#they had tacked up before us! they should’ve led the search!

[captcas]

exile

exile by capthamm

it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it, holdin' all this love out here in the hall...  i can see you staring honey, like he's just your understudy

part four of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series 

Killian ignores the look of pity etched across Robin’s face as he pours another shot. Robin’s stern looks are just another reminder that his life has turned into a literal three ring circus.

Alright, not a literal one but his point remains. He just wishes he was playing the part of ring leader and not the sad clown.

Killian’s train of thought is derailed at the sound of her voice. He can’t tell what she’s saying, and against his better judgement he glances towards where she sits. As she places her hand on his shoulder, Killian swears the same spot on his own burns white hot. It’s then that he slams the shot, the rum no longer burning as it coats his throat, as he catches Robin shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

Pathetic.

As Killian gets up to leave, Neal shoots him a grateful look while she’s distracted by something on her phone. He grimaces in response and attempts to tune out Neal’s carefully rehearsed line as he pushes on the door of the old pub.

“Neal, I can't dance,” she protests. “Nonsense, there's only one rule, pick a partner—“

The door slams but Killian’s mind is apt to finish the sentence on it’s own— he is the one who came up with it after all.

Disgruntled, he shoves his hands in his pockets and begins the cold walk home, leaving his car to be retrieved in the morning once his libations wear thin— assuming he lets them. His mind can't help but wonder what other tips Neal used on his date with Emma tonight. He had advised his old friend not to use them all in one evening, but chances are Neal will be knocking on his door in the morning wondering what the next steps are and how Killian would go about taking them.

How in the hell did he end up here?

Two months ago, it would’ve been Killian in that booth, Emma’s hand lightly touching his bicep as conversation flows easily between them. As quickly as it began, their entire thing came to a screeching halt. Before he could fathom what happened, Neal was at the docks begging Killian to help now that Emma finally asked him out.

He’d never suffocated before but he’s positive it’d feel startlingly similar to the pain he felt as he processed what Neal had said.

Fourteen days. Five kisses. Two secret dates. That was all he got with Emma Swan before she decided (much like many other women in his life) that he was better left a friend than loved as more. If they’re even friends anymore. He can’t say he blames her, he just wishes he knew why. Their friendship had always developed with ease, many of their mutual acquaintances supposedly taking bets for how long it’d be until it formed into something more. No one won, because no one even knew it happened. Not to mention Emma and Killian moved at their own pace and waited 16 years after meeting to give it a go.

Her pinky wraps with his, “Promise me we are friends first and that I have a clean out if you are an awful kisser.” “I promise, Swan, that we are friends first, and also that I am most certainly not an awful kisser.”

She slaps his arm with her other hand as she squeezes her pinky tighter. They may be approaching thirty years of age, but pinky promises hold the same weight as they did at twelve. She rolls her eyes, “Uh huh, sure. We’ll see about that, KJ.”

It’s practically unfathomable to him that their promise was less than three months ago and yet everything has changed. He always thought he knew Emma better than he knew himself, but her dismissal of him proved to be a massive blindside, no warning in sight.

Worse was the lack of return to their normal friendship and the subsequent breaking of their initial promise, but he probably should’ve expected something like this. Emma is an enigma. Beautiful, and funny, and driven and strong, but also a bloody mystery.

For fourteen perfect days he thought they may finally get their shot at what he'd hoped would be something brilliant. But brilliant was not in the cards for Killian— it hadn’t been most of his life and it seems, when it came to his feelings for Emma, it would be no different.

Now it’s her and Neal and it has been for the better part of a month and a half. The kicker is, it’s all thanks to Killian. Neal couldn’t charm a girl to save his life and wasted no time in resorting to asking Killian for guidance. Little does he know, Killian’s head over heels for the woman he’s trying to swoon.

Details.

He helps craft text messages and gifts as well as aids in the planning for their numerous dates. Killian pulls from the depths of his love for Emma, because all he really wants is for her to be happy. He’d hoped that he’d play a part in that equation one way or another, and while he supposes he does have a role, he never would’ve guessed it would be in this way.

While he remains lost in thought, he somehow finds himself back at his flat. As he ascends the old staircase, he has to catch himself from tripping up the top step. He can’t help but be distracted by the woman sitting against his apartment door.

“Took you long enough, KJ.” She smiles at him and it sparks emotion in him he didn’t realize he was harboring. It seems over a month of watching her fall for his carefully coached understudy has finally gotten under his skin. How can she smile at him as though nothing has changed?

Tempering his anger, he answers her a shrug. She seems to get the message and moves out from in front of his door as he looks down to search for his key.

Bloody hell.

Robin insisted he leave his car keys– with no argument from Killian– but he had forgotten to remove the flat key from his ring. Defeated, Killian leans his head forward until it connects with the cool wood of his front door. For a moment he forgets he’s not alone, the small buzz of alcohol messing with his usual tack sharp retention, but soon Emma is digging in her purse and pulls out the spare key he gave her long before.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Killian.”

“Calm down, Swan, I’m not proposing you move in. I just want you to have it in case of emergencies.”

She shrugs and he’ll be damned if there wasn’t a slight hint of disappointment in her eyes. “Fair enough. Call me next time you’re too drunk to remember to take your key ring.”

He shakes the memory from his head as Emma unlocks the door. Killian continues inside and she waits, hesitating in the frame of the door. “When did we get like this, Swan?” He winces as the words leave his mouth, but the damage is done. Apparently rum effects more than his short term memory, leaving his carefully placed filter seemingly full of gaping holes.

At first she looks taken aback, but she must reason that she deserves this on some level because she sighs deeply and answers his pointed question, “I broke the pinky promise.”

That was not what Killian was expecting, but he answers all the same, “Aye, I s’pose we both did.”

Emma shakes her head. “KJ– Killian… you and I both know that’s not true.” Killian starts to interject but she continues before he gets the chance, “You’ve put me first since the moment we met, and even more so over the past month. Even after I just… I just feel so stupid to not have seen it before now…”

Emma trails off and Killian wraps his mind around what she’s saying– it doesn’t take long for him to realize that she knows. “How?” He meant for something more profound or curious, but the words escaped him– anything polysyllabic seeming near impossible to comprehend.

Emma rolls her eyes, but he can tell the annoyance is not directed at him. He can always tell when it comes to Emma– that’s why he was so certain they were made for one another. “Neal asked to pinky swear that I’d go on a date with him next week and apparently you didn’t know I reserved those just for you. Not to mention the glare you gave him back at Sherwood’s probably could’ve killed someone. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together...”

Killian didn’t know pinky swears were reserved for him, but to be honest, he didn’t know anything Emma did was reserved for anyone. Emma Swan is a firecracker set off in the middle of January. She lights her own path and kicks down her own doors. Fierce independence is the first trait that always comes to Killian’s mind, most likely a product of the absolute shit life she led growing up. She never let it phase her. The admiration he holds for this woman is leaps and bounds beyond what he thought capable for any one man, yet she stands here today starting an awkward conversation and standing her ground and he couldn’t be more entranced.

He loves her.

“You broke your promise.” That’s certainly not what he wanted to say, but he supposes just because he’d walk through fire for her, doesn’t mean the pain won’t linger.

“I was scared, KJ.” He scoffs, he doesn’t mean to, not really, but he knows Emma doesn’t get scared. She’s as fearless as they come.

“You don’t get scared, Emma.” She flinches at his use of her real name but recovers quickly.

“Hah,” Emma laughs sarcastically. She seems to think he’s kidding but he can tell the moment she recognizes the sincerity of this moment. She whispers, “You terrify me, Killian.”

His heart breaks a little and with its crack, the flood gates open; the anger that washes away bringing to light all that he’s been denying for the better part of 16 years. He’s scared of her, too. Scared she could do real damage, scared she could break him to the point of no return, but Killian is a risk taker. He always has been, especially if that risk involves Emma Swan. He thought she was a risk taker too, but she chose to play it safe.

Because she feels the exact same way.

It hits him like a tidal wave, and he says the first thing he can think of, “I could never hurt you, Swan.” He hopes she can hear the conviction in his voice, his words ringing truer than any he’s spoken before.

“Most people who fall in love don’t intend to hurt one another, Killian.” He realizes what she’s saying but he can’t help but get hung up on one word:

Love.

She loves him. She may not know it yet, but she does. That’s enough for him to try.

He steps forward, every inch with less hesitation until they’re standing toe to toe. He can smell remnants of the bar on her, but it’s mixed with her comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he’s come to recognize as his favorite. He’s positive he still smells like a barrel of Captain Morgan, but the buzz he feels is no longer from the rum. (Apparently emotional revelations are a quite sobering.)

“I’m all in, Swan.” He pauses. “Please don’t push me away.”

She doesn’t look at him, but he feels her fingers brush the hem of his vest and he can’t stop the shiver that rushes up his spine. It only intensifies when she speaks, “I can’t promise I won’t run again.”

“Aye,” he gently grabs her chin, urging her to look him in the eye, “but I promise, so long as you want me, I’ll be there to chase you and bring you home.”

She smiles brightly and starts to lean in for a kiss before stopping abruptly and raising her pinky to eye level, “Pinky swear?”

Killian can’t help but laugh as he once again connects his pinky to hers, “Pinky swear, Swan.”

[slothgiirl]

Y/N AND HARRY STYLES SOULMATE AU PART 3

It's been a month and you’re pretty sure that Harry’s your soulmate. It's stopped itching after that day, when you'd run into each other at a coffee shop. It had already been lucky to run into someone twice in a city of millions, and your luck hadn't held up.

While the letters on your wrist are still pretty blurred, you can make out the H and S, his initials.

You hadn't told anyone either, wanting to keep it a secret. It felt wrong to go about telling people when you hadn't had a chance to talk to the man himself. Not really.

It made for good material to work through in your art studio hours. All the worrying and what ifs and thoughts running through your head as you thought about reaching out on instagram in the hope that it would somehow get to him.

But then you didn't. Not wanting to have to explain and talk to whoever on  his team...of his people, handled that sort of thing.

Many celebrities got people claiming to be their soulmates. Hopefully young girls and boys who really wanted it to be true, who wanted their idols or celebrity crush to be theirs.

Or maybe you were just being old fashioned and letting things happen as they're meant to instead of blasting it on social media like some people did now, counting on the millions of people on social media to connect them.

It didn't matter.

You were fine with just seeing what happened. London wasn't that big. And you were still pretty young. And it might not be him.

Even though you knew in your heart that it was.

Between school, and work, and the little art our able to get done, you collapse in your apartment, Lydia already setting on your couch in a pair of sweats and old t shirt that might be yours actually now that you think about it.

“There's pizza,” she calls out to you, not looking up from her phone, smiling widely as she scrolls, “I think it's cold now but maybe it's like rice where it's less carbs when it's cold.”

“That sounds super fake and cold pizza is really freaking gross.” You utter, having almost died when she made leftover pizza and eggs together like it was an actual breakfast.

“I'm saving the planet by not using the toaster oven technically though.”

You snort, “wow I love an environmentally conscious queen.”

“So about that soulmate mark,” she says, smirking over at you from the couch, easy in your tiny flat while you pop a slice into the toaster oven.

“Don't want to talk about it,” you reply, already feeling the heat rise up into your cheeks.

“But you’re like the first person to get it!” She states, eyes practically sparkling with the idea. She'd never felt the annoying itch that made you scratch until your wrist turn red.

But even then you could feel the butterflies in your belly. It was easy to get lost in the idea of it all.

“Didn’t Pooja and Andy get it when they were still seventeen. Like months after the mark showed up!”

She shakes her head, looking back down at her phone in deep interest, “doesn't count because it happened before we met them. There's so gross together,” she finished fondly, sticking her tongue out.

“I'm going to tell them you said that.” You take a bite out of your reheated pizza, immediately regretting it when the hot steam burns inside your mouth.

“Anyway,” she says, “doing anything next Saturday?”

You shrug, “no. Don't think so. why?” It was your day from school and work. Ignoring all the work you should be doing for your classes. At least your thesis work was next year.

“Just wanted to make sure,” she says nonchalantly, “keep your day clear. We are going out.”

You laugh. There's never a day in which she doesn't want to go out and do something. “Okay. Do I get a say in it?”

“No, lets get lebanese at that one place by hyde park?”

Your mouth is already watering at the thought, “okay. I'm down, especially if we go to Hyde Park right after.”

“Deal,” she says, sitting up, “Now I'm going to go shower for the first time in a week.”

“Lydia that's so bloody disgusting,” you shout after her.

*

You're early. For once you hadn't been held back by anything but your own laziness after a long week. It was nice to have somewhere to be where you actually wanted to be, meeting up with Lydia like you too were still at college.

It wasn't like you'd lived very far from each other back home. And more often than not you'd ridden your bikes around town, resulting in more than a few falls.

You grab a table, order a mimosa while you wait like the semi functional adult you are because ladies who brunch order mimosas or so you've been led to believe. Plus it was bottomless, so it was a steal really.

As long as you drank your heart out. With Lydia you felt safe getting tipsy during daylight hours.

You scroll through your phone, answering texts and send some memes to people you knew were at work. Suckers. Laughing at the group chat for your ethics class now that you finally were actually reading through it. Andy was hilarious as usual.

When Harry walks in, wearing a tigre t shirt and loose pants in a flowery print, more bold than anything in your mainly neutral wardrobe, and raybans.

You swallow, heart speeding up at the weight of him walking through the door like something out of a romcom even though he can't be here for you. It's just a coincidence and yet you've never felt more nervous, the weight of it all lodged in your throat.

Your fingers brush against your mark, soothing the live wire of nerves under your skin.

He's walking towards you. It's unmistakable now but you can't see his expression underneath the black sunglasses. It strikes you as rude, that he hasn't taken them off. The sun's not even beating down hotly today.

You still haven't looked away.  Maybe that's why he's coming over. . .too say hello. Technically you do know him.

People say hello all the time.

“Can I sit down here,” he asks, coming to a stop in front of you, head tilted towards the empty side of the booth.

Predictably, you ramble in shock, “my friend Lydia's coming actually but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you sat here while you waited-are you waiting for someone?”

Harry slides his glasses off, hands still covered in a few large rings that somehow keep from looking overly tack on him. It must be the large hands.

The perfect kind for drawing really.

“Um,” he says, red staining his well defined cheekbones, “actually I'm meeting you…”

You raise an eyebrow, confusion written on your face.

Harry rushes to explain, flustered, “I had-I looked through a bunch of photos of me tagged on instagram and twitter and figured your friend Lydia might have uploaded and tagged me and then really hoped that she had her profile public,” he says, leaning over to you, bathing you both with an air of intimacy that you mirror as you study his features. The earnestness with which he's speaking to you clear in his mossy green eyes, in a way that paint could never mimic.

“and then I sent her a message and explained,” he trails off softly, looking down at his hands for a second, biting the inside of his cheek, searching for the words he needs.

You cover his hands on the table with yours, meeting his gaze head on. There's something so disarmingly kind about him that all that nervous energy you'd felt when he walked in had dissipated.

“Well I explained about what I think is...y'know maybe...it's too forward innit,” he utters, swallowing thickly as he meets your gaze, leaning back and pulling away from you, the warmth of his hands leaving yours. “I should've talked to your first not-not sprung this up on you.”

“No,” you tell him, “I was glad to see you again. Not that I wasn't also really freaking nervous but mostly glad.” The words feel true enough as you say them. So they must be true.

Harry relaxes against the table in relief, chuckling lightly to himself, looking over at you shamelessly, like he can't stand to lose another minute without you. Not when you might be-when you probably are-

You let out a deep breathe, “We should probably talk.” Someone should state it. Get it out of the way because there's no way you came all the way out here without getting one of your favorite dishes in london.

“We should,” he responds with a smile, small and hopeful and god wouldn't it be something if he is! This kind man who remembered you after a concert. Who went around london like any normal person might and didn't that say a lot about what type of person he is when he could be a complete arse given his fame.

“But first I’m going to eat and bore you with so much random bits of my Mayanist research paper I've yet to finish because I'm still pretending that it's not due next week and that time I had a popsicle made from zapote counted as research.” The popsicle had been interesting. The lackluster research results on your subject for this paper was not.  

It had almost made you change subjects. Almost.

There's flecks of caramel in Harry's eyes when the light hits them, laugh lines deep around his lush mouth as he smiles over at you. “Only if you’re alright with me interrupting you with questions every five seconds,” he responds.

You look away, trying to calm down the warmth spreading throughout you from being on the receiving end of Harry smiling at you, not because he was usually smiling, but because he was happy to see you.

It's then that you notice the quick glances over at your table, the awkward hold of phones in hands and remember just who this man across from you is. You press your lips together, resolving to ignore them.

“Deal,” you tell him with a smile, “now I welcome you to share in my ladies who brunch dream before I squish in as much work as I can get through tomorrow.”

He laughs and you smile because that was you. You made him laugh.

*

Harry is easy to talk to, which you knew from that day in the coffee shop and even that night when Lydia had asked for a picture with him and you'd so easily teased him. What you hadn't expected was how easy it was to slip right into that.

No nervousness or strain arose from your impending talk as you slipped on your drink and ate, talking between bites.

You tell him about a documentary you just watched which was more of a string of thoughts, the type to make any cinephile nod in delight. About your latin american culinary research as your paper focused on important plants during mayan times and how they had translated into modern times. “I mean most people the world over had had guava not to mention the super fruit that avocado has become.”

“Who doesn't love a good guac,” Harry muses. “Though as good as guava is there's too many big seeds. Can't hardly-” He stops.

You smirk, “finish the sentence Harold.”

He sighs already laughing to himself, resolved, “can't hardly swallow.”

“That's what she said.”

“Knew you were going to say that.”

He tells you about his recent trip to the states. To a big awards ceremony with Stevie Nicks who it's clear he adores in the way his voice goes soft when he talks about her. “People always tell you not to meet your idols but,” he shrugs, face glowing as he continues, “it's-she's cooler than I could've imagined and such a good person too. She was really great when I wanted to show her my first album. Gave it to me straight.”

You smile, “It's amazing to know that some people are deserving of all the trust and love that people have in them.”

You split the bill without a fuss, merging into the late afternoon crowd seamlessly, a world away from the weird half hidden glances over at you.

You don't know how he does it. It had set you on edge, an edge the mimosa helped dull.

“Want to go to the Natural History Museum,” you ask him, wanting somewhere that might grant some privacy to talk. Hyde park just seemed to open. And the V&A was always so busy.

“Do you know the way,” he asks, glancing down at you.

You nod and lead the way, easily navigating a street over and up, comfortable in the quiet that had descended around you both.

There was enough sun out now in mid april to warm your skin, a nice change after the winter months of layers and layers.

It makes the walk enjoyable. Spring’s and underrated season you think. Too many people get caught up in summer for school holidays and winter because of winter break but spring was where it's at.

“You come here often,” he asks, as you both aimlessly wander around the museum, passing by people too absorbed in the exhibits to look over at the man by your side.

“When I can,” you readily admit, “I still feel so lucky to live so close to so many amazing museums even if the collections were all stolen.”

He snorts, “your professors must love you.”

“Well my greek professor did not so much my lit prof because english lit is all dead white guys that I think are vastly overrated.”

Harry shakes his head, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, “and I want to hear them all no matter  how much I might disagree.”

You grin, “well how boring would it be if we all had the same options? I mean I won't budge on Hemingway but art is a dialogue isn't it?”

“And what dialogue does your art say,” he asks as you step into an empty gallery. You suppose that the bird taxidermy collection is hardly exciting when zoos exist.

“That we should talk,” you respond, turning to face him, intimately close, his chest inches from yours.

“We should,” he says carefully, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, solid and warm and your eyes flutter closed. You breath in the smell of him, like sharp clean leather.

“Is this okay,” Harry asks with great care, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, “yeah, I mean,” you pull away unable to think straight so close to him, turning so that your looking at some long dead puffin. “Did you think I might be-when we ran into each other at the coffee shop?”

You hold your breathe as you wait for him to answer.

Harry doesn't move toward you, sighing as he leans against a wall, chewing over his words, brow furrowed. “No,” he finally says, “I didn't. I just remembered you'd been nice and funny about the whole thing with Lydia and then I ran into you and thought it might be a sign from the universe we're meant to be friends so I figured why not and went over to talk to you. My sister tells me I've always been like that. Friendly. Making friends out of strangers.”

You exhale, smiling as you turn towards him, taken by the severity of his expression. His gaze is fixed on you. “I didn't think-not until later when I was at work and my mark,” you offer, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears, “it seemed like too big of a coincidence. I hadn't really bumped into anyone else who's name starts with an H.”

“You didn't reach out,” he states, void of any rapprochement.

“I wasn't sure how to go about these things and I,” you hesitate, “I was still thinking things over. I mean this is sort of a huge thing.”

The corner of his lips perk up, “can I see it?”

You blush furiously, excitement traveling up your spine, “yes.”

Harry moves towards you, closing the distance between you both. He leaves enough space between you both, a step apart. It feels like too much and yet your glad, you don't want to rush. If he's really yours you want to take your time, to get to know him first and foremost.

You don't even know if he's a morning person. Or if he spreads the cream on scones first or the jelly first.

You can feel his gaze tracking your hands as you pull the sleeve of your right hand down, revealing your soulmate mark.

A blurry but legible Harry E. Styles

[sunkissedjiaer]

Hostage / Jinyoung x Reader

Request: Could you write a Jinyoung x reader that has Jinyoung held captive and the reader is a police officer trying to save him?

a/n: this was very fun to write and I apologize for the wait! Thank you for the request.

Pairings: Jinyoung x Reader

Warnings: minor violence, fluff, and angst(?)

Word Count: 2k

-

You rushed into your Head Quarters, beads of sweat gathering at your brow. You couldn’t believe the call you had gotten, especially since you were tied to the current victim.

“Boss” you shouted as you walked into the office.

Your boss stood from her chair, her eyes filled with concern and her brows creased with thought. Walking over to you she grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. Usually such affection was not allowed in the work scene but your boss was not only your superior but your friend.

“Is it true?” you muttered, your hands shaking.

“Yes” she spoke softly “he is currently being held hostage”

Closing your eyes you took a long deep breath. You had warned Jinyoung that something like this would happen but his acting career was just reaching its peak and him missing the Met Gala would be suicide, even if it meant facing past threats that he had been sent.

“So what’s the move?” you asked

“Well, we have the area where he is surrounded but his holder has yet to respond to our questions. We’ve sent in a negotiator and they’ve talked over the walkies but he just keeps saying that Jinyoung doesn’t deserve anything he has, which is only making things harder”

“This has to be the same guy” you mumbled to yourself

“Excuse me?” your boss piped up “same guy?”

“Yeah, for the past month Jinyoung has been getting anonymous threats and of course he kept me from actually letting anyone know, he kept saying they were empty words.”

“y/n..” your boss muttered “you should’ve said something anyway.”

You nodded, your stomach sinking with regret. Your mind began to race and you felt yourself getting dizzy, slowly you moved for the empty chair seated next to your boss’ desk. Grabbing the arm rests you lowered your self to the cushion and let your head dangle for a moment before sitting up straight.

“What if something happens to him because of me?” you stuttered

Moving slowly towards you, your boss knelt down and eyed you softly.

“Nothing and I mean nothing will happen to Jinyoung, we’ve got the whole team on this case.. I promise he will make it out alive.”

“Yes, alive.. Not completely unharmed.”

-

The next day.

You grabbed the coffee from the desk and sipped at the hot liquid slowly, each sip waking you up from the inside out.

“Zoom in a little on the left corner” you muttered.

Youngjae zoomed in on the place you told him to. Youngjae was the best hacker in the agency, his silent yet noticing eyes made it easy for him to analyze a situation which in return gave him the ability to sit silently and hack things for hours on end, you never understood how he did it but it was amazing to watch.

“That’s him” Youngjae commented, his cursor roaming around the screen making the pixelated image more see-able.

“That’s the suspect?”

“Yeah, we’ve run his face through the system but he doesn’t have any records on hand which means he’s either been clean his entire life or his identity is not real.”

“Most likely a fake identity then” you stated “if he was clean then why would he lash out now? And Jinyoung of all people..”

Your eyes lit up quickly, you looked at Youngjae for a second before dashing out of the room.

“Bye I guess” chuckled Youngjae.

Rushing into an office you threw the door open “hear me out” you stated as you plopped down in front of the desk.

The boy looked up at you, his eyebrows creased with confusion but interest.

“Uh yes?” muttered Jackson

“I think I know who might have captured Jinyoung, who might have been so obsessed to follow through with this plan all these years later.”

Jackson leaned in his interest peaked “okay, are you gonna spill or you just gonna keep me hanging?”

“Chul-soo.”

“Chul-soo?” Jackson repeated

“Chul was a good friend of Jinyoung’s in high school but when Jinyoung got signed for a contract under his current agency for acting Chul was left in the dust but it wasn’t on purpose.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- Jinyoung didn’t have time for Chul anymore, Chul became aggravated. Jinyoung told me once of what happened his last year in High School.” you paused, collecting the things Jinyoung told you. “Chul had sabotaged the graduation but it wasn’t everyone’s graduation just Jinyoung’s”

“Hm, okay, continue”

“Chul had ripped and splattered paint on Jinyoung’s cap and gown hours before graduation. Jinyoung had confronted Chul and asked him why-”

FLASHBACK

“Chul.. why?” Jinyoung asked, throwing the cap and gown onto the floor.

“Because Jinyoung, you got everything I ever wanted and instead of sharing it with me you left..”

“So you thought ruining my things would change that?”

“No” Chul commented “but it would damn well send a message of hatred.”

“I’m still not following your point” Jinyoung said dryly.

“You got the acting career, you got the fame, you got the life, the dreams! Everything that I ever shared with you, you ended up getting”

Jinyoung shrugged apologetically “I’m sorry?- is that what you want to hear Chul? I can’t say I’m sorry to you because I’m not.. The difference between you and me is that I went for those dreams I had and you just watched it happen.”

Chul’s once calmed hands formed into a fist, his knuckles whitening.

“I know that I had forgotten about you at one point, I even forgot about myself most of the time. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.. Things became hectic my career was just taking off..” Jinyoung commented, his eyes staring at Chul with concern.

Chul shook his head and his face grew red from anger

“You don’t even care right now! You probably don’t even care that I ruined your gown you don’t even care about how I feel or that fact that you robbed me of my future!” “Chul seriously, please knock this off- we aren’t children anymore..”

“Park Jinyoung mark my words, you will regret this.”

Without another word Chul turn and ran out of sight. Leaving Jinyoung with his ruined cap and gown, questions still swirling in his head.

BACK TO PRESENT.

“So you’re telling me this guy Chul-soo has had a grudge against Jinyoung since high school?- and it’s all because Jinyoung made something out of himself?”

You nodded.

“Gotta give the guy credit for determination” Jackson chuckled

“Not the time” you stated harshly

“No no you’re right, not the time.”

You and Jackson spent the entire night searching up Chul-Soo to get dirt or in general, anything. What you found frustrated you but it also gave you a lead. Chul-Soo officially went “missing” a year and a half ago which was when Jinyoung had gotten his big break, things were lining up but of course you needed more proof to back them up.

-

You and Jackson walked frightfully fast down the halls, the people’s eyes followed you. Opening the glass door to your boss’ office you threw a file down on her desk, yours and Jackson’s lips curling into well deserved smirks.

Your boss looked up from her laptop, her eyebrows raised with a questioning look.

“Chul-Soo was his name but he now legally or technically illegally goes by an alias known as Darren Kong”

Jackson opened and sat down another file, copies of passports and current bill information along with money trails were in the file, a current picture of Chuls license sat on top of all the papers.

“We got him”

“I’d like to know how you two are so dead-set on this guy” your boss commented “how is he the one?”

“The letters Jinyoung received I kept, we traced them for fingerprints, in doing so we were led to Darren Kong, he had to give his fingerprints over to get a new ID.” you stated proudly

“He may be determined but he’s not very smart” Jackson added.

Your boss immediately stood up “did you find a current address?”

You and Jackson nodded in unison

“Get a team on it now. The quicker you search his place the quicker we can move in on Jinyoung.”

-

You and Jackson snuck up to the old barn, you could see lights were on but you couldn’t see if there was anyone actually there. You rushed towards the front door, waving your hand Jackson and a couple guys rushed over behind you.

“On my move boys” you whispered.

Opening the door you moved in gun aimed, you checked every corner and every room, no sign of Chul.

“It’s empty” Jackson shouted.

You eyed a wall, there was a curtain tacked up, such an odd place for a curtain. Walking over you ripped the curtain off and your eyes grew wildly when you saw the once hidden contents.

“Holy shit” Jackson muttered

Your eyes scanned the many images and map points on the wall.

“He’s been tracking Jinyoung, look here-” you pointed to a tacked up receipt. Jackson grabbed the receipt and brought it closer to his eyes, he scanned the small lettering and sighed.

“This is a receipt for a gun, how in the hell did he manage to get a gun over here? It’s not only illegal to do so but customs should’ve found this through shipping.”

“That means he has connections or he bought it off the market, why would he keep a receipt though?”

“Guys gotta manage his money somehow” Jackson stated.

After leaving the barn with more than enough information to keep Chul locked up for years you and Jackson made a quick stop at HQ.

“We need to make a move tonight” You stated rather rushed “Chul had a receipt for a gun and I have a deep rooted feeling he plans to use it”

Your boss eyed you and Jackson, walking up to you she placed her hands on your shoulders a look of concern covered her face.

“Be careful, I want Jackson on snipe, Youngjae as your eyes and ears, and you’ll be taking Jaebeom as back up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

-

Youngjae led you and Jaebeom to a backdoor through your ear pieces, his voice soft.

“If you take this way it’ll be easier for me to track you guys, it’s also quicker to where Jinyoung is being held.”

You led Jaebeom down the halls, the lights on your guns kept the dark musty halls lit. You could hear the sound of yelling coming from down a nearby hall, pressing your earpiece you spoke softly

“Is that where Jinyoung is?”

“Yes, be careful.”

You quickened your pace and Jaebeom copied. You reached the old rotten wooden door, peeking through the cracks you could see a beat up Jinyoung tied in a chair, his facial features carved with frustration.

“No one is coming!” Chul spat at Jinyoung

“They will be here”

“Who Jinyoung?- WHO!”

“My girlfriend will come and I will get out of here perfectly okay, you on the other hand I’m not so sure.”

Taking the butt of his gun Chul smashed it hard against Jinyoung’s jaw, causing him to hiss and hang his head.

You felt yourself gasp but you quickly breathed in covering it.

“Now” Youngjae spoke from your ear.

Kicking the door open you had your gun raised and aimed at Chul, Jaebeom followed in suit.

“Put down the gun Chul-Soo” you ordered.

“And if I don’t? You gonna kill me?”

“I promise I won’t miss.” you hissed.

Mockingly Chul pointed the gun at Jinyoung’s temple, a snicker escaping his lips.

“I said put the damn gun down!” You barked.

Removing the gun from Jinyoung’s temple he pointed it at you, aiming at your heart.

“Killing Jinyoung would be too easy, everyone would mourn his death, pity his early ended career. If I really want Jinyoung to suffer, I should hit him where it hurts.”

You eyed Jinyoung from the corner of your vision, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Chul-Soo put the gun down now or you’ll regret it” Jaebeom commented.

Chuls finger on the trigger bent ever so slightly the sound of a gunshot fired, the small room echoed with the loud sudden boom.

Falling to the ground in unison you and Chul smacked against the concrete.

“Y/N!!!” Jinyoung screamed the ropes holding him back.

Jaebeom ran to your side, but he noticed no blood coming from the wound. Opening your eyes you grinned “bullet proof vests, they come in handy”

Grabbing you Jaebeom helped you up, relief immediately flooded over Jinyoung. Hesitantly Jaebeom checked the pulse of Chul-Soo, shaking his head Jaebeom looked to you “he’s out cold”

You nodded and rushed over to Jinyoung, untying him as quickly as your fumbling fingers could manage. Once loose he wrapped his trembling arms around you, his breath shaking and his heart speeding.

“I thought I lost you!” he cried softly

“Never baby never” you whimpered into his shoulder.

Jinyoung quickly pulled you into a passionate kiss one you never thought you’d have wanted so badly, but this situation needed one.

You and Jaebeom helped Jinyoung out to the car and bandaged him up, Jackson approached, his gun in a bag slung on his shoulder.

“You good?” he questioned

“All thanks to you” you smiled

Turning to Jinyoung you smiled warmly, the love of your life was okay, everything was okay.

[ashercvans-blog]

moody music - asher & aiden

Basically: Asher gets music lessons from his ex Aiden, but plot twist, he didn’t know he’d be getting lessons from Aiden and they don’t actually go over the lesson.  Warnings: None. ** Occurs before the big Brad and Asher argument.

Asher knew how to play the piano and the trumpet, but he's always wanted to try his hand at guitar. It seemed like everyone and their mother's stripper knew how to play, and he figured he might as well try his hand at it. Besides, Brad was mad at him still, Phoebe was at school, and he had a day off; might as well do it now, was his reasoning. So, because Asher's lazy, Roger Kipton searched for music teachers to send to his son. He had texted Asher a few days ago that he found someone and they'd be over today, so Asher had spent his afternoon tidying up his house, hiding stray pairs of boxers and cleaning the sink, putting Phoebe's toys away and making sure the cat's litter box was clear. First impressions are important, y'know? Asher decided to make cookies, too, for his teacher, because why not. He forgot momentarily that he sucked at cooking, and it was when he was pulling a smoking tray of black cookies out of his oven when the doorbell rang. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, okay," he swore to himself, throwing the tray away and waving a hand in the air to fan away the clouds of smoke. "Coming!" He shouted at the door. "I tried baking and it didn't work so please ignore the s-" His sentence stopped as soon as he opened the door and saw Aiden standing on the other side. If Aiden were to squint, he'd be able to see Asher's soul leaving his body and his palm instantly starting to sweat. What was he doing here? "Um." 

Aiden felt like he should've known what he was getting himself into, except he'd been so busy that thinking about anything more than once until the moment it was about to happen just usually didn't happen. When Roger Kipton of all people had asked him for guitar lessons, he should've put the pieces together; that Asher had wanted to learn guitar but Aiden had never gotten around to teaching him, that Asher's dad probably hadn't moved since the last time he'd gone to Asher's house, and that Asher would probably always be under his dad's wing. It all clicked as he knocked on the door, and then wished he would've realized before he'd knocked so he could just walk away - text Asher's dad and tell him he randomly decided to move again or that he was being arrested so he'd never have to hear from him again. Upon first look Asher looked... downright tired, and flustered. The house smelled like burnt cookies, which wasn't surprising because Aiden had always had to pry a spatula out of Asher's hand. He pushed the thought away immediately. "Uh..." He wasn't sure if both of them not knowing how to react was better or worse. "... Uh..." Still speechless, he held up his guitar case, as if it held an explanation (it sort of did). "You know, uh-." His words were forced and aborted. "This doesn't have to happen, I can just..." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, worrying at his bottom lip. 

"Why're y-" Asher was frowning, eyes watering slightly from the smoke. And then Aiden lifted his guitar case, and while it took Asher a few seconds to piece it together, the moment it happened felt like a train immediately crashed into him. "Holy shit, are you m– no, there's no way my dad would hire you to– what the hell... Um. Okay." Asher pushed a hand through his hair, head canted up to the ceiling as he took a deep breath before looking at Aiden (who was still a few inches taller than Asher to the point that he had to look up at him). "Okay. So. It's been how many years since we've last spoken? Five? Six? Whatever. It's been a fuck long amount of time but we are, like, adults now. Mature adults who can handle this. There is no reason why we can't handle this." It'd be more convincing and maybe even inspiring if Asher's voice wasn't hesitant the entire time. This was his first relationship ever standing across from him. His first love, the second person to ever have sex with him and then the only person to do so for over a year; Aiden was a lot to Asher and always would be. So this was weird, okay? He's justified in rambling. "Come in, I guess." He held the door open, adding, "sorry for the smoke. I wanted to be a good student, or whatever, and make food, but I c– I don't know why I'm explaining myself, you know I can't cook. Point is, I tried." He shrugged, heading past the kitchen and living room and down a few hallways until he got to a spare room with nothing but a piano tucked into a corner and his trumpet case. "We can practice here." 

Aiden's eyebrows went up as he listened to Asher, even though he seemed to be convincing himself more than Aiden at this point. There were a lot of residual feelings that Aiden didn't particularly want to deal with, but him and Asher had gotten along fine until Bryan had barged into the picture and Aiden didn't see a need to be mad at Asher. He'd made a choice, and it'd taken Aiden a while to accept that choice, but the point still remained. Still, he didn't want to be around Asher if it was going to make him uncomfortable. "Hmm, so does that mean you're a teacher's pet?" As he followed Asher inside, shaking his head as he went over to the windows to crack them open so that the smoke would disperse. He glanced around the room Asher led him into, humming as he set his guitar case down, shrugging his backpack off his shoulders. "So, good news is you already know how to read music. Bad news is, you already know how to read music, which means you'll probably be impatient with yourself." 

Asher shrugged, leaving the room to grab two chairs for them. He answered from the other room, "I don't think baking cookies makes me a teacher's pet. Not now, at least. But if I was younger and you happened to be my teacher then, too, then yeah, I'd probably pull out all the stops to impress you." He reappeared with two chairs, both half his size, ungracefully setting them down onto the floor. Asher snorted at what Aiden said, waving him off with his hand. "C'mon, Crenshaw. It's not like playing the guitar is going to be hard or anything. You just hold the thingy and – pull the stringies. Or is it called plucking? Strumming? Whatever. You just touch the little string things and hold the other string things and it works and sounds pretty." Asher had mastered the piano when he was three and the trumpet when he was seven (both facts he had told Aiden before when they were dating – Asher had honestly told him everything about him, from his favorite color when he was eleven to the day's he visited his mom's grave) it was safe to say he was a bit cocky about his musical abilities. 

Aiden hummed, but didn't say he disagreed. Asher would definitely be in more of a tizzy if he weren't talking to Aiden. "Plucking and strumming are different, but both of those, yeah." He smiled in spite of himself; leave it to Asher to overestimate himself. Then again, he wasn't tooting his own horn for nothing. "Alright." He took a seat, cracking open his guitar case and pulling it from the depths, setting it in his lap. "Basic guitar anatomy-" he jumped right in because he had nothing else he wanted to ask Asher about, "body, neck, head, frets, strings, base board." He tapped each part of his guitar as he spoke. "Mostly you work with the frets and strings, sometimes body comes into play. Really only mention the base board because when a string breaks you take the screws out of the base board to change them out. Doesn't happen often, unless you don't know how to tune it and pull the strings too tight." He shifted the guitar in his grip and held it out to Asher. 

Asher was smart. He knew it, people who knew him knew it. He was a chemistry major who made all the big, fancy American universities think he was attending on their full ride international scholarships, only to end up attending Austen's because of Aiden and a baby mama. But now, sitting there, and listening to all this musical stuff had his brain drawing a blank. Music was not like quarks. He blinked, slowly accepting the guitar. And now he felt dumb in front of Aiden, which was embarrassing, and shit, now he was turning red. "Fuck my father, honestly," he muttered more to himself than anything. "Oh, um, by the way," he looked up from the guitar, "can these lessons, like... Stay between us? I know that sounds so sketchy and with that whole Bryan Brad thing I'm sure you've heard about, it doesn't do much to boost my character, but. Brad knows you're my ex and I didn't know my ex would be giving me guitar lessons – which, as stated before, doesn't make me, like, uncomfortable or anything – but you are and I know he's gonna' get, like, super insecure and pissy about the whole thing and I don't want him to have it out for you like he does for Bryan, so. Not that you can't defend yourself or anything. But, like. I mean, doesn't this whole thing remind you of, like, some soap opera type shit? Past lovers reconnect without the spouse knowing?" Asher sighed, tacking on a bit softer, "if this whole thing with me and the shit I always find myself into makes you uncomfortable, or you want out, don't feel bad in leaving. I'll be – it'll be fine." 'Cause truth is, Asher was happy to see Aiden. And yes, he's married, he knows, but Aiden was his first love, okay? And he hasn't seen him in years, even though they left off on an awful foot. Is it so bad that he's simply happy to see him? 

Aiden blinked owlishly, raising an eyebrow as Asher began to ramble. He definitely had heard about the drama going on with Bryan - if Bryan was in the picture there usually was some drama to be had. Aiden didn't want to make things difficult in Asher's marriage. The only thing he'd ever wanted was for Asher to be happy, but hearing him ramble he wasn't sure if that was the case. He wasn't sure if he was mad or upset or what, but he was definitely feeling something. Not at Asher, but Asher's situation. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable. But I don't want to get between you and Brad's relationship, either." Considering the way things seemed to be going, he just might mess things up without even meaning to do so. "... I'll keep it between us if you want, but you really should talk to Brad about it. It'll probably make it worse if he finds out on his own." He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "... It's up to you, Asher. I-..." His feelings weren't important here. Asher was married. He'd been married for a while. "What do you want? I'll pack up and leave right now if you want." 

"No, don't go," Asher immediately objected, clearing his throat soon after and looking back down at the guitar. "It's, y'know," he shrugged, "nice to see you again, is all. This might give us a chance to, like, I don't know, bond? I know last time we talked was rough, so. Maybe we need this, y'know? I can try baking cookies for you again." He looked up at Aiden again, giving him a small smile. "Brad... He might have an issue but don't worry, I'll take care of it if there is. No one's getting punched on my watch, not this time." He was not having another one of his relationships get hit in the face. Asher cleared his throat once more. "What about you? Do you have a special someone who might get a little weird upon finding out you're here with me?" Because last time Asher checked, which was years ago, Aiden was with Evan, and this whole thing was kind of sketchy, after all. 

Aiden chewed back a smile, looking away at the same time Asher did. "Yeah... I wasn't in a great place. I'm sorry about that." He was in a better place - or he tried to be. "Mm... maybe nix the cookies, unless you let me help you." He laughed, and then swallowed it. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was, if Brad was going to have a problem with him being here. It was Asher's and Brad's home. He scoffed a little, shaking his head and trying to find somewhere in the room to look. "No. Single as the day we met." Which was very. "Unless you count my dog, but you probably don't." He pulled out his phone to show Asher his screensaver of Lilo. "She just turned 6." 

Asher waved his hand in dismissal. "No need to apologize. You had your reasons and I should've been more understanding." Where would they be if Asher hadn't been so bitter about Aiden leaving him for Australia? Would Asher have a different last name? For the first time in years, Asher laughed along with Aiden, saying between giggles, "you can help, yeah, that'd be great, but we, and this house, for that matter, would probably be better off with me just handing you the ingredients and whatnot." Asher's smile died as he heard Aiden's answer. Oh. "Oh. I thought you and E- never mind," he quickly scrapped his sentence, because it was none of his business as of now; if Aiden wanted to delve more into the topic, then Asher would gladly listen. The smile returned when he saw Aiden's dog. "Holy shit. What the fuck. She's so cute. Hang on," Asher gently laid the guitar down and hopped off the chair, leaving for a few minutes and then returning with his (technically Brad's) small dog, Charlie, in one arm and his cat, Fuzz Lightyear. "These are my non-human babies. Say hi to Aiden," he cooed, letting them down and watching Charlie immediately scamper to Aiden. "I love how productive this guitar lesson is going," Asher chuckled, sitting back in his chair. But maybe that was a good thing, that they're enjoying each other's company so much that the original purpose for being together has been pushed aside. It's leaps and bounds from where they left off. 

Aiden shook his head. "No. I still need to apologize, trust me." He waved his hand back, huffing out a sigh. "Yeah, that might be best. Don't want to burn the house down or something." With how strong the smell of smoke was in the house Brad would probably thank Aiden later - maybe. It wasn't surprising to him that Asher immediately steered the topic away from Evan, but he shook his head hastily. "No, it's okay. It wasn't dramatic or anything. We just worked better as friends." Himself and Evan had stilled talked for a while, but just didn't have much in common and Aiden did almost nothing so it was hard to talk. And once Evan had moved they couldn't even just sit in companionable silence together. "He's married now! To Andrea, which-..." He shut his eyes, shook his head, then moved on himself. He shoved his phone back in his pocket, jaw dropping open as Asher brought the animals into the room, scooting off the chair to the floor as the dog wiggled over to him. Why he'd initially come was completely forgotten. "Oh, hello! Hi there, buddy!" He let the dog sniff at him and then continued to pet it, minding the cat as it approached him more hesitantly. Then he began to pet the cat too, baby-talking each of them and eventually just lying on the floor as he doted over them. "Oh, shit. Yeah." He cleared his throat, but didn't get up from the floor. 

Asher smiled softly at Aiden's apparent rage at whoever Andrea was, commenting, "I take it that she's not your favorite person." He sat next to Aiden on the floor, not knowing whether to pat his legs like ol' pals might do as he said, "it's okay. You're an amazing, talented, incredible person, one of my favorite people ever despite everything, and it's his loss if he doesn't get to have you." Asher watched, a mix of fond and proud-parent like, as his pets lost their shit over Aiden. He'd take a picture if he didn't think Aiden probably wouldn't like that. "Are you free next week? We can probably do an actual lesson then. And maybe, in the mean time, your dog and my dog can meet and be best pet pals? I dunno', seems like a cute idea to me, at least, and it means we get to spend some more time with each other, too." 

Aiden shook his head. "No. She's just-..." Dumb? Annoying? Anything Aiden had to say wasn't nice, so he didn't really want to say it, especially since he was still cool with Evan. "I think he deserves better, that's all." It was easy to think but hard to explain. He blushed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's fine, peach. Really," he insisted, and then seemed to realize what he said and blushed harder, backtracking; "Ash. Asher. Uh-." Fuck. There went that, he guessed. "Yeah, I'm free. Well... Technically not, since this is supposed to be lesson time, but you know. Yeah." He glanced up at the forgotten guitar, but not for long because the ones were begging for his attention the moment he took his eyes off of them. "I think Lilo would like some friends. I haven't been to the dog park in a while." He felt kind of guilty about it, but he'd been locked up in his flat writing music and aside from just going on simple walks with Lilo and teaching he didn't get out much. 

Asher could only nod to show his support. And then peach came up and, well. It certainly was a surprise, hearing that nickname, and for most people it'd make them feel awkward, but no, Asher started laughing because, "holy shit, I can't believe you called me peach back then 'cause of my ass. That's amazing, Aidennn." Peach was what Aiden called him, and Asher used to always call him by his first name, but would drag out the 'den' and use a sing-song voice. It was effective for when he wanted affection. He scrunched his nose up gleefully at seeing Aiden red, glad he officially now wasn't the only one who blushed horribly in the half hour they were together. "Sounds good. Should we meet here again? Or, y'know, someplace else?" Asher was kind of hoping they'd pick a different location; Brad's work schedule shifted constantly, and Asher never wanted to reach the day where his husband came home to Asher with yet another ex. "They'll have a little doggy date," Asher smiled, reaching over to scratch behind Charlie's ear. "We'll be like proud parents, watching our children and making sure they don't get too touchy. That's what my dad would always do when you came over to ours." 

Aiden hardly resisted the urge to reach over and nudge Asher in retaliation. He shrugged his shoulders up, puffing his cheeks out. "I put you in as the peach emoji in my phone and it just stuck," he explained. It was true enough; the first time he'd actually met Asher and had started dealing to him he hadn't remembered his name, so he'd put him as the peach emoji so he'd remember Asher was the cute guy with the nice butt. He wasn't sure what it was in Asher's voice that made it sound like he was hopeful they'd meet somewhere else. He decided to oblige. "We can do it at my place if you want." He'd have to clean, and organize his stuff so that Asher wouldn't know that he lived like the human embodiment of a trash can - Chinese take out and sheet music and all. "Your dad used to watch me like a hawk. As if I were going to snatch you up and get you into drugs." He winked. 

"Cute," Asher hummed. "You were always 'boyfriend', but in all caps and, like, five hearts. It's embarrassing, thinking back at it now." Aiden was his first, though, so. Asher didn't really know, back then, all the dating ethics and what was cringe-worthy. But he was seventeen, he's practically expected to be weird at that age. "Can you believe that if Daniel had never sent me to get weed from you, we'd probably never have met? Crazy shit, innit?" They would've never met, because Asher and Aiden come from wildly different backgrounds, and Asher would probably have just gone to a different school. It was mind boggling to think about. "Do you still live in your apartment?" While Aiden's apartment was a bit old and in a sketchy neighborhood, it was home to Asher. He spent so many nights there with Aiden, finishing homework together and talking about the future and watching TV and baking food together and then getting baked and having sex. If Aiden still lived in the apartment, it'd be a huge throwback for Asher, walking through the front door again. He'd feel seventeen all over again. "He really did," Asher smiled, lying on his back as he reminisced, "remember when he gave you, like, a two hour speech just on how he expected you to treat me?" Jeez, Roger Kipton was so overbearing on the both of them. He required Aiden's number and texted the both of them constantly whenever they were out with each other, and kept an eye on them in the nearby room whenever they'd chill in Asher's living room or bedroom. Imagine his shock when he found out they weren't using protection. "But he really did love you, y'know. Once we hit one year he honestly considered you part of the family." That is, until they broke up in a heart shattering way. But no need to bring that up. "Loved you enough to probably not kill you as fast if he were to find out you were a dealer." 

Aiden grinned, shaking his head. "No, it's not embarrassing. I think it's cute." He'd been colossally lucky to be with Asher; he doesn't think anyone he's ever met has loved him that much - not in the way Asher loved him, at least. And he'd gone and fucked it all up. He think he'll always be mad at himself about it, but you couldn't cry over spilled milk. He had to live with even the bad choices he made. "Yeah. You came strolling into my shit neighborhood with your expensive shoes. I thought you were going to get your ass kicked for sure." Not that anyone would ever mess with Asher if he was talking to Aiden - he'd lived in that neighborhood for a while and people had learned not to mess with him very quickly. It mostly had to do with his other ex but... he wasn't eager to think about it. "No, I've moved since then. Cleaned up my act, got a real job and a nice place. It has a balcony and everything. And a tub." Those were things Aiden hadn't been afforded growing up, and things he couldn't afford when he'd first gotten his own place with said other ex. "I can send you my new address, though," he nodded. "Mm, I like your dad, though. He really cares about you." It had come out of left-field for Aiden, who grew up pretty invisible except to run to the corner store to get booze. Hearing that Mr. Kipton had thought of him as family tore at Aiden's heartstrings in a way he wasn't prepared for. "Y-yeah..." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as he laid down too, curling up and feeling his heavy heart lighten a little as the cat immediately sat on his face. "God... like, I know I fucked up. But sometimes the weight just resettles on me." He took a deep breath. "You guys were my family, too. I'm so dumb..." He hugged the cat to his chest, burying his face in his fur as he tried to recover. 

"You think everything is cute," Asher countered with a smile, watching as Charlie sniffed at Aiden's feet. He closed his eyes as Aiden talked about their first encounter, remember the whole situation perfectly. He'd been scared shitless, being in a sketchy neighborhood like Aiden's, about to ask some guy he didn't know for substance he had never been exposed to before, only to meet one of the most handsome men he'd ever come across. "We were such opposites yet worked so well," Asher mused, feeling warm and golden and soft inside. It was nice, being away from all the Austen's drama to be right here, talking about the times where he was indescribably happy. Asher's eyes snapped open, though, when he heard that Aiden moved, and he sat up, looking down at him. "You have a tub now?" He gasped, eyes bright because "holy shit, look at you, living all luxuriously! A tub, wow. I'm so proud of you." And it was all genuine; countless times he had offered to buy Aiden a three-story house, anything to get him out of the apartment, so hearing now that he's in a better place honestly made Asher's day. The happiness died down as the mood was brought to a somber, tense tone. Asher frowned, reaching over to squeeze Aiden's hand softly in reassurance. "You're still family," he told him softly, earnestly. "Anytime you need anything, you can come to me or my dad and we'll take care of you, honest. You were my first, Aiden. My first relationship and my first love. Those never leave a person. You'll always have a special place in my heart 'cause of that. My dad will always view you differently than he will Brad because of that. You're always welcome to come home to the Kiptons." 

Aiden pouted, but Asher was probably right. At least a little bit. Asher had always read him really easily, even when Aiden thought he had his walls up. Maybe that's just because Aiden had a bad poker face or something. "Yeah, I remember when you texted me. I was so confused I thought you were high already." He snorted, propped his head up on his hand. Everything with Asher had always been easy - being with him, loving him.. Aiden had to swallow his thoughts real quick. A feeling he didn't particularly want to feel started to bubble in his chest as Asher took his hand, but he squeezed it back anyways, even though he was sure that he'd probably smack himself for it later. "Yeah, a tub," is all he managed, voice still kind of wobbly and quiet. Listening to Asher talk wasn't really helping, but maybe he needed to hear it. With Jaxson always moving around because of her job Aiden had almost no constant in his life but his dog. And he liked it that way sometimes, but he really did need someone else in the picture. "Oh? How does your dad view Brad then?" He snickered slightly, peeking up from his where his face was still buried in cat fur. "Sorry, I'm grateful, really. I just don't feel like crying right now," he laughed weakly. 

"Holy shit, remember the first time I got high?" What a mess. Asher had been fumbling, trying to copy every move Aiden made and not burn himself or drop anything, and within moments, he was high and red-eyed and giggling to Aiden's neck about nothing. Needless to say, Asher loved bragging to his friends about his college boyfriend who was a drug dealer. Asher shrugged, leaning back down on his back. "He views him as a dad would view his son-in-law but, I meant, like– he's not my first, y'know? You are. It goes back to what I was saying, about that whole you never forget your first thing. So if you two were in a room he'd see Brad and view him as my husband, but see you and view you as my first everything, as the standard he set for Bryan and Brad. If that makes sense? I dunno', the smoke from the cookies did something to my brain, I'm sure." Asher smiled softly at Aiden's apology, saying, "it's fine, cry in Fuzz Lightyear's fur if you need to. He's here for you too, y'know." And then, "do you want to bake the cookies now? Cookies make everyone feel better, and I don't like seeing you sad." 

Aiden snickered. "Yeah. You were a mess. I would've helped you if you'd said something." He shook his head, smiling fondly. He also wouldn't have let Asher smoke so much, but it had been too late when he realized all of that. "I'd just assumed you'd smoked before since you knew Daniel." It wasn't an off-base assumption, really. He also remembered one time coming to get Asher from school so they could get pizza and remembered feeling like a huge creep around a bunch of secondary school kids, nineteen going on twenty years old and towering over almost everyone in all his six foot one inch glory. He'd been questioning his choices as a person, really, until Asher came out to meet him. "Mmhmm..." It was weird to hear that term attached to someone concerning Asher - son-in-law - and it felt heavy. So was the fact that Brad was Asher's husband. That was weird, too. He'd dated Asher for a whole year before he'd left, and hadn't thought twice about marrying him. He was too engrossed in other things - too used to people leaving, and too used to leaving himself. They were young, too. Marriage had always felt like something for future him to deal with. But he'd loved Asher. He still did, but it was inappropriate to say it. And unfair. So he said nothing. "Must've set the bar pretty low." He wasn't sure if he was being down on himself or down on Bryan and Brad. Well, maybe not Brad. Aside from being kind of jealous Aiden had nothing against him, even if Brad did have an attitude towards him when they'd first met. "Yeah. Maybe we should just make cookies," he agreed. 

Asher knocked the side of his foot against Aiden's. "Nah. I wanted to impress you." Asher always felt like he had to, because after all, he was a last year who somehow managed to get into a relationship with a college boy; he had nightmares about the day Aiden might realize Asher was just a nerd. Asher scoffed, shaking his head. "Set the bar low?" He repeated, amused. "Aiden, love, I came home after every date and talked to my dad for hours about how much fun I had and about how in love with you I was and how I'd been practicing writing 'Asher Crenshaw'. You gave Bryan and Brad a pretty high standard to match. Don't underestimate yourself, yeah? You're incredible." Sure, Aiden's leaving to Australia was the main cause for their split, but still, he had been a fantastic boyfriend. Asher stood up, brushed off animal fur from the back of his jeans and held his hand out for Aiden to take. "C'mon," he grinned, "let's bake cookies and enjoy each other's company." 

Aiden hummed, smiling slightly and bumping Asher's foot back. "Well, you just seemed silly, instead." It was true. Asher never had to impress Aiden, but it was kind of nice that he'd wanted to. No one had ever gone out of their way for him before at that point. He flushed, burying his face into his arm in embarrassment. "Well, I appreciate you not telling your dad how baked I got you during some of those dates, peach. He would've murdered me for sure." Aiden did really try with Asher; he wanted to do things right that time. Granted, he'd still messed up. But while it had lasted... god. He sighed, detaching himself from the cat and reaching for Asher's hands, pulling himself to his feet. "Okay. Sounds good."

[the-real-narnia]

Ripples, Chapter Four - Juvia

Title: Ripples

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Rated: M for Violence and Swearing

Other Sites: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12477008/4/Ripples, 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831923/chapters/24141621#workskin,

https://www.quotev.com/story/9590597/Ripples/4

https://www.wattpad.com/416541359-ripples-a-fairy-tail-fanfiction-chapter-four-juvia

I currently have up to 109 Chapters posted on any of the above sites; I am currently moving the story over to this one (just in case you don’t want to wait for me to post each chapter).

Chapter Four - Juvia

The next month went by slowly. I had a simple morning routine, in which I would get up, eat, and then go running. The running improved my stamina and my magical energy was starting to expand again as I concentrated on only my movements and my magic.

In addition to that, I read through the entirety of my books on teleportation and location magic, and a bit of requip.

I could maybe (at most) requip something the size of a large wardrobe at my current power level, but hopefully I would be able to get it much larger soon with more practice. In it I carried a bag of toiletries, a first aid kit, emergency money, a spare change of clothes, and some dry food in case it was needed.

The location magic was a bit tricky, but I was able to get it down.

I started by focusing on what I knew. I would use this to help Lucy find keys, and other sorts of magical items if anyone else wanted them. I would also use it to help find people (or more specifically, guild members).

I tested it by looking for Aquarius's key, which was, luckily, in the Heartfilia Konzern.

I tried again with Cancer, and got the same result.

Using the large map covering the wall in my study, I would imbue my thoughts and magic into a thumb tack and then throw it at the wall. I didn't have to worry about my aim or anything (which is good, because my aim is horrible). Even if I aimed for the complete other side of Fiore (while searching for Cancer specifically) the thumbtack still ended up with its pair at the Heartfilia Konzern.

That being said, I knew which person I wanted to look for first, but I needed Cana's help for that part.

"So what do you need me to do?" Cana asked me as we sat under our usual tree in the park. A while ago she had asked me why we didn't go to the guild, and I told her that I had had my reasons, and that she'd see me there sooner or later.

"I already know where she is, but I need to know what she's feeling," I said.

Cana blinked. "What she's feeling? Well, then I guess we'll just try pulling one card, and get more if you feel you need more. I've never done something like this, but if you want to know what she's feeling, you need to think of her in your mind, every single thing you know about her, or else the card will concentrate on you."

"What if I think she's going to feel something?" I asked.

Cana shook her head. "It still shouldn't affect the reading," she said. "Are you ready?"

I nodded and closed my eyes. Cana put her head against mine and shuffled the cards several times, before she stopped and pulled out the one on top.

"The Three of Swords," she said. "If this represents her feeling, then she's probably feeling sorrow, loneliness, and sadness."

I nodded. "Thanks Cana. You've helped a lot. Now, I've got to go pick up a friend, okay?"

She smiled at me. "Alright Elle-nee-chan! I will see you soon then. Have fun."

I smiled down at her. "You too, sweetie. I've got to go now."

I phased into my library, and though panting, I still gathered a thumb tack and cast a spell to find this girl's location. The tack landed in Onibus and I sighed and sat down, exhausted.

"I've done enough for one day," I said quietly. "Let's just get ready for tomorrow."

I ate some dinner, showered, and then packed in case it was needed. I threw the suitcase into my requip space and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow I pick up Juvia Lockser.

I woke up fully rested and yawned, stretching. Onibus would be the biggest jump I would have made so far, but I think I could handle it. It wasn't too far from Magnolia, and I decided to start walking in that direction anyway, so I could lower the distance.

After going shopping, I had everything I needed.

I wore a pair of black yoga pants, tennis shoes, a white short sleeve shirt with the back laced up, and a black jacket.

The only difference in the rest of my wardrobe (with the exception of the dresses) where shirts and pants in different colors.

I made sure I had enough Jewel for at least two train tickets (I wasn't going to jump with Juvia).

When I reached the train station, I closed my eyes and pictured Onibus station.

Opening my eyes, I felt extremely drained, and collapsed on the ground.

I had made it to Onibus station, but I was extremely, extremely tired.

Luckily, I had collapsed in a not-very-public place, so I didn't cause a scene. I made my way over to a bench and pulled out some snacks I had in the requip space. It took a bit of time, since my energy was still depleted, but getting food into me would help me recover faster.

When I had finished eating and I had gotten enough strength to get up again, I sent the rest of my snack back and switched it out for Juvia's thumbtack – the same one I had thrown at the wall last night. The spell to find Juvia was still on it, but I had disconnected it from the map before I went to bed last night.

Holding my palm flat, I placed the thumbtack down and watched it spin before it pointed in the right direction.

I pocketed it in my jacket and went the way it was pointing.

Time to find myself a water woman.

Okay, so it was apparently a lot harder to find one person (even with a tracking spell) than I thought.

Honestly, I should have just gone straight to the orphanage.

There, I found Juvia sitting outside under a tree while it rained. There were a circle of kids around her, and they were all yelling at her.

"Oi, kids!" I yelled. "Scram, or I'll tell the Matron!"

Luckily, it was the right thing to say, as the kids all ran away and back into the building.

Which was good, because the next idea I had was throwing rocks at them, and that was a) kinda a dick move and b) probably not good for a first impression.

I walked up to Juvia's little form and squatted down.

"Hi," I said to her. "My name is Elle. Why were those kids ganging up on you?"

"They were upset because Juvia makes it rain, but Juvia cannot control it," the little girl said, sniffling. I would guess she was five years old.

"Your name is Juvia?" I asked her.

She nodded.

"That's such a pretty name," I told her. "And don't worry about your rain at all."

"What? But-"

"So you can't control it, so what?" I said, rolling my eyes. "You're a child! You have instinctive magic, and you shouldn't be expected to already know how to control it. And besides there's nothing wrong with the rain."

"There…isn't?"

"No, silly!" I said, holding out a hand. She took it and I pulled her up. "You just need to know how to have fun in the rain!"

"You can do that?" she asked.

"Of course!" I told her. "I'd rather have fun in the rain with a friend than not have any fun at all! And I'd much rather be here with you than be alone."

"You...you would?" she asked, crying.

I smiled at her. "Of course."

Juvia sniffled. "How…how does Juvia do that?" she asked.

"Come on, silly, dance!" I said, dragging her out into the empty street, which was full of puddles.

"But we'll get wet- oh."

"Yes, Juvia, but so what? We're already wet! Come on, it's fun. There's even a song about it!"

"There is?"

"Sure!" I yelled, taking her hand and spinning her. "I'm siiiiiiiiiiinging in the rain. Just siiiiiiiiinging in the rain. What a glorrrrrrious feeeeeling I'm haaaaaaapppy again!"

She started laughing.

"You better not be laughing at my singing; I already know it's bad!" I said. "But come on!" I spun her again. "I only know those words, but it's all you need to know. Sing with me! I'm siiiiiiiiiiiinging in the rain! Just siiiiiiinging in the rain."

"What a glorrrrrious feeeeling I'm haaaaaapppppy again!" Juvia joined in, laughing.

We dropped, tired, and began laughing as we laid sprawled on the ground. "You see Juvia? There's nothing wrong with the rain."

She smiled, and as she did, the rain stopped and the clouds started drifting away.

"Wow…." She said, looking at the sky. "It's….so pretty."

"Come on," I said, getting up and holding out a hand for her. "This place isn't good for you, but if you come home with me you can join my guild. There, others can help you train your magic, and you'll be accepted no matter what! Our guild is a family!"

She started crying again, but this time, the rain stayed away.

"Can I see your guild mark, Onee-sama?" Juvia asked.

I should've known that Juvia would go for the most formal variation of older sister.

"Sure," I said, smiling and taking off my jacket. I turned around so she could see the mark on my back. "So how about it? Do you want to join Fairy Tail?"

She nodded. "Yes!"

"Then let's get your stuff. I'll speak with the Matron, don't worry."

Juvia led me inside and over to the Matron before she ran up the stairs to what was, presumably, her room.

"Hello Miss," I told her. "My name is Elle, and I'm a member of Fairy Tail." I turned around so she could see my guild mark. "I'm here for Juvia Locksar. I've given her an offer to join our guild and she accepted. There, she will learn how to control her magic. As you can see outside, it has stopped raining. Do you need to contact anyone else before we can leave?"

She blinked, before she asked, "Um...exactly how old are you?"

"Nine, ma'am."

"And...you're here alone?"

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'm a mage, and I can take care of myself. I can take care of Juvia too, and you can at least trust me to get her to the guild hall so she can get set up."

The Matron hesitated. "Would you mind showing me your guild mark again?"

I nodded. "Sure." I turned around and moved my hair.

"Alright, then...this is acceptable. To be honest, I was thinking of contacting a guild about Juvia anyway. But since your mark is real, I have no problems with her going with you. Despite your...age, even though the matron in me is screaming. Will she be able to find a place to live?"

I nodded. "Fairy Hills, the girls Dormitory for Fairy Tail, is available to all female guild members for free until they're old enough to go on missions. The guild will supply her with food. She'll be fine."

"Onee-sama, I'm ready!" Juvia said from beside me. She was pulling a small suitcase behind her.

I smiled at her. "Good. Let me take care of this for you, though, I have some extra storage in my requip space." I took her suitcase and requipped it, so we didn't need to carry it. "Alright, let's go!"

Juvia grabbed my hand with hers and started pulling me down the road.

"Juvia, silly, you don't even know where we're going!" I said.

"But the train station is this way, Onee-sama!"

Well, she isn't wrong. I laughed. "You know, you don't need to be so formal, sweetie."

"I like calling you Onee-sama," she admitted, clutching my hand tighter.

"Alright then," I said. "Now let's go home."

Several hours later, we stood outside the guild hall.

"Is there anyone like me, Onee-sama?" Juvia asked, still holding my hand.

"Like you as in, having a water body, or your age?" I asked.

"Both," she said quietly.

"As far as I know, I don't believe anyone has a water body. Actually, I'm not even sure that we have a water wizard," I said quietly.

Juvia gasped. "But how can they help Juvia then?"

I shook my head. "At the core level, magic is magic, same for everybody. Even if no one practices the same kind of magic as you, we'll still be able to teach you how to refine your control, which is where you need help. In addition to that, we have a large library that can help you. And if you find any of the books too complicated, anyone would help you understand."

Juvia relaxed. "Alright, Onee-sama. What about other children like Juvia?"

"Right now, the only other kids around are me, an eleven-year-old named Laxus who I haven't actually met yet, and another girl who is five years old. I'm sure other kids will end up joining soon, however."

Juvia smiled. "I am five years old."

"I'm sure you'll get along with her great. Her name is Cana."

"I heard you were talking about me," said a voice from behind us.

"Speak of the devil," I said, smiling at her. "Hello Cana."

"Hello Elle-nee-chan. Why are you talking about the devil?"

I couldn't help my laughter. "It's an expression, Cana. The full expression is 'Speak of the Devil, and he will appear'. People typically say it when someone they're talking about ends up showing up."

"Ohhhh," Cana said.

"Anyway, this is Juvia," I said, gesturing to the bluenette next to me. "She's going to join the guild."

"Cool," Cana said, holding out a hand. "I'm Cana Alberona. It's nice to meet you Juvia! I deal with Card Magic."

"H-hello," Juvia said nervously, and I realized that this could be the first time making a friend for her. "Juvia is Juvia Locksar. Juvia practices Water Magic." She reached out her hand to shake Cana's but her's passed right through it.

"Woah!" Cana said. "Your body is made of water?"

Juvia looked away in what was probably shame, considering how those other kids treated her.

"That's so cool!" Cana continued.

"It is?" Juvia asked, surprised at her acceptance.

"Totally!" Cana said. "Maybe I can even try to integrate that with my Card Magic, it would be great for a quick escape, or for protection if I could change my body into water."

"See, Juvia?" I asked her. "Fairy Tail excepts everybody. Now…how about we get that stamp?"