery’ could be for absolutely nothing. 

"Yeah, if someone did go into the woods near my place it’s basically a dead end." He responded back at J’me with a small sigh after his sentence. 

Ryan led J’me to an area that was by his house, though where Kairo was taking his jog. 

The boys looked around for any evidence indicating where Kairo could have gone. Out of all days this motherfucker could disappear, why the day Iida gets some spotlight? The boys encountered something almost an hour of looking.

The thing they encountered was another person that seemed to be looking for Kairo as well.

"Who are you and what are you doing man?" J'me asked the unknown boy they saw.

The boy looked at them, curiously wondering who they were as well. "Oh me? I'm Calvin Lewis and I'm in the middle of figuring out what happened here."

J'me and Ryan introduced themselves as well and told Calvin why they were here. There was one slight problem with this Calvin person though. He looked like someone very similar to a person they knew in their 'previous' lives.

"So, the both of you go to U.A I assume? From the looks of it y’all are in class 1-A." Calvin said with a monotone voice, he sort of just wanted to solve this mystery. 

Both boys stayed quiet for a few moments trying to figure out how Calvin knew they were in class 1-A. It was simple enough to figure out they went to U.A since the boys did say so.

"Uh yeah...Calvin was it? How did you figure out we were in class 1-A?" Ryan finally decided to speak up and ask the question.

"Well, from the way you two act I honestly doubted y’all were in any other courses except the hero one that is. And y’all aren’t in class 1-B like I am so yeah." Calvin told J’me and Ryan to follow him since he found something that could help them find out what happened to Kairo.

"Wait, you go to U.A as well? I'm surprised to be honest since you're like hella fucking tall. Shit you even taller than Ryan." J'me just kinda stared at how tall Calvin was when he asked the question and made the comments.

Ryan on the other hand, gave J'me a death glance and punched him in the arm. "Bitch."

The shortest boy of the three flinched at the hit and rubbed his arm. "Why you always gotta beat me, what I do to you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's called getting your body stronger." Ryan responded with a somewhat sarcastic tone in his voice.

Calvin just looked at the other two boys and let out a sigh. "Smh my head. Will ya just zip it for the next minute?"

Both of the boys looked at Calvin and nodded their heads.

Meanwhile J'me was trying to figure out who Calvin was. The way he spoke and acted was similar to someone he knew in his previous life.

A few moments passed before they arrived in the place Calvin wanted to show them. "I assume this was your friend, Kairo." 

Was? They were both confused on what he meant like that. Surely Kairo was just knocked out, there was no way someone could actually kill him...right?

The two boys took a couple steps forward in front of Calvin. They wanted to see just what he meant by that.

Upon seeing the dead corpse that was Kairo, J'me's stomach dropped. His best friend of over 8 years was truly gone, though he didn't want to believe this nightmare was real. 

He crouched down next to the dead body, checking the vitals of the corpse to see if he was truly gone. He was. J'me wanted to cry yet no tears could flow down no matter what. It felt like control was out the door though he still had his hand on it. 

Meanwhile Ryan wasn't taking this well either. He started blaming himself for what happened, if only...if only he would have jogged with Kairo. Would that have even changed anything? He didn't know but to be honest, Ryan would rather have his life taken than Kairo's.

"I'm sorry about y'all's guys lost, but this isn't a time to be sad. We have to figure this out and your friend justice." Calvin was a bit sad about the loss of a person, but he didn't know him so the only thing he could do was at least give Kairo some justice.

The boys nodded and began to search the area for any clues. About 10 meters out from the body was a blood trail.

J'me luckily found it and started following it. The trail navigated through the forest and to some plains. There was a huge blood pool near the exit of the forest, other than that it was completely gone.

A few minutes he called over Calvin and Ryan to check the trail and pool out, asking if they had any clues about the blood.

The two boys examined it, being careful not to mess anything up. At the end of it, they couldn't figure out how Kairo was killed or who the blood belonged to.

"Um...how about we take pictures of this and show EarserHead tomorrow?" Ryan asked, kind of hesitant to even do so though since his head was fogged up with his thoughts blaming him for his friend's death.

"Yeah...maybe he can help us figure out who murdered him." J'me let out a shaky quiver from his lips. It was basically time to examine the body and the wounds Kairo suffered. 

The shirt he was wearing was torn up, revealing multiple cuts along his torso and stomach, going in an ‘X’ formation. The cuts looked vigorous, almost as if that weren’t caused by a knife. Dried blood was all over his body and floor, it seemed like a homicide more than anything. After further examination Kairo suffered broken ribs as well as his skull being cracked open in the back.

“Jesus...who the hell could do something like this? This is honestly fucked up. And why Kairo? Out of all 7 fucking billion people in this world why him? This is complete bullshit!” J’me stood up and kicked the dirt in frustration. 

Ryan just kept looking at the dead body of his friend. He wanted to run, scream, fight the person who killed Kairo. Without any evidence he couldn’t do anything but blame himself for the death of his homie.

Calvin was trying to stay calm as possible. He didn’t need to break out into his emotions no matter what. He let the other two boys do what they needed to do to calm themselves down and return to the mystery at hand.

"You guys want to take a blood sample? It might help us figure out who killed your friend."

Both Ryan and J’me looked at Calvin, they had sort of a confused look on their faces. How were they supposed to take a blood sample when they didn’t have anything to get one with. 

Calvin just stared at them with no emotions on his face. "What? I have a small tube we can put the blood in." The boy then pulled out a small test tube from his jacket pocket. “Once I saw the body I went back home and grabbed one just in case.”

That totally doesn’t seem suspicious at all. Ya know the casual character somehow having a test tube. Makes total sense right?

Ryan and J’me looked at Calvin as if that wasn’t weird at all. They both did end up agreeing though.

Once the blood and photos were gathered, J’me made a couple calls so Kairo could have a proper funeral. Afterwards all three of them went on their way.

Ryan went straight home, not wanting to do anything but repeatedly blame himself.

Now Calvin was the only one of the three that stayed behind. He checked the area near Kairo’s body in case he could find any more clues. Not really finding anything else he went home somewhat disappointed in himself.

J’me made a quick stop at his house, running in, placing the photos and test tube on his nightstand. He washed his hands in the kitchen so he could glance at the clock.

4:12PM

Surely U.A was over at this point. The boy dried his hands with some paper towels, grabbed his phone and left the house in a hurry. He didn’t want to be anywhere close to where his best friend was killed. 

J’me unlocked his phone once he got out of the house, immediately calling Kirishima without a second of hesitation. The phone rang for a few seconds before someone picked up.

"Hey! J’me, what’s up?" It was the friendly voice of Kirishima, someone that could be trusted with anything.

"Kirishima...meet me at the beach." J'me sounded on the verge of crying because it was true, he wanted to cry but held it in for the time being.

"Why? What's the matter J'me?" Kirishima was concerned for his friend. After all he just calls, tells him to meet at the beach and sounds like he's going to cry.

"Just fucking do it Kirishima!...please." He hung up without saying bye or anything of the sort and just ran to the beach, not stopping for anyone or thing.

Kirishima quickly puts his phone up and his shoes on. He ran out the door and to the beach as well, worried about his friend.

J'me is the first to arrive at the beach. While he waits for Kirishima to show, he sits down on the sand and tries to clear his thought process.

Minutes passed before Kirishima also arrived at the beach. It took him a couple seconds to find his friend, but once he did Kirishima ran straight to him as fast as he could.

"J'me! Buddy what's wrong?" He asked with a concerned tone in his voice as he rubbed his friends back.

"We… we were able to figure out what happened to Kairo. He was killed… we don't know who did so that's currently what we're trying to figure out." J'me held his head down for the whole time, not wanting Kirishima to see him crying.

Kirishima kept on rubbing J'me's back as he sat down on the sand as well. "I'm sorry… even if I didn't know him like you did, I'm pretty sure he was a good friend and would have been a good classmate."

"I knew him for 8 years, this is such bullshit… why did it have to be him? It could have been anyone else but him…" J'me complained, wishing it could have been someone else that he didn't know instead of Kairo.

Kirishima didn't know what else to do so he just let J'me ramble on. "It's gonna be okay buddy… no matter what happens I'm sure Kairo didn't want you to sit here and cry." He talked softly, sorta not wanting to hurt J'me more.

"No… it's not gonna be okay. I lost my fucking friend, how is it supposed to be okay? Besides, even if it is okay I still have to live with the feeling that I couldn't even save him…" He started to feel many things at this point. Depression, guilt, anger, and other feelings that he couldn't explain.

"Just trust me J’me, everything will be okay as long as you have all of your other friends. And even if you knew what was going to happen, you wouldn’t have been able to save him. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth bro…" Kirishima hated to admit it, but it was indeed true. 

"I know, but still, I wish I knew what would have happened so I could at least be prepared. It’s just… we have been through so much shit together and we should have became heroes." J’me slowly wiped the tears off of his face. He let out a small shaky breath and looked forward at the ocean.

"I am going to become the greatest hero for Kairo."

Kirishima listened till he decided it was a good time to talk. "That’s the spirit J’me!" Deep down the red hair boy was jealous of his friend. He was able to keep going forward without one of his friends in the living realm anymore. How was he supposed to keep up with someone who could keep pushing through no matter what problems came their way? 

"Everything is going to be fine, just keep pushing buddy. I believe in you J’me."

J'me smiled slightly and looked at Kirishima. "Thanks Kirishima, I believe in you as well. I know you'll become a great hero as well." 

The red haired boy chuckled and patted J'me's back. "You know the future, that's the only reason you know." 

J'me smiled a bit more as he stood up and dusted himself off. He helped Kirishima to his feet before speaking. "Even if I do know the future, it can change without me even knowing."

Kirishima nodded in agreement and gave J'me a hug. "No matter what happens I'll be in your corner and I'll have your back, got it."

J'me was a bit surprised by the hug, but he did return it. "Got it," he let go of Kirishima a few seconds later. "I'll see you tomorrow Kirishima, I hope they don't shut UA down because of this…"

Kirishima also let go the same time J'me did. "I don't think they will, but I'm not entirely sure. I hope they don't either." 

J'me nodded and said his goodbyes. Once he did, the boy turned around and started his journey home. 

Kirishima also went home, wanting to get some extra sleep since school was no joke at times.

Once J'me got home, he opened the door and slowly took his shoes off. He double checks the door, making sure it's locked before going to his room

The boy sits down on the bed and grabs the photos that were taken earlier. It was worse to look at now then it was hours ago, maybe it was because he'd almost gotten over the death of Kairo? Who knows.

He felt the urge to throw his guts up, so he placed the photos down and laid in his bed. This entire day was stupid to him, but at the same time it helped him learn something. He had friends looking over him and he had Kairo looking down upon him in the clouds above.

[shesawriter39049]

|CHALLENGE| M| 1|

SMUT/ANGST/HUMOR-ISH

**SUGAR DADDY AU WITH A SLIGHT TWIST***

CEO HOSEOK X MATCHMAKER OC

Hoseoks’s kinda an entitled little shit

The OC is sassy AF...his mother would hate her..so she’s perfect!

He’s also smooth,and fine AF and he knows it...but so is she!

There’s not much of an age difference there both in there mid-late 20’s

Hoseok is first-generation Korean Amerian BTW New York-born and raised 

Jimin is Hoseok’s assistant so he will pop in and out of this

5K

ABOUT- Hoseok is currently CEO of “Diamond Supply” a company within “Carbon Black INC“ which is a multi BILLION dollar company founded by Hoseok’s family and four others! The current CEO is Hoshi, which is not Hoseok’s father he’s actually the VP. Hoshi,doesn't have children and he needs to step down from his position. So over the next 6 months, there will be almost like an election period if you will, and the13 board members within the company will be tracking all four of the candidate's business and social stats with a fine-tooth comb. Prior to voting the next heir into his position as CEO of “Carbon Black Inc”!

That’s where Y/N comes in ...Hoseok has everything working in his favor expect the” Imagine” or at least the type that would appease there more “traditional” investors and board members. Y/N who works as a recruiter for Y.G.K. was initially hired to find him a “Sugar Baby” ! Someone to stand by his side and look pretty for the next 6 months to give him a more.”Settled down” image….Initially, that was the plan…..

WARNINGS: There’s just a lot of teasing and sexual tension in this one, light daddy kink reference, Hoseok is a whole dom,  it’s so clear there fucking next chapter lol…. 

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

Jimins Face alone already had you ready to barge in there before you wasted anymore of you clients time! Damn near throwing the phone at you , not even bothering to say hello in the process! You still couldn’t understand what the issue was, honestly, this was one of the simplest charts you’ve ever had, besides how obnoxiously specific the physical traits were ! It was 80% superficial, personality wise they didn't ask for much!  Just Someone who could take direction well,non-confrontational...submissive is actually what they noted ! Essentially a woman to say yes sir with no questions asked ,damn near wanting a puppet you could feed a script to! That’s exactly who she was ...basically a pretty cockatoo so why isn't this working?!

Yes, yes  you were eavesdropping on your clients “Interview”, and you had no shame,actually, this was Jimin’s idea he was just as annoyed by this shit as you where, the two of you had been going back and forth for damn near a month now! Practically besties at this point! Ariel, the girl currently sitting in Hoseok Jung’s office would be your fourth recruit. He’s rejected three! THREE! You've never had this happen...EVER..and you just can’t wrap your head around it, initially you thought he’d be your easiest client to place. He’s younger than most, richer than most..and more importantly finer than most, whoever landed this job wouldn't have to fake a damn thing! Yet, none of your picks worked..the last girl lasted 12 days...if the bitch would've just made it 2 more you would've gotten your bonus! Which meant you could have finally walked out of YSL, with your new crossbody you've been eyeing for the past 2 months! 

But no such luck, so here you were, sitting next to Jimin, eavesdropping praying for the best, honestly, things where going well..for all of, oh I don't know 5 minutes “Did she really just say her favorite Korean dish was sushi!?” Jimin’s eyes cut in your direction and you literally can’t even at this point. Placing your index and middle finger around the bridge of your nose because suddenly you had the worst headache of your life! “Lodrt” 

“Oh fuck meeeee” Whined from your lips in nothing but defeat, she couldn’t handle him if her life depended on it! Hoseok was far too quick, witty,sarcastic, charming from what you could tell, he didn't seem rude but you could tell he was very..intellectual...she wasn’t. She was young, nothing but arm candy, and he was eating her alive! Dropping your head down on the desk with a long sigh..already giving up, the feeling of Jimin’s hand soothing your shoulder as if he already knew...she was done! Back to the drawing board for the fifth time! 

It wasn’t even a full 10 second before you heard his door creek open, insitally shuffling behind a filing cabinet, as you didnt want to hurt her pride by letting her no you came! I mean, technically it’s not her fault, you don’t want your girls to fake something there not, the reason you get such high reviews is one of your main focus..outside of the aesthetic is the genuine compatibility! Clearly she and the other 3 girls didn't have it, but why couldn’t you read that prior to sending them? This is what you got paid to do, and your typically damn good at it, why wasn’t his chart giving you what you needed to properly satisfy him!?

“Fuck it…” Ripped from your throat as you sauntered into his office once you observed her step into the elevator, Jimin didn't even attempt to stop you. A smug smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he awaited the results..the glint in his eyes indicating he already knew how this would play out! “Hoseok! We need to talk!” Blurted from your lips as you welcomed yourself into his office, as if you’ve known him for years, closing the door behind you, tossing your bag on his chasie. Hoseok didn't speak initially instead he just took his time,taking you in from head to toe, somewhat impressed actually. It’s not every day someone just barges into his office as if they own the place..now the real question is..who the hell are you?!

There was suddenly a look of nothing but pure mischief dancing along Hoseok's face as he observed you, only you were far too focused on your little spiel running through your head at the moment to notice! Swaying in his direction, in your oversized black blazer that you were currently wearing as a dress. Legs on full display as a pair of black strappy Giuseppe heels laced your feet, just enough cleavage peeking between the lapels to have him curious! Big vintage Chanel earrings dangle from your ears as you welcomed yourself to take a seat in front of his desk.The sweet, yet slightly husky scent of your perfume grace his nose, delicately crossing your legs, reclining into your seat.

“I’m sorry, would you prefer I call you Mr.Jung instead?” Cocking your head to the side slightly, the warm somewhat inviting tenor more than evident in our voice as you batted your lashes in his direction!, Still well aware of the power you possess in a situation like this and you weren’t afraid to use it in your favor! Hoseok was intrigued it didn't matter if it was solely physical, you had his undivided attention... and you planned to spend it wisely! 

A low chuckle rumpled in his chest as he took his own set, dusting his fingers through his dark mane of hair, that sat tousled on top of his head. Hoseok, had a slight undercut, which was lined to perfection..the top long enough where if he parted it to the middle you almost wouldn't know how nicely his sides where faded. The outline of his sideburns framed his disgustingly chiseled jaw to the Tee! A couple not so modest diamonds dusted his ears, fanning against his caramelized complexion. A burgundy paisley dress shirt, laid along his skin caressing every muscle on his body perfectly. Lips naturally pouty, forming almost a heart at their peak, sitting at the perfect shade of pink! 

“Hoseok, Mr.Jung is my father...and you are?” Brow quirked in curiosity, the base in his voice catching you off guard, so was his avid eye contact… but you were smoother than that, this wasn’t your first rodeo!

“I’m Y/N...the recruiter for Y.G.K-”

There was a dry scoff that left his lips at that, nothing subtle about the current disposition he had towards you and to be fair you couldn't blame him so you bit your tongue! “ I stopped in to see what the issue was, I've never had to place more than one girl...ever! Yet with you...she was my fourth..I just needed to see for myself where the disconnect was coming from…”

A low hum leaving his lips at that, appearing almost amused as he reclined in his seat  “And? Are you just here to waste more of my time or are you actually going to tell me what the issue is?” Flailing his hand in the air as if he’s already lost all patience for this conversation. The bite more than evident in his voice,clearly Hoseok’s a grade A smartass but again,in this situation you understood. So inteased of getting an attitude you took a deep breath..and answered the question nevertheless.

“Your charts the problem which is essentially my lifeline! I overheard part of the conversation with Ariel and your nothing like your stats, I'm assuming that’s probably your CEO persona... but not the person you are behind closed doors.  Which doesn't help me because my goal is to match you with someone who can handle the real you!” 

The low hum that fell from his lips almost had you hopeful, feeling as if he was starting to ease up a little and actually hear you out. You really where damn good at your job in this instance you were just fed bad information! “Hmm, I'm glad it took all of a month for us to realize this but yes, I agree with the fact that my “chart” as you like to call it was clearly total bullshit, and a waste of my time. You would have done better calling me instead of whatever generic Buzzfeed esque pick your match quiz you had us submit!” 

God he’s really, really, testing every negative ounce of patience running through your body, you could literally feel your jaw twitching “I wouldn’t say the questionnaire is the issue..more so the way it was filled out. It’s meant to be a tool to work in your favor, but you have to make it work” Pausing to lock your eyes with his, yet you knew what you were doing, you gaze was taunting, not angry, playfully challenging him at this point.  “I’m not here to argue, I'm here to sasifty…. so let me fix this.. I know your deal came with a specific deadline, If I’m not mistaken, we still have about a week left, that’s more than enough time for me to find you what you actually need!” 

An almost offensively loud groan left his lips at that, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the blatant disrespect had your nose scrunching into your face, brows furrowed “Excuse me? What do you mean “Mmmm”!?  I told you-” Now you were losing your patience..he’s officially pushed all of 2 of your buttons,and it took everything in you not to call him out of his name at this point! How dare he not take some accountability for the lack of effort he put into his personality chart even when you emphasize how important it is! Is he aware how much of YOUR times he;s wasted? The fact that you could’ve had these girls secured with other clients instead of also wasting there time!? No because all his spoiled ass can think about his himself! 

“Where the hell do you get off getting an attitude with me Y/N? None of this is my fault, I hired you because I didn't want to be involved,I have enough on my plate! We've been through damn near 20 pretty faces and-”

“Four! Hoseok, four!” The base suddenly hit your throat, you were starting to get defensive voice elevating ever so slightly “And again, did we not just establish that you, or your assistant or WHOEVER, screwed up your chart to begin with!? So how the hell-’

“Ohh so now we're playing the blame game? Reallll mature....Great save , oh I fucked up so let me blame my client, great customer service with that one!” The chuckle that left is throat was meant to sound taunting and it really fucking worked!

“It’s not the blame game, I’m just asking for a second chance to actually help you, you spoilt asshole! You just sat here and admitted you chart was total bullshit!” Abruptly rising from your chair, eyes narrowing in his direction, a second away from completely losing your shit  before you caught yourself! Yet, oddly enough so far he didn't even seem remotely fazed by your current disposition! 

“I have every right to be an asshole right now Y/N why the hell should I even trust you?! You knew going into this that ...we had a damn deadline and now we're damn near grazing it with the tip of our tongues…with zero results!” Now it was Hosoeks turn to loose his composure,voice dropping what felt like an entire octave suddenly rough and gritty the more he spoke. Which was actually really sexy but ...we’re going to try and ignore that for the time being! 

“What about that would make me want to even consider giving you another chance? Am I missing the part where you actually did what you were hired to do orrrr??”

“Oh for fucks sake, that's not my damn fault!” Yup, and there it goes again, all your self control ...Unintentionally stomping your foot against the floor as if you were almost having a temper tantrum.

“Awww, is baby whining now? Hmm? Is that your new tactic to try and get your way with me? ” Brow quirked in amusement, God you wanted to smack that smirk off his face. His tone was nothing short of condescending, though you found yourself more pissed at how good “Baby” sounds rolling off his tongue! Regardless of the context

“No I’m bitching which clearly you know a lot about since that’s all you've been doing since I got in here!!!” There was a sudden pause,a long one it was almost nauseating and it had you questioning if you'd finally crossed a line by saying that. You couldn't read the expression on his face right now, and that kinda scared you, so instead of just sitting in silence...

“ I place people based on the information I’m given, clearly we've never met so maybe if you actually put what you actually wanted we wouldn't have this damn issue to begin with! I gave you shallow and passive because that’s what you chart said you wanted.” Everything that radiated off your body was mounds calmer at this point, tone slightly tranquil “Your running out of time, and you need my help, I’m sorry we got off to a rocky start okay? Just... ...let.Me.Do.My.Job…”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do this entire time, do you think I want to sit here and play “ Are you smarter than a fifth grader” with these recruits? ! I didn't want to deal with this shit!I don't have time to deal with this shit!”  Throwing his solid gold pen across the desk, sliding back in his seat to hastily ruffle his fingers through his hair. To be honest it wasn’t Hoseok’s intentions to keep bantering back and forth like this, he was just stressed! He didn’t want to go this route to begin with so it’s not helping that it’s not flowing smoothly! 

“Great so it’s settled, you give me 48 hours and I'll find you perfect counterpart” Instantly turning around to head for your bag and see yourself out before the two of you were at each other's throats again. 

“No.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, whipping your neck around so fast it almost looked painful!

 “What do you mean no!?” Why, why won’t he just let this go!?

“N.O. You CAN help but in a different way….” Rising from his seat slowly pouring himself a glass of Scotch which he inhaled before it even fully settled at the bottom of the glass. 

Brow arched in annoyance and curiosity 

“Clearly when this is left in your hands I get malibu barbie with an I.Q of negative six...so let me pick….”

“I- fuck, whatever, fine, I’ll send you my roster and-” Fine sure, why not...if that kept him happy and had you signing a contract and hopefully reciving your bouns for landing him a susscessful recruit then sure! Pick all damn day Hoseok! 

“I don't’ need it…”

“What?! I thought you wanted to pick?” 

“  I don’t want your damn roster, if you care so much about redeeming yourself and actually doing what I paid you to do...then give me your best player…”

“That was my plan but you just said you didn't want me to pick.” Geunilly confused at this point, the slight attitude wasn’t even intentional. 

“You can, as long as we're on the same page..”

“Which is what Hoseok? What?” Mentally exhausted was an understatement, if your pride wasn’t in the way you’d just leave...

“You.” The word left his lips so calmly it almost went over your head! 

“If you want the deal then the Y.G.K. recruit I want is you...or theres no deal…I don’t have time for these rookies you keep sending my way”  You screamed everything his mother would hate and he fucking loved it, it also didin’t hurt that you were fun to look at. You had one hell of a backbone, your whitty, determined,sassy ...everything he would've put on his chart if he actually made it himself! You haven’t taken your foot off his throat since you’ve walked in, Hosoek was always one for a good challenge, makes the word “Daddy” sound even better when it rolls off your tongue! 

“What!? I’m not even up for hire, I’m a recruiter Hoseok, not a damn sugar baby! You can’t just snap your fingers and think I’m hired” Arms crossed tight against your chest, though...the idea was far more tempting than you let on  you’ve damn sure missed this. 

“No disrespect, but for you to be a recruiter..that probably means you’d have to have some prior experience right? “ Brow quirked at the implied question that he already knew the answer to “I don’t care how rich someone is...there not just buying Snakeskin Hermes bags for any “average” woman now are they?!”Tone blatantly challenging you as his head flicked over to your bag that set on the leather chaise diagonal from him.

“Trust me baby, it didn't go over my head the way you finessed your way in here like you owned the place , you know what you have working for you and your damn good at using it in your favor! I’m not here to judge, I finesse millions out of people all damn day...weather it be with my skill or my charm, either way, I'm closing deals and that’s all that matters!” I wonder if Hoseok could also tell how weak your knees were getting the more he called you “Baby”! More importantly how caught off guard you were for him calling you out on your shit!

“I’m retired…” Fell from your lips, it was all you could think of your mind was frazzled right now, but it was a true statement, you had not been on that side of the fence in almost 2 years! 

“Yeah and so was Jay Z and yet we got a good 4 albums and a tour after that so what’s your point!?” 

“My point-”

“Name your price.”

“Excuse-” 

“Your.Price.Y/N...Name.it...Tell daddy what you want” Smug, nothing but smug, Hoseok didn't even try to be discreet, he was living for his!

“$150K signing bonus off rip…” Thatta girl! Hosoek had you tripping over yourself for a moment, but the minute he said that he flipped a switch! 

You didin’t even know where that number came from..it was just like your body reacted on autopilot...he may be a total entitled smartass..but your not a damn fool. He’s right you got that bag because you are good at what you do, these sugardaddie’s aren't the only ones who know how to work there magic and get what they want. Your charm was deadly when need be, it takes a special kinda persona to finaness the “system” the way you do...or did I guess I should say! He wanted a price well...there ya go! 

The smirk that danced up his face was just as sexy as it was offensive “Right, so essentially what I just made on this deal I signed off on?” Cocking his head to the side slightly, tongue playing at the corner of his mouth “Done.” He was so nonchalant about this it was almost comical, you would have sworn you asked for a Big Mac or something! Tossing the contract aside as if it didn't mean shit, because it didn't you knew Hoseok's net worth! 

“I- you...what!? ” Did he really just agree that fast!? After you just yelled at him, and cussed him out!? 

Clearly he found your state of shock amusing a gritty chuckle rumbling in his chest as he poured himself another drink. “Don’t act surprised, you know you aren’t used to hearing the word no, which I can appreciate because neither am I!” 

“Why!? Why me, you don’t know shit about me, you could’ve easily had Ariel, or anybody else and none of them would have even cost you a fraction of that price!  Why are you so willing to pay me whatever the hell I want even after I failed to place someone else in the position?”Slowly sauntering over in his direction until you were so damn close to him your eyelashes could almost flutter against each other. “ And I dare you to tell me that your any different than any other man I've dealt with in you position. That your reasoning runs  ....deeper than you wanting to bend me over this damn desk” God, his lips were a problem, his damn jawline was a problem, why the hell did you get this close again!?

He didn’t respond right away, letting his eyes trace over every element on your face, and it took everything in you to pretend you knees weren’t caving in. Once his eyes landed on our lips, licking his in the process. Leaning forward, bracing his weight on the desk, hands resting on either side of you body as he hovered over you. Yet your stance never faltered he was challenging you ...AGAIN and There was no way in hell you’d show how consumed you were! Not when it was your decision to invade his personal space to begin with! The scent from his colgen filling your nose, having to physically remind yourself not to moan….. Hosoek knew exactly what he was doing, lips sitting slightly ajar, teasing you to arch up ever so slightly! You could damn near taste the liquor on his tongue...

“I’m a man, more importantly a man with damn good taste!  So yes, the idea of having you face down ass up sounds, sinfully appealing” Fuck your throat was dry as hell right now…”But no that’s not why I’m offering. Your not blind, clearly I dont need to pay for sex, I’m not some 60 year old man with a saggy ballsack so I’ll be frank with you! The contract has a deadline because so do I…” Now we're finally getting somewhere...

 “This was my families idea, hints all the confusion and my very short fuse, they want someone by my side as I embark on a new... Business venture. Clearly you can tell no one you’ve sent can even remotely stacks up to what I require in a partner, fake or not! I failed drama I don’t care how many cameras are in my face..I don’t act! Either I vibe with someone or I don’t..”

“We haven’t vibed Hoseok, we've argued! Since you think you can do my job better than I can...what's your rationale for pairing us together oh wise one!?” Nothing but sass dripped from your tongue at that...and he fucking loved it. The smirk that dance up hid lips said it all. A low hum fell from his lips as he leaned in, even closer, chest thumping so hard you questioned if he could even hear it. Fuck, you really wanted to grab him by the back of the neck and find out how good he tastes! 

“You tell me ...tell me what I need…” Something about his delivery had heat pooling between your thighs, voice getting dangerously low, and so where his eyes …”Since my charts fucked and your claiming that’s what screwed you up...tell me what I actually need…”

Clearing your throat slightly, trying to pull your shit together yet you didn't pull back from him, you didn't want to...you liked the intensity! If you were smart you’d disregard his question but, you felt like you needed to prove yourself….. 

“Someone to stimulate, and balance you out you mentally...” Purred from your lips earning a hum of approval, which , followed behind and confirmed every other bullet point …

“Someone well dressed..”

“Hmm…” - fuck he really needs to stop doing that

“ Cultured..”

“Mmmhmm..”

“Whitty..”

“Mmm, keep going…” 

“Quick on her toes, Sar-”  A dramatic sigh leaving your chest at that, eyes rolling to the back of your head more times than  you could count once you realized what he was doing. Hoseok was having you describe yourself, because ideally, you were the type of woman you’d try and set him up with.

The level of smugness that danced along his lips proved he was proud of himself “And you were sayinggg???” Purposely Letting the last syllable roll off his tongue sing song like.

You should've realized this the minute you met him…. Hoseok only needed a “Sugar Baby” for the contrational purouses, the fact that once signed it’s the person's job is to be whatever he needs! That  type of control would allow his family to insure she's adding to whatever “Aesthetic” he needs for this business venture..it was purely about control! That’s the disconnect, his family wanted the pretty faced puppet that they can morph into whoever they wanted. And clearly that's the last quality Hoseok wants in a partner, even a fake one! Now it makes more sense why a man like him..would have even signed up for something like this! 

“I’m sayingggg...EVEN if I considered, and if I did it wouldn't have shit to do with you and everything to do with the money...there would be no contract because I’d get fired! I’m a recruiter Hoseok, I can’t use the information I get to look out for myself, that's the definition of conflict of interest. Once you find a girl we make a contract.. We get a monthly percentage of what you pay per outside of gifts and little bounces..there's no way they wouldn't know and-”

“So we cut Y.G.K out...“In all honesty, you haven't placed a girl yet, I’ll have Jimin write a very nice email, so it doesn't make you look bad. Will just say I’m going to try looking for love on my own or some bullshit! They’ve already made there fee to add me to the roster ...” Letting his gaze pry into yours only to snatch you by the throat “Then, me and you make our own contract...I’ll pay you directly...problem solved…” Hoseok was starting to work his own angle and you hated the knots forming in the pit of your stomach as he changed his entire vocal presentation. It was smoother, husker..slightly breathy..everything it needed to be to get you to say yes, but again you weren’t a rookie, you were still somewhat thinking clearly!

“No, not problem solved..what happens if pictures get out!? I’ve done my research, it’s a part of my job your Korea's resident bad boy..the press love to hate your ass over there! Yeah,granted I go to events that you’d probaly frequent and network or  whatever the fuck you wanna call it! But what happens if someone gets a pic of us in Malta or something!?” 

The slight shrug in arrgrence really didn't help … “See! You don’t stay with one person which is why I’m sure you got sucked into this..the minute were seen together more than twice it’s news! How the hell do I rationalize that!?” There was a sudden growl in your voice and you weren;t sure where it came from, maybe because you were slightly annoyed that the hustler side in you really wanted to say yes. Fuck rational, fuck how this would probaly all blow up...you missed getting paid to look cute! Maybe it was also because you really wanted him to bend you over and fuck the shit out of you on top of this desk…

“Then, will take it as it comes, I know that’s why you asked for a signing bonus..incase that happens and work finds out, or once this contracts over and we go our separate ways...so your not on your ass..your smart!”  A slight smile tugging on your lips because he’s right $150K is about three years pay...at Y.G.K before taxes ...enough where if something happens at least you wouldn't be royally fucked!

There was a beat of silence eyes searching his for all the answers...

“I’ll give you until midnight...if you think there's a recruit in your roster that can actually keep up, I’m open to it. But if not we will be respectfully parting ways with Y.G.K. it’s solely business.  I've actually already paid 2 other companies I just haven't used their services because I was trying to hold out for you...but were getting a little too close for comfort !” Pulling back from you painfully slow and it took everything in you not to chase after those pouty lips of his! 

Instinctively you reached up pulling him back by his silk tie “What are you actually looking for Hoseok?” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, especially with the low growl slipped past his lips at the sudden tension pulling along his neck. An amused smirk forming yours “Hmm..someone likes pain I seee….” Tone blatantly flirtatious you licked your lips

“Hmm..someone likes to tease I see...” Mimicking your tone to a tee, you were so stupidly turned on and this was all your fault! The sudden shift wasn’t as discreet as you hoped either “Don’t play if you can't handle it baby…just because I’m younger than probably anyone you’ve delt with...that stll doesn't take the “Daddy” part out of the equation”  Oh fuck you! As if you ever even questioned that for a nanosecond!

“Answer. The.Question Mr. Jung…” Bounce back game sill on point, regardless of how your panties currently felt! 

“You just said it... everything that’s NOT on my chart. I don't want some young bright eyed, bushy tailed girl who will cry everytime I take her to Chanel...or someone I have to order for at every damn restaurant. That's not for me...I dont have the want to desire for that. Like I said I don't have an issue getting laid this contract was never sexual for me it’s a…”Aestheic” if you will…” He was clearly being very selective about how much he told you about this job...which only had you gears turning, creating your own scenarios as we speak.

“I personally didn't want “This” to begin with but if I have to do it, even if it’s only for 6 months..I want it to be with someone I can actually tolerate. “ At least you could respect his honesty…he’s not desperate, nor is he begging, he’s just simply saying he doesn't have problem paying for quality! Especially if it’s going to make his life easier, either way he’s entering a contract that’s going to cost him money, why not pay top dollar for the premium package then?!

“Someone to look good on my arm at events, but also be able to hold her own if a mic gets pointed in her face, someone to stand next to me at board meetings. Attend gallas, charity events, company parties and just look like the, supportive partner that all the other men within my brigade have. And of course the fun part...because none of that shit’s fun, so whoever she is, she deserves to be spoiled.Wined and dined, shopping sprees, spontaneous trips to London, Pars, Spain,  I live multi coastal so that’s always fun! All the perks your use too only I’m not expecting you to fuck me...if it happens... it happens ...”

A low hum leaving your lips at that, gazing up at him through your full set of lashes...“If you keep looking at me like you already want me to bend you over this desk, were going to have some problems…” 

“You sure I actually even really want that?” Trickling your fingers up his chest “As you said, clearly I’m damn good at my job…” A subtle wink flutter in his direction earning a slow nod that essentially read “Touche” 

“True, but your eyes have been pacing between my jawline and my lips the entire time you've been in here…” Reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and it took everything in you not to lean into the contact. “Now if you excuse me, I have a very tedious conference call to get ready for, get my personal email from Jimin on your way out. Send your picks to me directly and will go from there…”  Swiftly returning his gaze back to the stack of papers on his desk, it’s not even a full 20 seconds before his phone's ringing and Hoseok’s groaning!

“Mr. Zyang, how are you? How’s Linda?” Smiling from ear to ear as if the person on the other end could see him, charm on full blast! Shifting the bottom end of the phone away from his lips so he could whisper “I gotta go, get my number from Jimin, will talk tonight” His eyes were reading a little different right now, they were softer and you were turning into putty! 

A slight smile tugging on your lips as you swayed past him, you could feel his eyes burning straight through as you walked, grabbing your bag off the chaise. Not even giving him the satisfaction of looking back at him before you exited the room. You knew he was waiting for it too, just so damn sure you needed one last look at him, which honestly you did…

Feeling a little more than accomplished that you didn't cave like you thought you would, seeming to remind yourself that at the end of the day..this was solely business! A permanent smile engraved on your cheeks as you closed the door behind you.

“SOOOOOOOOOO!? You were in there long enough! What’s the game plan!?”

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

THIS HAS BEEN SITTING FOR A WHILE! PART 2 IS HALFWAY DONE..IF THIS GETS ENOUGH LOVE ILL GET IT UP....IF YOU LIKED IT “LIKE IT” COME HIT UP THE ASK...

LOVE YOU GUYS AS ALWAYS,

ROCKI

[justformyself2]

Notthing Hill.²

A/N: Hi, back again with part two,if you are reading this right now i hope you know you are awesome ♥

This is my participation on my friend’s @lullabieswrappedinlies​​ Rom-Com writing challenge (go check her out, she is so damn creative and amazing).This story is based on the movie Notting Hill and will be added on my MASTERLIST. or tell me you want to be tagged if you want to keep up.

BEFORE YOU JUMP IN BE ADVISED.

 Pairing: Reader x John Krasinski.  Contains strong language.

"There is no way she still sleeping. She doesn't want to see me."

Restless, Alexis occupies the empty chair in front of you, once again, pretending to care about her manicure, lashing out on her right thumb by sinking her teeth into it. Her eyes were darker, tired, but still somewhat attentive to the stair at random times. You didn't need to ask why she was wearing the miserable beige turtleneck shirt. Several times, she promised to donate boxes, like a martyr, with no other way of portraying it. She was torturing herself. She hasn't slept.

"Shame on her, it is exciting to watch you trying to eat your fingers."

She laughs, and you know she is pissed, Alexis at her best only giggles, and laughs are only separated for dramatic times.

"You can tell me that when you have your kids."

"I have you."

"Why is everything a joke to you?"

"She is fifteen Alexis, it could be worse."

The corner of her lips curved down.

"Yes, it could, and it is...for both of us."

Her irises went cold while watching over you, bowing over the coffee mug. The image of Rudolph and Santa, swinging outside, blinked on your memory in the firefly pattern. It wasn't mourning material remains of the past. It was a sarcastic move that turned into a premonition growing for weeks into the back of your imaginative thoughts, crashing ever now and then like weaves.

"What did Kyle said?"

Your itching tongue asked, without conscious permission, breaking the sacred rule you could pretend not to live by, so the feeling of being in control was maintained. You wondered, yet you knew it, and Alexis was respectful towards the way dealt with it, to a point.

"Ghost from Christmas past called, he wants you to get that shit out of your front door, by the way, I'm going upstairs."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What was that?"

"She is breaking up with me, on a three-line text, what the fuck!"

Kyle pats my back in a way that is supposed to be some type of comfort as I try to read between the lines of a very simple "This is not going to work." 

"At least you saw it coming."

He says, then takes a sip of the London Pride, looking down at his phone. He was right. I saw it coming since the last phone call, we were bored with each other, her more than me, and I couldn't even blame it on the day-to-day routine, not satisfying enough for Naomi, between the several months apart. I wasn't as adventurous as she needed me to be or that I purposely pronounced the "I love you." right close to an inevitable end to show that I, at least, cared at some point, which was pitiful in the end, considering we weren't that much introduced to the expression. I could blame the fact that I wasn't the one who did sooner to spare her from doing it over text. I deserved it.

I put the phone back into my shirt pocket as Kyle got the eyes fixated into his, sighing a tone louder than before, letting me know it is my turn to ask, just as yesterday. He fixes the Patriots cap once and twice, making it possible to spot his sweaty forehead amid the chilly weather.

"So, what is up, Alexis?"

"Nothing yet."

He drops the phone over the green tablecloth. I noticed how easier it became to spot frustration on another human being as if I could feel it on my own skin, and how it was sad. However, a valuable trait I would carry from my now, past relationship. Kyle could be more straightforward than Naomi ever was, shifting to a slightly nauseated expression at each glare towards the phone.

"You talked to her yesterday, how was it?"

I aim to ask the necessary questions so he could be comfortable enough to vent the rest organically as he's has been waiting for. 

Kyle shrugs and inclines himself over the table, readjusting the cap again.

"I left when my daughter was barely ten, I appear once in a lifetime so she can be reminded of the daddy she has, how do you think it went?"

"Not great."

"Yeah, not fucking great."

A resentful laugh comes out with the answer, causing me to come down from my simple perspective, realizing that Kyle was more than a frustrated man who just couldn't make it work, we weren't neighbors of the same pain although linked by two different women with the same last name.

"What is changed now? It this just regret, or do you still think you love her?"

I ask, remembering to taste the beer becoming hotter in front of me, with the clear image of Portobello Road filling my memory, opening a box of its other branched memories. At least there was some pride in knowing I hadn't let myself wander around the thought for some months, months spent with Naomi, who hated people who remained in the past. I began to love the irony of our combination, convincing myself by using the 'fair balance' argument. Now she could be making her bags with recently brought tickets to whatever exotic place she wanted to go. At the same time, I was dragged back into the past. 

"I... I want to see my daughter man, I want to stay for good in her life, fuck everything else, I want to do the right thing now, I didn't do it with Alexis, but I want to do it for Nova."

"And by the way, you are sweating over your phone, she hasn't decided yet."

"No, she is going to make me suffer for it, and it is not like I don't deserve it, but I won't give up, I won't give up."

He takes, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder, apprehensive.

"Well, you already know what I think about this."

His eyebrow raises in response to the remainder of our previous conversation.

"I know... I know, I won't force them to forgive me or love me, accept me back or whatever, but I want to try."

He cleans the remains of alcohol out of the mustache. I remembered how Alexis didn't even recognize him at first because of it. It made me wonder how (Y/N) would have reacted it.

"Is Y/N still there?"

He laughs, elbowing my arm.

" Oh...What? Are you also wanting round two, hun? Now I get it."

Kyle's second laugh echoes on the bar, attracting every British look a mile away. I can't help but incline over the table and bow my head, holding a grin while he looks around for a second, managing his tone.

"I'm only asking, man."

His attention bypasses my answer, causing me to regret asking him about (Y/N).

"Do you think it is funny that we only took this stupid job to get back to them? This movie is already busted. That fucking script could have been written better by a twelve-year-old who watched a bunch of Transformers movies."

"Transformers actually made about four billion, and no, I didn't take the job to get back to anyone."

"I know that you, in fact, did exactly that, and I know because Naomi told me you were ready to pack to some shit she hooked you up for, and when I got hold of you later, you didn't even want to listen till I told you the location we were filming. You changed your mind too, fucking, quickly. Tell me I'm lying, chowderhead."

I chuckled at watching his overexcitement. Besides my father, who still inhabits the same house in Newton for the past 40 years, Kyle always carried the Bostonian slangs, using words such as 'chowderhead' at random times. However, he is still fixed in California for decades. Mr. Krasinski would be proud of him.

"I'm not here because of her." 

"And now Naomi did puff."

He shrugs smirking.

"She broke up with me."

He raises the bottle.

"Yeah, it means that you are in luck, enjoy it. You can come with me if you want after you pay the bill."

I roll my eyes before noticing more people starting to fill the tables around us, most of them looking under the drinking age.

"What place is this again?" "Walmer Castle pub."

[demonfox38]

Prompts? If you need one I have an idea. Soma becomes a vamp and Alucard helps him adjust.

I think this prompt may have triggered some social isolation feels…

/***/

To say that Soma Cruz was not feeling well was a mild understatement. There were colds, there were flus, there were viral outbreaks, and then there was vampirification. Even that was becoming an annoying regularity in Soma’s life. Get abducted by a cult? Turn into a vampire. Get Arikado’s blood in an open wound during a life-or-death fight? Drac was back. Feeling a little angsty about work? Boom! Acne and rashes and huge-ass fangs.

He laid on a futon that wasn’t his, staring at the mottled drop ceiling. These containment apartments Arikado’s agency owned were terrible. Not in an infestation way, no. Each were sparkling clean, scrubbed down to the baseboards. They were just so boring. There was a kitchen he couldn’t use, a bathroom that would kill him, a TV with five million channels showing ten billion people having way, way more fun than he could. Even the walls were starting to screw with him. He was so used to the unified paint color that his brain was starting to invent pink, yellow, and blue splotches on them.

He wasn’t even sure if the rattling at the door was actually the HVAC system kicking on or someone paying him a visit. At least, not until Arikado passed into his line of sight.

Long legs folded onto a discarded couch cushion on the floor. “Good morning.”

Soma’s head drifted. “Good morning, or good evening?”

“Good evening, I suppose.” If Arikado was annoyed with Soma’s attitude, he was at least keeping his own in check. “It is 20:00.”

“Hooray,” Soma sighed.

More clinking drew his attention. He watched as Arikado lowered a tray onto the coffee table next to Soma’s futon. Even in the shadowy confines of his containment center, he could still see shining streaks bouncing off the edges of glass and metal. Two drinks were propped on the tray. Soma’s stomach sank at the sight of them. He could hope that they were tomato juice or Bloody Mary cocktails all he wanted, but he knew what Arikado had brought him.

The dhampir kept cool, clinical. “I have contacted both Julius and Yoko. They will be arriving in Tokyo within the week. They should be able to cure your condition after that.”

“So long?” Soma asked.

“International travel has been restricted, somewhat. A viral outbreak in London has had repercussions for any outgoing flights,” Arikado explained. “I suppose, in a fashion, we are all in a bit of a lockdown at the moment.”

Sarcasm could only mask so much of Soma’s discouragement. “Yay.”

“At least they were able to get clearance.” Arikado smoothed the creases of his dress pants. “For what it is worth, Hammer sends his regards and wishes for your recovery.”

The futon creaked as Soma sat up. “You called him, too?”

“Of course,” Arikado nodded. “He is your friend, after all.”

Soma smiled. Even prickly Arikado could be nice, now and then. “And Mina?”

Arikado’s silence said far more than he could.

The young man flopped back into the futon. Oh, boy. What was it this time? Was Arikado purposefully hiding what had happened to Soma? He couldn’t be that stupid. He had to know that Mina could get just as unhinged as Soma did when something bad happened to her. Perhaps in a more delicate, sensible way, but still frantic.

If he could do anything while he was trapped here, at least he could force Arikado’s hand. “Does she at least know what happened to me?”

“Yes,” Arikado replied. “She requested clearance from my employers to visit you, but—”

Soma knew the end to that sentence. “She got rejected, right?”

Black hair fell as Arikado tilted his head. “It is more that you did.”

Another groan escaped Soma. Blackballed again. What was it this time? Was it his irrational way of hightailing it into dangerous areas? How about how he would lose his cool any time Mina was in danger? Maybe even that last millennium he spent waging war against anyone with a cross and a bible at his front door? That could have something to do with it.

For as bad as Arikado was about not answering Soma’s questions, he was far better at addressing those that the young man never asked. “You have performed marvelously during your recent infection. However, we have protocols to follow.” He drew his ankles under his seat, sitting up as straight and tall as any prince. “We would prefer to test your instincts around some of our female agents prior to authorizing any visits from Miss Hakuba.”

Soma just rolled his eyes. “I’ll probably see Julius and Yoko before I pass all of those tests.”

“Most likely,” Arikado agreed.

Well, at least Arikado was being honest. Or, should Soma be worried about that? The only third-party verification he could get at that moment was from the television set. Even that was more concerned about old educational specials or high school dramas. Maybe a week wasn’t forever. Hell, even two weeks would be manageable. It wasn’t like anyone could notice his hair getting any whiter from panic.

Soma sat up, then reached for one of the two drinks Arikado brought. It felt as warm as tea, condensation beading on its sides. He didn’t need to smell it to know what it was. Its scent invaded his nose anyway, jabbing his sinuses with pikes. Blood. Yay. He could only hope that it went down smooth, that he didn’t have to gag down coagulated hunks.

“You know,” Soma sighed, “You could have at least put a celery stalk in it.”

Arikado shook his head. “That would have provided no nutritional benefit to you.”

“At least it would have looked like a Bloody Mary,” Soma laughed. “Just humored me, right?”

“I suppose,” the agent agreed.

Pale fingers took the other drink. Soma cocked his head, confused. Well, there had to be a reason there were two glasses of blood on the tray. But, was Arikado really going to drink blood, too? He hated the stuff. Or, at least, that was what he said. Maybe it was like how some humans hated the taste of water. Just…slightly less hygienic.

Arikado stared at the rim of his glass, his reflection never to be found. “I realize that this is difficult for you, right now.”

“Yeah.” Soma scooted into the corner of his futon. “I’m starving, but nothing’s good, you know? I want something filling. Bread, rice, curry.”

Arikado could empathize all too well with those sentiments. “Though, you may find a serving of curry to be fatal, at the moment.”

Goodie. Soma’s favorite dish was now akin to swallowing hot coals. “Is it weird, Arikado? For a vampire to hate drinking blood?”

“Not in the slightest.” Dark eyes caught his own, their membranes shining in the shadows. “To be honest, I am glad to hear you say that.”

With that, Arikado pressed his glass to his lips. Their milk blue pallor warmed to pink, the blood reaching them from within and without the dhampir’s body. Soma drank alongside him, swallowing both blood and his pride. He trusted Arikado. He knew the source of this blood had to be collected in an ethical fashion. Perhaps he was in no condition to be demanding that his food was fair trade and locally sourced, but it was better he got it from a willing donator than some random stranger in a back alley.

Soma smacked his lips, clearing a bitter buildup on his tongue. “You don’t have to drink this with me if you don’t want to.”

“I understand.” Arikado lowered his glass to the floor, cupping it like a coy debutant. “However, I think it would be for the best that I dined with you until we rectify your situation. At any rate, I want to know that you are receiving proper nutrition.”

“I appreciate it, but really. I know you hate this.” Soma waggled his drink. “Get yourself, like, I dunno. A salad? Soup? Maybe some crackers? Whatever you eat.”

Arikado nodded again. “I also know how it feels to smell something that you cannot eat.”

Oh, man. That feeling was the worst. Even when he could eat normal food, there were days when Soma was plagued by that feeling. Chicken roasting in the stalls of street vendors while he was on his way to classes. Hamburgers wafting from the university cafeteria as he walked home. Butter, garlic, cheese, salt. He wanted them all, no matter how bad they were for him. Excess calories used to be his only worry. Now, what he wanted could literally kill him.

“This situation is isolating enough,” Arikado murmured. “The last thing I want to do is aggravate you with the scent of food on my person. Therefore, I think it would be wise for me to forgo other consumables, for the time being.”

Soma’s eyes widened. “A blood only diet? Really? Are you sure about this?”

“You do not have a choice in the matter,” the dhampir pointed out. “It would be cruel to torment you with my presence if I were not doing the same.”

Arikado spoke more truth than Soma liked to admit. Vampiric senses were already driving him nuts. He could smell bleach in the bathroom from cleanings weeks ago, creamer on the breath of other agents, milk and blood and things he probably shouldn’t be able to smell on a normal human. Deodorant was annoying, perfume overwhelming. Even worse was Arikado’s scent. It was familiar, reassuring—a snapshot of Dracula’s DNA. That of his wife. That of bodies long lost braided together in their offspring.  

With a single palm, Soma rubbed his cheek. No wonder Arikado’s employers wouldn’t let Mina visit him. Even someone as clean as Arikado still bore a benign body odor—triggered memories from a mind that wasn’t his own. At least he had the strength of spirit to fight them. Few vampires could.

Soma buried his nose in his drink once more. “Thank you.”

Arikado bowed his head. “I just wish I could do more.”

“Well…” Lifting spirits drew Soma out of his glass. “Maybe you could.”

The dhampir arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Could you…” It was hard for Soma to articulate his request. “Your cellphone…my TV. Can they…you know. Sync up?”

“I should be able to do that,” Arikado nodded. “Would you like to watch a video?”

For as pale as he was, Soma could still beam. “Yeah. I'd…I’d like to watch a sunrise.”

Arikado blinked.

“I-I mean, assuming it wouldn’t kill me or anything,” Soma stammered. “Like, I don’t think the TV is capable of throwing that many lumens or anything. Right? At least, I’ve never heard of a vampire being killed by a TV.”

“It will not be a problem.” The dhampir tapped on his phone, pulling up a streaming service. “I am just mildly surprised at your request.”

Soma grinned, melting into his futon. “You know how it goes, right? It’s always when you can’t do something that you want to do it.”

Seeing his friends. Eating curry. Spending moonlit nights with lovers long lost. Even just watching the sun rise. For as threatening as Soma was, he felt powerless. The only mercy he had was from a man who had killed him two times in the past. But, he wanted Soma to recover. So did old enemies, new allies, even bureaucratic strangers hovering outside of his containment center.

Vampire and dhampir folded together, staring at the sun through the safety of humanity’s technology.

[supervalor]

Lose You To Love Me [Fanfic, one shot]

Title: Lose You To Love Me

Pairings: None (implied Karamel, mentioned Kelly/Alex)

Summary: Lena crosses a line and Kara realises that their friendship isn’t what she thought it was. Warning: Though Lena is in character, she doesn’t get redeemed. The writers did say it was a Luthor/Superman story.

Lose You to Love Me

“You got off on the hurting when it wasn’t yours”

“This dance was killing me softly, I needed to hate you to love me”

Lose You to Love Me – Selena Gomez

 Kara knelt on the floor, crippled with pain from the kryptonite cage that she was currently trapped in, courtesy of her former friend Lena Luthor. Oh how she had wanted to believe that the CEO had been misguided, that she was blinded by the pain from Kara’s betrayal. She wanted to think it was just a blip, a stumble that Kara could save Lena from herself from before it was too late. Now she knew she was wrong. She had so badly wanted to save her friendship, save the woman that she had been so close to previously but now she was finally being forced to accept that Alex was right. Lena was beyond her help now. Still, she had to try to get through to her at least one more time or she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

“Lena, stop…you don’t…have to do this”, the blonde panted through the agony.

Cold green eyes glared at her from where she stood by her machine that was filled with an altered version of myriad. Of course myriad would never affect Kara which was why, as Lena had explained to her earlier, she had made a trap to keep Kara from preventing the launch. “I’m saving the world. You should be grateful. I’m a hero, Kara. I’m not hurting anybody, I would never do that”.

The worst thing was that Kara knew that Lena honestly believed what she was saying. But from everything she knew about her older brother, Lex had been the exact same way. In his own mind, he was the hero. “Please, Lena. Mind controlling the world, stripping people of free will, their ability to make their own choices…it’s slavery, it’s not saving the world, it’s imprisoning it”.

“People’s ability to make free choices has led to violence and death and pain and betrayal. I’m saving people from themselves” Lena snapped. “I’m removing those urges. They will be honest, kind, good…there will be no more evil, no more crime, and no more war. The world won’t need Supergirl anymore”, her dark painted lips twitched upwards into a smirk as though the idea of making the heroine obsolete was pleasing to her.

“And you…are you going to be part of this mind hive?” Kara winced as she stumble into the kryptonite infused bars and crumpled over.

“Someone has to make sure that the control holds. I made myself immune to the process”.

Kara forced herself to pull herself up despite her pain and look her once friend in the eyes. “And…what will you do about me? You can’t control me, myriad doesn’t work on me and I will never allow you to get away with this. I know you think this is for the best but making the world into your own mindless drones, taking away their ability to think for themselves, their imaginations…you’re going to strip away everything that is good about human beings!”

“You raise a good point”, Lena ignored the rest of Kara’s speech and sat down on a stool in front of her work station. “I…I don’t want to hurt anybody, that was never my intention. I made it a point to not kill a single person. Heroes don’t kill after all. However…if I let you be, you’ll figure a way out of that cage…I know you will. I’m not Lex, I’m not stupid enough to underestimate you. And then you will get in the way. That makes you a bad guy. You want to prevent world peace…I’m going to have to do whatever it takes to stop you”, Lena mused out loud, a gleam coming into her eyes and Kara’s heart dropped to the floor. “You have to die. It’s the only way”.

“You’re going to kill me? After everything?” tears filled Kara’s eyes as it settled in once and for all that her friend was gone. In front of her was a Luthor, one just as dangerous and delusional as Lex. There was nothing Kara could do to stop her. She had been pleading with her for hours ever since she fell into her trap, trying to get through to her. It hadn’t worked. And no one knew where she was to save her. They were in a secret underground lab that Lena had borrowed from her brother.

A somewhat apologetic expression came over Lena’s face. “It’s the only way. I don’t want to kill you but I have to. If you would only stand down…but then again, I couldn’t trust that you would mean it”. The black haired genius walked over to a vault in the wall and typed in the code. She pulled out a black case and put it out on her work station. Opening the case, Kara saw a gun and a green bullet. Her heart began to beat rapidly as she realised what it was.

“Good thing that Lex always keeps one of these in every one of his secret locations”.

“Lena, please!”

“I’m doing this to save the world. It’s the only way”, Lena lowered the bars of Kara’s cage but Kryptonite remained in a circle around her, preventing her from trying to escape or fight Lena. Kara remained on her knees, pain flooding every single cell in her body. Her blue eyes landed on the gun that her friend turned murderer was holding and the way it was pointed straight at her head. In that moment, Kara knew that she was going to die. She closed her eyes, not wanting the image of Lena, the person she thought was her best friend, holding a gun at her to be the last thing she ever saw.

BANG! A shot rang out but Kara felt no pain, to her surprise. She opened her eyes to see the gun on the floor, the green bullet in pieces and Lena on her knees. “Alex!” Kara exclaimed, shocked to see her sister in front of her with a rifle in hand. The red head gave her sister a worried look before glaring back down at Lena as DEO Agents filled the room, fully armed.

“How did you know to find me?!”

“We got a note from the future with these coordinates, warning us that you were gonna die tonight if we didn’t come”, Alex glowered at the unrepentant Luthor glaring back at her.

Kara blinked in confusion. “Wait…what?”

“The note appeared out of nowhere, unsigned but I recognised Mon-El’s handwriting. Thank goodness he sent us that or you…you’d be dead by now. Lena was going to kill you”, Alex’s eyes filled with tears. “I nearly lost my sister”.

“I’m sorry Alex. You were right. I thought…I thought I could get through to Lena…but the friend I knew is gone…if she ever existed in the first place”, Kara looked one last time at Lena but the woman wouldn’t meet her gaze. Alex helped her out of her restraints and removed the kryptonite so she could stand before turning back to their former friend.

“Lena Luthor, I’m placing you under arrest for kidnapping and the attempted murder of Supergirl. You are also under arrest for conspiracy to harm billions of civilians with stolen technology”.

Kara looked away as Alex cuffed the L-Corp CEO and handed her over to a team of agents. She watched as Lena was led away, feeling a large lump form in the back of her throat. All this time she had been feeling this helpless sense of guilt, taking the full blame of Lena’s decisions and actions onto her own shoulders but now she knew that it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t force Lena to do any of these things. She had been doing shady stuff behind her back for years, long before she felt betrayed by her. The only thing her finding out she was Supergirl had done was force her dark side into the light.

“I’m sorry, Kara. I know you didn’t want it to come to this”, Alex swung an arm around her shoulders as tears began to leak out.

“I didn’t but you were right. All of Lena’s actions are Lena’s, I didn’t force her into any of it and all this guilt will do is weigh me down and affect the decisions I make and I don’t want to live like that anymore. I mean I broke the law for her because I felt guilty and wanted to make it right. I should never have done that. It’s time that I accept our friendship is over and Lena is not the person I thought she was…I hoped she was”.

“You did what you could. You’re the paragon of hope, remember? You held out that same hope for Lena. Don’t ever lose it. It has made a difference, it has saved the world even and though it couldn’t help Lena it’s one of the best things about you. It’s your greatest super power”.

“Thank you, Alex. I needed to hear that”, Kara held her sister tightly before flying them both back to the DEO to write down their reports of what had occurred…or almost occurred.

 Three Years Later

 It had been a while since Kara had seen her. As she stood outside of the large prison, she took a deep breath. Quite a lot had changed since their showdown where Lena had almost managed to kill her. Kara’s long blonde hair had been chopped into a wavy bob, the fringe was gone and she had left her job at Catco. Alex had married Kelly and the two of them were talking about adopting. Kara was happy for them and she hoped that she would be able to come back and visit her niece or nephew at some point.

She was officially leaving National City. At least National City of 2023. Superman would be taking over full time with the justice league as the resident heroes of Earth 38, present time and she was heading to the future to help the Legion since they were down a few heroes and there were too many threats for the team to manage on their own. And besides from that…she wanted to be with Mon-El. He had been coming back for visits sporadically ever since the note he had sent had saved her life and they had reconnected. She was looking forward to giving them a real chance.

But first…she needed to see Lena one last time. For the past few years, Kara had been harbouring feelings that came dangerously close to hate. After all, she had been stabbed in the back, used and gaslighted into thinking she deserved it several times by someone she cared for and found out that the woman was willing and capable of killing her. Kara had struggled to get over pain and hurt that had lingered and now she was ready to just put it all behind her and move on.

Kara went into the prison, gave them her ID and was led to a visitor’s room. A little while later an orange clad Lena was brought in and seated across the table from her. “Supergirl…what do I owe this visit?” she smirked at her sardonically with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “It’s been a while…”

“I came to tell you that I’m leaving National City” Kara replied calmly. “I know you are due to be released in less than two years but I’ll still be around for visits. And then there’s the Justice League and Superman…they will be keeping an eye on you when I can’t…but what I really want to say is that I have hated you for a while now”.

Lena barely blinked at this admission. “You did more than just betray me with lies, Lena. You tried to kill me, you physically and emotionally hurt me and all while I thought we were friends. But I realised that holding onto hate isn’t doing me any good. I’m better off without you, I realise that now, but I also don’t hate you anymore. You don’t get to have that power over me. I forgive you for everything that you did but I’ll never forget and I would never trust you again ever.  I just don’t want to be burdened with these feelings that are just holding me back in every way”.

“Are you done?” the other woman asked, coolly, not moved in the least.

“That’s all I came here to say”, the superheroine confirmed as Lena looked at her curiously.

“Where are you going? I thought National City was your home”.

“National City is my home. Just not in the right now. I’m going where I’m needed”.

“Will I ever see you again?”

To Kara, it almost sounded like Lena cared but it was a little too late for that.

“I hope not”.

With that said, Kara stood up and walked out of the room, not looking back even once.

[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan Groff decides we should take advantage of what might be New York’s last suitable night for al fresco dining in 2019. He sits down at one of a dozen empty tables outside the otherwise packed Hell’s Kitchen bistro and announces, in a tone suggesting more mischief than regret, that he must first make a call.

"Hello," he says, iPhone now at his ear. "Joel Grey?"

Groff is starring in a limited revival of Little Shop of Horrors, and it is a very hot ticket. The Broadway legend on the other end of the line has apparently thrown a Hail Mary in hopes of scoring seats to the night’s sold-out performance. Hamming up this exchange for my amusement, Groff is game to play broker for the Tony and Oscar winner who originated the role of Cabaret’s tuxedoed emcee — and, maybe, anybody else who has his number.

"This is basically my part-time job," says Groff of fielding requests, jotting down credit card information and negotiating pickup times and locations for friends both famous and civilian. "It was the same thing when I was doing Hamilton," he adds of his year playing King George III in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop history lesson. "But I was really only onstage for nine minutes during that show, so the tickets were probably full-time."

The 34-year-old actor seems eager to please, not unlike current alter ego Seymour. Little Shop’s nebbish, sweet and ultimately doomed florist nurtures a manipulative plant even as the pet’s homicidal tendencies grow more and more apparent. Those familiar with the campy musical comedy know that it suffers no shortage of blood, but it’s a nursery rhyme compared with Groff’s recent work on truecrime thriller Mindhunter. Playing a curious FBI agent in David Fincher’s Netflix series has perhaps done more for his ascendant profile than anything yet. But two seasons on the drama have meant two nine-month stints in Pittsburgh, filming interrogation scenes with character actors who bear uncanny resemblances to famous serial killers.

So even on a two-show day like this late- October Saturday, the rigors of theater are easy work for Groff. Over a couple of hot toddies, in between humoring three smitten waiters at the restaurant at which he’s been a regular since Little Shop went into previews down the block, the actor appears to be in his element. "Theater is such a communal, familial medium and interactive experience," notes Groff, who says he recognizes faces in the crowd during most performances. "Mindhunter, for me at least, is a very private experience."

Groff plays against type on Mindhunter. Wide-eyed with an almost perpetual grin, his is a mug you wouldn’t be surprised to find in an illustrated Merriam-Webster — cozied up to the entry for "baby face." Much of his previous acting career leaned into this, starting with his breakout. The Pennsylvania native came to New York at 19 and landed the lead in the musical Spring Awakening by the time he was 21. "I was just auditioning for the ensemble of Broadway shows," says Groff. "I hadn’t really developed the taste to appreciate something like Spring Awakening until I was in it."

New York’s "It" Broadway show of the aughts, the rock opera about sexual discovery among 19th century German teenagers earned Groff his first Tony nomination. He spent two years in the production before leaving in 2008, at the same time as friend and co-star Lea Michele, to pursue film and television. The work that immediately followed — Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, a recurring spin on Michele’s Fox hit Glee, a supporting role in the second season of Kelsey Grammer’s cult drama Boss, voicework in Disney $1.3 billion smash Frozen (he’ll reprise his role as Kristoff in Frozen 2, out Nov. 22) — got him on the radar for vehicles of his own. When HBO began casting Looking, its 2014 dramedy about a group of gay friends navigating an evolving San Francisco, Groff was soon tapped to front the series.

"He will search for the best version of every scene and will work until everyone drops," says Looking executive producer Andrew Haigh, who cast him as Patrick — boy-nextdoor- ish, like the actor, but privileged and problematically fickle. "He is also wholly unafraid to be vulnerable onscreen."

Looking lasted for only two seasons and a wrap-up movie, and its premature demise allowed Groff to do Hamilton, which he joined while the show was off-Broadway in early 2015, and then made the jump to Broadway. His supporting part as the aforementioned royal — with interstitial lamentations for the seceding Colonies, sung like a lovelorn (and supremely pissed) Davy Jones — earned Groff his second Tony nomination. But Groff wasn’t long for Hamilton, either. He was circling his next TV project, a moody prestige procedural about the early days of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, based on the 1995 memoir Mindhunter by criminal profiler John E. Douglas.

"I’m not naturally a true-crime person. So reading the book, I was like … 'oh, fuck,' "says Groff of John E. Douglas’ memoir 'Mindhunter.'

Mindhunter, the book and the series, delves into the morbid minutiae of notorious murder cases with an emphasis on interviews between law enforcement and criminals in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Groff was in contention for the role of FBI agent Holden Ford, based loosely on Douglas. First, he had to prove to director and executive producer Fincher — a filmmaker long admired by Groff, who says he has "a boner for his brain" — that a jovial Broadway star most widely known for singing with a reindeer in a Disney cartoon could have the upper hand with serial killers.

It was not Groff’s first audition for Fincher. Seven years earlier, he was in the running to play Napster co-founder Sean Parker in The Social Network. "My agents said, 'You have an audition in L.A. with David and Aaron Sorkin,' " Groff recalls. "If you get it, you start rehearsal the next day, so pack your suitcase for two months. They really like your tape, but they’re also considering Justin Timberlake." The part went to Timberlake.

"I did not feel then — and still don’t — that he had the inherent venality for that role," Fincher says of Groff. "He is as decent and sensitive as anyone I’ve ever met."

If venality is off the table for Groff, darkness is not. And though casting the song-anddance man was a source of curiosity for some in Hollywood before Mindhunter’s 2017 debut, the finished product didn’t elicit any skepticism from critics. Over the first season, Groff’s character goes from eager, milkdrinking company boy to a shell of the man introduced in the first episode. He alarms colleagues with the way he mirrors serial killers, until he has a panic attack after getting a bear hug from a necrophile. The second run, equally well reviewed after its August debut, saw a somewhat recovered Holden sit down with Charles Manson and, for the dramatic fulcrum of the season, investigate the Atlanta child murders of 1979-81.

"It is so impossibly bleak that I don’t think about it while I’m doing it," says Groff, who confesses he finds watching the show more affecting than making it. "All due respect to people who feel like the character is inside of them or whatever, but I don’t have that. I would leave set, listen to Beyoncé, and that was it."

After an hour and a half in his company, Groff reveals himself as a Lucille Ball historian, an avid bike rider, a devout New Yorker and someone who doesn’t seem easily bummed out — except when the conversation turns to success. His excitement over landing Mindhunter, he says, was immediately diluted by a pang of sadness. "Whenever something really great happens, it makes me feel a little bit depressed," he says. "It’s like, this is never going to get better than this moment right now. I’m sitting in David Fincher’s office and he’s giving me this role."

Talk of a third season of Mindhunter is on hold while Fincher focuses on his next feature. But the director did take a recent break from Mank, a biopic on Citizen Kane screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz, to attend Groff’s first Little Shop matinee with wife and fellow Mindhunter executive producer Céan Chaffin. It was a surprise appearance, but only because Groff hadn’t been checking his text messages. "I’m not good at my phone," he admits.

Groff has not looked at his phone since that one call — which, while polite, now has him in danger of running late for curtain. He breaks the bad news of his immediate departure to one particularly adoring waiter, and we walk to the stand where his bike is locked. There, he pulls from his bag a cobalt helmet that could double as Tron cosplay. Bars of blinding LED lights on both its front and back, his headgear tells cabs to get the hell out of the way and signals to everybody else that this is a man who values safety over subtlety.

"Yeah, I do really love riding my bike in the city … I’m just not that hard-core," Groff says of the helmet before encasing his tousle of sandy chestnut hair for the one-block ride to the theater and an expectant Joel Grey. "My mom bought this for me."