#this is basically casual clothing au all over again except it does not look casual at all.....

[laurzzz]

I Drew One of My Fits on Moon

Imagine if I turn this into an AU where I just draw the DCA in all of the fits I usually wear to uni. I'll call it like. My Fits AU...... /half srs

I just had to put this response from discord AHASJAHSA I am simply the guy they tell you not to worry about /silly

[writersrealmbts]

Clearwater Springs: Part 9

SDescription: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: idk

Posted: 08/18/2021

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, soulmate au

3,463 words

A/N: Okay! Remember, two free-write and one survey chapter, which means the next survey chapter will be chapter 11 (technically they all are at this point), which means that the survey at the bottom of this post will be on part 10 as well. Sorry for the wait.

Previous ~ Next

You were in a warm cocoon, and you weren’t about to disturb it.

Yoongi was in cat form again, stretched out against your back, purring now and then in his sleep.

Namjoon was snoring, but you didn’t care because he was warm and his heartbeat was strong, and he was well-built. Strong enough to make you feel safe, soft enough to keep you comfortable. He was your haltija.

You lay in a comfortable doze for a while, smiling when Yoongi moved so you could pet him and he fell asleep again.

But then someone was sneaking in and over, fluttering above the ground and peering at you.

You yawned a bit, then turned to reach out both hands to him.

Jimin smiled and took your hands, gently pulling you from between the other two and into the air.

You grinned as he set you down on the floor by the bed, admiring his wings. His feathers looked shinier already, and the colors of his feathers seemed more vibrant. Happiness made such a difference in fairies.

Jimin tugged your hand gently, pulling you out of the room and down to Jin’s room.

The door swung open silently, revealing the most adorable sight of Jin and Jungkook cuddling. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around Jin, and head on Jin’s shoulder but still tucked close to Jin’s neck. Both of them looked so peaceful.

Jimin shared your smile, then tugged your hand again as he carefully closed the door.

Taehyung was being bearhugged from behind by Hoseok, drowsily watching some cartoon show that had the volume down as low as possible without muting it.

Hoseok murmured now and then, and pressed airy little kisses just barely into Taehyung’s hair--probably completely unfelt by the dryad. But he glanced over and smiled contentedly at you before whispering something that got a sleepy smile out of his companion.

You tugged on Jimin’s hand this time, drawing him into the kitchen. “Help me make them breakfast?”

He nodded.

You weren’t an exceptional cook, but you could make basic foods, and the boys didn’t seem to mind basic foods. “Did you sleep well, ma mignonne?”

He nodded emphatically. “Yesterday was tiring.”

Yoongi stalked in, scowling tiredly at you. “You left.”

“Sorry, mon chat minou,” You apologized, leaning over to peck his lips.

His eyes widened.

Jimin huffed, latching onto you again.

You leaned back into his arms and tilted your head back for a kiss.

He hesitated, but did kiss you—softly. As though you were a bubble that would pop at any moment. His lips soft against yours.

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips, keenly away of two more sets of eyes on the three of you.

Hoseok, probably already knowing the outcome, came over and claimed his kiss. “Morning, aluemdaun.”

You hummed happily at his casual compliment, curling your fingers around the neckline of his shirt. “Darling.”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide, and he slowly came forward.

You watched him with a soft smile. “Good morning, Taehyung. Did you sleep well?”

Taehyung nodded slowly.

You kissed his cheek, brushing over the spot where you kissed him with your thumb as you looked over his face. “Good.”

“So...does everyone know...about….” He gestured vaguely to your arm.

You nodded, smiling a little more. “Everyone knows. You can ask them anything about being soulmates that you want. You can touch them, hug them, kiss them, and they’ll have no room to complain because they’re stuck with all of us for the rest of our lives—provided all goes well.”

Taehyung started to get hints of excitement in his eyes. “Hugs?”

“As many as you like. Jimin gives especially good hugs.” You nodded toward the fairy, who was still cooking under your instructions.

Yoongi took Taehyung’s hand. “After we’re out of their way so they can make breakfast.”

Taehyung didn’t seem to accept that, turning and hugging onto Yoongi despite the werecat’s protests—loud as they were.

But Yoongi waddled himself and Taehyung out of the kitchen, and out of your way. And Taehyung forced his hugs on the werecat without avail.

You returned to your fairy, directing his actions with little gestures, happy when the food turned out well—just as Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook joined everyone downstairs.

Jimin greeted them with a chirpy ‘Good Morning!’ while ushering them to the table. “We just finished making breakfast!”

Jungkook looked like he was still half-asleep, movements languid as Jin helped him to a spot at the table.

Yoongi was still trapped by Taehyung. “Stop it. Stop it. Let’s not do this. Stop it.”

Taehyung ignored him, nuzzling the were-cat’s neck until suddenly the were-cat shifted and escaped. Then he pouted, looking hurt and sullen.

Jin chuckled sleepily. “Come here, Taehyungie, we’ll catch him later for you to cuddle. Sit next to hyungie to eat.”

Hoseok easily claimed the seat on the other side of Taehyung. “Yoongi-hyung was probably just hungry, Taehyung. He’s not very forthright, but—” he dropped his glass, eyes glazed and far away. He frowned, hands hovering shakily over his plate.

You glanced at Jin for a moment.

Jin got up and went around to Hoseok’s side.

Hoseok’s gaze cleared slightly, but he looked shaken. “I need my crystal ball. Need to get upstairs.”

“I’ll help you,” Jin whispered softly, helping him up. “Even breaths, Hoseokie. Keep calm.”

Hoseok nodded, leaning into Jin. “Need to look. Need to see.”

You watched them go with a little worry, but you knew Hoseok would be fine as long as Jin was with him.

Today, you had work to do.

After you had made sure that Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin had ingested an adequate amount of food—and helped Yoongi make plates for the two that were absent—you went to your room, silently asking your waters for some good working clothes.

Your waters ignored you and gave you a dress, but at least the dress wouldn’t expose your body every time you moved.

Jimin was waiting with Parsley by the front door. “You’re going to the library, right?”

You smiled and nodded. “I have work to do. Are you coming with me?”

“You can’t go alone,” He said nonchalantly. “Too dangerous. Especially with a dark mage about.”

“True. But I wouldn’t like it if you didn’t want to come with me.”

“I want to,” He answered quickly, looking a little sheepish. “I really like it there. High ceilings. I can fly even though it’s raining.”

You smiled. “Alright, then.”

You peeked into the living room, noticing that Taehyung had ‘captured’ Yoongi again and that both were watching a movie with Jungkook and Namjoon. “I’m off to the library with Jimin. Be back later. Someone check on Jin and Hoseok if they don’t come down in an hour?”

“Mm’kay,” Namjoon answered distractedly, but you saw Yoongi look over at you and nod.

Rain didn’t bother you that much, it was just water after all, but Jimin seemed a little averse to it, so you made sure he had the umbrella. Not that it was much of a rainstorm, the gentle pattering drops far more soothing than harsh. Pleasant and somewhat warm.

There was a truck sitting in front of the library, and Valina was under the overhang of the doors, glaring at another person.

Jimin gently touched your shoulder and took off to watch from a distance, a distance from which he could easily intervene if he needed.

You carried the closed umbrella up to those waiting, wondering what was going on. “Hello Valina, how may I assist you?”

She glanced at you, eyes widening slightly, panicked a little.

“Ah! You must be the librarian, I am Grendel,” The dark mage said, turning toward you and bowing.

You froze, but tried not to display your panic. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“Yes, well, you see, as well as conducting my own business, I was asked to convey this load of books to this…charming town’s library.” He eyed you. “I had not realized that this library was run by a xana.”

“I had not realized my species could be of any interest to any being other than my own kind,” You answered evenly. “There is a room around the side of the building for after-hours book deliveries and donations, and the sign is right there, as well. I believe that lettering is large enough for any to read.”

“Ah, but I have…certain donations that need special care, and I wished to convey the instructions in person—as I was telling this…fiery, young woman.”

“That’s witch to you! And I told you I could have given her the instructions.” Valina crossed her arms.

“And I told you, there are certain things that only a librarian can understand. This place has special vaults for…dangerous tomes, does it not?” He turned to you.

“We would have to ask the owner of the library,” You answered vaguely. “I have not been informed of any. If you would be so kind as to deliver the rest to the side room, I will call the owner and have him come and talk with you.”

“I was specifically instructed—”

“I understand,” You cut him off. “However, I have no answers as to security for dangerous tomes, and for that, the owner is required. Once he has answers in regards to the safety of such tomes, then we may further discuss the tomes staying here. Until then, please patiently wait in the delivery room around the side of the building. I shall not ask again.”

“But—”

“You have about five seconds before I start singing: can you bare it, mage?” You asked, eyes narrowing in a challenge.

His mouth clamped shut and he bowed stiffly. “As you have asked, so shall I do.”

You nodded firmly and moved to the front doors, waiting until he was pulling the truck to the side of the building before unlocking the front doors and ushering Valina inside.

“Are you crazy? He’s a dark mage!” She hissed the moment the door closed.

“I am…very…aware…of…that…,” You said in between trying not to hyperventilate in the ensuing panic.

Jimin landed and quickly wrapped his arms and wings around you, forcing Valina to back up. “You’re crazy. You’re absolutely crazy.”

You just hugged him back with all of your might. “Need to call Jin.”

“I’ll do that,” Valina said, regarding you and Jimin and just a tiny bit disconcerted.

“It’s a trick, right? He’s just trying to get to you, right?” Jimin asked, sounding panicked.

Parsley twined around your feet, mewling.

“Where’s his pheonix?” You whispered.

You saw Valina look up sharply.

Jimin let go of you and shrunk, darting off to look.

You went to the desk slowly, sitting down and beginning your work. “He stop at your shop first?”

“Not exactly. Had a feeling.” Valina leaned against the counter, frowning. “A faun pointed him out to me, and my brain worked from there. My coven will ward the town. We’ve already been setting up protection wards on people’s houses, so most people should be safe at night. Except your house. But you have a haltija.”

“And a were-cat, and a djinn, dryad, seer, incubus-fairy mix, and a human that I swear has magic in his blood.”

“Mr. Kim definitely has magic in his blood,” Valina said, eyes flashing pink. “Ancient magic, but it is there. His family tree is made of touched and clearsighted.”

“Touched and clearsighted?” You asked.

“Touched people have a sort of intuition, they get a sense for things quickly—especially in regards to the magical. They tend to become fighters, people who protect others from…less-savory magic. Clearsighted folk can see through all magical protection that would confuse other humans. Why do you think he didn’t become a slobbering fool upon seeing you? Yes, he sees you’re hot as hell, but, because he has clearsight, he is able to resist that pull and instead focus on you as a person. Me? I have special charms to resist folk like yourself and stay a decent witch.” She looked you over and quickly looked away. “Though, I think it’s about time I recharge them.”

“I appreciate the effort,” You murmured, thinking about Jin and grateful for the distraction that she had been trying to give you. “There’s still so much I don’t know about the world and about people. I only knew my people.”

“Might help if you came into town more often.”

You looked at her quietly until she met your gaze with a little regret.

“Nevermind, that would be mass chaos and not pleasant for you. Forget I mentioned town. Let me ward it for your protection first.”

“Don’t go to any extra trouble on my account.”

“I won’t. My coven planned on putting up warding to protect from…unwanted behaviors.”

“You’re the police of the town, aren’t you?”

Valina grinned. “Yup! But don’t worry, we have people we answer to as well. Now, if we could get real town status, then we’d probably elect Mr. Kim as mayor—”

“Never gonna happen,” Jin said firmly, walking quickly over to you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, standing up. “I sent him around the side to the drop-off area and Jimin is looking for the Pheonix, but he’s been gone since Valina called you.”

Yoongi shifted and ran out to see if he could track down the fairy.

Hoseok was looking a little…out of breath.

Jungkook seemed to be visually assessing you.

Namjoon was talking to the doorway.

Taehyung was looking around, awestruck. “Hyung…this place is so beautiful….”

Jin kissed your forehead and then glanced at Valina. “Got any extra protection charms?”

She patted her pockets demonstratively. “I was in a bit of a rush, toots. Apologies. Take the Djinn with you, he can use magic to protect you and it’s stronger than even a dark mage’s. He can protect you if he wishes.”

Hoseok gripped Jungkook’s arm. “No.”

Jungkook looked both surprised and hurt. “I can do it, hyung.”

“No, it has to be…” Hoseok looked desperately at him, then at you. “It has to be you. I…can’t tell you why…but I know….”

You could tell it was killing him to say it, tearing him up inside. “Okay. If you say it must be so, then it must be. Jungkook could protect us from here, correct?”

Hoseok considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, now please sit down. You look so pale,” You pleaded softly, gently, touching his arm.

He relaxed a bit and pliantly let you guide him to your chair.

“Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon; please look out for Hoseok, I have a feeling he’s going to be having a rough day,” You asked, picking up Parsley and setting her in Hoseok’s lap. “Pet the kitty.”

Hoseok let out a small breath of an amused laugh, then did as told.

Then you and Seokjin went outside to meet the dark mage.

Grendel was waiting, looking patient, casually unloading boxes from the truck, but he quickly set aside the box he was carrying as he noticed your approach.

“This is Mr. Kim, the owner of the library. Mr. Grendel had inquiries about secure vaults for…dangerous tomes.”

Jin nodded. “I am only allowed by the government to approve of certain types of tomes. What is the nature of the tomes?” He pulled out some paperwork.

“One is a necromancers guide made with dragon leather,” Grendel said, looking worried.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you.

Grendel nodded. “Dark magic that must be locked away and never let out again. And that one…that one should remain off-record if possible.”

Jin was quiet, partially frozen. “Where is that one?”

“Still on the truck. I didn’t want to unload it if it couldn’t stay here.”

Jin nodded slowly. “I know a place where it can go. I’m assuming you don’t want to know it’s final location either.”

“That would be correct.”

“Okay. And the other tomes?”

“A Demon Book, a Crimson portfolio, and the notebook of…Fausto Vilareyo,” Grendel finished, not meeting your gaze.

Your heart seemed to stop.

Jin was looking to you. “Fausto Vilareyo?”

“The first dark mage,” You answered, trembling.

Jin nodded slowly. “All of these fall within what I am able to take in. I will care for the notebook and the necromancer’s guide.”

You nodded. “I….”

“Can you go get me some notecards?” Jin asked, providing you with a brief escape. “And a pen?”

You nodded, turning and fleeing the presence of such an evil book.

The others startled when you hurried in.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asked, pausing in his task of what appeared to be drying Jimin’s wings.

“Yes. Did you find the pheonix?”

“No,” Jimin said, drooping. “No sign of it.”

“That’s fine,” You said hastily, grabbing some things for yourself.

“Slow down,” Valina advised, “before you drop everything you’re trying to pick up.”

You just nodded and raced out again, pausing before the corner and composing yourself.

Grendel conveyed the instructions for the last two books, then bowed. “I thank you for guarding these relics. It has been a long journey to find a safe resting place for them.”

You dipped your head very slightly. “War makes many things difficult, though they be difficult to begin with.”

“Very true. I must be off. Many more false trails to lay,” Grendel said, bowing once more. He hesitated in leaving, though. “I know it may not mean much, but I apologize for the wrongs that have been committed toward your kind. I had never seen one of your kind in person before now and I regret not knowing. I do what I must, though, and for that I know I would never be able to listen to your songs. Thank you for your benevolence toward me, even knowing I am of the kind that is dangerous toward yourself.”

“If you continue to remove dangerous things from those who would abuse them, then I wish you luck,” You said, meaning it. Not just anyone would turn over what they had found to be locked away. And while his dark magic was fresh and potent, perhaps it was because he needed it to get those items. “May I ask, what were you doing in the forest?”

He blinked in surprise. “The forest? Oh…I…I’d actually heard that the forest was quite nice and I have this stupid pheonix that’s bound to me and he goes and gets into all sorts of trouble if I don’t properly exercise him.” He looked around. “Thinking of…you haven’t happened to see a pheonix?”

You shook your head rapidly.

Jin shook his head as well.

He sighed. “He probably went after the dragon magic, the stupid fledgling. Well. Either he gets eaten or he learns a lesson. Thank you for your time.” He bowed again and hopped into the truck.

“Dragon?” Jin asked, eyes wide.

“The river dragon, probably,” You offered.

Jin looked at you like you’d grown a second hand.

“Jungkook and I ran across him when we were passing the time before going to look for you. He’s my river-kin, apparently.”

Jin shook his head, showing you the vaults for the books you would care for, how to access them and such. “Of course he is.”

“Hoseok looked pale.”

“Yeah. He’s not as strong as he likes to convey.”

“Are any of us?”

Jin kissed your cheek. “Probably not.”

You ran your fingers along the mortar between the bricks. “Do you think he had an ulterior motive?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. You want to stay at the library?”

You nodded. “I have work to do. Jimin will probably stay with me.”

He nodded. “I don’t think Taehyung will leave now, either. Is that okay?”

“He’s cute. Jimin and I can keep an eye on him.”

“Okay. I’m going to take the others home, then. Make sure Hoseok gets some water, food, and rest.” Jin kissed your cheek. “Don’t speak a word to the others about what books are hidden in the vaults. Or about the books I will be hiding. It’ll be safer.”

You nodded firmly. “Agreed. It’s for their own well-being. Hoseok knows.”

He nodded. “Probably.”

Yoongi stalked up in his black and grey form—his largest form—and then paused, getting ready to leap into Jin’s arms.

Jin stroked Yoongi’s head. “Hey. We’re okay. Thanks for worrying.”

Yoongi just snorted and rested, acting like he’d intended to fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

You reached over and scratched his head, then went into the library to finally do the work that you hadn’t been able to get done in the past three days.

–

Post-Chapter 9 Survey

Previous.  Next.

Masterlist.  Clearwater Springs Masterpost.

–

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[szallejhscorner]

Hi!! I absolutely loved your story. Like amazing wow. I was wondering if you could do like a one shot about Chishiya where he gets jealous? Idk if that’s too out of charecter but yeah. You’re amazing!!

Sorry that it took so long! I went a bit wild and wrote some kind of AU with familiar characters from the story, just that I adjusted the age a little bit.

I really liked the idea, and I hope you do too (:

School Reunion

Chishiya never wanted to accompany you to that school reunion in the first place. Yet he is here, walking right next to you into the huge hall, festively decorated and full of people. Most of the faces are familiar to you – even though you don’t know all of their names, you do remember at least the courses you had been to together. The other ones new to you are most likely the partners, and you are excited to see what has become out of the people you had called friends or enemies for so many years.

You had planned to go there alone, like you always did – Chishiya really was no party person – but some old school friends of you wanted to meet him so badly, and it took a whole evening of sweet words and puppy eyes to finally convince him. Which he obviously regrets already the moment loud music and disco lights greet you, but you are too hyped to see all those people again to care that much.

“Ichika!!” The first face to catch your attention is a tall woman with long black hair tied up in a high bun, and the subtle makeup underlines her features perfectly. She is dressed in a bright red glittering dress that shows more skin than it hides, but if someone has the figure to wear that, it’s her.

You’d decided for a dress as well, but it doesn’t have that much glitter except a few little details and definitely covers more than just the bare minimum. It’s what most women have chosen, and most of the men wear suits as well. Some have come here with just plain shirt and jeans, and Chishiya definitely isn’t the only one with casual clothes. Coming here with you was already a lot to ask, but wearing a suit? Hell, no. Dark blue jeans, a basic shirt and the hoodie he loves the most – the white one with dark grey elements around the zipper and the hood.

Ichika, who has been one of your closest friends during middle school, pulls you into a hug and squeezes tight. “SO good to see you! How long has it been – five years? Six?”

Both of you excitedly talk about your current situations, about jobs and men and whatnot, and while you wallow in memories of school days long gone by, Chishiya nudges your shoulder with a glass of champagne. You didn’t even realize that he left, but that’s what you love about him. He’s not the one to talk that much, he simply does what is right.

And even when Ichika starts to bomb him with questions, he has the audacity to calmly sip his lemonade while he manages to avoid almost every single personal question, causing Ichika to swap back to you soon.

She is interested in everything: how you and Chishiya met, about your future plans, if you heard the latest rumors about some former class mates. Ichika herself came here alone and doesn’t hesitate to tell you that she isn’t interested in any kind of relationship that lasts longer than one night, at least for now. You do catch her how she watches some of the male and single-looking men inside the hall though.

The music that you have barely noticed until now changes into a slow and romantic song, and you turn to Chishiya with the puppy eyes he loves and hates so much. It did work for him to accompany you here, but dancing is a completely different topic.

“No.” Chishiya shakes his head in a way that leaves no other option.

“Come on, please!”

“You’ve heard me. No.”

Ichika laughs next to you and pulls on your arms. “If he doesn’t want to dance, I’ll do it.” She takes the glass and hands it over to Chishiya, and before he can even say something, Ichika guides you to the dance floor and places her hand on your shoulder.

You start to dance with a grin on your face. “You know that I’m not available for your nightly adventures, right?”

“Pah! Who says you can’t just have fun dancing with an old friend?” She pokes your side, and in the few times the crowd makes way so you can throw a look at Chishiya, you can see how he is watching you with a smirk on his face.

The music changes into something faster again, and Ichika starts to swirl you around. In the next moment she is gone, and someone else takes hold of your hands.

You don’t recognize the face at first – it’s a very tall man, wearing jeans and a plain white shirt, with brown messy curls covering his head and features that could be described as handsome. Very handsome. And somehow very familiar.

“It has been some time, hasn’t it?”

For a moment, you want to push him away and tell him you already have a boyfriend, but the smile he gives you is honest and in no way trying to flirt. You examine this smile, the big eyes and slightly crooked teeth, and suddenly you realize who is dancing with you.

“Hibiki! Is that you?”

Carried by the movements on the dance floor, you soon reach the other side of the hall. “Good, you still remember! I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me anymore.”

Now that you know it, it’s impossible to ignore it. Hibiki has changed so much, but he is still the handsome cute guy you were in love with for over a year during middle school. Just that he hadn’t been interested in you back then, and it took you a very long time to get over the heartbreak.

Having a conversation is hard with the loud music and people laughing around you, so Hibiki soon leads you down into a calmer niche and grabs something to drink for both of you.

“Are you here alone?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, my boyfriend is with me.”

“Do I know him? And why would he let you dance alone?” He seems genuinely surprised, but he doesn’t ask further after you tell him that Chishiya just is not much of a dancer. Now that you think of him… you can’t see him anywhere. He won’t leave without telling you, would he?

The talk goes on for a bit longer, and you learn that Hibiki was about to propose to his girlfriend when she left him for someone else. That’s why he came here alone, but it’s okay because he has just started to study law in one of Tokyo’s best universities and it keeps him quite busy.

“Tell me, then! Are you engaged yet, and what about the marriage? Will it be the way you always told me, with a huge party and lots of glitter and horses and that stuff?”

You laugh and shake your head. Yes, you have dreamt of a fairytale wedding for many years, and you still think it’d be nice to have one, but you also know that it’s not the thing Chishiya would approve.

“No, we haven’t talked about it yet. If we’re going to get married, it will be a small party, if there will be one at all.”

Honestly shocked, Hibiki almost drops his glass to the ground. “You’re kidding me! Girl, this has been your biggest dream since you learned to talk properly!”

“What has been your biggest dream?”

You turn around and face Chishiya, just that there is no smirk on his face any longer. His hands don’t carry lemonade but they’re tucked inside the pockets of his hoodie, and he watches Hibiki with a frown. Could it be that…

Barely able to hide a grin, you approach Chishiya and place a kiss onto his lips. He makes a face, mostly because of the alcoholic taste of your drink, but it’s Hibiki who speaks up as it gets clear that you won’t say anything.

“What do you think? Her wedding plans! You know, big glittery dress and a carriage and all that… But since I’ve heard you’re not that type of man, I hope you at least tell her how wonderful she is every day. Because, you know – I would do that. But I was too late to fall in love with her, when she was not interested anymore. I wouldn’t waste that chance again!” He laughs and pays attention to his drink, mostly to overplay the awkwardness caused by his words. You didn’t know that Hibiki had developed feelings for you as well, and you can’t help but think about how it would have been if the timing had been a bit better.

“I’m sure you’ll excuse us.” Chishiya is calm as always, but you can feel a fire underneath his skin as he grabs your arm and leads you into the open. He doesn’t hurt you, but it’s obvious that you don’t have a chance other than to follow him.

“Wha-“

“You never told me.”

“Eh?”

His eyes pierce yours and his lips turned into a thin line. “About your wedding dream.”

You wave if off with your hand. “Ah, about that… I knew you wouldn’t like it, so I didn’t bother to talk about it. I’m fine without, really.”

“Do you still want it?” The frown doesn’t disappear from his face, and you glance over his shoulder where Hibiki is still watching you from the inside.

“As I said, I’m fine. You know I love you and-“

“Do you still want it.” Now it doesn’t feel like a question anymore, and you put the glass down on the ground to cup Chishiya’s face into both your hands.

“Yes. I guess it would be nice to have a fairytale wedding. BUT,” you kiss him again, this time longer and more intense, “it’s no precondition to stay with you. You won’t even wear a suit, how would you attend your own wedding?”

That seems to smooth the frown, and his lips turn up just a little again.

“Are you jealous, Chishiya?” you ask with a wide grin, and the snort comes immediately.

“Me? Jealous?”

But you have seen it, the look in his eyes, the way he has eyed Hibiki.

“He’s no danger, really. Yes, he’s handsome and cute, but we were kids when I had feelings for him. And now I’m grown up and have you.”

You hug him, and his hands rest on your back for a very long time before one of you speaks again. It’s that kind of comfortable silence where no one has to say a word and it still feels wonderful, because it’s just Chishiya and you. But eventually his hands move up to your shoulders and bring some distance between you two so that he can face you.

“That childish dream of yours. If that is what you really want…” he sighs, turning his eyes to the sky for a moment before they move back to you.

“… we can do it.”

[we-have-bangtan]

BCO (Bulletproof Crime Org.)

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Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Theme: Mafia au, poly au, smut, gore

Warning: Swearing, smut, gore, Hobi and Jimin smooch.

VERY UN-EDITED

SO SO SO LONG

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Chapter 1 || chapter 2 ||

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She was tempted to smash the window with the tennis ball she had been given in order to stay entertained. She hadn’t realized how boring house arrest was in all these years, she vowed to never let any of her victims go through this.

               She stood up, going to look out the window again, gang members littered the lawn, 2 to the right, 3 towards the corner of the building and 2 more directly across from the window. She’d have a tough time running away, not that she had any plan to do that.

  She felt like Rapunzel in Mother Gothel’s castle, just that here she had 7 mother Gothels. She considered throwing the ball as hard as she could at the two men, one with pink hair and the other with black hair, to the right of the window; just to practice her aim. She decided against it, picking up an apple from the fruit basket Taehyung had delivered to her this morning, preferring to chuck an apple at them instead. 

    She leaned out of the window, aiming with one eye closed and threw it with all her might, the apple she had thrown meeting the head of the one with pink hair, “Heyyyy” the boy yelped in shock, looking all around to look for where the apple came from, he didn’t notice her in the window right behind him.

   The boy with black  hair seemed to convince the guy that he was imagining stuff. The two of them went back to their conversation as Yn smirked to herself, finally some entertainment, she thought as she grabbed the smaller basket on grapes, tossing one of them at the pink haired one again before quickly moving away from the window just as someone knocked on the door. 

   “Come in” she yelled, hurriedly moving away from the window as Jungkook peeked into the room before entering, “Supp” he asked, looking around her room, it was nice, comfortable and bright, it had a very comfortable bed and an arm chair that was a little squeaky, “Same ol’, bored, how long will I be under house arrest?” she asked making the youngest of the boys raise an eyebrow at her.

   “You’ll be under house arrest till your injuries have healed, and the fuck you mean bored, I could literally see you throwing fruits at Yeonjun” he said, calling her out on her bullshit, “yah, what am I supposed to do when I’m bored” she defended, Jungkook walked over to the window as he spoke, “I didn’t say you had to stop, I actually came to join you” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the black haired fellow.

      She quietly dragged a chair towards the window, taking the fruit basket with her as well, handing Jungkook an orange before taking a grape for herself. Jungkook aimed at the dude’s head with all the concentration that he had before throwing the fruit which met with the poor boy’s forehead. 

   “Aish, you blew my cover” Yn huffed as the guy looked up at them. “Ah, don’t worry about it, I can entertain you instead” he assured as he saw Soobin take Yeonjun away from the window to a place out of their range. 

     Soobin would have given anyone else a piece of his mind if they had done that to him but now that it was Jungkook and the boss lady, he would lose his life if he even looked at them wrongly. He’d complain about it to Jin hyung later he decided before going back to his conversation with Yeonjun.

    Jungkook fell back on Yn’s bed as she too moved away from the window to join him, making sure not to put any pressure on her injuries. “I need clothes of my own don’t you think?” she said, looking down at the clothes one of the girls in the compound had lent her, they were nice but not exactly her style.

      “Why, are the ones you have now not enough?” he question taking a moment to look over the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, “It’s not they aren’t enough, it’s just that they aren’t my style” she admitted as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve. 

  She and Jungkook had come to a mutually understand each other in the past three days. He’d come to the room to check up on her and somehow managed to stay back to entertain her for a while before he’d have to go again. He was a few months older than her and was constantly bugging her about it, he’d whine and groan when ever she didn’t use any honorifics but he had come to the understanding that she was not going to use honorifics with him or anyone in the group.

He was comforting and entertaining and a dumbass at times, but he was nice, he wasn’t the 7th leader of Bulletproof crime org, the biggest criminal organisation in Korea. He was Jungkook, a goofy 24 year old with an addiction to banana milk.

      “We’ll see, I’ll as Namjoon hyung if we can go to the mall, do you have money?” he asked as he got up from his spot to strecth his body a little. “Ayaaa, my card is at the compound back home, I need to sneak in to get it” she huffed, already devicing an action plan on how she would get it back. 

              “You can just open another account you know, no need to go back home, how much was in it anyway?” he asked, worried for her safety although he knew she could handle herself.

        She really didn’t have to risk her life to get a dumb credit card, plus, cash was better than car, it didn’t leave tracks anywhere. Jungkook looked at the pretty girl in front of him, she looked like she was contemplating whether to go or not. He didn’t want her to go, honestly. It was a waste, what if she got caught by her old gang, they’d behead her themselves. “20 million won, and I need to end them anyway, might as well get some work done when I go to get my card” she answered leaving Jungkook’s jaw hanging.

    “20 MILLION WON??????” he exclaimed, “does the bank not get suspicious? how did you even get that much money?” he questioned, eyes wide with concern for the 23 year old. “It’s a bank run by a close friend who will be relieved if I show up there, but I cna’t go to the bank yet, I’m wanted” she explained, popping a grape in her mouth before continuing, “And i get money the same way you do, through deals and private missions” she answered. 

 “Do you have private clients?” he asked, he had never been a private assaissin nor had he ever met anyone who was a private assassin, he was curious about it. “Yeah, most of them are politicians or other gang leaders” she answered, “anyway when is the earliest that I can get out of here?” she questioned, successfully diverting the topic. 

  “Probably in a few days” he answered, being vague on purpose. “Be more specific” she demanded making him chuckle, “Aish, so demanding” he teased, before continuing, “The day after tomorrow, if all your injuries heal properly” he finished, heading to the door, 

   “ Ynnnn holding Jungkook us again I see” Hobi playfully scolded as he brought a bag of snacks to the table, giving her a bag of shrimp crackers that she had asked for when he had told her that he was going to town for business and asked if she needed anything. “Thank you!” she said, grabbing the packet before ripping it apart, “Aish, I didn’t know you liked them that much or I would have bought more” Hobi said watching as the young assassin devoured the crackers two at a time. “You guys literally gave me fruits, which sane person would have fruit as a snack” she accused as Jungkook left the room quietly so he didn’t have the patience for her whining right now.

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                      2 DAYS LATER

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“I’m free, I’m free, I’m free” Yn yelled as she went into Namjoon’s office, Namjoon just groaned at how noisy she was before asking her to take a seat. “Do you have somewhere to be immediately?” he asked her as the rest of the boys filed in to join the discussion. 

       “No where important, but I need to get my money” she answered, Namjoon nodded, Jungkook had told him about it earlier. “Will you do that before or after your test? and when do you want to take your test?” he asked making her look at him with a raised eyebrow, “can I finish the test now and I can leave for a short while to get my shit done before I come back” she asked, he nodded.

       A gunshot echoed through the compund as Yn moved out of the way, Jimin had fired a wax bullet at her, it wasn’t meant to hit her. Just to warn her. She quickly climbed onto the chair as Namjoon yelled the rules, she could run anywhere in the mansion at the count of three, but the moment she was hit with the bullet she was out, 30 men were out there to catch her, she had an hour and if she passed the test she was eligible to join the gang.

 It was basically a game of tag except that it was 1 against 30 and she didn’t have any weapons either, “Do I get a gun too?” she asked, scanning the room frantically for a way out. “Sure, if you want but it will have only 5 bullets, anyone who gets hit cannot hunt you anymore” Namjoon said, laying out the conditions out for her, she nodded and was quickly tossed a revolver, she checked her ammo before tucking the gun away in her waist band. “Do I get to hurt anyone?” she asked again, gaining a nod from Namjoon.

          She held her breath, hearing multiple guns being loaded, which way to go? should she make for the door? no. Taehyung was guarding it, what about the table? no again, Namjoon was staring at her with a revolver in hand, casually spinning it like it was a toy. She never thought a man with a revolver, ready to shoot her would look that sexyy.

She looked left and right, Jungkook and Yoongi were on one side waiting for Namjoon’s count and it was the same case for Jimin and Jin. “1!” Namjoon hollered as she looked all around the room, she should be prepared, “2!” he counted as her eyes landed on the window, her mouth curved into a smirk, she found her escape. 

  “3!” Namjoon yelled as she leaped out off the chair as high as she could, landing directly in front of the window before jumping over, “GET HER!!!!!!!” Hobi yelled as he barged out of the office chasing after her. 

    Yn’s thigh stung as she landed in the floor below the office, it looked like a sort of library with rows and rows of floor to ceiling shelves full of books, she quickly jamp atop a shelf, laying herself flat aginst it as she dragged herself by her hands to the end of the row noticing Beomgyu not very far away from her. She silently crept down, using the shelves as a ladder to climb down from the top, she clenched her teeth when a few books fell from the shelf she was holding on to.

   Beomgyu turned around to see what the sound was, he looked down at the fallen books with confusion, ‘must have been the wind’ he thought with a shrug turning around when a sharp pain went through his head before blackness enveloped him.

    ‘Heh, weak boi” Yn thought as she rubbed her knuckles, despite how effective temple punches were, they were a bitch when it came to the pain to her knuckeles. Just as she was going to relax from this dumb game she heard Hobi’s voice outside. He was loudly talking to Jimin who was being just as loud. 

    She climed the shelves when she heard them some closer and almost lost her shit when she saw them enter the library, she didn’t want to hurt them or shoot them, yet. She peeped down at them watching as Hoseok went through the library never once looking up before he stop right under the shelf she was on. 

  “Yah, Hobi hyung, what do yout think of her?” Jimin asked as he leaned against the shelf, they didn’t seem to sense her presence in the room. “She’s nice, she’ll fit in well with us” Hobi admitted as he moved closer to him, pushing Jimin against the shelf, Yn almost popped an imaginary boner when she saw them roughly kiss each other. She wanted to look away, she really did, but she couldn’t tae her eyes away from the two of them.

     She made the mistake of trying to get more comfortable, caying the shelf to creak making the two lovers move away from each other, she quickly grabbed her gun, moving as silently as she could as Hobi and Jimin looked around to find her, “Ynnieee, I know your here” Hobi sang as he walked into the row a little away from her, “click, aim, shoot” she whispered to herself as her hands followed the actions watching with glee as Hobi yelped attracting Jimin’s attention.

    Yn quickly jumped out of the window again, climing up the water pipe to Namjoon’s office only to see Yoongi relaxing in Namjjon’s boss chair, a glass of bourbon in front of him, she hung by the window sill, trying her hardest not to be seen as but she felt someone grab onto her leg, pulling her down. She quickly kicked the hand off, looking down to see Jimin with a mischevious grin on his face,   

    “Yah, Jimin-ah let go!!” she yelled as she struggled to maintain her grip on the window sill, Yoongi heard her yell and grinned as he walked towards the window , he looked down at her with a sadistic grin on his face, he looked like Scar from the Lion ing for a moment there, with his hands on Yn’s, ready to push her off just like how Scar had done to Mufasa. 

   “Okayyy super villain, pull me up and I’ll give you like 2 million won” she bribed, kicking at JImin’s hands aggressively, “Make that 4 million and you have a deal” he countered, “how about 3 million instead?” she bargained, giving him an almost blinding grin when he pulled her up. 

   “You better keep that bargain up and don’t kill anyone” he said as he dusted his hands off before retaking his seat.”I swear I will! and I can’t promise that I won’t kill anyone” Yn yelled as she casually strolled out of the office only to come face to face with Taehyung, he gave her a naughty grin, “Gotcha” he said, grabbing her arm, she quickly jabbed at his neck and the unsuspecting fellow fell to the ground with a thud. 

  “I told you not to kill anyone” Yoongi said, peeking from a crack in the door. “He’s not dead” she assured as she made for the staircase, crawling up so no one can spot her. She checked the time in the fancy Rolex that she had stolen from an unconcious Tae, 30 minutes had passed, 30 more to go. 

  She snuck up the stairs when she saw Yeonjun on the other end of the sprawling corridor, quickly preparing her gun she set her aim, steadying her hand before she pulled the trigger, the gunshot was loud and echoed through the compund as the bullet hit Yeonjun in the side, he didn’t seem surprised infact, he tured towards her with a smirk before gesturing for her to look up.

       She tilted her neck to look above her to see seventeen men staring down at her, their guns aimed straight at her, she held her breath as she jamp down thw stairs right as they all fired their guns, she almost got hit more than once but she was quick enough to get out of the way before they could touch her.

  She huffed as she ran down the stairs, scolding herself for not hitting the gym as regularly as she could. She could feel how unfit she was, she was out of breath and panting, she was hungry from all the running around and she realized just how much of her stamina had gone down in the last few days.

   She huffed and cursed as she ran downstairs, but hurriedly crept away when she heard footsteps, she cursed to herself as she hid, holding her gun out incase she might need it. She took a deep breath, waiting for the person to pass her when pain shot through her arm, Jungkook stood next to her, his grip tight on her elbow causing her great pain. She quickly jabbed at his stomach making him let go of her before she grabbed his gun from his pocket, he seemed to be unprepared to catch her explaining why his gun was still in the hollister.

          She pointed her own gun at Jungkook’s head, a grin taking over her tired and sweaty face, Jungkook almost fell for her in that instand, seeing her hold a gun to his head, looking fucking gorgeous with at smile on her face. He steped closer, pressing his head against the nozzle of the gun, Yn instinctively took a step bac only for her back to hit the wall when a sudden yell made them junp away from each other. 

     “You’re supposed to shoot each other, not make out you know” Jin yelled looking down at them from the top of the stairs, he wasn’t gonna lie, he had felt thirsty when he had seen the two of them in that position. Yn pointed Jungkook’s gun at Seokjin and pulled the trigger only for Jin to duck away fromt he bullet, “Stay fucking still” Yn growled as she took aim again.

      Jungkook almost went feral at the sound Yn made. Her gun still pressed to his head. The next shot rang out, hitting Jin in the chest and Jin dramatically fell to the ground holding his heart, “What a damsel,” Yn scoffed as she kicked Jungkook away from her before shooting him with his own gun. 

   Jungkook wasn’t even offended that he had lost the game, he happily hopped up the stairs to join Jin hyung who was going to the kitchen to make a snack for himself, the bright orange stains on their clothes, a batch of both honor and shame.

  Yn looked around the mansion when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see Soobin standing behind her with an unimpressed look on his face, “Supp” she said with a wave, “everyone is looking for you, Jimin hyung is convinced that you ran away”  he said, rushing her to Namjoon’s mansion. 

   The boys were quiet surprised to see Yn being shoved into the office, her face puffy and her hair sticking out in every way, thry thought she had ran away. “Where were you,we’ve been lookig for you everywhere” Namjoon said as Seokjin walked towards her to take the revolvers from her, tossing the purple one to Jungkook and tucking the other one in his own holister.

   “Taking a nap” she answered cheekily as Namjoon got behind his desk, “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” he asked as he pulled out a box from one of the drawers, she shook her head, craning her neck to be able to see what was in the box.

   “Good, because you have a mission” Namjoon said, pulling out a sleek dagger from the box, its handle had a snake design, making it look like the snake was coiling itself around the handle, the sharp blade, glinting in the light. 

    “Yahh, so pretty” Yn said as she reached for the dagger only for Namjoon to pull it back, “not for you, I’m supposed to take a blood oath of loyalty” he said, as he took a hold of her wrist, “Don’t cut too deep” she said as he placed the blade on her thumb, he pushed down on it causing it to bleed before letting a few drop trickle down her thumb onto the paper with the oath written on it, right next to her name.

“Congratulations Yn, you are now a member of the Bulletproof crime organisation, I’ll give you a week to settle all matters outside the organisation.” Namjoon said, putting the paper away.

  “Can I still continue with my private assassinations?” she asked, sucking on her bleeding thumb, “Yes, on the condition that you give 10% of whatever you earn to the mafia and we have a say in which missions you accept” Yoongi said as he too got up to go have dinner. 

 “As long as you don’t push too much, we’re good.” she said, before following him to the dining room. 

    She needed to eat up, she had work to do tomorrow.

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A/n: Next chapter will be up whenever I find time to write. <3

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Taglist:

@thefreddieman

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[simpsiren]

about the roommate

park seonghwa x reader

main masterlist

description. you talk about your weird relationship with the roommate you’ve been with for so long yet still dont know much about

genre. roommates au, fluff, seonghwa hinting at reader that they like them

warnings. nonee

a/n. hihii so i wanted to try writing for ateez since ive been doing a lot of nct ff already. its my first time so i doubt that it’ll be accurate but i got the idea from this post by @darling-akaashi so i hope it will be decent. i never thought that it would be this long but oh well HAHA enjoyy :D

how did you even become roommates with someone like him? you dont even know. all you knew was that you were finding someone to share the apartment rent with and it just so happens that your friend at college, wooyoung, has a friend who was looking for an apartment.

and now here you are. a year and a half of sharing an apartment with seonghwa yet the two of you are in your separate rooms. the only interaction you ever made today was at breakfast where seonghwa cooked for you scrambled eggs and toasted bread.

there’s wasn’t much you knew about him at first. but as you slowly but surely try to accomplish your mission of getting to know seonghwa (since you didn’t like being awkward with people all the time), you start to learn a thing or two about him.

you were glad that after a year and a half of staying with him, you got to know more about him, despite the fact that the interaction between the two of you still needed some work.

[ONE] : he’s a clean freak.

you were feeling tired from a long day of school and all you thought of doing while walking home was to sit on the couch and resume your anime marathon.

you unlock your door to find seonghwa mopping the floor. you nod your head slowly as you close the door and take off your shoes before taking any step further.

“didnt you mop the floor yesterday?” you ask, placing your keys on the kitchen counter along with your bag on the chair of the dining table.

“yeah.” was all you heard from seonghwa as you pour yourself a glass of grape juice. “you dont have to mop again-“

“its a habit.” seonghwa replies simply. with your cup in hand, you make your way to the living room, where seonghwa is currently mopping. you take a seat on the couch and grab the controller to turn on the tv. “hey wanna watch attack on titans with me?” seonghwa was mopping the floor in between the couch you’re sitting on and the coffee table and stops in front of you, raising an eyebrow.

“i dont watch anime?” you furrow your eyebrows and frown. “come on its fun! stop your cleaning and at least watch one episode.” you grab seonghwa’s arm and pull him down to sit next to you, making him flinch a little and quickly placing the mop beside the couch.

“how am i suppose to watch when i dont know what happened before?” you roll your eyes.

“if you find this episode good then you can watch it from the start in your free time.”

seonghwa sighs and and stands up, walking away to keep the mop before taking a seat beside you again and getting comfortable. “this better be worth it. im suppose to clean the toilet right now.”

“that can wait.” you nudge your arm into his chest, making him let out another long sigh before watching the show silently.

[ONE.2]

it was a saturday morning as you went to sleep at 4am. hence, making you wake up at 11am in the morning. however, you have always been laying around in your bed for about an hour or so before getting out of your room. when the clock striked 12, you thought that it would be a good idea to get out of your room and have lunch. gathering up all your energy, you brought yourself out of bed and lazily walk out of your room.

as you walked down the hallway, the first thing you saw was seonghwa cleaning the counter top of the kitchen. you clicked your tongue and walked over to where seonghwa was.

“did you make lunch yet?”

seonghwa looks up at you and shakes his head. “its a saturday so im spring cleaning the house.” you rolled your eyes and shake your head.

“you do that every single day!” you whine. seonghwa raises his eyebrow. “i like to keep the house neat unlike you.” you let out a soft ‘tsk’.

you have to admit, you were not a clean person at all. the only reason why the apartment is clean is because of seonghwa’s habit of being well organised and meticulous. basically everything in the apartment but your room is squeaky clean. although you see seonghwa staring at your room and looked like he’s holding back the strong urge to clean it for you, he doesn’t really do anything about the fact that you are the complete opposite of him. you dont know why but you only shrug it off.

“ill help you today, alright? then you can quickly cook something up for us. im hella hungry right now.”

seonghwa lifts his head up from the table and scoffs with a slight smile. you furrow your eyebrows and frown. “what’s that face for, huh?”

“this is the first time you offered to help. id say thank you but i know you’re only doing it because we both know im the only one that can cook.” seonghwa says confidently. you purse your lips and nodded your head.

“you’re right. but i’ll still help. so, what should i do?” seonghwa tosses the cloth that he was using to clean the kitchen counter. you took a step back as you quickly got a hold of it.

“wash it and wipe the bookshelf.” you let out a long sigh before flashing him a bright smile and headed over to the bookshelf. while you were wiping the sides of the bookshelf, you could have sworn that you saw seonghwa looking at you with a smile and a light blush of pink on his cheeks. you pretended not to notice though, and shrug it off.

[TWO] : he’s a great cook.

you still remember the first day you came to the apartment. the first thing you see your new roommate doing was cleaning. like intense cleaning. it was late at night and you didn’t bother to even greet the stranger since you felt awkward and wanted to rest for the night.

however, at about two in the morning, you were laying down in your room when you felt the need to have a night snack. you stepped out of your room and went to the kitchen. the whole apartment was dark except for the dimly lit lamp at the kitchen. you jumped a little when you hear seonghwa’s voice coming from the living room.

“y/n?” you turn around to see seonghwa chilling on the couch with his phone. the living room was completely dark and you could only see his face from the light illuminating from his phone.

“i was just getting a snack to eat.” you said as you opened the fridge to look for something to eat. unfortunately, there wasnt anything that looked like it would fill your midnight appetite. you hear seonghwa standing up from the couch at the back and walking towards you. you tilted your head to the back and see seonghwa standing behinf you. you tale a step back.

“i can cook something if you want.”

“no no its fine i just need a simple snack.” seonghwa kept quiet for a moment as you went back to the fridge to look for food again, as if something might magically pop up. but of course nothing did.

“well i didnt think of getting any snacks when i moved in. ill make something.” seonghwa walks over to the fridge and nudges your arm, making you move to the kitcen counter and leaning your hip against it as you watch seonghwa get to work.

you were looking through your phone, distracted when you heard the noise of two bowls being olaced on the table. you lift your head up and noticed that seonghwa made yoghurt with cherries and raspberries. it wasnt your idea of a midnight snack but at this point, anything could go in your stomach.

“thanks.” you whisper softly as you drag the bowl near to you. seonghwa only hums in response as the two of you take a bite at the same time. your mouth gapes open as your head slowly tilts up from your bowl to look at seonghwa. he was casually eating when his raises an eyebrow at your weird expression.

“how.. how does this taste so good? what did you do it? did you poison it?!” seonghwa blinks at you a few times and shakes his head slowly. your forehead creases as you look at him suspiciously. “i never really liked yoghurt but holy shit.” you quickly take another bite.

“i think you’re just hungry. it tastes fine to me.” seonghwa says in a monotoned lazy manner and grabs the bowl and taking a seat at the dining table. you purse your lips into a straight line and grab your bowl as well and walking down the hallway to your room. before you open your door to go in, you quickly turn your head to the dining table.

“thanks for the yoghurt! ill wash the bowl later.” seonghwa doesnt react, keeping his eyes on his phone. you gave a weird look before heading inside. you sigh.

he’s going to be hard to talk to.

[TWO.2]

“its your birthday, right?” your jumped in your seat when seonghwa suddenly appeared beside you on the couch. “uhuh.. how’d you know?” you say softly, nodding your head.

“wooyoung told me. lll make you a cake or something. anything you want to eat?” you blink at him a few times, your mouth still gaping open as you were shocked about a few things. 1. he talking to you in a more open matter and 2. he actually want to make you something for your birthday.

“make me mac and cheese, please! i love the way you cook it!” you smiled brightly. seonghwa smiled back and coughed, only to return to his monotoned face. you laugh softly. you found it cute somehow.

“i wouldn’t have allowed it since its unhealthy but since its your birthday-”

“thank you!” you leaned in to hug seonghwa. the didnt hug you back, so you quickly pulled away. you noticed him blushing again, this time it was more obvious. you shook it off, despite knowing you felt butterflies in your stomach. “ill go out to get groceries then.” seonghwa stands up from the couch and heads inside his room to get ready.

you smiled to yourself constantly as you waited for seonghwa to finish making the mac and cheese. you sigh in satisfaction as the smell of the delicious food fills the air in the apartment. you tapped your feet excitedly as you had your eyes glued onto seonghwa with the pan in his hands. your face lit up the moment the starts walking towards you. you clap your hands as he places it down on the dining table.

“fuck it smells and looks to good.” you moan out. seonghwa lets out a soft laugh, making you blush just from hearing him do that. “if i made this any other day, i would’ve asked you to pay for the groceries.” you roll your eyes.

“come on dont be rude to me.” you grab a fork and spoon, bringing your plate near the pan and cutting out a slice for yourself. “thanks for the mac and cheese.” seonghwa only nods his head and took a slice for himself before the two of you ate together slowly, indulging the savoury and amazing taste of one of seonghwa’s best dishes he has ever made dor you.

you appreciated times like thae with seonghwa. alrhough not much interaction was made during meal times, you really felt that he cared for you. making meals you like on special occasions, and he’s always asking you what you want to eat, despite the fact that he might not be comfortable with the idea, he doesn’t fail to whip up a great meal. you liked that about seonghwa.

[THREE] : he’s a great listener.

you basically the worse day that day. for some reason, everything just had to go wrong. the only thing you felt the whole day were anger and sadness, more so towards anger. it was late at night yet you were still fuming in anger, only wanting to let it all out the moment you stepped into the apartment.

you unlocked the door and dropped your bag beside you and slammed the door shut. of course the piercing sound of the door made seonghwa lift his head up in an instant. you notice him laying down on the couch with his phone and usual.

stomping over to the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of cold water. you chugged the whole cup of water fast and forcefully place the cup on the counter. you clearly felt seonghwa’s eyes on you. you look up from your cup and notice him looking shocked, his mouth gaping open slightly.

“what?” you said, running your hand through your hair in frustration.

“you okay...?” you hear seonghwa ask. “does it look like im okay? today felt as if i entered a shit hole.” you huff. you made your way over to the couch, leaving your empty cup on the counter.

“move your ass.” you hiss at seonghwa. he raises an eyebrow and gets up from his laying position, proceeding to sit up and let you take a seat beside him.

you sit down and let your body sink into the couch, laying your head back as you sigh to calm yourself down. “what happened?” seonghwa whispers, putting away his phone and turning his attention to you.

you purse your lips into a thin line and slowly looked up at him. his eyes were filled with concern and his voice was gentle too. he hasn’t been this concerned about you before.

“apparently i got my best friend to dress up all cute and fancy so that she can have a date with my boyfriend behind my back.” you scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. you see seonghwa licking his lips nervously as he nodded his head.

“a shit show if you ask me. i saw him waiting for her in front of the shop i was working at.” you grab the pillow behind you and hug it close to your chest with you digging your face into it. “just how cruel can people get?” your voice was muffled but you knew seonghwa heard you loud and clear. you felt his hand resting on your back, patting it gently.

“its fine. rant all you want.” you took a deep breath and slammed the pillow onto your lap. you felt that it made seonghwa jump a little but he never fails to keep his composure in check. you could never be like him.

the night, all you did was talk, cried and screamed your heart out. and seonghwa was there to just listen to you. he didn’t react much, but he did nod a few times hear and there to let you know that he understood what you were saying. he wasnt so affectionate that he would hug you when you cried, but it felt good to just have him sit there with you while you let out all your anger and frustration. you figured that having him as your listener was his way of showing comfort for you.

[THREE.2]

it was 4am. you and seonghwa have been drinking since 2am. why? you had a bad day and you felt rhe need to destress with some alcohol. seonghwa wouldn’t have allowed you to get drunk but he was apparently having a bad day too and felt like he wanted to get a little drunk to forget everything that day.

“dont you know how fucking stupid that is? it only happens to me. why?!” you groan as you take down another shot. seonghwa fills up your cup again.

“just forget them. they’re being idiots.” seonghwa whispers. you gap your mouth open and roll your eyes. “how can i forgot something like that?!” you shout angrily, slamming your hand on the table. seonghwa laughs in a lazy manner.

“you’re cute when you’re mad.”

“excuse me?” you tilt your head to the side, wondering if you heard seonghwa’s words clearly.

“nothing.” you shrug it off and shake your head.

“by the way..” you started off. seonghwa lifts his head up from the table and lets out a ‘hm?’

“why arent you telling me why you’re drinking? you don’t normally do this. you dont even let me drink unless its a special occasion. i rarely see you drunk.”

seonghwa raises both his eyebrows and sigh. “i had a bad day. but yours sounds worse so ill let you do all the ranting.” seonghwa starts playing with his shot glass, circling his index finger around its rim.

you clicked your tongue. “but its always been about me. you cook me my favourite meals, you do all the cleaning and you’re always here for me when im pissed. i feel bad about it..” you quickly glance at seonghwa. its the blushing again. you started to accept the fact that you had an effect on him, instead of avoiding the fact that he might have feelings for you.

“i guess im always doing those things because...” he leans forward over the table, getting close to your face. you start to grow nervous and your heart started beating quickly. you held a fist to your chest, breathing slowly to calm you down, but it failed. its the first time you’ve seem seonghwa like this. he looked... hot?

“do you know the answer?” seonghwa asks, tilting his head to the side as you watch his eyes glaze over you whole face as if he’s admiring every inch of it.

“no?” your breathing stopped for a moment when seonghwa gets even closer. this time, your noses were touching. seonghwa chuckles lowly. why did that sound so good all of a sudden?

“i know that you know. i wonder why you’re shying away.” seonghwa’s lips immediately connected with yours. you blinked your eyes rapidly as you tried to process the situation. you couldn’t hold back. his lips felt great against yours. its like all the worries that have been piling up in you have been washed away from a simple kiss.

who knew you’d get this close to your mysterious roommate? its a drastic start to a good relationship nonetheless.

[leelysian]

Changbin as your older brother AU 💖✨

genre: fluff, bullet point fic

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Changbin. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

A/N: hi :) Sorry if this is kinda bad. I’m running out of ideas for this series(?). It’s really hard to write these aus for the members when there’s limited knowledge about them and when you’re trying to make everything seem different without making it seem like they’re all one dimensional and cut from the same cloth. Thank you to everyone who has been reading these older brother aus and thank you for being patient. Please leave some feedback, it really keeps me going. ❤️

☆ Let’s start with you as babies.

☆ Changbin would for sure as kiddy questions like “How did the baby get inside mummy’s tummy?” “When will baby come out?” “How does baby poop?”

☆ Your parents either answered him vaguely or somehow dodged his questions.

☆ Would sleep in your parents bedroom close to your mum to protect her baby bump.

☆ Would be hella excited to feel you kick in your mum’s tummy.

☆ Would say cute things to the baby bump. “Come out quickly baby I can’t wait to play with you.” “We can play with *insert favourite toy* together.” “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” I am close to tears

☆ Doesn’t care about the gender.

☆ When you were born, he was extremely excited to see you but little Binnie patiently waited till your parents had their moment first until they ushered him to the hospital bed.

☆ He was wide eyed as he held you as if scared to hurt you. He smiled when he stroked your cheek with a finger and smiled wider when you grabbed onto his finger.

☆ CUDDLES, CUDDLES AAAAAAAND MORE CUDDLES

☆ Tried to help your parents take care of you but most of the time failed.

☆ *tries to put pants on you* *gets kicked in the face instead*

☆ The only thing he could properly do was cuddle you as he fed you a bottle and somehow you ate properly if he was the one feeding you when you were being fussy.

☆ *you two fall asleep while he’s holding you*

☆ Adoring/curious stares.

☆ Fed you a bit of lemon for jokes when you were starting to grow teeth and had the time of his fricking life when he saw your reaction.

☆ I’m talking the kind of laughs he does with his whole body.

☆ Helped you learn how to walk patiently. Just laughed when you fell on your butt.

☆ Taught you how to high 5 at a very young age.

☆ You talked to him a lot. Not like he understood what you said because it was mostly babbling but it was fun for both of you.

☆ You broke a lot of his toys. He’d get upset until he got new ones.

☆ The one toy he never shared with you was Gyu, his plushie.

☆ Fast forward you’re older and know how to walk and talk coherently, Changbin is a kid.

☆ Changbin wants cookies but they’re on the top shelf and your mum purposefully put them there so neither of you could reach.

☆ “Changbin what are you doing?” 

☆ Changbin: 👀

☆”I’m gonna tell mum~”

☆ “NO DON’T. If you help me, I’ll give you a cookie then you have to promise me you won’t tell mum.”

☆ Your smart ass contemplated for a few seconds before you agreed, “Ok what do we do?”

☆ “If I lift you up can you grab the jar? Don’t drop it.”

☆ “Yes.”

☆ Somehow both of you managed to retrieve the jar unscathed. Why none of you thought to grab a chair and do it, I don’t know.

☆ One cookie turned to two then three until the jar was half empty and your dad caught you. 

☆ Everyone except you two with crumbs around your mouths in the room:️  

👁️👄👁️

☆ Your dad walked in with brooding eyes. He grabbed a cookie and started eating quietly, “It’s a secret.”

☆ All three of you smiled happily and continued munching on the cookies.

☆ Until a while later your mum walked in and gasped, “YOU ATE ALL THE COOKIES?! *insert dad’s name* YOU WERE IN ON THIS TOO!”

☆ The three of you gulped nervously until you said, “No mum look! We saved a few for you!” The three of you smile innocently.

☆ Your mum sighed and smiled exasperatedly. “This is the last time.” A chorus of agreement sang throughout the room yet nobody meant a single word.

☆ Most of the time you two were hyperactive and played around so much you’d be knocked out cold by the time it was around 9 pm. 

☆ Your parents had to lug you to your shared room.

☆ You two played tag a lot, he was really fast so you’d always get tagged very quickly.

☆ HIDE AND SEEK

☆ Running. So much running. You’re the hyper kids.

☆ Rock paper scissors. Winner flicks the loser’s forehead. Changbin always took the penalty but never really doled it out on you, if he did it wasn’t too hard. 

☆ Races. “LAST ONE IS A ROTTEN EGG!” 

☆ Changbin could easily win, but sometimes he slowed down purposefully to let you win for a change.

☆ Giggles. Giggles everywhere. Giggles all the time.

☆ Pillow forts in your room. 

☆ Tickle fights.

☆ Cuddling together while watching cartoons.

☆ You thought he was cool.

☆ He liked you thinking so highly of him.

☆ Made him want to be even cooler for you.

☆ He’d ruffle your hair playfully.

☆ He’d pinch your nose. “AAAAHHH”

☆ He’d pull your hair.

☆ PIGGY BACK RIDES!!!!!!!!!

☆ Such a joker. It was harmless fun.

☆ Once you doodled on his school notes. He got mad and stopped talking to you.

☆ He rarely got angry at you, sure you two bickered sometimes and sometimes got whiny at each other.

☆ You apologised with a treat you got, instead of eating it by yourself, you gave it to him as a peace offering. 

☆ He didn’t eat it himself, he shared. “It’s okay just don’t do it again. These are important. You’ll know when you get older.”

☆ “Ok. I’m sorry.”

☆ Things became alright again.

☆ Fast forward you’re tweens/teens/young adults.

☆ The dynamic is wild.

☆ You two would always goof around like idiots.

☆ Changbin annoyed you a lot.

☆ “Y/N look over there!” you’re stuck in visible confusion. *smacks your head and runs* 

☆ “CHANGBIN!”

☆ You’re eating chips. “Y/n what’s that?” “What’s what?” *steals bag* 

☆ “When are you gonna stop tricking me?”

☆ “When are you gonna stop falling for that?” 

☆ You get pissed.

☆ Then it escalates into a wrestling match until ultimately you get hurt and start nearly crying in pain.

☆ “FUCK! SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY HERE YOU CAN HIT ME BACK. PLEASE DON’T TELL MUM! PLEASE STOP CRYING!” 

☆ You’re watching tv peacefully. Changbin walks in with a nerf gun/water gun. “REACH FOR THE SKY!”

☆ The living room turns into a warzone or a set for mission impossible.

☆ You ‘borrow’ his clothes. “Y/N STOP STEALING MY SHIT!”

☆ He ‘borrows’ your charger. “GET YOUR OWN CHARGER CHANGBIN!”

☆ He casually strolls into the living room, sits next to you with feet propped up on the table, snatches the remote when you’re not looking and changes the channel. 

☆ “HEY I WAS WATCHING THAT!”

☆ “Well too bad. I don’t wanna watch it.”

☆ “GIMME THE REMOTE!” “No :}”

☆ Another wrestling match for the remote.

☆ You hide his glasses. Basically keep them with you.

☆ “Hey y/n have you seen my glasses?” “Nope.”

☆ He looks EVERYWHERE. 

☆ You keep them on top of the tv when he’s away. “Hey Changbin found it on the tv.”

☆ “That’s weird I don’t remember putting them there. The heck?”

☆ “Maybe you’re just losing your mind. Already becoming an oldie?”

☆ “I may be old but I can still kick your ass.”

☆ You’re the younger sibling that either grows up to the same height as him quicker or grows taller than him somehow.

☆ He hates it. You thrive on it. “Hehe shortie. Can you even reach?”

☆ So he started working out to tone up.

☆ You’re barely able to lift a heavy box. He picks it up with ease. “Do you even lift?”

☆ He’s washing the dishes. You leave your dish for him and sneak out. “Y/N! I SWEAR-”

☆ You have a lit music taste because of him. 

☆ You’re sleeping, he’s up early. You need to go to school. Instead of waking you up like a normal person, he pulls the blankets completely off of you and tackles you. “Y/N WAKE UP!”

☆ “CHANGBIN YOU CRAZY BASTARD! DO YOU WANNA DIE?!”

☆ You two are eating. He’ll finish eating seemingly at the speed of light and stare at you eating. “I’m not sharing.”

☆ “I didn’t say anything.”

☆ awkward silence

☆ You pass your food to him. “You owe me, pabbit (pig + rabbit)”

☆ Both of you forget about it later on.

☆ He’s hella clumsy.

☆ He’d definitely break a glass or plate or vase.

☆ He’s the type to fix something just enough to make it seem not broken so the next person who uses it would think they broke it.

☆ Anything to not get his ass handed to him by mummy dearest.

☆ You do this thing to annoy him which is basically mock/copy him when he tells you something. 

☆ “Hey you know-” “Hey you know-” “you know that-” “you know that-” this continues a few more times until he screams and tackles you.

☆ You did this thing where you literally jumped on his back when he was unaware and you'd stick to him. The scream was worth bursting your eardrums. Worked every time.

☆ He was built he could carry you.

☆ Another thing is copying his actions.

☆ He yawns, you yawn. He scratches his nose, you copy. He stretches, you stretch. He shifts, you copy. 

☆ “STOP COPYING ME!” “Stop copying me” “I said STOP COPYING ME!” “I said stop copying me!”

☆ “I hate you.” “I love you too bro.”

☆ His friends like you and a lot of times you hang out with him and his friends.

☆ He wears the weirdest stuff just for shits and giggles.

☆ “Hey y/n.” “What?” you look at him and burst out laughing.

☆ Where he got a shark head mask, you had no idea. You had tears running down your face as he started to sing and sexy dance to baby shark.

☆ “STOP I’M GONNA PEE!”

☆ You two say the darndest things.

☆ “I just realised- if vampires can’t go out in the sunlight then wouldn’t the moonlight kill them too?

☆ “How?”

☆ “Moonlight is just the sunlight shining from behind the moon dumbass.”

☆ “Oh shit you’re right.”

☆ Another example of this would be:

☆ “The hospital is the only place you leave without entering.”

☆ Both of you:  👁️👄👁️

☆ You’re eating watermelon. You bite some of the white bit.

☆ “I just realised the worst part of the watermelon tastes like a cucumber.”

☆ awkward silence “wait you’re right.”

☆ “Anyways, here you can wash the plates.”

☆ “Y/N!”

☆ AEGYO FLUFFY GOODNESS

☆ Will use everything in his cuteness arsenal to get what he wants.

☆ You hate to admit it actually works sometimes.

☆ “Y/n~ pleeeaaaseee get me some cookies.”

☆ “No.”

☆ He keeps whining and rocking or shaking you. “PLEEEEAAAAAASEEE”

☆ “FINE!”

☆ Who’s really the older sibling and who’s really the younger sibling?

☆ “You know you could’ve just gotten them yourself with the time it took you to annoy me into getting them for you?”

☆ He just smiles toothily. 

☆ “If you could choose between a giant me or 5 mini me’s which would you choose?”

☆ “Neither I’d rather die.”

☆ “Y/N! WHYYYYY” he whines and shakes you.

☆ He’s always there for you when you need him the most. He’ll always comfort you with tight hugs. 

☆ He’s the type of person to make silly jokes and make you smile or laugh to make you feel better instead of sort of brooding with you.

☆ This is only acceptable with him, if anyone else tried to be goofy when you were upset it wouldn’t work.

☆ Because it’s Changbin’s thing. Only he has that power.

☆ You rarely see him upset. He’s always smiling, joking around and acting cute.

☆ One time, really late at night you saw him in the kitchen sitting with a glass of milk. He hadn’t noticed you. 

☆ This was off putting because you rarely saw him this quiet. He’s always laughing and loud.

☆ He was staring off in the distance, the glass gathering condensation from being out of the fridge and into warm temperature.

☆ “Can’t sleep?” He was startled and shook his head no. “What’s on your mind?”

☆ “It’s nothing.” You sat with a glass of water. “You know you can tell me, right?”

☆ “I know I just don’t wanna bother you.” he said and this confused you. “Why would you be bothering me? That’s absurd.”

☆ He shrugged, “I dunno, seems like all I do is annoy people these days.”

☆ You pat his back. “Hey, that’s not true. Well it only applies to me because you’re my sibling. That’s a thing. Is there anything specific you’re talking about?”

☆ He stays quiet for what seems like the longest time until he unloads. 

☆ You’re not good with words like he is. You try your best to listen and give sensible input. 

☆ Changbin admired that about you. Despite being younger, you were sometimes mature and understanding. You were authentic, you never tried to be something you weren’t.

☆ Which is why he always valued your words. 

☆ Afterwards if he had anything on his mind, sometimes he’d vent to you.

☆ You the ability to make his insecurities disappear simply because he feels stupid for the way he thinks when he talks to you. 

☆ You make his problems miniscule, not in a belittling way but in a way that makes him realise how things could be different or done differently.

☆ Your sense of perception was something amazing.

☆ This is why Changbin believed you were the best sibling he could ask for.

☆ But little did he know, you wouldn’t be able to function properly if he wasn’t the goofy, silly, clumsy, idiotic Changbin who exists today.

☆ He’s just the right type of flavour you need in your bland life.

☆ don’t be shy put some more.

☆ He’s the right balance of a clown, a baby and a guardian angel.

☆ He’s extremely caring, loyal, kind hearted and annoying.

☆ You’d change absolutely nothing.

[catscraftsandcommentary]

thoughts on tiny!Steve/werewolf!Bucky shrunkyclunky AU

Because I’m too fucking lazy to actually type it into a proper fic and edit it and do all the fancy-ness that it would take to, y’know, make it a properly written story.

SO

Vaguely fantasy/colonial setting, somewhere with lots of forests. Steve lives in a small town called - of course - Brooklyn, with best friend Peggy (local beauty and hell on heels.) Also with various non-friends Rumlow (sheriff), Rumlow’s minions, Alexander Pierce (mayor/governor of the area), and various townsfolk. Who often don’t like Steve because he’s constantly poor, constantly sick, constantly fighting and/or preaching about how their normal behavior is terrible.

Peggy thinks he’s great. Rumlow, who wants Peggy, despises him.

So at some point, Steve does something to piss Rumlow off more than usual. For a while, I thought about “stopping Rumlow when he won’t take ‘no’ from a girl at the local tavern and Steve reads him the riot act/starts a fight with him (these are pretty much the same thing, lbr.) BUT, sudden better idea, Rumlow comes up with some new, ridiculous plot to get Peggy to change her mind about him (never gonna happen, bro), but Steve ruins it somehow.

Like Rumlow commissions something for Peggy (clothing? art? jewelry?), but then extorts the artist to get out of paying, and Steve, who is PISSED, tells Peggy, who refuses the gift very publicly AND calls Rumlow a thief, extortionist, etc.

Hell. On. Heels.

So Rumlow immediately blames all his problems on Steve, and sentences him to banishment, permanent, on penalty of death. If he’s not out of town by sunrise, Rumlow will be glad to skip the wait.

Except oh yeah, Rumlow and the bros are going hunting tomorrow, leaving at dawn, so they’ll have to check in that Steve’s gone - and that Peggy isn’t hiding him - before dawn, so, y’know, he might want to get moving. 

Cutscene to Peggy’s house, where she’s trying to talk Steve out of a suicidal second confrontation with Rumlow, or a more political confrontation through Pierce (who did, after all, appoint the bastard), or whatever other dumbass, noble idea he comes up with. She makes him pack a bag (or more likely, packs one for him), and tells him to go straight into the spooky old-growth forest a ways from town. Not the nice, civilized woods where Rumlow et al usually hunt, or along one of the roads to one of the other towns, but 

“You head straight into the heart of that forest, Steve, because so help me, that is the only way you’ll be safe from him. And if you see any wolves - hell, if you hear any wolves - you say that Margaret Elizabeth sent you with a message for Natalia of the White Wolf’s pack. And that message is pay your debt.”

And no, she does not explain any of that to Steve before she bundles him out of her house and on the path to the forest road.

Oh, did I mention that, according to general knowledge in this AU, magic isn’t real, except for maybe small good luck charms and similar. Which plenty of people still scoff at. So telling Steve to talk to wolves is...suspicious.

Second aside, a while back, Peggy saved Natalia from an angry mob, took her family’s home, let her recover in her own bed, and then accidentally fell in love with her. Oops. Before, of course, Natalia had to return to her own pack. Now they have a secret on-again, off-again romance. (I haven’t thought about WHY Peggy didn’t just run away with Natalia immediately, other than it wouldn’t work for my story. Shh.) And of course, Natalia promised to someday do the same for Peggy.

Cutscene to forest, next morning!

Bucky and his wolf buddies are out cruising the forest, as you do, when they sense a Disturbance In the Forest *cough force cough* and decide to check it out. Upon smelling some humans they’ve collectively termed “those fuckers,” they decide to fulfill the threat they issued at their last meeting and be done with the problem.

Namely, they gave Rumlow and his crew the same ultimatum that he’d given Steve, except that Rumlow had a history of terrorizing and killing everything (and everyone) in the forest, whereas Steve just wanted to protect people.

They herd the horses and hunting dogs to the edge of the forest near the town, leave the bodies in a pile, and are ready to continue on, except...there’s still one human somewhere in the forest. And these shitty scumbags had been following their trail. Time to figure out what’s up.

They reach the edge of a clearing, and all the wolves sort of melt out of the undergrowth at the edges, while Bucky, in his big fucking white wolf form walks out to the edge, transforms, and then stalks out in his best Murder Strut (TM).

And yes, this is “built like a brick shithouse” Bucky from Civil War, and yes, he is entirely naked, and still covered in blood, so Steve’s brain goes immediately offline.

Steve backs up until his back hits a large tree, waving a large knife at this seriously threatening (but hot) impossible fucking being, because werewolves do not exist. Right?

Right?!?

Bucky just casually pins Steve’s arms over his head, disarms Steve and tosses the knife away (without even looking where he tosses it, which Steve finds inexplicably really hot), and leans in to smell him.

Now, when Bucky reached the clearing, he recognized from the scent that this was a potential mate for him - and possibly a very strong mate too. Mates, in their world, are more “you are compatible with this person” than “this is the only person you can ever love EVER” and the strength of the potential bond can vary as well. (Just like some relationships are stronger than others.) But basically, Bucky realizes that whoever’s in the clearing, they could be good together. They could be goddamn AMAZING. And yeah, he wants to smell some more of that.

Steve is...more than a little overwhelmed by suddenly having a giant wolf turn into the hottest man he’s ever seen, who’s now pinning him to a tree and huffing him, but he does manage “Natalia.”

At which Bucky choke-grunts. The fuck?

“I have a message for Natalia. In the white wolf’s pack. From Peg-from Margaret Elizabeth.”

Vaguely grumpy at not getting to nose up his mate, but also very curious as to where this is going, (because how does this tiny gorgeous human know his second or her mate? Yes, Natalia is Bucky’s second-in-command), Bucky finally lifts his head. “I am the White Wolf, and I speak for Natalia. What is her message?”

Steve stares up the man towering over him and snarls, “Pay. Your. Debt.”

Bucky grins, slow and wicked. “Gladly. But not here.” He steps back, lowing Steve’s arms, and then...somehow, suddenly, Steve’s arms are around his shoulders, his legs are lifted around his waist, and Bucky is cradling Steve to his chest while telling his pack “bring his things.”

And then everyone is racing through the forest, faster than Steve has ever seen anyone move before and what the fuck did Peggy get him into?

After an hour or two of running (being carried) through the forest, Steve finally puts his head down on White Wolf’s shoulder, tucks his face into his neck, and tries to rest. He didn’t get any sleep, he spent the whole night hiking through dark, unfamiliar forest, he’s pretty sure he can stop worrying about Rumlow hunting him down - in the most literal sense, yikes - he’s tired.

Also, being carried is kind of soothing. There’s a rhythm to it. And wolfman smells nice. Mm...

Bucky is perfectly happy to have his newly-found mate fall asleep in his arms, and he’s very loathe to put him down once the pack reaches their den. (I still can’t decide what I want the den complex to look like. A castle? A big house? A fort? Maybe it’s a cave system that has been smoothed out and built into like hobbit holes. Or the Holds and Weyrs from Pern.)

But he finally decides to lay Steve down, feather-soft, into his own bed and tuck him in warmly. After all, Natalia vowed to repay Margaret in kind for what she’d done to help her, and part of that had been sharing her bed. There are guest rooms, but they’re so far away. This is closer. Warmer. More convenient. Better for his mate. And he’ll explain everything as soon as he wakes.

Steve does wake up and demand all the details EVER, as well as actually meeting Natalia and hearing how she knows Peggy (to make sure that this “white wolf” isn’t making shit up). Bucky gladly complies. Natalia is more salty about it, but she deals.

Then Bucky commences doting on his new mate. While trying not to come on too strong. Mostly failing. He...may have left out the bit about being able to smell that they’re mates. So he’s just trying to keep Steve interested enough in werewolf life/forest life to stay there and not, say, ask to go back to the human world (or back to his town even) since Rumlow and his men are dead.

Steve finds everything fascinating, and since Bucky always responds immediately to his cues - verbal and nonverbal! - he doesn’t have a problem being wooed. He might even, actually, like to be wooed a bit faster. Or more carnally. Not that he knows how to hint that.

Peggy eventually shows up sometime and is cute with Natalia, aka Natasha.

Steve slowly settles into life as the Kept Human Boy of the most badass werewolf alpha ever, who loves his tiny feral little mate and WILL tear your throat out if you even look at him funny.

[wistfulcynic]

Love Blooms

Summary: Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones have been together for three years. They’re deeply in love and an engagement is imminent. There’s only one problem: His brother doesn’t know about them, and Killian isn’t sure how to tell him. So when Liam finds out by accident, all that’s left is for Emma and Killian to fill him in on the story of how they met. 

This is that story. 

(a prequel--and sequel--to Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found)

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mariakov81​​!!! My lovely, brilliantly talented Masha, you are a  pure delight. Your gif responses make me laugh and your art makes me cry. Your enthusiasm and love of fic is so inspiring and your encouragement is one of the reasons I’m still writing. I love you lots. 😘

You mentioned that you’d like to read a meet-cute, so I hope this one pleases you. Have a FANTASTIC day ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Rating: G  Words: 4.3k Tags: Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Royalty AU, Brothers Jones, College AU, Meet-Cute

On AO3

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Love Blooms: 

It should have worked, really. As risky plans go, it was a pretty solid one. It should absolutely have worked. 

Princess Emma was easily recognisable, of course. As the only royal child and heir to the throne she’d been photographed extensively all her life, and those photos disseminated throughout the kingdom. But they were always taken in controlled situations, with her hair carefully styled and her clothing precisely engineered to invoke a very specific image. Her parents made absolutely certain of that. 

After the attempted coup by the queen’s stepmother on the day of the princess’s birth, the king and queen had taken decisive action to protect their only child and to ensure that no one but trusted personnel had access to her. On the rare occasions when she left the expansive palace grounds, no paparazzi followed her and none of Misthaven’s citizens so much as snuck a sneaky pic with a cell phone. Emma was to have protection and privacy until she came of age and officially took on her royal duties. That was the deal her parents made with the press and the people, and they enforced it rigidly. 

It should have worked. Emma’s most recognisable feature—her long, bright gold hair—was dyed a temporary dirty blonde (her mother nearly cried) and her green eyes shielded by large glasses. Most days she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and wore no makeup. She dressed in jeans and t-shirts, like any other college kid. It was a good plan. It should have worked. 

She hadn’t reckoned on Killian Jones. 

She’d known him for a few years, sort of. For several months of the summer she was sixteen while his brother served as a member of her personal guard, Killian had hovered around the edges of her world, thin and gawky and usually with his nose in a book. The one time they were introduced he’d gulped visibly and made an awkward bow, then got away as soon as he could. But not before he’d made an impression. 

She wasn’t sure what it was about him that caught her eye—possibly the way he seemed to be trying so hard not to catch it, or the size and variety of the books she saw him reading, or the way he would smirk and roll his eyes whenever he heard something he thought inane (which happened fairly frequently; polite conversation at court was not exactly scintillating). Possibly it was just those eyes, the bright, clear blue of them and the intelligence and humour she was sure she detected in their depths. Whatever it was it made butterflies dance in her belly whenever she saw him, and though they exchanged no more than a dozen words in the months he was at court she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head. 

“What does your brother do?” she’d asked Commander Jones one afternoon, as casually as she could. 

“He’s starting at the university in the autumn,” the commander replied, pride audible in his voice. “Going to study physics and engineering.” 

“Wow.” Emma wished she didn’t find that so impressive. 

“He’s a smart lad,” said Commander Jones with a grin. “He’ll change the world, mark my words.”  

Emma marked them, though she asked no further questions. It wouldn’t do to appear too interested. 

That was August. By October Killian Jones was gone from her life and so was his brother, the elder Jones off to serve on Misthaven’s flagship and the younger of course, to the university. And that really should have been the end of it. 

Her desire to go to university herself had nothing to do with Killian, it truly didn’t. She hadn’t forgotten he was there, exactly, but her determination to attend had far more to do with her status as heir to the throne and wishing to be as prepared as she possibly could be when she became queen. 

“But your tutors have given you the best education you could have,” her mother pointed out. “You’ve studied the history and political structure of Misthaven and all its allies and enemies. You’ve read all our country’s great books and know the history of our art. You speak six languages. That’s far more  knowledge than I had when I became queen. What else are you looking for?” 

“I want a chance to get to know the people I’m going to be ruling,” said Emma. “That’s one thing you had that I don’t. I’ve spent my whole life in the palace, and I know you kept me here for my own safety but I’m nineteen now and I want to meet people. Real ones. Ones who don’t know I’m the princess.” 

“Emma—” 

“Just give me a year,” she pleaded. “Just a year to go to college and live like a normal student. I’ll wear a disguise and go by a different name, you can even plant guards around me if you must but please, please just let me do this.” 

In the end her parents relented. Her mother, despite her tears at the new hair colour, had been unconvinced that the small changes Emma made to her appearance would be enough of a disguise, but Emma insisted they were plenty and her father backed her up. 

“Do you know why no one figured out Clark Kent was Superman?” Emma asked, as King David nodded approvingly behind her. “It wasn’t because putting on glasses was such an intricate disguise. It’s because the idea of Superman working at a newspaper was so completely absurd. No one saw a superhero in an ordinary reporter and no one’s going to see the princess of the realm in an ordinary literature major. People see what they expect to see.” 

And they had. All of them. All except Killian Jones. 

She really hadn’t reckoned on him. 

She settled in well to college life, though it was not the easiest transition going from her own suite of rooms in the palace to a tiny dorm shared with another student, a bright, chatty girl called Ruby. Ruby was easygoing and outgoing and always going. She loved to party and whenever she went out tried to coax Emma along as well, and though Emma really had gone to college with the intent to study, she reasoned that her main aim in being there was to get to know her people, and what better way to do that than at a party? 

Which is how she found herself two weeks into her first semester standing in the living room of a run-down student house, sipping valiantly at some locally-brewed ale and trying to remember the names of all the people Ruby introduced her to, and trying to remember that when they said ‘Anna,’ they were talking to her. 

She was chatting with a boy called Walsh who had a supercilious smile and, she soon realised, a very high opinion of himself, when her flagging attention was caught by shrieks of laughter coming from the other side of the room. She glanced over in search of their source then immediately looked again, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head. 

There across the room, surrounded by a largish group of people—one of whom, Emma noted, was Ruby—stood Killian Jones. It was him, she was sure of it, sure that she would recognise him anywhere, but oh, the changes time had wrought on the boy she’d known. She wasn’t sure if he really was any taller but he looked it, standing straight with his shoulders squared. There was stubble on his jaw and hair on his chest, clearly displayed by the undone buttons of his henley, and his eyes—so much brighter when not hidden behind thick glasses—twinkled as he delivered a quip that had everyone around him exploding in fresh peals of mirth. 

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, staring so hard she could see the exact moment he sensed her gaze and turned, his own eyes widening immediately in recognition. Of course he recognised her, Emma thought, he would; however older and cooler and hotter he might be now he was still the smartest boy she’d ever met and Superman’s disguise could not fool him. 

He stared at her for the longest moment of her life and then he winked—the worst excuse for a wink she’d ever seen—and turned his attention back to his crowd. Emma breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to blow her cover. 

She realised with a start that Walsh had kept on talking this whole time and she hadn’t heard a word he said. He seemed to realise that too, finally, and scowled at her. 

“Hey,” he said. “Earth to Anna.” 

“Sorry.” She offered a polite smile. “My mind wandered.” 

“Well, wander it back over here,” he said. “I was telling you all about my Reddit subgroup I started, and you weren’t even listening.” 

“Sorry,” she repeated. “Though actually, would you excuse me, I—” 

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped, his scowl darkening. “I bring you a drink, come all the way over here to talk to you. All I ask in return is a little bit of attention and you can’t even give me that.”

“I—”

“I’m a nice guy, you know,” he continued, moving closer. “I’d treat you right. Don’t think I didn’t see who you were looking at just now. If you think those guys would treat you better than I—” 

“Look, Welsh—” Emma interrupted, bristling at his presumption and his tone. 

“It’s Walsh.” 

“Yes, sorry, Walsh. Um, I don’t know what you think this is, but we only just met. We’ve been talking for ten minutes and it’s basically been you monologuing about Reddit the whole time. If you’re really looking to connect with people it might be better to ask them something about themselves instead of dominating the conversation.” 

“Oh, right, because it’s all about you, isn’t it?” 

“That’s not what I—” 

“You’re not even that pretty, you know,” he sneered. “Glasses are really unattractive on a woman.” 

Emma began to sputter with indignation. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way before and she was outraged to learn that there were men in her realm who felt that it was acceptable to insult women as long as they weren’t royalty, apparently. Walsh smirked as she struggled to find words vile enough to express her opinion of him, and then a deep voice spoke from just over her shoulder. 

“Perhaps you’re the one who needs glasses, mate, if that’s what you really think.” 

Emma didn’t even need the butterflies leaping up in her belly to know that the voice was Killian’s. Her heart began to pound in time to the butterflies’ dance as she turned to find him standing just behind her, glowering darkly at Walsh. “I’m certain the lady told you she’s not interested, so why don’t you bugger off back to whatever rock you crawled out from under?” he snarled. 

“You can’t tell me what to do,” blustered Walsh.

“And yet I just did.” 

“Who the hell do you think you are—” 

“He’s my boyfriend.” Emma jumped in before the scene could escalate, blurting the first thing that popped into her head. Walsh gaped at her, so astounded that he failed to notice Killian’s own slack jaw and bugging eyes. Killian recovered quickly, however, and casually looped an arm around Emma’s shoulders. 

“Aye,” he said. “I am.” 

Emma slipped her own arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder and doing her best not to faint. He was surprisingly sturdy and he smelled so good. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck and just breathe. 

“So stop trying it on with my girlfriend and piss off,” he said, tightening his arm to tuck her more securely against his side while also managing to loom over Walsh through the sheer force of his personality, despite them being more or less of a height.  

Walsh glared at Killian and then at Emma and then back to Killian again, and when neither of them budged he reached out and snatched the cup of ale from Emma’s hand. 

“I’ll be taking that back, then,” he huffed, and marched away. 

“Thank goodness,” said Emma. “It was not pleasant.” 

“Dwarf ale,” remarked Killian. “Not for the faint of stomach.” 

Emma chuckled and looked up at him, into those bright blue eyes that had never faded from her memory. He grinned back at her, a grin with an edge it hadn’t had three years ago, and she caught her breath. 

“Killian—” she began, then his eyes went wide with horror and his ears flushed bright pink. He pulled his arm away so quickly she stumbled and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Em—er, Your High—” 

“Shhhh,” hissed Emma, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a quiet corner. “Careful or you’ll blow my cover. My name’s Anna now. Anna Swan.” 

His tense expression relaxed and he raised an eyebrow. “Swan, hmm? Interesting choice.” 

“Yeah, it’s a—well, it’s a story. Kind of a long one.” 

He smiled, the eager, interested smile she remembered so well. “I have time. If you’d care to tell it?” 

He got her a drink, a sweet, fizzy one this time laced with just a few drops from his cup of Glowerhaven rum. They stood close together in the darkened corner and he listened intently as she told him about her childhood fondness for the palace swans, their elegant beauty and terrible manners, and how she’d loved reading the tales of the Swan Princess and the fable of the Ugly Duckling, and how her father had taken to calling her his little duckling after she’d demanded he read her that story at bedtime for three months straight. 

“So it just seemed appropriate,” she said with a shrug. “Meaningful, but also it doesn’t give anyone a clue as to who I am.” 

“And it suits you,” said Killian. “Swan. Beautiful and fearsome, just like you.” 

“I’m not fearsome!” she protested, scowling to cover the blush that heated her cheeks when he called her beautiful. 

“Aren’t you?” he asked earnestly. “You terrify me.” 

“I do? I don’t wish to.” 

“I’m sure it’s unintentional,” he said softly. “And more to do with me being timid.” 

“You’re not timid,” she scoffed. 

“Much less so than I used to be. And yet—” he took her hand and held it to his chest, just above his pounding heart. “You see?”

Emma gulped and her mouth went dry. His chest was firm and the hair on it rough beneath the fabric of his shirt, his hand covering hers so warm. 

“Mine’s the same, though,” she whispered, taking his other hand. With hers still on his chest she could feel his sharp inhale and his heart racing even faster when she laid his palm flat over her own frantic heartbeat. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Their eyes locked, his looking dazed and very dark, the colour high on his cheeks and his breaths audibly harsh. 

She licked her lips and his eyes followed the movement, his fingers tightening around hers, his hand on her chest sliding up to curl around her neck. He leaned his head down and she tipped her chin up and their lips were barely a breath apart when a crash and a shriek sounded from the kitchen and they both jumped. Killian squeezed his eyes shut, swearing viciously under his breath as he released her hand and neck and stepped away. 

“It sounds like things are winding down here,” he said gruffly. “When glassware starts to shatter, that’s your cue to leave. Bit of advice.” 

Disappointment tasted bitter, Emma realised. Bitter and crushing and achy and she hated it. She never wished to feel it again. She nodded in response, unable to speak.  

They stood silently for a minute, then Killian sighed. “So, um, may I see you home?” he asked, rubbing at his neck again. 

She smiled despite herself. “We’re not at court, Killian.” 

“Perhaps not, but I’d still like to walk you back.” 

“Yeah.” Her smile came more easily with the next attempt. “I’d like that too.” 

He kept his hands in his pockets as they walked the short distance to her dorm, but she was acutely aware of him and how near he was and the faint heat she could still feel from his body. When they reached her building he turned to her and smiled. 

“Well, Swan, I hope it won’t be another three years until I see you again,” he said.  

“It’s a small campus and I’m here until next summer, so I’d guess probably not.” Not if she had anything to say about it, she thought. 

“You’re only staying for a year?” he asked. 

“It’s all my parents would permit.” 

“Ah. I’ve only this year remaining as well, actually, until I graduate.” 

“Graduate? But—in three years?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve worked hard.” 

It was more than that, Emma knew. He was clever and ambitious and determined to make something of himself. To change the world, just as his brother had predicted. She didn��t know the precise circumstances of the Joneses’ life before they found refuge in Misthaven, but from the few hints Commander—now Captain—Jones had dropped they hadn’t had the easiest of beginnings. That they had already made such a success of themselves was deeply impressive, and Emma suspected they were only just getting started. 

“Do you—have far to walk to get home?” she asked, a bit wistfully. It was late and she was tired but she didn’t want Killian to go. She wasn’t ready for their time together to end. 

“Just to the other side of campus,” he replied. “I’m here on a military training scholarship so I live with the other cadets. When I graduate I’ll join the navy as a lieutenant.” 

“Like your brother.” 

“Aye,” he agreed. “Possibly even on his ship.” 

“That would be amazing.” 

“We think so.” 

They were standing close again, in a shadowy recess just to the side of the door, and Emma’s heart was pounding, not again but more like still; it had barely rested since she’d laid eyes on Killian. He was looking at her with a gaze so intense she could swear she felt it caress her lips and gods she wanted him to kiss her. If only she had paid more attention to the gossip among the ladies at court, or even to Ruby’s chatter the past two weeks, then she might have at least some idea of how to make that happen. How exactly did one go about letting a man know one wished to be kissed without actually saying ‘please kiss me’? Maybe she should just say it? Or, as the princess, did she need to kiss him first? What was the protocol here? She was royalty damn it, she couldn’t do anything until she knew the protocol. 

Instead she just stared at him, feeling hot and itchy and increasingly desperate until he swallowed hard and drew a deep breath, then stepped back. Again. 

“Well. I imagine I’ll see you around, then, Swan.” 

Don’t go, Emma’s body screamed, even as her mouth said “I hope so.” 

He smiled and gave her a small nod, then headed off down the path away from her building, and from her. She watched him go, simmering with frustration. She should have just grabbed him, she thought, and protocol be damned. Grabbed him and kissed him, because damn it she was not going to be able to sleep tonight for wondering what that would feel like, and wishing she didn’t need to wonder. 

With an irritated huff she went to the door, taking her keys from her pocket and sorting through them in search of the correct one. She’d just managed to locate it when a warm hand took her by the elbow and tugged her back into the privacy of the shadows. 

“What the—” she exclaimed, and then Killian’s lips were on hers. The keys slipped from her fingers and fell unheeded to the ground as her knees went weak and she grasped at his shoulders for support. He walked her back until she was pressed against the wall, his arm firm around her waist and his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her, soft and slow and deep and gods.  

Emma whimpered, clinging to him, yearning for things she couldn’t articulate. His hand flexed against her jaw at the sound and just for a moment he pulled her flush against him, insistent yet so gentle, like he wanted to consume her and also never let her go. Then, ever so softly, he broke the kiss. 

“Go out with me,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers and stroking his thumb across her chin. 

“Hmmmm?” Emma struggled to think through the spinning in her head and the frantic thrum of her blood. “Go where?”

He chuckled. “Let me take you out to dinner. Tomorrow.” 

“Like—a date?” 

“Aye, Swan, very much like a date. An actual date, in fact.” 

She blushed at the gentle teasing but the butterflies in her belly were performing an elaborate pas-de-deux and she felt like she could fly along with them. “I’d like that,” she said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“All right. Um.” He cleared his throat and stood straight, though his hand remained on her cheek. “I’ll come by here to pick you up. About seven?” 

She nodded. “I’m in room 3017. You can call me on the intercom from down here.” 

“3017,” he repeated. He stepped back with a swagger in his hips this time, and bit his bottom lip in a way that made her want to drag him up to her room now, no date required. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love,” he said, his voice dripping with promise, and she smiled. 

“Tomorrow.” 

~

“And that’s how it happened.” Emma concludes. “More wine, Captain Jones?” She smiles at Liam who’s gaping at her, slack-jawed. Slowly he inclines his head and pushes his wine glass slightly forward on the table. The three of them are sitting in the small dining area of Emma and Killian’s apartments at the palace, sharing dinner as they fill Liam in on the story of their relationship. As Emma refills his wine glass, Liam turns to Killian and punches him squarely in the shoulder. 

“Oi!” Killian cries. “What was that for?” 

“I can’t believe you just kissed her like that!” Liam exclaims. “What were you thinking?” 

Killian shrugs. “I was thinking I wanted to kiss her.” 

“You can’t just up and kiss the princess!” Liam sputters. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell myself,” says Killian. “I walked away cursing who she was and reminding myself I had to treat her appropriately, and then I thought but why? If she’d been the normal girl she was pretending to be, I’d have kissed her at the party. So I turned back and, well, you heard the rest.”

“I’m glad he did, too,” says Emma. “It saved me the trouble of hunting him down and kissing him myself. Didn’t help me sleep that night though.” She shoots Killian a saucy look which he returns in kind. 

“All right all right, bloody hell,” Liam grumbles. “Could you stop doing that, please?” 

“Doing what?” asks Emma innocently. 

“I’ve no idea what you mean, brother,” says Killian. 

Liam groans and lets his head fall into his hands. “Where’s that wine?” he says. 

~

When dinner is over Liam takes his leave, and Emma offers to walk with him as far as the door to the inner courtyard. They stroll slowly through the wide corridors and Liam waits, knowing she must have something she wishes to say. 

“I’m glad you finally know about us.” Emma glances up at him with a rather apologetic smile. “Killian’s been wanting to tell you for ages. He couldn’t say anything at first of course, because no one outside my family and our closest advisers knew I was at the university, but since we began living together he’s felt awful keeping it from you.” 

“I understand why he did, though,” Liam replies. “And I’m truly sorry he ever felt that he couldn’t confide in me.” They walk in silence for a few minutes. “Do, er—” he clears his throat. “Do your parents know?” 

“They do.” 

“And… how do they feel about it?” 

“They’re delighted,” says Emma gently, and Liam feels the tension in his shoulders recede. 

“Truly?” 

“Truly. It was a bit tricky at first, but they adore Killian and they’re happy I’ve chosen someone who will be a true partner to me when I take the throne. They know how essential that is.” 

They are approaching the doors to the courtyard, but Emma stops just inside them and turns to face him. “Liam,” she says. “May I call you that?” 

“Of course.” 

“Liam, I just want you to know that Killian—” Her voice breaks and she blinks rapidly, looking faintly embarrassed. “I—I just—I love him so much,” she chokes out as tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Oh, gods I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise, lass.” Liam withdraws a crisp handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to her. 

“Thank you.” She takes the handkerchief and dabs at her eyes. “I’ve never found it easy to talk about my feelings,” she says once she’s calmer, “and the stronger they are the harder it is. But I need you to know that Killian’s heart is safe with me. As I know mine is with him.” 

Liam nods, his chest too tight for the words he wishes he could say. He contents himself with a simple “Thank you.” 

Emma smiles and gives him his handkerchief back, squeezing his hand as he takes it. “You’re welcome,” she says. “Brother.” 

—

@ohmightydevviepuu​ @thisonesatellite​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @katie-dub​ @teamhook​ @donteattheappleshook​ @xhookswenchx​ @snidgetsafan​

[pricemarshfield]

what do you truly desire?

A Deckerstar human/romcom AU. Chapter 5/10, read on AO3 here (or the full fic here). Will be rated E eventually, so minors DNI.

Five months later, Lucifer's life is fantastic.

It's not a surprise. His life has always been better than the average person's: plenty of money, some of the world's best alcohol, possibly the most active sex life of anyone in the LA area. Maze's brief trend of being gentle after Chloe had rejected him because of her has long-since ended, so she's back to her normal self: quick-witted and vicious and Lucifer's best friend.

She doesn't tell him anymore stories about her roommate, and he doesn't ask her about Chloe. It's basically the same way they did things before, just with the one tweak. Still, it's not as though he doesn't know when she tiptoes around things. Maze happily starts a story about building a model rocket with her other best friend (Lucifer holds a hand to his chest, mostly-mock-offended) but then clams up when Lucifer asks the friend's name or any other details, or Maze corrects him on some minor detail about LA's liquor laws that only someone who spent a lot of time with a cop would know. (Lucifer doesn't remember what that one was. Maze handles the books.)

Lucifer continues to talk up their customers almost every night, waxing poetic about their most expensive whiskeys, whispering in a handsome man's ear about how good Maze looks mixing cocktails, helping them through the potential sexuality crisis that tends to cause. It's certainly not a traditional lifestyle, but anyone he has a conversation with long enough to actually talk about it tend to say how lucky he is.

Which is right, obviously. He's lucky. What more could he want?

Of course, the life of a club owner doesn't start at opening. He needs a new suit, deep blue for an event someone's paying a truly sinful amount of money to host at Lux, and his tailor won't do house calls. Maze had tried, at one point, to wake him up earlier, if only so that he'd cook her breakfast since she burns everything short-of-but-sometimes-including toast. But he spends over a thousand on just the sheets on his bed, let alone how much he spent on the mattress, and he's damn well going to enjoy it.

(It's not--and this is crucial--it's not moping. He doesn't have anything to mope over, definitely not, his life is absolutely wonderful and he doesn't spend any time thinking of a blonde woman who doesn't swoon at everything he says like anyone he puts any effort in with, the first person he'd been interested in since Eve and the rebellion she represented.)

He's running late for the appointment, due to some truly abysmal traffic and a lack of parking anywhere near the shop, so he's rushing along through the crowd of people that seem to be omnipresent anytime he needs to get somewhere quickly in this city.

"Excuse me, pardon me, I'm actually in a hurry, so--okay, now you're purposefully obstructing everyone here, step to the side if you're going to text--" He turns his head to stare down the offending party, a stern-faced woman with a harsh haircut and horrifically short bangs--when he runs right into someone in the street and gets hot coffee all over his person.

It's not necessarily bad form to swear in public, but the string of words that come out of his mouth certainly cross the line into bad etiquette. It hurts like a motherfucker, and worst of all, the shirt he's wearing is white. Lucifer spares a moment to be thankful--not to a God or anything, just in general--that he's already got an appointment with a tailor.

"Shit!" says the woman he bumped into, and Lucifer turns his head to see Chloe. Because he'd only just managed to mostly put her out of his mind, and the universe is a vicious, punishing thing. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry--"

She's still looking with dismay between his shirt and what's left of her coffee, not at his face, and Lucifer coughs a little. "I didn't take you for a black coffee drinker."

Chloe looks up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Lucifer? That's--insane, LA is a city of almost 4 million people, what are the chances?"

"Given my luck? Quite high, actually," Lucifer says, and Chloe's expression shutters almost quick enough for Lucifer to miss the flash of hurt across her face. "Because of the coffee! Not--I did like this shirt, but it is good to see you. And I'm near my tailor, anyway."

Chloe still looks a little offended, but she manages a small smile up at him. "You have your own tailor?"

"Well, suits like these don't come off the rack." He holds his arms out, realizes that he's now blocking the crowd and being a huge hypocrite, and lowers them. "Let's step to the side for a second."

"What? Oh, right," Chloe says, and gets out of the way. Someone shoots them a dirty look as they shuffle through to the side. The--chicken and waffles place...interesting--has a bright, tacky red-and-gold awning that gets them a bit of respite from the shade so they can talk.

Chloe digs through her pockets, pulling out receipts and crumpled-up straw wrappers. After glancing at his face, she says, "I'm just trying to find a napkin or something to get the coffee."

Lucifer looks at the reflection of the two of them in the window. His shirt has a giant brown spot in the middle of it that, while it should come out with dry cleaning, is certainly not going to be helped by old napkins. "I'll buy a new shirt while I'm at the tailor. Hopefully it won't need alterations."

Chloe snorts. "'Alterations.'" Her British accent is abysmal and sounds less like him and more like an offensive impression of a character from a cult classic BBC show. "This place looks like a college haunt, you could probably get a USC T-shirt inside until you get home tonight."

Lucifer shudders. "Ugh. Absolutely not."

"What, you're telling me you don't have any cheap clothes that you hold onto just 'cause they're comfortable?"

"A silk robe is comfortable," he grumbles. "Certainly more comfortable than a T-shirt from--" He looks at the door, squinting against the glare of the sun against the 'restaurant' door. "--Classic Southern Cafe of the West Coast."

"I mean, the name leaves something to be desired, but if a place with a name like that's still open then it can't be all bad."

"Or someone with more money than sense decided to throw their life savings at something they were completely unqualified for. Like that cafe in Boston."

Chloe blinks at him. "The cat cafe?"

"You're familiar!" Lucifer says, delighted. "Maze told me about it, she delights in disasters."

"...she told me, too."

Right.

"Okay, look," Chloe says, and Lucifer braces himself for the worst of it. "I'm really sorry about the way I kicked you out." Oh? "I mean...I just--okay, I'm not jealous."

"I hadn't thought you were?" Lucifer says, unsure if he's about to be insulted or what. He's not letting himself be hopeful about anything, though, suffocating the urge to be optimistic about it before it can say whatever it wants to. If this conversation goes well, he'll be pleasantly surprised, and if not, he won't have lost any of the progress he's made over the course of the past few months.

(The most he's hoping for is that he'll be able to talk to her. He enjoys that, more than he does talking with almost anyone else.)

"I just mean...ugh, okay, Maze and I were a thing, okay? Just briefly, barely a month! We didn't really work like that, but we made good friends, and then she was moving out of her old roommate's place and I needed to move out of my mom's old house and it just worked? And it was just--weird, you having slept with her and me also--fuck, sorry, I'm rambling."

She is, which seems pretty unlike her from Lucifer's previous two times that he'd met her, but it's annoyingly endearing anyway. "It's fine, Detective. Don't stop on my account."

Chloe reaches a hand up to rub the back of her neck. "Right. And I just...don't really casually see people, okay? I mean, Maze was an exception. Not in that way, I'm definitely bisexual, just...yeah. And as much as I liked you, I just don't think I have the room for a relationship right now."

Lucifer's heart definitely doesn't drop down into his stomach at that, not at all. "Of course."

"I would like to hang out, though? As friends?" Chloe says. "If you're alright with--"

"I am," Lucifer says, quickly enough that he accidentally interrupts her. She grins up at him, though, so it's good, it's fine. "I...do have to get to this appointment, I need a suit for work--"

"Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you, and sorry again about the coffee! You were right, too, I don't normally like my coffee black, but it's--not important, go get a new suit."

Lucifer nods and smiles, a little awkward, a little unsure, but generally...happier. It's not even as though he was in a bad mood before, but now he's smiling easier, chattier with his tailor, doesn't mind the stain on one of his nicer shirts that's had some time to set in now and might not wash out as easily as he'd like.

--

Maze has been staring at Lucifer ever since he walked into the bar, wearing a new shirt and a smile. She's been drying the same glass now for almost five minutes, despite how busy it is at the bar and how much Patrick's scrambling to get things done, and it's now just a matter of which one of them will break first: Maze's impatience or Lucifer's love of talking about himself.

Lucifer really does love talking about the things that go well in his life, though, and Maze hasn't even blinked for the last stretch of time. So eventually he heads over with an eyeroll, doesn't miss the victorious smirk on her face, and sits down at the one barstool that's, miraculously, available.

"Spill," Maze says, putting the glass down at last and starting to mix a drink, to Patrick's obvious relief.

"I ran into Chloe," Lucifer says, delighted, and looks to see if Maze will tense up, if she'll show any jealousy that her ex is spending time with him. Decidedly platonic time, but still. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened with Eve. That had been a difficult time for their friendship, and for Lucifer in general, if he's being honest.

She doesn't seem to, not smiling (normal) but nodding in agreement as she looks down at the drink she's pouring. "Cool. Did you go try and find her at the police station or something? Hold up a sign like that dumb movie?"

Lucifer scoffs. "No, of course not, that would have been completely inappropriate, and not in a fun way. Especially given she rejected me." Much as that stings, it's still a novel feeling.

"Good," Maze says, sliding the drink over to a customer who only barely manages to catch it before the glass would've fallen and shattered on the floor and gotten--whatever that drink is, some lurid pink thing, all over her clothes. "So...what? She came to see you at Lux before we opened?"

"No," Lucifer says. "We just ran into each other."

"Jesus, what are the odds," Maze says, grabbing some orange juice from beneath the counter. "You wanna come back here and help out?"

"Of course not," Lucifer says, then walks to the back of the bar to help out anyway. He's not actually good at mixing drinks at all, but he knows where everything is, mostly, grabbing Maze some rum and chopping limes since they're running low. "Are we especially busy today or something? I've never seen the bar this backed up."

"Well, you weren't telling me right away, I had to make a point," Maze says with a quick glare at him. "Apologize to Patrick."

Lucifer doesn't particularly feel like apologizing to Patrick for Maze's behavior, and Patrick seems a bit too busy with pitchers of sangria to do much of anything. There's a lull in their conversation as they get drinks out to the customers as fast as possible without missing any tabs or charges or anything else, but then it slows to something they can talk during.

"Well, I'm glad it worked out, I guess?" Maze says. "Did she, like, rip your shirt off or something? I didn't think Decker had it in her."

"No," Lucifer says. "While I'm not at all opposed, she actually just spilled some coffee--"

Maze laughs. "Holy shit, really? Wow, I didn't realize she was mad at you! I'm normally really good at picking up on anger!"

"It was an accident, Mazikeen, would I be in a good mood if it wasn't?" Lucifer says, annoyed, wiping down the counter with a rag just to get the worst of the condensation and sweat off.

She doesn't respond right away, and when he looks back, she's smiling at him, softer than she normally would. "Hey. I'm glad you're in a good mood about it."

"Okay?" Lucifer says, unused to Maze being nice when she doesn't want something from him. "Why--"

"Which is why I'm gonna tell you right now," Maze interrupts. "That you're my best friend. And that I care about you."

"I--okay? I--"

"And that if you hurt Chloe," Maze says, still smiling, still with that same casual tone. "I will fucking end you. Got that?"

"I haven't even done anything!" Lucifer protests. "Is she getting this same shovel talk? And besides, she's said she's not interested, it's just--friendly."

"Oh," Maze says, relaxing against the counter a little more. "Really? Wouldn't have guessed that. Also...yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, she got the same shovel talk," Maze says with another eyeroll, all trace of her sweet, fake smile gone. "Obviously. You're my best friend."

Lucifer nods, shoulders dropping just a little. It's not that he was worried Maze was picking between him and Chloe, like it's some sort of fight, but it's--nice, to be reassured that she's on his side anyway.

"Also?" Maze says, glare getting worse.

"Also...I care about you too?"

"Thank you!" Maze says in her sweetest, fakest voice of all. "Also, I'm guessing you two didn't exchange numbers again?"

"Shit."

"It's fine, I got you, let me just make sure Chloe's cool with it once I'm home," Maze says. "You're definitely both being stupid as hell, but whatever, at least it'll be fun to watch."

--

At 1:43am, after they've finished closing up and cleaning and getting everything ready for tomorrow, Lucifer checks his phone for the first time in an hour and sees a text from a number he doesn't recognize.

Hey! It's Chloe. Maze gave me your number, she said you said it was okay

If it's not, I'm sorry and I won't text again

And if you're not Lucifer, I'm sorry and please let me know?

Hello, Detective

She doesn't respond, but it's late enough that she's probably asleep, and frankly, after having to actually work tonight, he's about ready to pass out himself. So he does, gets into the most comfortable sheets he's ever head and is unconscious almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. He misses one more text, from a number he hasn't texted in years.

hey! i'm back in town if you want to meet up! let's partyyyy

[eak8753]

High School AU 

There were two people at Rebel High that you didn’t mess with. Damian Wayne and Raven Roth. Damian was the son of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. He was a violent little shit that got into fights just for the fun of it. He had been kicked out of numerous schools so his Father sent him to the only public school in town as punishment. He could hold himself in a fight and even if he couldn’t, he knew his Father would bail him out of anything.

Raven was a part of the demons, one of the deadliest gangs in America. She was born into it by her Father, as it was her birthright to be a part of it. She was the school's best known drug dealer and had spent the summer before junior year locked up. She had no quarrels with kicking someone’s ass if she needed to, but her preferred method of attack was verbal abuse. Both of them could cut you down to size with a single look and people were far too scared to get on their shit lists. That didn’t stop the rumours though.

“Todd, what are we doing here? I thought you were taking us to get food?” Damian asked his older brother, Jason. He had told their Father that he was grabbing a late lunch, when Alfred had insisted that he take Damian along. That had been thirty minutes ago and they still hadn’t gotten a single thing to eat. Instead they were at some trailer park on the opposite side of the city. The trailers were smaller than his room and it didn’t make sense why Todd would want to come here.

Ignoring his younger brother, Jason got out of the car, banging on one of the trailer's doors. Following his brother's actions -for what reason was beyond him- a man with two dyed white streaks in his primarily black hair, eyes the colour of ambers, covered in tattoos opened the door. looking Jason up and down he motioned for them to come in. Upon entering Damian noticed two things, it was bigger on the inside, and the place reeked of weed.

“I need papes*” Jason told the man once they walked in. “What happened to the ones I gave you?” the man questioned turning the T.V off. Damian always had to marvel at how differently they all handled their problems. Todd used drugs and alcohol, Drake would isolate himself, Grayson would throw himself into work, and Damian used violence. Sure they each tended to do what the others did -minus Damian and drugs- but they all seemed more prone to do one thing.

Damian was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a girl’s voice, one he had heard a couple of times before. “Hey fuckhead” the girl said, anger evident in her voice. Turning to the sound he looked at a form dressed in a white tank top, black sweatpants, and a bat in hand. Right in front of him was Rebel High’s most feared female; Raven Roth. “Shit” the man Jason had asked papes for pailed. “Rae…” he said trailing off as she went towards the television. She glared at the man, then proceeded to take the bat and swing it into the T.V. effectively rendering it useless. Glass shards fell to the ground, all the while the lavender haired girl never took her eyes off the man.

“What the fuck Raven” the man yelled at the young women, looking back from the shattered T.V. to her. “Remember this next time you wanna go through my shit” she said walking up to him, stopping only a few feet away, dropping the bat. “As your older brother I can go through your crap whenever I want to, and how else was I gonna find out that you’re fucking a thirty year old” the dark haired man replied, still in disbelief over the events that took place not even five minutes ago. “Simple, you don’t. Besides it’s not like it would be the first time” the girl replied with venom, clearly still angry, for what was lost to Damian.

The Roth siblings glared at each other, while the Wayne brothers -or the ones there at least- kept glancing at each other, in mild confusion and fear. She looked at him for a moment. Damian had never had a conversation with the young dealer. She rarely ever spoke unless it was to rip someone apart, disrespect someone -who more often than not deserved it- or was to talk about deals. Seeing as Damian and her didn’t run in the same crowd -that of which meant he was popular, thus meaning he sat with popular people and she was always by herself- and he didn’t have a purpose for drugs, they never spoke. Although they did have English together. Turning back to face her brother she flipped him off and walked out the door.

Damian briefly wondered if he had been possessed as he saw her walk out the door, slamming it. He didn’t want her to leave, which was unusual in itself since he wasn’t much of a people person. Looking at the two older men before him, Damian ran out of the trailer home, running up to the young girl, calling out her name.

Stopping a couple of meters in front of him she slowly turned around, her arms crossed in front of her, confusion visible on her face. “Wayne?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow as he ran the last few meters to her. “Hey, I um” he stammered, suddenly his mouth felt dry. Despite other’s beliefs, he had no clue how to talk to teenage girls, especially ones who were just as explosive as him. He knew he had to be cautious, not say or do anything that might make her upset.

“I didn’t know you had a brother” he said casually. “I have five more,” she said, never letting her defences down. Why was Damian Wayne talking to her? It didn’t make any sense, and honestly she couldn’t be bothered to figure out the truth at the moment. She hadn’t eaten yet and was fully aware of how violent and rude she could be if she didn’t eat. “Really? Where are they” he asked with genuine interest. He was observant and used that to his advantage, he pretty much had everyone at Rebel’s High story -or the basics of it- figured out, all’s except her’s.

“Prison” she answered sharply, turning on her heel, she started walking again. Then a hand reached out to latch on to her own, effectively stopping her. Spinning around to him, she looked at his hand on her arm, then at him. Did he have a death wish? Moving his hand from her after a moment -way to quickly, he noted- he went to speak, but was beaten to it. “Look Damian, if my brother asked you to check up on me-“ “Your brother didn’t tell me to do shit. I just wanted to make sure you were okay” he cut her off, nonchalantly.

She was suspicious, he could see that but she didn’t ask “why” which he was grateful for. Honestly Damian didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was because something about Raven had always intrigued him or that she had yet to throw herself at him but he did want to make sure she was okay. Plus if what her brother said about the thirty year old was true, he wanted that pedophile to get locked up.

“I’m guessing you’re one of the shithead brothers Jay is alway complaining about?” She asked him after a moment, still keeping her guards up. Raising his eyebrow slightly he crossed his arms. “He talks about you guys, so are you Kiss Up, Replacement or Demon Spawn?” the girl question. “Demon Spawn, definitely Demon Spawn” the boy answered, smirking.

Sure being called a demon spawn wasn’t something to be proud of, but honestly he couldn’t give two shits. When he first went to live with his Father seven years ago he purposefully was a disobedient, cruel, nasty child, something he undoubtedly would be punished for when he lived with his Mother and Grandfather. He also really liked the names for his other older brothers. Kiss Up had to be Grayson, Father was always comparing everything the others did to their eldest brother. Replacement must have been Drake then, which for Todd was fitting, considering he was adopted a few months after Father had sent Todd off to boarding school in London.

Tuning back into his conversation with Raven he asked “what does he say about us?” “53% of the time it's complaints, 17% is talking about how we should sell him a gun“ this shocked Damian for two reasons; why did Todd need a gun? And he didn’t know the Roths dealt them. Of course he wasn’t stupid and valued his life so he brushed it off as if he already knew these things. “What about the remaining 30%?” The young Wayne asked. At that Raven just grinned.

It was then that she came closer to him, he stood still, tensing up at the contact. He didn’t really like being around people, females no less. He had only really ever had two females close to him; his mother and ex girlfriend, both of which were no longer a part of his life. Raven, being completely oblivious to his uneasiness reached forward for the front of his jacket, playing with the unzipped sides before looking up at him. “Is that a Balmain Biker Jacket*” she questioned, still playing with the sides. “Yeah it is, how did you…” he trailed off, looking at her suspiciously. “Just because I can't afford it doesn’t mean I don't know what it is,” she smirked.

He looked at her a bit sheepishly, then she quickly pulled away from him. For some reason he liked having her close to him, but he brushed it off as wanting physical contact from a female -that he was comfortable with- after going months without it.

“I'm hungry” she stated, and started walking away. Before he could do anything she turned to him again with a raised brow. “Well, are you coming?” She asked. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Raven Roth had just asked him if he was going to eat with her, it really wasn’t her style. He had rumours that she had slept with -or done something similar- with almost every guy at school. He didn’t think she did dates, then again this wasn’t a date. Did he want it to be a date? That was a question he didn’t need answered at the moment, running up to her he made sure to leave a good five inches of space between them.

Entering Big Belly Burger, they sat down at a booth, across from each other. “Need help deciding what you want,” Raven asked with an amusing smile, clearly teasing him. It wasn't a secret that Damian always had the best of everything; clothes, technology, and food. He knew that she thought that this was his first time coming to a Big Belly Burger, or any fast food place. Yes it was true he didn’t usually go to places that served food high in fat, but he did indulge once in a while, this being one of those times. “Nope” he answered, popping the P, as the waitress came over to them.

“What will it be?” The waitress asked, who Damian quickly realized was a new girl who went to their school, a sophomore he believed. “I'll have a grilled chicken burger and an ice tea, with a side of fries” Raven said, putting the menu down. “I'll have the same thing except for a surprise veg burger” Damian responded to the waitress. Looking up from her notepad, she looked both of them over, registering who exactly was in front of her.

“Holy shit, you’re Damian Wayne” it wasn’t really a question but he nodded anyways. Immediately she became much more cheery. She patted her uniform skirt down, fixed her hair slightly and put on a bright smile. “So what brings you here” she said, he cringed internally at the overused pickup line. He found it a little disrespectful that she would try and talk to him when he was clearly in the middle of something with another person. The complete disregard for Raven infuriated.

He gestured towards the purple haired girl in front of him, the waitress just scoffed. “You certainly are a cheap date” she said to Raven. “Didn’t know you were into rich boys, then again I wouldn’t put being a gold digger past you. Or is the trailer trash you’re used to just not cutting it anymore, you would sleep with anyone who wants it” she said with clear disgust, Raven for her part was keeping her cool, she didn’t even seem bothered by what this girl was insinuating. Damian knew the rumours, and what her brother said didn’t help her case, but she didn’t have to take this kind of treatment.

Looking away from Raven, the younger girl looked Damian, bright smile again. “You know you don’t have to go through the trouble of buying this skank lunch right? I mean you could do so much better-“ no doubt referring to herself, he thought “-and she never needed to be dined before. I heard that she” “I don’t give two shits what you heard about her. Now can you please go get us our fucking food” Damian snapped. The girl, slightly taken aback by his outrage, just nodded and left, all the while having Damian glare at her.

Looking back to Raven he saw her brow raised, something he noticed she did a lot. “You know you could report her right, get her fired. No doubt that she deserves it” he said, still not understanding how she managed not to be angry. “It’s not that big of a deal” she shrugged, playing with a ketchup packet. Not that big of a deal? She had just been disrespected and thinks it isn’t a big deal.

Then a thought struck him. “Does that happen often” he questioned, although deep down he already knew the answer. She pretended to think for a moment. “All the time” she answered, leaning back in her seat. “You don’t have to take it,” he said, placing his hands on the table leaning forward slightly. “Look, I'm a Roth” she sighed. “People are always gonna talk. If she wasn’t bitching about me being a slut, then it would about me being a dealer” she said, eyes pleading with him to just drop it.

“That's fucked up” he said, staring out the window. “I come from a pretty fucked up family” she responded with a smile in her voice. “Yeah, my family’s pretty shit too” he stated, still not looking at her. He was upset with his Father for not knowing about him until he was ten years old, he was upset with his Mother for not telling his Father about him, but more importantly he was upset that they both never treated him like a normal child, then again Damian wasn’t a normal child.

“Damian” Raven's voice snapped him from his thoughts, turning to look at her; she had an incredulity face. “From what I heard you have a pretty great family” she stated matter of factly. Seeing the look of confusion on his face she elaborated. “I know that your Father is sort of a distant asshole, but he also has a multibillion dollar company to run, so he can’t exactly be there for all of you. Clearly he shouldn’t have so many kids but you all turned out pretty fine. The worst of you being Jason, dubbed by the media, and all he really does is smoke weed” she gave her two cents. She wasn’t wrong, in fact she was completely on the nose. Damian understood why his Father was away all the time, but a part of him still wished he could see him after he came home from school like most kids.

“Still wish he’d be there for us sometimes though. We really only see him on Fridays for a mandatory family dinner” Damian said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family dinner sounds nice, if my Father isn’t locked up then he’s doing something to get locked up” she responded as their food arrived, thankfully it was a different waitress this time. “How much time has he done?” The young man questioned, taking a sip of his ice tea. “30 years on and off” she answered, taking a bite of her fries.

“So, what’s your story?” She asked him after about three minutes of silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, and he actually quite enjoyed it. When he was with his -now ex- girlfriend she hated the silence and would talk for hours, which was fine with Damian if it meant he didn’t have to talk about himself. Obviously this tactic wasn’t going to work with Raven.

“I don’t have one” he simply answered, taking a bite from his burger. “Bullshit” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Everyone's got a story, whether they acknowledge it or not” she stated. “If that’s true then you must have one” he countered, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat. “Yeah I do, but I asked first” she shrugged, reaching over and grabbing one of his fries.

His eyes followed his fry in her hands, all the way to her mouth, looking up he realized she had been watching him the whole time, sighing he had no other choice but to answer the young woman. “I grew up with my Mother and Grandfather. They took care of me and taught me how to defend myself. After my Grandfather was killed my Mother had trouble taking care of us, so she brought me to my father.”

“Apparently he didn’t even know I was born and made me take a DNA test to determine if I was even his or not. Surprise surprise, I was. I’ve been living with him ever since, sometimes my Mother comes to visit but I wish she would just leave me alone” at her confused face he explained. “My mother was mentally abusive, and kept me isolated from most of the world. It wasn’t until I lived with my Father that I realized how shitty she was though” he finished, taking another bite from his burger.

They just sat there for a while, unmoving. That was until he reached out to take a sip of her drink, she followed the movements with a raised brow, at his smirk she slightly chuckled. “So...” he drawled out, indicating for her to finish, she sighed. “I lived with my mother up until I was eight” she started. “She was murdered and I was taken. Apparently my father didn’t take too kindly to her running off after they found out she was pregnant.”

”Of course I was beyond angry at him for what he did to my mother. Sure she was a bitch at times but she was the only person I had. He went to jail, for unrelated reasons, after that. My brothers were in and out of the house, so I enlisted in school and about four months later he was released. Forced me into the family business. High school kids are more prone to buy drugs than adults. Of course then the rumours came and he totally lost his shit. Went full on psycho, I had to leave for a while so I got my ass thrown in juvie. While I was locked up he got caught for some shit and now has to do 18 months with a chance of parole in 12” she replied in a monotone voice, not betraying how she actually felt.

“Why’d he go psycho” the youngest Wayne questioned, what rumours had her Father heard that would make her want to go to juvie. “That I was a slut” Damian couldn’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, he thought that I was doing it with everyone; high schoolers, felons, junkies, guys in their thirties” she gave him a small smile as she finished her burger. It was odd, he had never told anyone as much as he had told her. He believed that his mind was something for him and him alone, which drove everyone else crazy. But for some reason he was willing to tell her all of his inner thoughts. Then it struck him.

Thought? What do you mean he thought you did those things. No offence, but you have done those things” he told her with a face of confusion. She looked at him with dull eyes, and shook her head slightly. “I've only slept with one man, Damian, and it wasn’t even consensually” she said with the utmost seriousness, then again when wasn’t she serious? “What...what about the rumours?” he probed with a frown, he believed her, he was just taken aback that someone would spread such nasty lies about another person.

“A few weeks after I started school I was invited to this girl’s birthday party. There was this boy there and he tried to kiss me, I said no. Next thing I knew he told everyone that we had hooked up. Guess he got some of his friends into it too, because they made up shit as well” she shrugged, taking another one of his fries. “Why didn’t you deny it?” He asked. “I did it, but by then the damage was done. It only got worse when I became a freshmen” her eyes had clouded over, as if she was remembering something; something particularly painful.

“What about the guy your brother was talking about?” He inquired, looking her over. Snapping back into reality she answered. “My brother doesn’t know shit. I'm not sleeping with the guy, he's my Social Worker. I have to report to him every two weeks on how shit in my life’s going and based on that he deems whether I can continue living with my father or not” obviously she hadn’t told him the truth, or the entire truth at least. There was no way he would let her live with that maniac if he knew what really happened.

Her words bounced around in his mind. “I’ve only slept with one man, and it wasn’t even consensual. Wasn’t even consensual” she hadn’t given consent. “You were raped” he blurted out. she looked at him with a face of indifference. “Well I wouldn’t go so far to say that-“ “did you and this man have intercourse?” He cut her off. “Yes” she answered honestly, “did you give him consent” “No” she shook her head. “That means you were raped-“ she was about to protest but he continued “-he invaded your body without asking or having permission.”

“Even if you had given consent, that still makes him a pedophile, you have to report this” he couldn’t believe this. The girl everyone had belittled for being a slut was actually a rape victim. “I can't,” she whispered. “Why not” he raised his voice slightly, maybe she didn’t understand the magnitude of this situation, but he did. “Because in some fucked up way...I care about him” she laughed but there was no humour in it. Looking up at him he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes, and he knew that this was hurting her, breaking her. She was pleading with him to drop it. “Rae...” he trailed off, he was sorry for her, not in a pity kind of way, but in a you-don’t-deserve-this kind of way.

“Look,” she said, straightening up a bit. “It happened years ago, I have no way to prove that it even happened. The bastard is already in jail anyways” she said, reaching across the table to put her hand over his, not to take a fry. She smiled at him softly, he didn’t agree with her and was willing to take this to court, even pay for a lawyer, but there wasn’t much he could do if she didn’t want to. So, he just returned the smile.

It was weird, less than an hour ago he hadn’t spoken to her once, and now it felt like they knew each other better than anyone else. He had just thought of her as a skanky dealer, another criminal that should be locked up. It was true, what she had said, that everybody has a story. He silently vowed to never judge another person without truly knowing their story first. This may have been their first conversation, but something told him it wouldn’t be their last.

***

A/N: This came to me when I was watching Euphoria and Shameless videos :)

Papes - The paper you roll weed up in (I think, don’t know if that’s how you spell it)

Balmain Biker Jacket is this expensive leather jacket

[iimuchakk]

Seven seas babies AU - The Journey

Hinahoho’s babies xxx

The five little beans and their father are so excited to go back to Sindria to see Kikiriku and the other’s it’s not even funny

If it wasn’t for all the commotion Hinahoho could of sworn he saw Ahanu smile...

Catori is already getting together her favorite clothes and weapons, whilst Aponi’s already packed

She’s desperate to get a tan

poor babies so pale

Of course Bodaway and Badzill are super duper excited!

People back in Sindria aren't use to their pranks and mischief

they’re pretty sure big bro Ja’far will appreciate the break from work to deal with them

unless he decides the break from work grants him permission to break their necks

wouldn’t be surprising

Turns out, Hinahoho didn’t realize how hard it was going to be keeping himself and five children all together on one ship despite its gigantic size

“Give me back my hair brush Catori!” 

“No Aponi this is mine!”

“DADDY!”

Too much drama for the poor Imuchakk man!

The twin boys are no better

Every second he looks away he has a new note attached to his back

At least Ahanu is being calm at least

Actually, where is Ahanu?

“OH MY SOLOMON STOP WRESTLING SHARKS!”

He’s pretty sure if Rurumu was alive they’d be to scared to pull this crap

How long is the journey over seas again?

A few months?

oh great.

how fun.

Meanwhile, Kikiriku just drinks all the alcohol he can get his hands on

Knowing family time is not always fun time

but annoying time

Ja’far’s babies xxx

Rabi has never looked so hyperactive

and that’s bad

because he is usually hyperactive anyways

has only ever met Hinahoho’s family once when they were very young

not including Kikiriku, who he is rather close with

and that’s about it

Ja’far is just as excited but shows it in smaller doses 

he’s told Rabi a bit about his old friends

though most of Rabi’s information comes from uncle sin and Drakon, who are less busy then his dad

Ja’far has to actually organize everyone's arrivals and their journeys through letter’s and magic circles, so it’s no surprise he’s tired

“No need to threat dad. I’m sure some magic trick’s will cheer you up!”

They don’t

they really don’t Rabi

So Rabi moves on

Trying to decide what color looks best on him since he’s pretty sure ginger hair is hard to match with

decide’s to go with pink, he feels it brings out his eyes

Sinbad applaud’s him on his extravagant choice

Kikiriku, Spyro and Sadiq don’t want to break his little heart and tell him he looks terrible so they just...smile(?)

Ja’far and wife-co decide an awkward thumbs up is probably best in this situation

At least the other’s arriving are all excepting...

Sinbad’s babies xxx

Does not care

Sadiq has no interest with meeting these people

From the stories he’s been hearing they’re all

tiny, flat chested

over grown

cocky, big headed

spineless, overly religious

boring, emotionless

crazy wizard people!

He already has enough of that with Rabi

boi needs no more of that craziness in his life

Sinbad’s been trying to get him excited

offering him Sharrkan’s guidance as a sword fighting teacher because -

“Your foot work really need’s work. Perhaps when you learn to control yourself better in battle, you can be as good as me~?”

g l a r e

nothing else really changes

goes about his day as usual

mentally curses the fact his dad is more clingy then usual

spends a lot of him time in the garden hiding in the bushes whilst everyone else’s happily awaits the arrival of the others

angrily chews on some near by leaves

Where’s Spyro when you need him?

Drakon’s babies xxx

Is really scared about meeting everyone

His parents speak really fondly of the old generals, and he’s worried his appearance might scare them

Tries to find something nice to wear that hide’s most of him away whilst still looking approachable

Saher laughs at him

points to Drakon

“If they can put up with his face then your looks will be easy to cope with.”

“Jee thanks mom.”

If you couldn’t tell that was sarcastic

Spyro also wants to show of a little

just a little...

and decides to make the training ground look nice and civilized so he can invite someone back to spar with

wants to show everyone he’s strong

since it’s the only quality he really like’s about himself

Is dragged to Rabi’s room to watch the boy practically cat walk his outfits

“Yes Rabi you look beautiful. CanIPleaseLeave?”

Can’t find Sadiq anywhere and is very worried

Until Kikiriku tell’s him he saw him chewing on plants that he’s fine

Spartos babies xxx

Very casual journey

wifu stays at home to keep everything in order

Spartos is practically pining after her as soon as the boat leaves the harbor

Elizabeth and Junior have never been more ashamed of their father’s pathetic display of sniveling affection. 

He’s smitten.

“Why is he so insistent about wanting to hold her...?”

“Because Liz, he was a virgin so long before he met her it probably feels weird to know he’s going to have to wait at least a year before any more shenanigans.”

“THATS NOT TRUE I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR MOTHER “ ;((((

Whole way there is basically cheering up Spartos instead of enjoying the journey to Sindria

Elizabeth will sing for her father from time to time and brings him food, and Spartos appreciates that she tries

Junior’s attempts are less subtle...

Tries to get his dad to do stupid thing’s to get his mind off his mother like:

A: Will dad appreciate rain dancing on a boat? Possibly causing a storm

B: Fishing in shark infested waters?

C: Drowning themselves so they don’t have to deal with his whining?

Junior is very excited to meet the people in his dad’s past life

really wants to spar with someone

oh please say someone wants to spar

Elizabeth is less excited, more curious then anything.

Shes desperate to meet the king of Sindria

Not for him himself, but rather his jewelry

Masrur’s babies xxx

Wives Razol and Rehema decided they don’t want to go

For them it’s basically a holiday

Masrur has the kids with him for a month or two whilst they get to do whatever they like?

See you Masrur

Have fun~

Sadi’s only ever met Ja’far and Sinbad

likes them a lot

would appreciate it if they would arm wrestle with her

how else would she prove shes better?

Very keen to show off

In-fact Masrur want’s her too

Something about showing two people swords and magic suck compared to the fanalis race? Whatever that means.

Angelou kind of just shrugs

He’s a lot like his dad after all

You think meeting some strangers is gonna excite him? Nah

Poor Angelou just wants to rest

Knows it’s basically going to be him baby sitting Ruby

His little sister is defiantly going to be trying to prove herself?

Ever seen a fanalis punch someone in the face?!

Yes?

Ever had a fanalis punch you in the face?!

No?

Stand still!!

Masrur should probably warn the generals about her...

And Dominic. Well Dominic’s just worried

Dosent want to let his father down

He’s in touch with his feminine side

Nervous that the generals will make fun of Masrur for it

Thinking of ways to make himself seem more manly

Sharrkans babies xxx

There is no easy way to put this

Ozymandias is a little brat

On the ship he’s constantly crying

Defiantly not a sea baby

It’s okay though

Sharrkan just loves listening to crying babies when HES TRYING TO SLEEP ITS GREAT HONESTLY HES SO NOT DYING INSIDE

Always checking constantly to make sure Ozymandias isn’t sick

He remembers when his mother grew ill and Ozymandias’ mother

He can’t let that happen

Every time he walks into a room his son throws a toy snake at him

9/10 it hits him in the face

He loves his son really...

In-fact, ever since he’s had Ozymandias he’s been compeltly ignoring women

Actually now that he thinks about it he wasn’t had...you know what in a long time

Has it changed!?

Is he even doing it right!?

Que baby crying

“SOMEONE HELP ME!”

Yamraiha’s babies xxx

Dosent want to travel through a magic circle incase she hurts the baby in her belly

Boat ride it is

Ever been stuck on a month boat ride with a pregnant woman?

No

LUCKY YOU!

If she’s craving a food that isn’t there, someone is about to have a broken neck

LET HER EAT DAMMIT!

Can’t get comfortable in any position and the rocking of the boat just makes her morning sickness worst

Accidentally threw up on someone’s shoes...

Lays in bed thinking about possible baby names but can’t come up with any she likes so proceeds to cry into her pillow.

Looks fat in everything

The generals are going to think she looks fat

Sharrkan is 100% going to laugh at her being fat

Que power nap

This trip better be worth it...

Pisti’s babies xxx

Tir is ready for take off

Pisti has already decked him out in feathers galore and won’t he stop trying to climb up on every single bird he sees

She can’t help but laugh at him

He’s such a bundle of energy

No trouble at all

“HES GONNA GET HIS EYES PECKED OUT SOMEONE STOP HIM!”

Okay maybe a bit of trouble

But nothing auntie Pisti can’t solve right!

Right?...

Pisti decides to fly over to Sindria because why not? It’s a lot quicker

To stop Tir from falling off she makes a harness that she straps around the chest of the bird so Tir is facing her the whole time

BIG MISTAKE

The whole way there he’s just gargling at her and poking her boobs

Then he cries when he realises how small they are

IF HE DOSENT WATCH HIS ATTITUDE SHE WILL THROW HIM OFF THE BIRD!

Debates if it’s even worth drinking in sindria because Tir is a full time job

Pisti? Not drinking?

She joins in with Tir’s cries

It’s a painful journey with a peacock coloured Tir alright...

[belorage]

Wes for the full clear on the OC asks? 😘😘😘

— OC QUESTIONS

BASICS

What’s their full name? Wesley Daniel Brooks

What does their name mean? Why were they named that? Wesley means “western meadow,” Daniel means “God is my judge,” and Brooks means “stream.” You can find my real world reasoning for choosing his name here. As for the canon reasoning, Wesley is a family name on his father’s side and Daniel is a good Christian name. 

Do they have any nicknames? Lots. Wes is the big one (Hwes if you’re Hurk Jr.), Rook, Dep (Deputy if you're as extra as John Seed), Bright Eyes (Raf only), Sundance (Nick only), Darling (Lyra, when she’s being cheeky), and probably a handful more that I’m forgetting.

How old are they? 28, almost 29 as of the start of FC5.

When’s their birthday? November 11, 1989

What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance? Scorpio sun, Aries moon, Aquarius rising. Year of the snake. Birthstones are topaz and citrine. He isn’t aware enough of any of this to believe in it.

What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities? He is a natural disaster in human form. His special ability is that he somehow manages to survive that for as long as he does.

What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor? A revolver (Steel & Ivory), a sawed-off shotgun (Sin Eater), or basic hand-to-hand. Close combat is preferable to range. He also uses homemade C4 in his tireless crusade against cult infrastructure.

APPEARANCE

What do they look like? He’s 6′3″, has brown-ish hair (specifically, a warm golden bronze color) and hazel eyes with long eyelashes. Fit, moderate-to-lean build. Sharp features, angular jaw, a pronounced Cupid’s bow. He has the facial hair of a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks, because he is—you guessed it—a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks.

Do they have a face claim? Tomas Skoloudik

What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup? Casual clothing—flannels (often tied around the waist), t-shirts, henleys, jeans, boots, jewelry (gold, leather), leather jacket, cargo jacket. His hair is messy and soft, just like he is, because he doesn’t overload it with hair products unlike some people. He’s got an ouroboros tattooed around the lower part of his right forearm and (universe-dependent) John and Lyra’s names on the inside of his wrists.

How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression? He attempts to project swagger and indifference, but to anyone who knows him and is paying attention, he’s an open book. In a comfortable environment, he’s loose and casual. His default expression is fixated if he has something to occupy his mind and distant if he doesn’t.

Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities? No, but he’s got bruises and flesh wounds aplenty! He’s got bite marks and scratches galore! You want knife-slashing scars? He’s got twenty. But who cares? No big deal. Wes wants mooooore! 🎵

PERSONALITY

What’s their alignment? Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into? ISFP

What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)? I answered for his favorite films and TV here, and his favorite book is Watership Down. He likes the Beatles and bar snacks and black coffee. His favorite cultists are Lyra, John, and Shaggy—please don’t judge him.

What are they bad at? Dancing!

What kind of things do they dislike/hate? Hates being controlled, dislikes very sweet things.

Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses? Impulsiveness, reactive behaviors. He smokes and drinks, although neither of those are done with a shocking amount of excess. Previously, harder drugs. 

What are their goals and motivations? Freedom and acceptance.

What are their manners like? Any habits? He’s not a jerk; he has passable manners when the situation calls for them, but Emily Post would like him not. His habits are covered in much more detail here, but the big one is that he tends to busy his hands and/or mouth with things wherever possible.

What are they most afraid of? Rejection, abandonment, enclosed spaces, death (specifically, the possibility of an afterlife). 

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like? Born in Hope County. He was an only child and his home life was suspect, but made moderately more bearable by his best friend. Once he realized trying to please his father was a losing battle, he said hell yeah to a downward spiral of rebelliousness and troublemaking.

What’s their family like? His dad was a jerk of the sort that would never be satisfied. Big on toxic masculinity, short on acceptance. His mother loved him, but she fell in line more often than not.

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold? Hope County Sheriff’s Office (probationary sheriff’s deputy), Hope County Resistance (figurehead, pot stirrer, problem magnet). 

How do they fit into their “story”? Barely. Next question. I hate to use this word yet again, but it’s the only one that fits: his story is mostly about acceptance—self, fate, fault, sorrow, joy—because as much as he desired acceptance from others, he denied a lot of it for himself.

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like? He grew up in the Silver Lake trailer park, way up on the northeastern end of Holland Valley, near the Whitetails. For the duration of the game timeline, I picture him spending more time crashing where he can—with the Ryes, in the woods, wherever—but his own place would be sparse and fairly untidy, with clothes tossed everywhere. 

How do they eventually die? Wesley intends to live forever. How dare you insinuate—

RELATIONSHIPS

Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend? Within the timeline of the game, he has quite a few. Raf is his best friend (and has been since they were kids), but Nick (and Kim) are both up there. He has a soft spot for Mary May; that seems to be reciprocal. He appreciates Grace because she doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. Sharky and Hurk offer unconditional friendship, which he appreciates and sorely needs. Adelaide is the vodka aunt who thirsts after his ex. She tries to rile him up sometimes (in a myriad of ways), but he likes her. And if you account for other universes, his friend count goes way up thanks to the various and sundry brat squad kids.

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it? When he was younger, he was the introvert-adopted-by-an-extrovert. He was a bit too withdrawn to have friends outside of that, though he wasn’t unfriendly. For a bulk of the current timeline, his friend group is “ragtag misfits” status and he basically gets ping-ponged between them as they try—with varying amounts of success—to fight a cult.  

What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids? Depends on the universe. In canon, it’s messy but becomes significantly healthier later on. His previous relationship was promising and likely would have been ideal, except that they were young and unable (or unready) to deal with the realities of their situation. In AU, he is enemies-with-benefits but also grossly in love with the Judge of Eden’s Gate and her husband (who was a fun surprise, but it’s fine, because Wes got Lyra back by giving her a gracious two-for-one deal on children)!

Who do they look up to? Who do they trust? Whitehorse is something of a father figure, though Wes would never say that out loud. For the record, neither would Whitehorse (at least not directly to Wes)—mostly for Wes’s benefit. He trusts Raf, Pastor Jerome, and the rest of his friends listed above.

Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies? Joseph, because Joseph is daddy issues incarnate. Jacob, because Jacob understands Wes well enough to yank him around like a dog on a leash. By the time the Collapse hits, everyone is his enemy to some extent (as evidenced by the adorable horns and pointy tails drawn all over his wanted posters). Notable exceptions are John, Sharky, Hurk, and Whitehorse; however, all but the first are functionally unknown to him.

Do they have any pets? Just Boomer, who is the best emotional support animal a disaster could ask for.

Are they good with kids? Animals? He’s naturally good with both children and animals, but he lacks practical experience, especially with the former (shout-out to the Ryes for finally adding that to his resume).

FUN FACTS

Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes? Tropewise, he’s Troubled, but Cute and I can’t refute it; apart from the high school thing, it’s a full BINGO clear. He’s also Bruiser with a Soft Center, Inferiority Superiority Complex, Cosmic Plaything, Desperately Craves Affection, Hero with Bad Publicity, I Am Not My Father, and almost certainly a whole host of shameful others that I don’t dare brave the rest of TVTropes to find. Of the twelve classic archetypes, he’s some combination of The Hero and The Outlaw. Otherwise: fallen angel, antihero, byronic hero, prodigal son. 

Do they play any instruments? Sports? He can play guitar, but only at an intermediate level. He’s not big on sports, but he can ice skate and he likes to swim.

What are some items they always carry? Steel & Ivory and a lighter; later, Sin Eater. In New Dawn he carries John’s watch.

Do they collect anything? Bad decisions. Minicultists, apparently. Nothing in particular.

What position do they sleep in? His default position when he’s alone and in a comfortable place is on his belly. There are exceptions listed in greater detail here.

Which emoji would they use the most? Honestly, he’s not really the type to use emojis, but he will send his love interest pictures of things he likes or finds pretty with no context. Otherwise, his texts tend to be short, to-the-point, and lacking in punctuation or capitalization. Believe it or not, he’d much rather communicate in person. My most frequently used emojis for him are 🍰 and 🐍. (Awww, cake and snake... They rhyme. How precious!)

What languages do they speak? English. He knows a limited amount of Spanish, but he’s better at understanding it than he is at speaking it.

What’s their favorite expletive? Damn or fuck.

What’s their favorite candle scent? Pine.

What songs remind you of them? I have a playlist for him here, but it—much like him—is a bit of a mess. I also have a playlist based on his own taste in music here.

Which animal would you say represents them? Snakes, stags, swans, scorpions.

What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into? Loners or troublemakers, probably. Stoners on a technicality—he doesn’t fit the stereotype, but he does have a history. He has some of the soul of an art kid but, tragically, none of the talent.

What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be? At a real amusement park, probably the roller coasters. At something more lowkey like a carnival, he’d like the classic, aesthetically pleasing rides like the Ferris wheel or the carousel.

Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else? He’s not an “I Want to Believe” sort of guy, but he still can’t explain the Larry Parker debacle. He tries very hard not to believe (or at least not to think about) any sort of afterlife, because he fears it.

Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays? His family was Catholic, but he endeavors not to be. He likely wouldn’t celebrate holidays as a bachelor overmuch, but he would take part in holiday activities with others.

Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue? Pride and Fortitude.

If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, which would it be? The Tower, The Devil, The Wheel of Fortune.

[marveloussupernerd]

Crowns and Courtships - A Mysme AU

Chapter 5 - The Prince

Chapter 4

A regency era fic where the readers get to choose the romanced LI! All Casual and Deep story LIs are options.

Words: 2075

Summary: you take a long walk with Prince Jumin, then decide to spend some time with Mr. Saeyoung Choi. Maybe you can teach him, or his horse, some manners.

“Alright then.” Jumin turned to you. “Would you accompany me for a walk?” You nodded, taking his arm as you walked towards the door. Before leaving, you put on a hat to hide your face from the bright sun, then went outside. The Prince was leading the way and went backwards: towards the stables first. It would be interesting to gain a new perspective on the lands by going this route.

“Your lands are quite beautiful. You will have to come to our kingdom sometime to see ours,” he proposed.

“Of course, it would only be fair-”

There he was. The bastard who had almost killed her with a horse. Same horse, this time not running at a ridiculous speed, but going in slow circles. He hopped off the horse when he saw you. “Princess, you’re looking much better,” he greeted cheekily. He looked over at the prince. The slight paling of his face made it clear that he had no clue who the man was. “It’s nice to see that somebody is able to tolerate her.”

“It’s nice to see that my stable boy is finally learning how to ride a horse,” you retorted, eyes trained on the horse in the field.

The Prince let out a laugh. It was nice that he wasn’t immediately insulted by her tone. “I’m guessing this is the cause of your accident?”

“Mr. Choi, this is Prince Jumin. He’s from the kingdom next to ours. Mr. Choi was employed when he helped my father on his journey back from your kingdom; his horse had gotten injured,” you explained.

“Well it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Mr. Choi greeted, bowing to the Prince. Your mouth taped slightly; he did not address you in that manner.

“We must be continuing on,” you urged ever so slightly. You really didn’t want to deal with him anymore. You weren’t sure if he looked down on women, or if for some reason he just really didn’t like you, but it made you mad that he would address others formally but address you in such a manner.

They continued on. “It seems that you don’t like him,” Prince Jumin caught on.

“I will keep my thoughts to myself, but he did almost run me down with his horse the other day.”

“Well, you’ve certainly showed him. By going out and about, and with your remark,” he glanced at you and smiled, then you continued on towards the garden.

“I don’t mean to make retorts like that; I apologize you had to witness it.” You confessed.

He picked a flower. It was a rose. “I think you are quite like this rose. Thorns down here,” he lifted up his finger; he had cut himself, “to protect you from people. But to those who persevere, you show yourself as one of the most beautiful flowers of all,” He carefully handed the flower to you, warning you to be careful of the thorns. Two flowers within a week. You could not show him your flush. This was so embarrassing.

“You could just take the flower off its stem, that way you would not have to worry about poking yourself,” you commented, holding the flower carefully in order to prevent yourself from getting a cut.

He was dabbing the light amount of blood with his handkerchief. “I think it loses a lot of its personality if you take it off its stem, though.”

“The thorns are a method of self-defense: keeps animals from trying to eat them,” you explained, admiring the flowers.

“Then you understand that it would be a crime to take away such an important feature, even if they may be more flawless without it.” He put his handkerchief back into his pocket. He was ready to continue the walk.

“I quite like the way you think about life.”

“I quite like the way you handle yourself, especially with people like him.”

You continued on the walk in near silence, except for the few times the prince would compliment something about the castle. He seemed to thoroughly admire architecture, paying note to how the roof was designed and the stones were laid.

“Thank you for the walk Prince Jumin; I thoroughly enjoyed your insights,” you expressed graciously.

He bowed to you in return: “It was my pleasure. I cannot wait to see you soon; when is your family traveling to the city?”

“In six days.”

“Then I will see you in six days,” he kissed the top of your hand, “Have a good evening, Princess.”

After parting ways with the family, you were able to go upstairs and finally rest some more. However, when you looked out your bedroom window, you saw Mr. Choi, still sitting on the problematic horse and moving in circles. It hardly seemed like he was working. You changed into a pair of pants and a long riding skirt and headed out to see what he was up to.

He didn’t seem to notice you at first, still insistent on making the same turns with the horse. You decided it would be fun to tease him: “Oh my, I wonder what could be next… perhaps another left turn! Horse riding is oh so exciting.” You made your way closer to the horse.

“I know it may seem like the same thing over and over again, but it’s important to train the basic movements before stepping it up to full-out riding.” He hopped off the horse to face you. “Small steps.”

“Did you decide that before or after it tried to run me down?”

He paused, scratching his neck. “Well, after. In my old town I was good at helping animals with their injuries. I never really grew up taking them.” You were surprised to hear him sharing a bit about his personal life. He rolled his eyes. “Oh close your mouth. I might never share anything with you again.”

“I’d like to try riding the horse.” You decided.

“I don’t think it’ll take well to you, especially considering it’s never been ridden by a lady.” Another moment of ladies not having enough power over something. Perhaps it was because ladies did not straddle the horse? You would prove that you could take on the challenge and face it better than him, despite the odds being more difficult for you. He realized you would not give in, and went into the stables to grab a saddle appropriate for your riding position. He offered his hand to help uou mount the horse, but you ignored it; instead lifting yourself aboard the horse.

“Now watch and learn.” You started the horse out slowly, moving in a straight line to get a real for its gait; it was actually not a bad horse to ride: not too bumpy, not too tall. Time to make a right turn: shocking! The horse had never done this move before! The horse turned pretty simply. It was finally when you brought the horse to a gallop that you began to question its integrity. It did not take the instruction well, and a gallop turned into a stride. One quick turn, and you had fallen off the horse. This time, you took Mr. Choi’s hand and let him help you off the ground.

“That was quite an impressive right turn,” he teased, “but it seems neither of us can get it to control its gallop yet.”

He had a point. You ignored his comments though and mounted once again. When it started to speed up during the gallop, you pulled the reins tightly. It came to a quick stop, throwing you forward, but you managed to stay on. You waited for a witty remark, but it never came. You turned the horse slowly and urged a gallop again. This time, it refrained from going too ridiculously fast. The slowing down still went horrible, and you were knocked off once more; but the horse understood the gallop at least! Mr. Choi seemed surprised.

“It wasn’t that hard. I can’t believe you’ve been doing left turns all this time when you could have been doing something more beneficial, like this.”

“Yes well there’s still a lot to do. Don’t think that by making the horse gallop one time, you’re suddenly the horse whisperer,” he argued back.

“Isn’t that what you seemed to think the one time you helped my dad’s horse’s injured leg? Or is it different because you’re a man?” You hadn’t meant to pull the sex card on him, but it just slipped out. It was about time you pointed it out, though.

“That’s not why it’s different-”

You ignored him entirely; focusing your attention on petting and rewarding the horse, speaking softly to it. “Does he have a name?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Not yet.”

“Thomas.”

“Ew, that’s an awful name for a horse,” he replied, his nose scrunched up, almost in disgust. It made you laugh.

“I’m pretty bad with names so you’ll have to let me think it through for a while. Until then, you better not give it a name.”

“I’d rather not face your wrath anymore than needed,” he winked at you, laughing.

“Have a good night; hopefully by this time tomorrow he’ll be able to stop smoothly. However, if you need assistance with your own job, you know where to find me.” You turned, a smug smile on your face, then walked away.

The evening passed more quickly than anyone could have anticipated, and the time to travel to the city was quickly approaching. It was decided that Mr. Choi and Jaehee would accompany the family to the city for your debut. The time flew by uneventfully: you started teaching Jaehee how to embroider, Mr. Choi had taught the new horse how to stop, just in time for the trip. Sir Zen was going to stay back at the castle and do some research into who was targeting you. The houses were much closer together in the city and far smaller, therefore more safe from conspirators.

Jaehee was pushing your clothes down to fit into the trunk for travel. You were leaving for London in the morning; the town’s seamstress had brought a brand new dress for you to wear for your first garden party in the afternoon. You couldn’t help but admire the pearls detailing the blush pink skirt. It was absolutely beautiful and you couldn’t wait to wear it.

“I believe you are all packed Princess,” Jaehee announced, hooking the latch on the chest. “I will have Sir Zen carry it downstairs to be loaded into the carriage in the morning.”

“Thank you Jaehee. Now please! I insist you start packing your own belongings. We’ll be there for a few weeks, so make sure you bring everything you can’t live without,” you urged. Jaehee nodded, pushing the chest into the sitting area so that Sir Zen could carry it down, then got set to her own room to pack her things. You could hardly keep your eyes open any longer, and drifted to sleep.

You were awoken abruptly by a knock on the door. You didn’t even have time to compose yourself before the door swung open. “Princess,” it was Sir Zen; he sounded frantic, “while I was bringing your trunk down, somebody left this at your door.” He handed you the note.

The ink was smudged and the handwriting was sloppy. It was evident that it was written in a hurry. “Be wary of who you choose in London.” it warned. It was horribly ominous. “Who could have written this?” You asked, shocked, although you knew the answer.

“My guess is the people who don’t like what you’re doing with your courtship,” he pulled out a dagger: “It was pinned to your door with this.”

You felt faint. “Sir Zen, I’d prefer if you stayed watch in my room tonight, if that’s alright with you.” It was embarrassing to ask, but there was so much danger.

He took a seat near the window, a decent distance from your bed. “Anything to keep you safe from those people.”

You tossed and turned. It was nearly impossible to sleep knowing that the group was making threats on your life now. “It’ll be okay,” Zen comforted. He scooted slightly closer to you so he could look into your eyes; his were comforting and warm. “You can sleep; I won’t let anything happen to you.”

With those comforting words, you were finally able to fall asleep.

[zukofenty]

always be my maybe

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara could never quite get their timing right. Especially when the universe throws a lost condom, thousands of miles, and a baby in their way. 

“I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, Celebrity Chef!Katara, Doctor!Zuko, Love, Rosie!AU 

AO3 @zutaraweek

“Go a couple rounds, leave Zuko’s dick up in a casket!” Toph screams into the microphone, undeterred by the various guests who stare up at her, mouth open and half-chewed, dry-as-fuck chicken spilling out. It wasn’t her fault, really! As soon as Zuko handed the mic off to her, he basically gave her free reign to spit a Megan Thee Stallion verse in his honor. “Sing with me, bitches! Look up the lyrics on Genius.com, Cheryl!” 

 “Sit down !” Katara squeezes out from clenched teeth, ripping the device out from the girl’s grip. 

 “I didn’t even get to the chorus, you fucking whore .” A bridesmaid nervously plucks the mic from their table and avoids eye contact with both of them. “What’s going on with you, bitch?” Toph asks quietly. She could tell Katara’s been doing her fake smile for the last twenty minutes. The girl was practically going to break her face open with how hard she was grinding her teeth. 

 “Just thinking.” Katara wants to smack herself in the face, pinch a nipple and bring herself to reality. Everything felt too real, and Toph could sense it. She’s the type to somehow sense when Katara shifts in her seat a certain way to covertly satisfy a cooch itch, and then buys her Monistat the same day. 

 She hates that she could never hide any emotion from her. Toph could always figure out the puzzle pieces that were Katara. One of the few to know the real her, besides Zuko. 

 Sometimes Katara thinks the younger girl knows her better than him. At least now. Especially now. 

 “About?” Toph takes an experimental sip from the wine glass, and gags. The juice tasted like Gatorade and cum. “Why the fuck would anyone want a dry wedding? Weddings are the only time you get to see your alcoholic uncle vomit all over the bride’s shoes, and then your closeted aunt has to wipe up the puke and her reputation from the floor while thinking of her secret girlfriend at home watching Tiger King .” 

 “That example was extremely specific and extremely unnecessary.” Katara brushes a crunchy curl, doused in hairspray, from her eyes. 

 “Sorry, I got distracted. I had dick on the brain, or whatever Rihanna said,” Toph mumbles, risking a bite of the chicken.

 Katara turns to see him at the couple’s table in the center of the extravagant wedding, and sighs. “And for your information, I was just thinking when will he penetrate my esophagus? You know, just girly things.” 

 Toph has the gall to slap the girl on the cheek. 

 Katara holds her stinging face, eyes narrowed in an unspoken threat for fucking up the parts of her face she didn’t set with powder (she was going for a dewy look, sue her). “Not fair! You were the one who called my throat the baby chute earlier today!”

 “Ok, throat goat. One, he’s getting married. Two, you’re sick.” 

 “My therapist will most likely cosign that,” Katara sighs. Toph holds Katara’s hand and leans her head on her shoulder as they watch Zuko mingle with guests. 

  This is the happiest day of his life. 

 Her best friend of twenty odd years was getting married. He looked so handsome, so happy. A suit that looked like it would cost someone’s rent and a half casually hugging his muscular frame. A blinding smile on his face, cheeks flushed from champagne and excitement. 

 When he turns her way, his smile grows impossibly wider. Toph clinks on a champagne glass with a fork, breaking it a la Princess Diaries , and Katara could feel the stares of nearly everyone in the room, ready for her speech. 

  It should be the happiest day of my life, too. 

  Right?

 Katara thinks she wants to cry. 

 //

 Now, how come none of those Judy Blume, coming-of-age books have a chapter on how to write a Best Woman speech for your best friend getting married to another woman, even when you were struggling with the fact that you might have been in love with him for the past two decades? 

 Bitch, what the fuck do you even start that Google Doc with? 

 Does she start at 4 years old? When Katara thinks Zuko is an annoying piece of shit?  

 But, you know, he’s her piece of shit. 

 Guys have hepatitis, or cooties, or whatever Sokka said, she couldn’t exactly remember. All she remembered was Zuko sucked. He stole her crayons and made fun of her Hello Kitty backpack on the first day of school. He was the stupid one, not Hello Kitty . Never Hello Kitty . She’d shoved his face into the playground’s wood chips, threatened to cut off his peepee for breathing down her neck with his retainer breath, and even stuck his head in between two slices of white bread and lovingly referring to him as an ‘idiot sandwich’ (Sokka let her watch too many Gordon Ramsey hosted shows while their dad was working late). 

 Zuko and Katara were practically inseparable ever since. 

 Or 10, when you were asking for trouble if you fucked with Zuko.  

 He was a tiny kid, glasses too big for his head. Hair shaggy, clothes too oversized for him (just the way he liked it). His dad had tried beating it into him that it showed weakness by not making waves, not being loud and proud. But, he was quiet by nature. For him, it was just easier. 

 Not stirring the pot, being the observer, looking in from the outside. He was just Zuko , he liked Wonder Woman comics and figuring out what other words besides BOOBIES he could spell with his calculator instead of actually doing his math homework, because he was bad at math. Bad at everything, really. Everything but band class. Even if he did hate that stupid fucking tsungi horn. 

 His mom would hide his report cards from his dad, especially the ones noting how shy he was (Mrs. Kim had used the exact words ‘very antisocial, very easy to bully’). Even when Ursa would ask him to try, try to make friends outside of Katara, he was always a stubborn little thing. Something you got from your father , she would say, the smile slipping off her face just the slightest.

 It was just more fun being by himself, the only exception he made was Katara. He spent his recess scribbling down a plot for a Love Amongst the Dragons Fanfiction and listening to Katara’s iPod he’d steal from her, just because he could , after she snuck it out from her backpack for the 10 minute break they had. It was the iPod she spent the last two Christmases saving up with Sokka for. Zuko insisted he could master Ludacris’s rap in Usher’s “Yeah!” and practiced the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she had custody of the device.

 Some days, Katara would sit beside him in her signature puffy blue jacket, struggling to fold herself to fit on the blacktop beside Zuko. The patented jacket her grandmother forced her to wear every single day obstructing her abilities. He snickers, but keeps quiet, content with plotting out a story that he would hopefully get to type out on the school library’s computers if his mom picked him up late again. She usually did, much to the dismay of the ladies at the front office. They typically hissed at him (which made him cry, to which they would have to offer him a cherry Otter pop so they wouldn’t face a lawsuit) and called his mom words he couldn’t repeat without getting in trouble (“Whore”). 

 Katara would babble on about her day, sometimes thinking of ways for his characters to die a painful death, or cooking up Fanfic plots for Beyoncé and Britney Spears to find love among the chaos of a zombie infestation. She always insisted she brought the creative range to their friendship. Some days though, Katara forgets all about him and plays handball with all the most popular girls in school. 

 Zuko’s jealous. 

 (Sometimes.) 

  She’s my best friend! He wants to scream in their faces. At the end of the day, he thinks he’s going to lose her. The day she realized she was too good, too cool for the likes of him. 

 “Chan, stop it!” Zuko squeaked, his notebook snatched from underneath his nose. The boy was always picking a fight. Your dad buys you a Motorola flip phone and suddenly you think you’re the shit. 

 The boy sneers at Zuko, flipping through the pages. “What do we have here? Are you drawing Shrek with boobies? You’re gonna jack off to that later, freak?” 

 Before Zuko could get a word in and defend his honor, Chan’s entire body was shoved to the ground, a dainty foot cased in a light up, white Skechers sneaker pressing into his face. Zuko couldn’t help his glee as Katara could barely be peeled off and stopped from repeatedly slamming Chan’s face into the hopscotch chalk court. “It’s all ogre now, bitch!” 

 She made sure to pin her detention slip to her Bratz backpack with pride. Zuko buys two treats that day from the student store before he walks her home. 

 “You’re my best friend, forever and ever,” Katara declares, head held up high. Zuko saw through it, though. He knows she’s scared of what Hakoda has to say, what Gran Gran has to say. So, he holds her hand tight, trying to relay his gratitude in the touch. 

 He licks at his Spongebob popsicle. The eyes had melted off and looked more like someone’s worst nightmare than an icy treat. Katara had wanted his cherry Otter pop, and he happily handed it over. “Pinky promise?” He holds out his finger. 

 Katara hooks her finger around his, dwarfing his tiny digit. Her outstretched smile stained orange. “I’ll break yours if you ever forget.” 

 At 15, Katara came to the realization that men have the emotional intelligence of a Souplantation crouton (may Souplantation rest in peace). 

 Growing up, with their dad and grandma always at work at their store, Katara was always in charge of cooking. No matter how many times she’d try to get Sokka to do it, he always insisted he was far too busy with taking out the trash, killing bugs, hating women. So, she was stuck with it, and honest-to-Rihanna, really liked it. Not that she’d ever let Sokka ever get the satisfaction of knowing it. It was her time to be alone, gave her the space to pop in a Cheetah Girls CD and pretend she won Masterchef with the struggle meal straight out of a Spam can she had to pound on a few times to get it to squeeze out from its gelatinous casing, or a whitewashed recipe she tried replicating whenever she catches a Rachael Ray rerun. 

 Though, Katara’s favorite time was chopping up the green onions under Ursa’s careful eyes, a hand always just there in realign the knife just in case she’d carelessly cut the green onions too big to garnish. Then, Ursa would then take out scissors because nobody had time for that. When his dad wasn’t home, Zuko’s mom opened up their doors across the street to the siblings, rambling about the next big painting she was planning as they scarfed down a home cooked meal. 

 Zuko was similar to his mom in that regard. They were the type of people who managed to make everyday moments larger-than-life, made it infectious, too. When it’s nighttime and he’s snuck into and snug in Katara’s room, he’d tell her dreams too big for anyone’s comprehension. Sometimes he dreamed he had tits that would leak chunky chicken noodle soup. Sometimes he’d ramble until her eyes are flitting shut and he’s left talking to himself and measuring his hand with hers, securing the leg she instantly throws over his waist. He’d like to think he was her only exception in the Souplantation crouton narrative. 

 Her bed is starting to smell like him, too. His favorite Costco brand shampoo and conditioner that he leaves in her bathroom, permeating her nostrils when she pulled him close. She even let him put up a Drake poster right next to her plethora of Rihanna ones, but only after he let her draw a penis on both his and Drake’s face. What he didn’t account for was her using a permanent marker, or the fact he couldn’t scrub it away from his cheeks for the next two days. 

 It was easy like this, just the two of them. 

 He’s there for all the birthdays and Halloweens and Christmases that left her not quite feeling whole. When things were hard, when things fucking sucked, when she wanted nothing more but to die. He was there, (stupidly) holding out his hand and willing to be the eye to her hurricane.

 At 15, Zuko decides Katara feels home.  

 At 18, Zuko had already been Katara’s many firsts. 

He was her first buffet partner, and brought back his Justin Bieber haircut just to pretend he was 12 so they could qualify for children's rates and a complimentary Oreo cheesecake because they were always celebrating his “birthday.” 

 Her first clubbing partner the second she turned 18, rubbing her back when any Beyoncé song with a Jay-Z feature came on because the second he cheated on Beyoncé, he cheated on everyone in the Beyhive. The first one to have to hold her as she hurled on his shoes, the first one to have to take her to get her stomach pumped. 

 The first person she tried to roll a joint with. 

  “I don’t need to learn that.” 

  Katara purses her lips. “And why not?” 

  He gestures to his face. “I’m too pretty. Only ugly bitches know how to do that . ” 

  Sokka thinks he needs to intervene when he hears Zuko’s tsungi horn case being chucked across the room . 

 The first person she (almost) fucked. 

 His family life was, for lack of a better word, fucked up. Katara had been witness to the drinking, the drugs, the crying. The nights where she sometimes didn’t know if the person standing in front of her was Zuko. She just wanted one night away from it all, just one night out on the town. 

  “That was kind of terrible,” Katara admits easily, wincing because she was sure he spilled Papa John’s garlic dipping sauce in his shitty Corolla’s air filter last Tuesday. He tried positioning his arm naturally underneath her head while their half naked bodies were pressed together, but he ended up smacking off her glasses. He even had the audacity to contently sigh as though he accomplished something, rather than just tangle her hair and give her a tension headache. 

  She felt lied to! Cheated! Bamboozled! Hoodwinked! All the Shrek and Y/N stories on FF.net could not prepare her for the fact that there weren’t any tongues fighting for dominance, or any mouths that tasted like cinnamon or musk or shit like that. It was just retainer to retainer and smelled distinctly of her awkward friend (cheese). It was sweaty and a lot of weird humping and felt like a visit to the gyno. 

  “Hey! I thought it was pleasantly average.” He clears his throat. “You know, besides the fact you farted mid-insertion and I started crying after 20 seconds.” 

  “You mean right after you came, right?” She says matter-of-factly. 

  He glared. “Is it my fault you have a gorilla grip pussy? Is it?” 

  “Zuko, you’re so fucking — ” 

  “What happens when you put a hot dog in the microwave for 2 minutes?” He crosses his hands and folds them over his lap like a professor waiting for a volunteer to answer the equation on the board. 

  “So in this metaphor, are you calling my pussy a microwave?” 

 But in true Zuko and Katara fashion, it was clumsy and a mess and could be erased with an emergency Burger King outing where they ate in silence and pinky promised never to speak of it again. 

 She wonders if Zuko should’ve been her first date to prom, too. 

 She wants to stop feeling so bothered . She couldn’t quite pin it, but lately everything he did frustrated the shit out of her. How he was taller than her now. How he didn’t need her to fight his battles because he goes to the gym now and wears a fake Gucci belt because he’s just so cool (brooding Asian guy is the trend, and Zuko thinks he’s the blueprint). How he said yes to going to prom with Mai, the prettiest girl in their grade.

 “Don’t look in there!” Katara yelps, a blush creeping on her cheeks. 

 “Why?” Zuko questions, taken aback. He was entirely too comfortable in her room.

 “Um. Maybe I don’t want a freak going through my dirty underwear pile!” Her eyebrows are halfway done, and she only has one eyelash glued on. She was stressed, scared her dress might not fit with how many of Sokka’s cookies she stress-ate because she just wanted the night to be perfect . 

 “Relax, what are a few discharge stains going to do to me, huh? If anything, it gives your pussy some much-needed personality.” Zuko wasn’t going to stop until he found his fake Gucci belt in Katara’s closet. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs. 

 “Do I have to remind you about the time you broke our friendship bracelet while masturbating and I dug the bead out of your vagina like the good friend I am?” 

 She shoves him back from the closet, crowding in his space. That belt was going to remain in its rightful place. “Oh, fuck you! I took the fall for you when you opened your laptop in history class and forgot to exit from your “VIBRATING PANTIES” porn tab!” She pushes him before plopping on her bed. 

 Katara buries her face in her pillow at that point, too entirely embarrassed and body too hot to continue to look at his nonchalant face. He doesn’t quite remember when exactly Katara became so cute . 

 Pretty? Definitely. Fearless? For sure. 

 But blushing Katara, embarrassed Katara, cute Katara? 

 He thinks it’s because they rarely saw each other now, despite his patented place in her bed. His band, Hello Zuko, was aiming for at least a few dive bar performances to build a reputation, especially with their new title track “Tennis Ball.” Katara was a familiar face at their town’s soup kitchens.

  “Where are you going?” he would sleepily mumble as he tried taking his midday nap before late night performances.

  Katara’s hands are full with ingredients, swaying side to side and eyes red and drowsy. “Trying to temper chocolate. Why? What’s up?” 

 She never misses a performance, though. Comes to them with a sparkly poster doused in glitter, and t-shirts with his face on them and everything. He never misses a fundraising event, making sure to bring a steaming thermos filled with tea because Katara was never the type to remember to take care of herself, and always buys out her fundraising goodies (even her overbaked brownies.) 

 He pulls her up by her ponytail, cupping her face in between his hands. 

 “You look cute.” 

 “You look like the human equivalent of toeless socks,” Katara mumbles, face squished in between Zuko’s hands. “Why are you giving my clit piercing a kiss kiss right now? What do you want?” 

 Zuko shakes her head in between his hands. “Pinky promise me you’ll drop all penises to dance with me if they play any Usher song?” It was like he was in fifth grade all over again. “Call me a Nissan because I just want you Altima-self.” 

 She lets out a cackle, the sound nearly deafening. “Don’t worry, the DJ will get us falling in love again in no time.”  

 “Do you have to go with Jet?” He asks, pouting. He lays his head in her lap, too entirely preoccupied with picking at her pilling sweatpants to look at her questioning eyes. They promised they were going to be each others’ dates at the beginning of the school year. It was more fun going to dances with Katara. She knew how to do the worm and every lyric to every Rihanna song out there (but she refuses to sing any with Chris Brown parts). 

 “What? You know I like my men stupid.” She runs her hands through his locks, undoing the crunchy gel job that Iroh had painstakingly spent time on. Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him it made him look like a youth pastor.

 “You do like your communal meat thermometers.” He wants to keep the hurt out of his voice. 

 She shoves him off her, getting up to put on the dress hanging off her closet’s door handle. “You’re going with Mai, remember?” She yells through the closed closet door. 

 “But the thing is, I’m not planning to fuck her afterwards at the shitty hotel like it’s some type of CW show with some old bitches playing teenagers!” 

 “Just say XOXO, Gossip Girl .” 

 He still resents her for getting him invested in Blair Waldorf’s headband collection. “It’s not my fault Jet looks old. He looks like he’s at least 27 for fuck’s sake!” His face grows more distressed as he spits out each word. He only said yes to going with Mai after finding out Jet asked Katara using some shitty poster that said “my heart is always running when I see you” with a box of Nike outlet sneakers after English class. 

 “I think you’re just jealous that I emptied my intestines for someone who is about to be in it within the next three hours. When have I ever done that for you?” 

 Zuko’s about to retort something until Katara slams open the door, flooding his eyes with a dusty blue, curve hugging dress that did weird things to him. Like make his heart beat out of his chest, and his throat all dry when he’s searching for the words to say. Looking for the right words that say he thinks it’s impossible someone’s smile could make sunsets brighter, make the stars twinkle even more, make the unthinkable just a fingertip’s grasp away. 

 “Can you see the outline of my underwear and/or desperation from the back?” Her spin has him bumbling like an idiot. 

 //

 He wishes it was Katara that night. Letting him shyly press his sweaty fingers into her waist as Katy Perry’s “E.T.” pierced their eardrums. He knows she would have pinched his nipples as punishment, all things considered. But the fluorescent lights of the disco ball would’ve highlighted how her pretty flush would dust her cheeks, and he would hold her close to his beating heart despite her complaining her foundation would stain his Target dress shirt, and everything would make sense. 

 “Did you cum?” Jet was absolutely pretty with an oh-so fat horse cock. Too bad he was like the Justin Timberlakes of the world, and always spoke unprovoked. 

 Katara scoffs. “Yeah, I came to my senses.” She flicked his forehead. “How would I do that? Tell me. How the fuck would a few thrusts and you panting your Sweet and Sour sauce breath in my ear get me off?” She shoves the sweating boy off her. “Can I say jk and will it make me a virgin again?” The hotel room had scratchy sheets and smelled like a waterpark bathroom. 

 He groaned. “I’m sorry .” He’s completely unremorseful. “Your tits smell like Cinnabon’s cinnamon rolls and I couldn’t help myself!” Katara is about to cut his dick off for breathing in the same vicinity as her, before a gasp stops her entire world. 

 //

 “Zuko!” she screeches, opening the hotel door with the same devastation as when Britney Spears discovered Ryan Seacrest wasn’t gay painting her features. 

 “You know what they say.” Zuko’s smirking, entirely ignoring Katara fuming. “Chlamydia is the powerhouse of the cell.”

 “You’re. A. Dick!” She says in between smacks to his head. Jet makes a speedy exit, still pantsless and clutching his suit to his chest, while Zuko mouths a ‘ call me’ to Mai, who amusedly waves goodbye to Katara. 

 “Oh god, this is exactly like the bead incident all over again.” 

 “ You’re not helping! ” 

 “Maybe we’ll find Atlantis up there too,” Zuko murmurs, concentrating on positioning the hotel’s mirror under her legs. 

 “Please, Rihanna. Have mercy on me.” Katara’s hands are in prayer mode as Zuko turns on his phone’s flashlight. “I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me. All those times I took an extra gummy vitamin were a joke . I never wanted to die, I just wanted to feel a little thrill in my life. Please—” 

 Zuko screams when the squelch of the condom splatters onto the mirror. 

 //

 “You’re wearing underwear under there right?” He likes the look of his blazer draping over her, buttoned to look like a chic, oversized dress and not because it was the easiest thing to throw over Katara to run and grab Plan B. 

 “No, because I would obviously let my fat cooter out, cute and bare and vulnerable in a Walmart.” 

 “A simple yes would have sufficed.” 

 She’s reaching for the box and wincing at the price when she feels a gentle nudge on her arm. “Ma’am, your entire pussy is out in a Walmart,” the employee breathes out pathetically. 

 “I am well aware.” She ekes out. 

 The employee eyes her up and down with a gaze that practically calls her a whore . “Please put her away.” Zuko’s face grows beet red as he tries holding back a laugh. 

 It was always easy like this. When the world was just Zuko and Katara, holding hands in her driveway while they watched the sun rise in his shitty Corolla. She’s still wrapped up in his blazer, he’s since loosened his cheap tie and his hair is sticking every which way. She likes his smile, especially now that it comes so easy. 

 He’s smiling a lot more now that his father is gone. Ozai essentially told Azula and Zuko to fuck off , and ran off to some big city to steer a hospital with too many controversies and too many white guys at the helm. Iroh came back from his meditation sabbatical, enthusiastic to take care of the siblings. Zuko seems a lot happier with Iroh around, and even spends nights sleeping in his actual bed. (Katara’s a little hurt, but keeps that to herself). 

 She wishes she could bottle up these moments with Zuko up and just hold them in her hands. Moments when they were still young and curious and still had time to wait for life to figure itself out. She wants to find a way to make these a permanent fixture, instead of memories that would fade with age. “Let’s get out of here,” he offers up, eyes starry. 

 “Yeah?” She folds her knees up to her chest, and he taps her under her chin to level their gazes. 

 “ Republic City . We can make something out of lives. Medical school, culinary school. Get out of this shithole. Get away from our past.” His smile is contagious. “Best friends, forever and ever, right?” 

 She’s so pretty, her wide eyes sparkling as they take in the rays of sun. She returns his smile. “Best friends, forever and ever.” 

 Katara remembers how Ursa would say Zuko always dreamt too big, his heart always wanting so, so much . 

 “It’s a blessing, but more of a curse,” she would note, with the wisdom only mothers are capable of possessing. Sometimes, Katara selfishly thinks the day Ursa left hurt her more than it hurt Zuko. They were impossibly close, to the point where Zuko even had to intervene when Ursa started siding with Katara during their arguments (he knows in his heart his Mother’s Day macaroni portrait of her was better). 

 She would wonder how the world could let her live like this, dangling something she’s always wanted right in front of her face, only to snatch it away. Wonder if it was easier to die, than live with a hole in her heart that seemingly doubled in size overnight. 

//

 “Zuko, please look at me.” 

 He’s mad, she could tell. With his pout and the way he was forcibly trying to squeeze his eyes in a glare. He’s been sitting in the same spot in her bed, eyes trained on tutorials on how to convincingly persuade your doctor to give you an adderall prescription and “who bit Beyonce” conspiracy videos. 

 “Well, what if I just wanted you to respect my privacy! For the first time in 15 years! Maybe I needed space!” She yelps after twenty minutes of the silent treatment. 

 Zuko sends her a look that has her freezing up on the spot. “Katara, you had a whole baby .”

 She felt thoroughly scolded, but she was stubborn. “And? What about it?” 

 “You had an entire one, and didn’t even bother to tell the godfather? When was I supposed to find out?” 

 Katara didn’t think that one through, to be honest. It was easy to forget, in between diapers that smelled like a fish sauce and an expired Vagisil smoothie, and balancing work. She lays down beside him, thoroughly exhausted after putting her little girl, Yue, down for a nap. “One, who made you the godfather? And two, I guess we’re just not close like that.” 

 “Look, I literally have your social security number memorized, and have practically given you a Pap smear. You really want to say ‘ we’re not close like that ?” He sends her a look that has her resolve faltering the slightest. “You did your pregnancy announcement like a Sailor Moon transformation sequence with before and after pictures of you being pregnant, and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?” 

 Katara gasps. “I had you blocked !” 

 “Azula’s a snitch!” He also got a glimpse of the photo of Katara in her hoe time dress that barely fit over her belly with the caption: how the mighty have fallen . He pauses, sucking in a breath of air for strength. The hurt flashes in his eyes and the only thing she could think to do was wrap him up in a familiar embrace. 

 At 19, Katara is so incredibly lost, and just wants her best friend by her side. 

 He’s busy, the summer before everything Republic City. Everytime she tries their house, Azula answers, rolling her eyes while clad in a Harry Styles shirt, because it’s a girl’s rite of passage to go through a One Direction phase and wear badly made merchandise from Hot Topic. He’s usually busy packing, or fucking Mai until she sounds like a car alarm during Fourth of July fireworks. 

 “Azula, no . You cannot kidnap Mai’s younger brother and trade him in for concert tickets to send a message.” 

 “Not even for floor ones?” Katara’s glare summed up her answer. “I used to look up to you,” Azula retorts, returning to her stan Twitter.

 She waits, waits, waits. The moans keep coming and she just rolls her eyes. Her stomach churns, mainly because she thinks Mai called Zuko’s dick The Pussy Penetrator every time he hit her g spot (you know what, good for her). But also because her scholarship to the university was less than she expected, and Hakoda didn’t want to cosign on a loan. She just wanted her best friend to be there for her. 

 She feels sick, sick enough to vomit in one of Iroh’s plants, while Azula rubs small circles into her back. 

 “You should’ve swallowed,” Toph reminds, bundling Katara’s thick hair into a ponytail as the girl hurled up her California roll. She’s so exhausted, she even leans her head against the Walmart toilet bowl, five positive pregnancy tests tossed carelessly beside her. 

 “Think it’s too late for that,” Katara grits out. “What are you doing?” 

 The last thing she expected was Toph’s hands gathering together in prayer formation. “Praying to Rihanna your period comes.” 

 Like many people her age, having a mental breakdown during a pregnancy scare and praying for a miracle in a public restroom was normal. But for the first time in her life, besides the time Rihanna willingly twerked on Drake at the 2011 Grammys, Ms. Robyn Fenty herself failed her. 

 “Fetus deletus that bitch! Fuck them kids !” She brings herself eye-level to Katara’s stomach. “Read the womb, bitch!” 

 “Did you just call my unborn baby a bitch?” Katara’s eyes are bleary from the smell of vomit and her future going down the drain.

 “You should’ve kept that bitch-baby in the drafts,” Toph sweeps the stray hairs from Katara’s watery eyes. “My cousin saved up for her abortion by running a pyramid scheme. I can get you her number.”

 Katara wanted to die. “I think I’m just going to crawl in this toilet and die. Call my brother if I don’t get flushed down all the way.” 

 “Again, I’m just a Walmart employee,” Toph snickers, helping the girl up. She’s rarely left her side since then. Their friendship just works, a pair of fuckups. The girl with the accident baby, and the Walmart security guard trying to figure out her own shit after running away from home. 

 “I should’ve been there!” Zuko reminds, tone heavy with betrayal.

 Katara remembered the few moments before he boarded the plane to Republic City. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to tell him to not get on the flight, to keep holding her like he did at the entrance of the gate. She had a kiss ready on her lips that he wasn’t ready to give, backing away when their faces were too close, when she was too close. He just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with regrets.

 “I should’ve been there holding your hand, letting you call me names, and fighting nurses if they breathed too close to this precious angel,” Yue holds his pinky with her little fingers, almost as though it was a natural reaction. His heart simply seizes up at the gesture, and he holds her tighter to his body. She was wailing after waking from her nap, colic crackling her throat for the last three months and causing her middle of the night wakeups to be painful and frequent. But with Zuko, she’s all calm and perfect and polite and beautiful and angelic. 

 “Didn’t know you liked kids this much,” Katara shrugs. She leans in, and Zuko throws his free arm around her. 

 “I’ll have you know I am the resident expert in telling children’s stories,” Zuko insists. 

 “Like?” Katara quirks up her brow. 

 “Like Rumpleforeskin, the mythical man who can weave majestic golden fleece from the ends of his pubic hair.” 

 She smacks him upside the head. “You’re disgusting .” She curls in deeper into his embrace. He had that twinkle in his eye that could mean he was going to masturbate to this moment in the shower later, or he was in love. It renders her breathless every time 

 She hopes when he looks at her he doesn’t see the eye bags, or the titty milk leaking everywhere, or the permanent crease in her brow. She hopes he could still see her, underneath it all. When she was just Katara . 

 “I guess, not telling you was just my way of keeping our dream alive.” She pauses, stroking Yue’s barely there hair. “I keep thinking that one day I could find the time to go to Republic City, and I don’t know. Get a chance to just be me .” 

 “Do you regret it?” Zuko’s rubbing circles into her back until she gets sleepy and her heart feels too full. 

 “I don’t know.” She tries, quiet, almost ashamed. “I don’t know.” 

 //

 At 21, Katara feels like she’s at the top of the world. 

 Not only did she get promoted from girl wearing a dumpling costume outside handing out 15% off coupons that only worked if you left a Yelp review, to a server in a shitty dim sum restaurant, she was also accepted in the culinary program at the local university. It wasn’t Republic City per say, but Yue could attend the nearby preschool and go to the university-run childcare program afterwards while Katara was working. 

 She even got a hold of Jet, who refused to disclose his location or job. But judging by the copious child support mandated by some judge who hated men as much as Katara did, he was doing well. He sometimes Venmos Katara a few extra dollars on Yue’s birthdays. 

 Sokka and Hakoda, while hesitant to the little girl’s presence early on, spoil her absolutely rotten. When they think Katara’s passed out after her 14 hour days, they’re red in the face, screaming at Zuko over the phone about who was going to get Yue the Peppa Pig Playhouse (complete with flashing lights) she always talks about. 

 Hakoda even tries at therapy, wanting to be there for the apple of his eye. Sometimes, Katara’s hurt he never tried for her, tried in her childhood. She’s happy for him, nonetheless. 

  (Mostly) everything was working out.

 “How are both my girls doing?” Zuko would always sing-song during his nightly Facetime calls. Yue would scream and snatch the phone from Katara’s hands, delighted at the sound of her one and only Uncle Zuzu. He’s an extravagant gift giver, regularly sending Yue glittery Hello Kitty and Wonder Woman backpacks. He even buys her a whole iPad for her fourth birthday, already coming with child safe settings on and YouTube loaded with her favorites (namely, Barbie: Fairytopia ). He’s guilty he couldn’t come home, but then again, he rarely ever did. Too consumed with work, grad school applications.

 Katara can’t help but feel her heart pulse the slightest bit faster during those calls, even if she shuts it down as quickly as it comes.

  He’s so good to her . 

 She used to cherish those moments he used to tell her secrets, dreams, everything in those hours early in the morning before high school would start. With approximately 3,209 miles between the two of them, she wakes up to texts instead. 

 **

Zuko: I dreamed that I was being held at gunpoint by one of those thicc caterpillars from A Bug’s Life , and if I didn’t finish the MCAT in approximately 20 minutes, they would shoot me in the face. The dump truck ass of those ants were the bullets

Katara: Please block my number

Zuko: No. <3

**

 He’s all gentle smiles and eyes squeezing into little half moons just like Yue’s after he plays a game of Facetime patty cake and messes up on the beat just to hear the little girl laugh. 

 The next month, Zuko had decided enough was enough . He missed his girl. 

 His hospital, for the first time in a year, was letting him have the weekend off. So he books Katara a ticket straight away, because he thinks he’s going to die if he has to be around people who don’t know who Megan Thee Stallion is. 

 “Boys only speak two languages. English and emotional manipulation,” Toph reprimands, hugging Katara so tight she could barely get in a word. “Please remember that.” 

 It was her first time leaving her hometown in her life, her first time on an airplane for God’s sake. She’s jittery though, the cushioned seats Toph somehow upgraded her ticket to (after covertly whispering with the gate attendant) doing nothing to alleviate her nerves. 

 When she jumps in his arms in baggage claim, he breathes in deep. Her hugs have always warmed his insides, and he didn’t realize how much he craved it until he was greedy, pressing into her and refusing to let go despite her many protests.

 “Come here often?” he mumbles, smiling into her shoulder. 

 Her cheeks grew hot at his touch. “Occasionally.” She whispers back. 

 He decided there and then in front of Gate 3 they needed to make up for lost time as quickly as possible. 

 The college party is entirely too sticky, entirely too messy for a proper (extremely) late 21st birthday celebration. Her crop top and big earrings and glittery eyeshadow and endless curves has Zuko wondering how much he’s missed in the last few years. When she hugs him close to her and screams out Nicki Minaj lyrics, he doesn’t remember her being so soft and even prettier. Beautiful. Breathtaking, knocking the wind out his lungs if she as so much blinked. 

 She looks like any 21 year old, without a care in the world, just figuring out their life. He wonders what this version of Zuko and Katara was. 

 Maybe they got to go to Republic City together. Maybe they work in the same building, and are just letting steam off from work. Maybe they loved each other. It was dangerous though. He feels as though she’s caging him in, that grip on his heart sparking up again without his permission. Her fake lashes he saw her glue on in the airport bathroom flutter about, hands coming up to accentuate her words every time she tries to scream something in his ear over the pulsating music. He just grips her waist harder between his hands, holding her tight.

 //

 In a perfect world, all she saw was him. She wishes it was him. She sometimes thinks she sees Zuko’s eyes in Yue. She sees his smile. She sees his heart. 

 While they’d spent the entire night stumbling through the city, his girlfriend was home. Barefoot, pregnant. Looking like the cover of some women’s lifestyle magazine, stray curls escaping her bun to frame her face in all its angelic glory. Glowy and flawless and every bit beautiful. Different from the girl Katara caught crying in the kitchen.  “You can hate me all you want, you can talk shit about me all you want. But I love him,” Jin insists. “I’m his girlfriend , for fuck’s sake. 

 Katara has to stop herself from recoiling. She had a specific vision of their future. One that included doing taxes together and matching sweaters and teaching him her new macaroon recipe and Yue balanced on his lap. 

 But one look at Jin, and it becomes glaringly obvious how little she fit in with his new life. 

 “I don’t hate you, Jin.” It’s every bit sincere, but the girl doesn’t look convinced. 

 Jin rolls her eyes. A pointed look freezing Katara in her place.

 “Ok, I might’ve complained once or twice about your VSCO filter choice.” 

 “Yeah, Zuko sent a screenshot of your texts to me instead of you by accident.” 

 “God, you know he always fucking does that? To be fair though, M05 is too orange and is not a good look on anyone. You can do better, I know you can.” The two girls laugh. It was devoid of any genuine emotion, just meant as an attempt to fill the empty space between them. “If I had known. Fuck, if I had just known, I’m sorry, Jin.” She had no idea Zuko had a kid on the way, that they were still living together and determined to co-parent while their relationship was in a weird limbo. If she was Jin, she would’ve kicked someone’s pussy and made a scene and set something on fire. But Jin wasn’t that type of girl. Jin was soft and pretty and looked like she smelled like an interior designer's perfectly bleached asshole. 

 “Do you love him?” Jin seemed to shrink into herself, small enough Katara might miss her in a blink of an eye. 

 Katara couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind the question. She thinks she’s too scared to. 

 Katara doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t trust herself to speak. This Zuko wasn’t the Zuko she knew. She loved the Zuko who would steal people’s Netflix passwords off of 4chan, and cosplay as Todoroki at Anime Con to make a few bucks. Not the one who can afford sky rises in the big city. 

 He didn’t even tell her that his big internship in the city was for his father’s hospital, and he was next in line to running it. “You’re a lawyer with health insurance and your own Netflix account! You’re good for him, Jin.” Katara falters the slightest. “I just want to see Zuko happy.” 

 “Me too.” Jin says quietly.

 “Whatever, fuck Zuko !” She tries at extending the olive branch.  “I can’t believe you’re preggers!” She puts a gentle hand on Jin's belly, and her vagina immediately winces. “You know, your vag will never look the same, and you might grow a third boob in your armpit.” 

 “You’re lying .” 

 “Yeah, a lump of breast milk can form there, too!” Katara is about to scroll to the photo in her phone when Jin laughter breaks through the night. 

 //

 “I hope your dick gets bitten off mid-blowjob!” She whisper-screams, struggling with her suitcase until it smacks all at nearly every corner and edge. She was just making noise for the sake of making noise, but it made her feel better. 

 He didn’t expect waking up to a charge on his card for a flight booked in the last ten minutes, or Katara shoving his good mixer in her suitcase. 

 “You hate it don’t you?” He always loved it when Katara went into Hulk mode anytime a bully dared test her protective nature. While it was never entirely directed at him, he now understands exactly why Chan peed his pants. Katara was terrifying . 

 “What?” Zuko’s confused, rubbing an eye booger away. 

 “You loved it when I’m crying over Jet, crying over something, fucking something up in my life. Being mad at the world. You hate that I’m better, and making something of myself now!” She’s angry and grasping at straws. 

 Zuko furrows his brows, not sure where to progress from here. “Ok, run that by me again?” 

 The air vanishes when her stare cools over to absolutely icy.  “There’s nothing else I can give. So what the fuck do you want from me?” 

 He laughs, all hollow and almost mocking . “You know, I was afraid of you coming here.” He lies.  

 She stops in her tracks. “What the hell do you mean?” 

 “I thought...I thought you wouldn’t get this new me, because it’s different!” He protests. “See, this is exactly the reason why! You’re mad I can afford real Gucci !” 

 Katara recoils, looking embarrassed for him. God, were men so fucking stupid, and so proud of it, too. “Are you fucking serious.” 

 Zuko’s frustrated, running his hands through his hair. “What the fuck are we doing, Katara?” 

 “You tell me!” She demands. “I’m not that kind of girl, Zuko! I’m not that kind of girl that is going to break up a fucking engagement, or whatever the fuck you weirdos are doing!” 

 He throws up his hands. “I’m not happy! We’re not happy.” 

 “What? You think now that you’ve sold your soul to your piece of shit dad and you can buy jewelry that won’t turn your fingers green that I’m going to fuck you?” 

 “No! I’m not saying that—”

 Katara scoffs. “Then what the fuck are you saying? Grow up, Zuko. Grow the fuck up and just leave me the fuck alone .” 

 “You’re still Katara.” He throws his hands up in the air, trying to stop her. Even if he felt like his entire world was falling apart, there was one thing he would always be certain about. “I’m still Zuko. The same Zuko who loves you .” 

 Katara turns her head, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “The thing is, this isn’t you, Zuko.” Katara says with finality. “It isn’t you .” 

 When she gets home, she spots it right away. On their dining table, white paper folded neatly,  Yue was the type of little girl who looked to both sides of the street before crossing, repeating it  two more times to be safe. She always took extra care to make everything even, never a wrinkle in sight on her homework. 

 The Crayola family portrait that brought to life everything she’d imagined and more. Katara doesn’t have the heart to look for longer than a second. 

 //

 At 27, Katara’s pretending that it’s the happiest day of her life. 

 She didn’t think he would listen to her, you know, men rarely did anything right. Zuko, though, heeds her warning and only calls exactly two hours before Yue’s bedtime like clockwork. There weren’t any surprise texts to wake up to anymore, no more evidence of Zuko in her life. She doesn’t even find out about Jin’s affair with one of those Axe commercial guys until months later. 

 When she goes to unblock his number and text him, to try and talk to him, she gasps. She sees those grey iMessage bubbles, and she’s ashamed her heart splutters, awakening a feeling she thought she’s dampened. She puts her phone down for milliseconds, before checking it again and again and again. She finally threw the damn thing across the room when a week passed. 

 She thinks it’s for the better, especially when she was sure she finally got things right with Jet. 

 “ We’ll make this shit work together.” Jet reassures, gathering her close to him she could see every little detail of him. “Like Kanye said, ‘you’re a MILF, and I’m a mother-fucker.” 

 She covers her ears, pushing him into the restaurant’s glass door. “No thank you. No more non consensual reciting of Kanye verses.” 

 “Yeezy, breezy, beautiful, baby. Get into it.” Jet winks, and Katara feels herself gagging again.

 Then again, Katara always had a thing for stupid. And for three easy payments of $Penis.99, he had an all access experience to her pussy and her trauma. 

 “And he bought me those carrot cake cupcakes I always look at when we go to the supermarket but I never want to chance it because it could have raisins instead of nuts and I think I hate raisins more than I hate white men named Nathaniel.” 

 Toph jabs Katara in the forehead. “Wow, he spared $5 on some dry pastries, and your pussy was suddenly screaming pick me, pick me !” 

 “They were gluten free, too,” she points out. “Plus, my pussy doesn’t scream!” 

 “Oh right, my bad! It whispers!” 

 “ Toph !” 

 “Last night I heard it go wash me! Wash me!” 

 It felt good with him, though. It felt good to see him help Yue with math homework, making dinner in their little kitchen, pressing kisses to her in the morning despite her breath smelling like Khloe Kardashian’s earring backing pussy. Someone to come home to. 

 “Piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you!” She was punching him over and over again until her knuckles were ripped raw, sitting straight on his throat. Beating him stupid in the middle of her shift. He thought he could get away with it. With Katara now stuck in the kitchen as one of the head cooks, and the fact he had a reservation in one of the private rooms for him and his secretary to go over...numbers, he didn’t think much of it. 

 Too bad Toph was too invested, and had a friends-to-lovers storyline to live vicariously through. 

 “Scram, fuglies!” Toph screamed to other customers who had already started chanting “WorldStar!” 

 Katara lost her job, lost her mans, lost a section of her eyebrow because Toph accidentally tried helping and swung the wrong direction. 

  “Catch me outside, how ‘bout that!” She yelps triumphantly, despite the fact Katara was cradling her own bloodied face. 

 And here she was, about to lose her best friend, too. 

 She accidentally Facetimed his old number, and spent the last hour mulling over her feelings with an executive of a porn studio who picked up mid-shoot. “Just tell him you love him!” The balding man is exhausted.

 “What do I even say? Do I tell him, ‘I think I’ve always loved you?’ Is that too cheesy? You know that feeling when your heart just—Oh my fucking god! Is that Sandy Cheeks from Spongebob ?!” She screams, slamming her hands over her eyes. The squirrel’s melons-for-tits would never be erased from her memory.

 He only has fear in his eyes when he looks at her. “You didn’t see anything.” Robert bites out, promptly hanging up. 

 In her post-Jet purge, she realized she wasn’t the type of ex dead set on destroying his things. After all, she was selling his light-up keyboard to pay for Toph’s birthday boob job. Her residual anger was instead, spent hacking away at the drawer he always kept locked. Until she found it.  

 A letter from him. 

 “ I’ve always been afraid that our friendship would’ve spilled over until all I could do is categorize it with four simple letters .” Katara whispers, eyes frantically scanning the paper. “And I’m done being afraid .” 

 “The four letters he’s talking about is D-U-M-B  B-I-C-T-H . Dumb bitch. The ‘bitch’ is silent.” Toph insists. “I can’t believe you let a balding bum, whose credit score tanked because he invested his entire savings in Shake Weight Milkshake making machines, knock you up instead of Zuko.” 

 “It was innovative at the time,” she whispers. 

 “Fill the void in your heart, not your pussy.”

 She's whipping out her shitty MacBook Air, and praying his email still worked. But when she calls all she sees is her.

 “You told me to come to Republic City and find him!” Mai exclaims, holding up her hand where a big ring blinding the fuck out of her. 

 She feels her heart crumble at the same time she crushes the letter in her hand. 

 “I did do that, didn’t I?” Katara winces. The time the model stopped by in their hometown, Katara was still happy and getting her pussy pounded regularly and let that shit get to her head. She thought it would be a blessing in disguise, and wanted to help Zuko out, too. 

 "Fuck." 

 //

 Their wedding looked ripped out of a 2014 Basic Bitch Pinterest board, and she’s definitely sure she couldn’t be happier. 

 “Why is her name spelled like ‘Mai’ and pronounced ‘May?’ Like, shouldn’t it be spelled like ‘Mei?’” 

 “Katara, you’re just being a bitch,” Toph reminds while Katara stares at the sign with their wedding hashtag in front of the photobooth with all the ‘YOLO’ signs and 2013 mustaches.

 “I am well aware!” She asserts, chin jutting out. 

 Mai’s New York Fashion Week ready body was gorgeous, perfect in Zuko’s hold. 

 Katara wished life was like a rom-com. Where she could burst through the doors, declare her love, piss on him in her ugly, big bridesmaid dress and mark her territory once and for all. 

 But life wasn’t a movie. Life was just this shitty piece of dumpster fire shit and was always fucking her over like the Target self-checkout line camera. 

 What could she do? Deliver some long-winded speech about how she would go to realign the stars in the heavens if it meant a chance to rewrite their fate? That she hoped she visits his dreams before his mind could settle into reality, the same way he visited hers and overstayed his welcome every single time? Make everyone uncomfortable and wonder if they boned? 

 Then again, she was never going to be the one to block her best friend’s blessings. Not on the happiest day of his life.

 “I think this is the happiest day of my life.” Katara says seamlessly. 

 Zuko sees it though, sees right through her and has to stop himself from reaching out to her. 

 “It wasn’t ever easy being Zuko’s best friend. I mean look at him now, getting married to someone perfect . He’s not even in the same ballpark, league, or hell, stadium porta potty as her!” 

 Zuko ducks his head with a brief pout that breaks Katara’s heart. Everyone laughs in spite of him, until he joins in, too. “You know, it’s easy to pretend that finding love is easy. You could find love in all the little things in your life. All the people, all the details. It’s easy to say you always, completely, truly love someone. Because that’s what we want love to be, right? At the surface, sure.” She folds the flimsy paper she had on hand, nothing was written on it anyways. “You want it to be perfect.” 

 “But the love everyone works so hard to get, is the love that’s hard . It’s the love that isn’t safe. The love that challenges, excites you, the love that will never have limits. The love that’s messy and beautiful all at the same time.” She looks at him, truly looks at him for the first time in years and all she could do was smile. 

 “It’s easy to find love, but it’s near impossible to find a soulmate.” She raises her glass. “Join me in a toast to the bride and groom. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” 

 And while everyone is gathered out on the dance floor, she’s sobbing pathetically and smearing the winged eyeliner she worked so hard to perfect on the car ride there. Trying to stop any of the pain from consuming her. 

 She’s out on the rooftop of the venue, the cold air whipping her face as she tries lighting up a blunt. 

 “Are you getting high at my wedding !” Zuko is incredulous, and shocks Katara enough to drop the joint off the roof. 

 “On all things Fenty Beauty, bitch what the fuck?” Katara wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes. 

 “The flower girl wanted to see her mommy.” But Katara sees right through Yue’s little act. Pretending to sleep so she could be held by Zuko (me too, girl. Me too). 

 It felt dangerous, the way she could toy with his heart, his own personal defibrillator shocking it back to life. She’s pretty even with red-rimmed eyes, with the fake smiles he knew was trying to appease him to leave her alone. If anything, all it does is make him want to kiss her until her troubles are gone. 

 He wanted to do a lot of things at that moment. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin, tell her that above all else, he missed his girl the most. But, he had everything on his plate and then some. 

 “The chicken was dry as fuck.” He blurts, wiping the sweat from his face. Only Katara could send him back a few decades. “I wish you could’ve catered it.” 

 “Yeah?” She laughs and wants to call him out for stalking her company’s Facebook page. “Remember you tried my new recipe and you vomited all over the front row at your fourth ever Hello Zuko performance?” She misses his messy hair, when he didn’t look so clean cut and rich bitchy. 

 “I didn’t know you weren’t done cooking it!” 

 She shoves his head, and he joins her, dangling his feet precariously off the roof. 

 When she’s here with him, when he has her in his hold for the first time in years, he sees his whole life with just a glimpse in her eyes. And all he wants to do is build a machine and reverse all the time that’s passed them by. 

 “I made a mistake.” Zuko breathes out, eyes nervously darting around. 

 As sure as he was that Nicki Minaj deserved a Grammy, he was sure he loved her. 

 “W-What?” Katara blinks at him. 

 “I made a mistake, Katara.” He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, carding his hand through his hair. Looking every bit devastatingly handsome. “I realized something. After the speech, after just, everything.” 

 “I realized I just can’t have my cake and eat it, too.” 

 Just like that, just with the way he built her up, it comes tumbling down. 

 “So what are you saying?” Her heart was on the verge of cracking in half and he didn’t even know it. Because all he could pin her with a look she couldn’t read, and she thinks if he was a smarter man he would’ve at least pretended that it hurt him to hurt her. 

 But it did. 

 It broke him, ripped him in half to see her face turn to steel right before his eyes. 

 “What I’m saying is, after all these years.” He doesn’t have it in him to face her. “I think I have to finally let you go, Katara.” 

[dreadwulf]

not-a-WIP Wednesday

I was going to put this up on Work In Progress Wednesday but it’s not exactly a WIP so here it is today. This is essentially a one-shot scene from a modern AU Braime series that does not exist. 

I’m going to do something a little weird and post an excerpt from a modern AU series that I am not going to write. I was never going to do anything with this one, for several reasons - it’s modern AU which I don’t typically write, it’s first-person (AHH I KNOW, WHY???), it’s a pretty different take on Brienne that I don’t think people would like, I can’t do another series right now... it’s something I’ve been doing just for myself, and I’ve been having fun thinking it out. 

But I did get this scene written down and I like it, so here is a Tumblr-only bonus. 

You can probably put the scenario together from context, so I won’t say too much in set-up. The story would have been called Dogface, and this is well into it. J/B met under traumatic circumstances and have kept in touch afterwards via phone/internet, but rarely see each other in person. They definitely caught feelings but have kept it to themselves for reasons that will be clear.

So here it is.

***************************************************

I hug my raincoat around me. I’m getting his fancy chair wet, but I can’t bring myself to take it off. I’m unsettled enough right now without awkwardly wrestling with wet clothes. There’s no point trying to make myself comfortable anyway.

My hair drips rainwater down my face, and I stare at the carpet and try to stop shivering. The carpet is so thick I want to lie down and put my face in it. It reminds me of a 70’s shag carpet, except one that won the lottery and put on a silk robe. And white. Why is the room white? It doesn’t look like Jaime at all. I bet he never uses this room.

Only Lannisters can pay for rooms in New York City that they don’t use. 

In the next room (only Lannisters can pay for apartments in New York City that have so many rooms) Jaime says something about nobody’s sat in this stupid chair in all the time he’s lived here anyway and not to worry about messing it up. So I don’t, much. He shows up with a blanket that doesn’t go with this room at all, something quilted and old and fairly normal-looking, and wraps it around my shoulders.

I speak up suddenly. “They want to give me another surgery.”

He stops with his hands still on my arms. “On your face?”

I pull the blanket around me. “I saw this doctor - my father insisted - and he thinks he can fix my scars.”

“That’s good news! Isn’t it?” He comes around to sit on the uncomfortable-looking couch across from me. “Why don’t you think that’s good news?”

“They all say that.” I can feel his eyes on me and I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “They all think they can fix me, surgeons. They have some new thing, cutting edge, state of the art, and they’re not like those other doctors. This one’s going to fix my face, he’s special, he’s the one.”

He just stares at me for a second, working on a question, and it’s clear this has never occurred to him to wonder about. “How many surgeries have you had?”

Straight to the point, Lannister. No tact whatsoever. Drives me crazy, but today I like that. It saves time.

“Eleven.”

I hear his sudden intake of breath - he wasn’t expecting that. I smile bitterly. This is all new to him - my parade of doctors and hospitals - and I forget that it’s a big number, eleven. I guess the usual answer is zero.

“Most of them were right after the attack, when I was nine and ten. At first it really did improve things. I was pretty hideous just afterwards, for a while there was just a big hole in my face, basically, and they did fix that. But some of them only made things worse. They’d put new skin in and it wouldn’t take, my jawbone got infected, the muscles didn’t work. Then it was one every couple of years, when the new guy said he could undo the damage the last guy did, and sometimes he did but it would cause some other problem. It worked better but looked worse, and I lost some nerve function. I can’t even feel my face on this part.” 

I put up my hand and stroke the creepy blank part that’s all scar tissue and no nerves, where it feels like nothing at all, just in front of my ear. I had this weird impulse for awhile to just scratch there and keep scratching until I felt something. Just dig a big hole in my face again. But I’d have to have another surgery after that, and by then I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I shudder, thinking of hospitals and bandages and taking food through a straw and pain, lots of pain. 

“I swore it all off when I turned 18. I said what’s done is done, and this is my face now. There was nothing more they could do anymore, anyway. Just little things. The damage is too great.”

“But this one thinks he can do something?”

“Yeah.”

God, I wish I still had a drink. I look longingly at the liquor cabinet that was probably stocked with all kinds of wonderful things months ago, but it would be empty now. I should have had another gin and tonic before I left the bar.

Lannister follows my eyes, and sighs. He stands up like a tent collapsing and walks over to the fancy rosewood box I was looking at so longingly. 

When he opens the little door it’s my turn for my eyes to bug out. It’s full. He has all kinds of bottles in that cabinet. Big, expensive-looking bottles, and at least one decanter full of amber liquid. 

“I thought you quit?” I ask it before I can really think about what I’m saying, and when I do I cringe. 

“I did.” He carefully selects a bottle. “This is all old stuff. I should probably have thrown it out, but if I didn’t have a drink on hand for Cersei or Tyrion or my father when they came to call it would have been something to explain, and I don’t need the trouble.” 

I start to think about that - he shouldn’t be anywhere near alcohol, it’s too much of a temptation. And he keeps it around anyway because he doesn’t want to explain to his family that he’s an alcoholic. 

He pours one full glass. Not a small glass either.

“I shouldn’t. Not in front of you.” 

“Just this once. It’s a special occasion. Don’t turn down your host, it would be rude.” Jaime brings me the glass, a crystal twisting thing that looks like a movie prop. He hands it over carefully, so it won’t spill.

Has he really quit? If he’s keeping this around, I doubt it. But he looks a lot healthier than he did before, and he hasn’t sounded drunk over the phone lately, not like that first night at least. I think I’d be able to tell. I think. 

I’d like to be able to tell him that they would understand, they would support him like a family should and congratulate him on being sober, not drink in front of him and not encourage him to get plastered like usual but the thing is, they probably wouldn’t. He doesn’t have that kind of family. He has the kind that would scoff and say he was being a big baby and then give him a bottle of expensive liquor for his birthday to prove some bizarre point. Something just like this bottle.

I don’t tell him anything. I take the glass from him instead. The first swallow burns all the way down and I tell myself I will persuade him to get rid of the liquor before I go.

He grins at me and settles back in his chair. “Enjoy it. That’s about a hundred dollars you just drank.”

“Good lord.” I take a few swallows quickly. If I’m going to drink in front of him I can at least make it quick. The glass comes back to rest in my hands and I feel the round, full taste of the alcohol in my throat. “It’s delicious.”

“I know.” His smile turns sorrowful. “Used to be my favorite.”

The liquor sends a warming cloud all through me, out to my fingertips. It numbs that painful throb of dread that I’ve been feeling ever since I came out of the doctor’s office today, the old part of me that was always so stupidly hopeful that one day everything would be different. The part I thought I had killed. 

A little bit of my self-consciousness recedes. The part of me that knows exactly what I look like and exactly how I don’t fit, how ridiculous I am, what a fool I’m making of myself. It gets a little quieter and I can breathe again. I can exist without hating that I exist. I lean back a little in the chair and I start to feel warm again.

It’s nice.

It’s nice, sitting here.

His green eyes catch the light briefly, and for a second he is so devastatingly, painfully handsome it’s like a blow to the chest. His hair curls down over his face in a ludicrously appealing way, glossy and golden, and it could be one of his magazine photos right here in front of me. But I’m the only one here to appreciate it. Kind of a waste, really.

“He really is world-famous, I guess.” I turn the glass in my hands and let the words roll out of my mouth without looking at them too closely. “The surgeon I saw today. He’s fixed cases worse than mine, from what I’ve read. He made it sound so easy. Maybe he really could do something for me.”

He lays his arm up over the top of the couch casually. Never in my life have I been as at-ease as Jaime is all of the time. I would wonder if he was even listening to me, except I know he is, he always is. He pays a lot more attention to things than he lets on. 

“So when’s the surgery?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” I drink the rest of the glass, too fast, let the alcohol burn down me like a kind of punishment. Then I set the glass on his perfect coffee table. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to go back to hospitals and doctors and people squinting at my face like it’s a clogged sink they have to unplug. It’s awful. It’s horrible and I hate every minute of it and I told myself I would never do it again.”

He shrugs at me. “Then don’t do it.”

That pisses me off. How he makes everything sound so easy. The next thing I know I’m practically lecturing him. 

“How can I not do it? What if he really could fix me? I could have a normal face. I could cut my hair. I could get my picture taken like a normal person. I could look in the mirror without wincing. I could talk to people without their eyes going to my left cheek.” I’m getting loud. I guess I’m a loud drunk. I’m usually not around anyone when I’m drinking so I didn’t know it. “If I didn’t have this face, I could go farther in my career. Do interviews, meet people instead of freelancing and working at home. I could go on dates. I could have friends.”

“You could have all of that now.” He leans forward, now strangely intense. “You don’t have to stay shut up in your cave all of the time. You can go out, you can meet people.”

“People who will stare at me and laugh at me and pity me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand. With your face? You get free drinks everywhere you go with that face. You’re the most ridiculously photogenic person on earth. I bet even your driver’s license photo is beautiful. You could not possibly imagine my life.” That liquor is hitting me really hard now. Did he finish bottles of this all on his own? How?

Now he’s the one getting irritated. He starts raking a hand through his hair like he does whenever he’s too agitated to sit still. “Do it, don’t do it, it’s up to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Maybe just listen for once. I don’t want your advice. I wasn’t even going to tell anyone about this.” I put my head in my hands. My hair’s still wet. My hands come away damp. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m arguing with you. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now, do you?” Jaime tilts his head to one side, peering at me closely. “I’ve never seen you so worked up before, Brienne. And I’ve seen you with a gun to your head.”

I laugh a little. “I was too mad to be scared then.”

“What are you scared of now?”

I sniffle. Scared is not what I thought I was. But he’s probably right. “I don’t know. I think I… What if I did it and it doesn’t work? I get all my hopes up again and go through all the pain and the medicine and the time off work and the cost, god, I don’t even know how I would pay for it… and if I somehow got through all of that, and it didn’t work? Or it made my face worse? I don’t know what I’d do.”

That surprises me; I wasn’t planning to say any of that. I think a little more, because I think that’s not all, I think there’s something I’m even more afraid of.

“What if it does work and it doesn’t make anything better?”

I sit back again and let that sentence hang in the air all by itself. It plays in my head a few more times and I know now that I’ve said it, I won’t be able to stop thinking it. I’ll be staring at the ceiling thinking that now. Dammit.

Jaime looks confused though. “What do you mean?”

“I just... I’ve spent so many years thinking that if my face was better I would have this whole other life, that people would like me, my career would take off, I’d have a family of my own… just all of these things. What if I fixed my face and it still doesn’t happen? I’d still be… this.”

I hold out my arms, a little woozily, and I look at them. I look at my legs and how my knees jut up from the chair because it’s too low -- no, because I’m too big for it. I’m too big. I’m ridiculous. 

“I mean, look at me. Even without my face, people would still stare. I’m six foot five inches, you know. I wear a size eleven shoe. I have to special order my clothes. My shoulders are too broad, my jaw’s too big, I don’t have any curves like a woman should. I’m hardly a woman at all.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But you did. Remember?”  

He makes a sour face and clenches his jaw. “Yeah. I was being an asshole.”

“You’re far from the only one to say something about it. Even from the back I get comments, whispers, before they see my face. If I wear a dress they laugh at me, because I look like a man in a dress - I do, I know it.” I cut off whatever he is going to say. “I get called ‘Sir’ everywhere I go, even in a skirt, and then they see I’m a woman and either it’s funny or disgusting or I don’t know what. And it’s just as bad if I wear men’s clothes. I get that same moment of realization where people wonder what exactly I am. What am I trying to do, disguise myself? Am I transitioning one way or another? Do I have gender identity issues? Am I ashamed of being a woman? Suddenly they’ve imagined some whole identity for me that I didn’t choose. I’m not trying to be gender non-conforming, I just have this body and I have to live in it. Maybe I don’t want to wear men’s clothes! Maybe I’d like to wear something delicate and pretty and they just don’t make that for a woman like me, and if I wore it people would laugh!

“People get angry. At me. Because of what I am. I’m an ugly, manish woman and people hate that. They hate it when I try to do feminine things and they hate it when I try to do masculine things and they’d rather I just go away. People don’t want me to exist. That’s why I hide away in my cave. It’s better that way. I’m happier and they’re happier.”

“So what if they fix my face. They can’t fix the rest of me. I’m never going to be right. And the worst thing is… I wouldn’t know what to do if they could. I don’t know how to be anything else. I don’t know how to talk to people and have normal relationships. I’m almost 30 years old and I’ve never had a serious relationship, I don’t have friends, I’ve never been out of this city and I probably never will. Taking the scars off my face will only prove it’s me, I’m the problem, and it’s not my face or my body or other people being assholes. It’s me.”

I have to stop talking now, because my throat is too tight. There’s a sob in there trying to get out and I refuse, I refuse to cry in front of him. So my throat is closing up and I can hardly breathe through it and I have to close my eyes tight and bend over and put my hands on either side of my face and hold myself very still. 

“Brienne.”

He’s very close now, he’s come up in front of me kneeling next to my stupid knobby knees and it makes it worse. I’m shaking from the effort of it, holding the tears in. My eyes are starting to leak and there’s nothing I can do about that but I can stop myself from bawling like a baby, damn it, I refuse.

“I like who you are. Brienne?” He puts a hand on my knee. “Who you are is wonderful. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

No. That couldn’t possibly be true.

It gets out. A sob tears out of me. It’s violently, embarrassingly loud and a gush of tears follow it. 

I fold myself over in half and put my arms over my face and around my knees so that I’m completely hidden, and I just cry and cry. 

It’s horrible. Fuck, I hate crying. 

Then the strangest thing happens. Jaime somehow… unfolds me until I fall forward against him. My face is pressed into his shoulder. He has both arms around me and he’s just kneeling there on the floor and somehow I don’t knock him over and he doesn’t struggle with me even though he’s smaller than me. He’s solid. He’s got me. And he just holds me and I cry and my whole body shakes with it.

Eventually it stops. I don’t run out of tears - they’re still in there, I can feel them, but I’m too worn out to cry anymore. I’m raw and exhausted and he’s still holding me against his shoulder. We stay that way for a long while.

He smells so good.

[springday-aus]

Enemies to Lovers!AU with Doyoung

moodboard link 

Group: NCT 

Member: Kim Doyoung 

Genre: fluff, romance 

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: 1.8k

okay so Doyoung is the mom friend of the lil high school!Dreamies

he’s got these mama bear instincts whenever he’s around them 

all he wants to do is protect them because the world is awful 

except for Donghyuk 

Doyoung thinks Donghyuk can protect himself 

I’m kidding……. not really though 

anyways 

he’s always making sure they’re always hydrated and eating all their meals 

if they weren’t, he would make sure they got their reusable bottles filled or treat them out 

sometimes he’ll just make large ass portions of food and give them some 

Chenle and Jisung literally exploit this down to the core 

Doyoung did catch on…... and nagged them……… 

……… only to keep feeding them later on lol

speaking of nagging 

jeSUS 

Jaemin: “my ears are getting closer to bleeding because of Doyoung” 

Jeno: “he lectures me more than my actual mom”

Jaemin: “………….that sounds about right”

and like the dreamies…. they make these jokes all the time, but like…. 

at the end of the day….. everyone knows that it’s Doyoung’s way of showing that he cares 

so, where do you fit in? 

well, with the mom friend, there’s the dad friend 

that’s you 

you’re the whole package, from the dad jokes to the barbeque skills 

you care for the dreamies just as much as Doyoung 

like giving them relationship advice or spending some free time with them so they get to relax from school and life stuff 

since you aren’t with them as much, you even give them some money from time to time if they need it 

it’s like a cute little family 

but….. there’s a catch………. 

despite being the mom friend and the dad friend……. y’all do NOT get along 

it’s almost like y’all got a bad divorce 

Renjun: “I feel like I’m being asked which of my parents I like better”

Jisung: “how are we even supposed to respond to that?” 

Renjun: “I suddenly don’t speak Korean”

Jaemin: “tHAT’S NOT FAIR” 

anyways

one time y’all got dinner together as a whole group and…. 

yIKES 

let’s just say there was an argument…… 

in front of the kiddos……. and the restuarant….... 

and it was NA S TY 

like y’all were real close to throwing some hands 

no one dares to bring it up to this day nor does anyone try to plan another full fam outing…… 

Jeno: “we’re not involved, but we’re involved”

Chenle: “hmmmm, we love tea” 

anyways 

even though all of nct know what’s up……

(because Doyoung doesn’t ever stop to complain about you—cue side eye from literally everyone) 

it didn’t stop them from planning a whole group vacation

and I mean WHOLE group so that means... 

with you

because the dreamies begged Doyoung…….. 

when Doyoung asked you to come, you really stretched it 

You: “sorry, what was that??? you??? need??? me???”

Doyoung, with gritted teeth: do it for the kids, do it for the kids

basically, Johnny and Jaehyun have lake houses near the shore and for spring break, y’all went together 

and they thought it’d be fun to have everyone there

could you imagine a space that’d fit all of these boys like……. jesus christ 

anywho—lakehouse, plus ot…. (god knows how many members there are now) 

let��s just say like 20 of them 

so, when you and Doyoung first arrive, y’all just kind of ignored each other…. 

because like no one wants to get between y’all 

but like, as time went by, the small things started to build-up 

like Doyoung’s side comment on your outfit….. 

and your comment on his food…….

oof 

Lucas: “how much did I miss???” 

Taeyong: “you have no clue dude” 

so everyone just let it happen 

however…. some of the dreamies thought of this as an opportunity 

by dreamies, you know I mean Donghyuk, Chenle, and Jisung…. 

basically, the troublemaker line 

so, you all planned to go kayaking on the lake right 

obviously, Doyoung planned it because the dreamies wanted to try it  and they were like

“LET’S INVITE DAD” 

Doyoung: “............................. I guess” 

so y’all head out and it’s fun 

like y’all have actual fun as a group 

even though you and Doyoung are in the same kayak…… lowkey ignoring each others presence 

……….. until Donghyuk decides to come out of nowhere…… 

and fucking takes your ores 

and with pleasure—he’s literally laughing when he sees your faces 

Jisung: “WORK OUT YOUR PROBLEMS YOU ARE ADULTS” 

Chenle: “DON’T BOTHER CALLING UNTIL YOU TWO ARE MARRIED AGAIN” 

**cue them quickly trying to row away in order to avoid you and Doyoung’s wrath**

so what happens? 

almost nothing for like 30 minutes 

but then Doyoung speaks up 

Doyoung: “we can just pretend we like each other until we get to shore” 

You: “that’s an idea that would have been nice about 20 minutes ago” 

he just loses his temper with you and explodes

Doyoung: “literally, why are you so rude to me?” 

can you believe the fucking audacity??? 

Doyoung’s literally been so rude to you since like week one and you could not figure out why

he’s always giving you nasty looks and it rubs you the wrong way 

meanwhile, Doyoung can’t understand what your deal is with him 

like you’ve been shutting him out since y’all met 

both of you understand that y’all are only rude to each other……. because the other person’s rude……. 

right???? 

You: “I should be asking that—why are YOU so rude to ME??” 

Doyoung: “what are you talking about? you clearly started this whole fiasco” 

You: “eXCUSE ME??? you literally look down on me all the time and I don’t understand why—did I do something to offend you?”

Doyoung: “....... I just thought…….. you…. had a problem…. with me……”

You: “.... I thought you had a problem with me…..” 

…... well…. things have officially become awkward 

so nct did find out what the lil troublemaker line was up to and came to get y’all 

but like….. it was weird…. 

because y’all looked embarrassed as hell about the whole situation 

later that night, after everyone went to sleep 

you were out on the shore, looking at the beach with a lil fire you made and a glass of beer 

Doyoung comes out as well and he spots you 

so he heads over to you with a glass of wine in hand and sits next to you 

not super close to you, but close enough for you to notice 

Doyoung: “you might want to head in, you could catch a cold” 

You: “if that’s the case, why are you out here?”

Doyoung: “..... valid point” 

y’all just kind of sit there in silence, looking out at the waves…. it’s nice 

it’s kind of the first official time y’all are not fighting 

even in the dark, you can see he’s got handsome features

with the anger subsided…… you can see he’s got a good face 

it’s okay though, he’s just noticing how cute you are too

eventually, he speaks up: “I’m sorry for the way I treated you before... I just thought you were rude to me so” 

you didn’t think he’d say anything about the whole misunderstanding

You: “don’t be, it was my fault too for assuming, I’m sorry too” 

tsk, tsk, common miscommunication 

anyways, after that moment, you two were slowly making up for the bad times on the rest of the trip 

y’all are kind of in your own little bubble, 

whereas, everyone’s just confused 

Jaemin: “are we in an alternate universe?” 

Jeno: “maybe bc one of their plans actually worked” 

Chenle: “this is why you should listen to us more” 

Jisung: “we come up with the best plans” 

Renjun: “no” 

meanwhile

Mark: “I’m confused, do they like…. not hate each other?” 

Donghyuk: “Mark, can you please keep up with the program?” 

this even continues when y’all get back

the dreamies like to call this “the process of re-marrying” 

because lowkey y’all end up lowkey dating 

eventually, y’all do go out without the dreamies and it’s….. nice bc it’s kind of an official date 

first, it was all casual like lunch 

or brunch bc there was a coupon date deal and Doyoung wanted to use it 

then y’all moved to dinner…. and then movies….. and other dates like when the fair came to town, shopping dates, or browsing through IKEA 

you swore that you needed to get a new desk chair and y’all literally left with nothing LMAO

okay but like the dreamies rights? 

they def followed y’all on some of the dates 

the whole hoodies, fake mustaches, holding up the menus shit 

Doyoung: “should we tell them we’ve seen them since the bus stop?” 

You: “nah, they’ve been following us for a while, they might as well stay to get something to eat” 

Jaemin: “WE’VE NEVER BEEN CAUGHT LOOK AT HOW SLICK WE ARE” 

Doyoung: *pays for their meals*

Donghyuk: “I can’t believe I got roped into this shit” 

anywho 

dating Doyoung feels like having a housewife 

he’s constantly making sure you’re eating six meals a day 

(because he read online that it’s better for your metabolism) 

which is without the snack breaks 

…….. which Doyoung also preps for you……… 

and the dreamies of course

he’s got like EVERYTHING in his bag because ANYTHING could happen 

also he’s gonna do that thing where he checks to make sure you got everything 

imagine him with a little satchel and you literally have everything in your clothes with deep ass pockets 

Doyoung: “where’s the medicine?? where’s the tissues???” 

You: “babe, I only need my keys and my wallet” 

anyways 

he’s always gonna give you a kiss on the cheek before you go 

there’s the full parent dynamic in the works 

and even though the dreamies are glad “the parents” have made up 

they do that thing where they scream when y’all kiss, or show just general affection in front of them 

Chenle: “JISUNG IS STILL TOO YOUNG TO SEE THIS MONSTROSITY” 

Jeno: *covering Jisung’s eyes* “you’re the role models here, what type of example are you setting for us” 

Renjun: “happy for you, but ew” 

Doyoung: “I want new kids” 

anyways lots of warm hugs from Doyoung 

like full-on hugs—he doesn’t give half-ass hugs

(unless it’s to Donghyuk……… joking) 

that also means cuddling sessions for days 

You: “I need to pee” 

Doyoung: “................ just two more minutes” 

the mom in him is like super supportive 

like I’m talking ALL the banners and the pompoms 

also cheers with your name 

god he’s so embarrassing but you love him 

bro I’ll bet good money that he gonna start nagging you too 

but you know he means well 

cause even though he’s telling you to stop playing in the rain with the dreamies, nagging you about your procrastination on your work, or complaining about the messes you make 

you best believe that he’s gonna make you soup when you get sick, help you with your work, and help you clean up 

Doyoung: *telling you about how you need to dry your hair immediately after to prevent colds and headaches from occurring* 

also as he’s nagging, he’s got a towel and a hairdryer in his hands 

You: **heart eyes** “I love you” 

Doyoung: “you better, I’m not working this hard for you to die early” 

You: “jusT LOVE ME BACK” 

Doyoung: “so needy, I love you too idiot”