#only large company I usually buy pride from is converse

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.32}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Half an hour after dinner had been over with, Robin made her way to the foot of the astronomy tower with Cas, Melissa and Lisa in tow. The latter hadn't been part of the original plan, but due to circumstance Robin had spontaneously decided that six eyes might yet see more than four. Thus the three younger girls were babbling excitedly all along the way now, each wrapped into their warmest robes upon Robin's insistent command, and they did not falter to chat even as Robin wordlessly unlocked the door that led to the tower's staircase. 

It was sealed with the same spell as all the other classrooms, and once again she wondered why none of the students had figured out the spell to unlock either just yet… But then again, perhaps it was one of those spells that couldn't be discovered without the permission to have such knowledge in the first place. The castle seemed to have a sentience in that regard, that much Robin could tell from just her limited experience with ancient magic. That however was a topic for another day, and Robin went on to usher her company up the stairs ahead of her now, or else they would never arrive on top of the tower before Morgan was prone to leave. Otherwise, things were all set by now, at long last and after a whole lot of unwanted social interactions.

In the past thirty minutes, Robin had gone on to make another minor change to her plans. Instead of having Snape write them a note to have them stay out past curfew, Robin had simply sought out the professor who was on patrol duty that night and let him know –in her usual intimidatingly neutral manner– that the girls were to be excluded from curfew, and were very well supposed to be up in the astronomy tower on their own for the next few hours. Unsurprisingly, the man had simply taken Robin's word for it, and nodded his understanding and compliance without questioning her non-existent authority in this matter. Nobody questioned her these days; it was as if an unspoken rule had made rounds among the staff of Hogwarts that Robin was sheer unimpeachable, and the occasional un-student-like matters she concerned herself with were either to be supported or overlooked.

Really, if Robin had to guess, she would've said that this was entirely Dumbledore's doing. It had to be, because not even Snape's authority stretched far enough to warrant such a universally easy acceptance of any and every of her unusual behaviours. And giving the patrolling professor instructions on who and who not to hold accountable to curfew tonight, without even as much as mentioning Snape or anyone else of actual authority in the conversation, certainly was such a behaviour.

"Are you sure we won't get into trouble for being up here, and staying here past curfew?" Cas asked as if on cue, right when Robin's string of thought came to a momentary conclusion. "I mean… we're technically breaking more than just one rule right now, aren't we?"

"You aren't breaking any rule at all currently, nor will you if you do as I say." She replied with a half smile, almost a little out of breath when they finally reached the top of the stairs. "And you've always wanted to 'do fun things like me', isn't that what you said last week? This right here is something of the very likes of that."

"True. If you say we're good then we're good." Cas sighed, and the usual wide smile spread on her face as she skipped ahead to the large window that overlooked the landscape beyond the school. It really was a marvelous sight one had from up here… but Robin had no time to dwell on it.

In as few words as possible, she explained to the girls that – supposedly because of her challenge with the boys – she needed to be alerted when Morgan left the castle, as well as when he returned here. To Robin's surprise, all three girls seemed beyond eager to help her with this endeavour, and they agreed to let her know of Morgan's movements as soon as they could. Content with that, Robin left them to themselves and the night as she made her way back down the tower, and further down into the dungeons. Should Cas and her friends do the waiting and watching up there… Robin was only too happy to wait down in the office with Snape instead, where they could let their guards down without anyone getting in the way. She deserved a little break before the inevitable nightmare that was this endeavour with Morgan continued. Before they would have to deal with all those unanswered questions, and the prospect of perhaps inevitable death.

Once Robin let herself into the office as always, she was more than happy to see that Snape was waiting for her already, and he in return wasted no time before locking the doors back up even more meticulously than usual. He obviously hadn't run into Morgan either then… Good. Robin let out a long breath in the knowledge that she could finally relax for the first time in hours. At least for this fleeting moment.

While she went on to make them coffee first of all, Snape explained –upon her insistent request– how exactly he had ensured that Morgan would be leaving the castle tonight. In the end, it had been a simple work of manipulation and deceit to him, and Robin was in awe as ever at both the sheer brilliance and power that came so naturally to Snape it would never cease to impress her. Especially since he had done the exact same thing she had, but around way more edges and corners. To think that he so easily could get anything he wanted… it made her skin tingle, and her mind take incessant pride in the fact that he still had chosen her to be his equal. The shivers of delight that rolled over her upon the thought were a sweet torture, but a distraction from the topic at hand. She placed his coffee in front of him, then sat down across from him in her usual seat and listened on.

First of all, Snape had convinced McGonagall, through saying and not saying the right things at the right time, that there recently had been severe tensions between the teaching staff that were having a negative impact on the students. That much was only too true, after all. Of course his scarce words to the woman had been a mere complaint about the facts, not a notice or suggestion for improvement, but he had precisely known how they would be understood and acted upon nonetheless. McGonagall, good-hearted as she was, had of course sought to take immediate action by herself, seeing as Snape had as always shown absolutely no interest in the issue. And as predicted, there had been only one person the deputy headmistress would be going to in such a situation that was far below the headmaster's reach of interests; McGonagall had gone to Professor Sprout. And Sprout, as talented as she was with her plants, had one of the most unguarded and manipulable minds of all the professors. Therefore she had been the easiest target for Snape's long line of manipulation in return. All it had taken was a few hints strategically dropped into the woman's mind, and she had suggested an evening in Hogsmeade for the staff who wasn't needed in the castle tonight. McGonagall had trusted her colleague's Hufflepuff intuition when it came to groups of people, and thereby it had been settled. The majority of the staff had the night off to go to Hogsmeade. Lastly then, all it had taken was for Snape to see to it that Sprout pitied Morgan enough for his black eye to offer to buy the man a drink, to ensure that Morgan really would be coming along. That's how Damion Morgan had been tricked into going on a colleagues' night out, without being any wiser of the long line that had led up to this point. Brilliant, really.

"And how did you get out of it?" Robin asked with a partially humoured, partially admiring smile, then emptied the last of her coffee and set the mug down on the table between them. "Out of coming along, I mean."

"I did not have to get out of anything." He replied easily, while leaning back in his chair across from her with a not-smirk. "Because I wasn't asked to come along in the first place."

Robin's brows furrowed into an incredulous frown in an instant, while the subtle humour that was currently painted on his face was entirely absent from hers. "What do you mean? I thought you didn't have any official duties tonight… you shouldn't be needed at school."

"True, but I believe my colleagues were well able to anticipate my answer to such an invitation, and therefore simply spared themselves the vanity of asking."

"Well, they should have asked nonetheless. I very well remember what it's like to be left out of everything all the time, it sucks no matter if you actually would've wanted to go or not."

"Would you have wanted me to go, if it hadn't been for the ordeal with Morgan?" He quirked an eyebrow at her in question, even though he already seemed to know the answer she would give. He was merely making a point with this question. Robin let out a sigh.

"I would have wanted for you to have a choice." She finally replied, then leaned as far across the table as she had to in order to catch his hand and hold onto it. If he was making a point, so could she. "I would never choose to spend the evening without you if it can be helped, you know that. Of course I wouldn't want you to go anywhere I can't follow. But I'm not selfish enough to put my own happiness over yours."

In a heartbeat the small table between them vanished, the very table Robin had been leaning her entire weight upon for the last minute, and she let out a quiet yelp when she fell forward until the hard wood's support was replaced by Snape's arms that pulled her up and closer. An instant later she was seated in his lap, straddling his legs while her heartbeat exploded in a sudden intensity and a wild rush of adrenaline carried both waves of tingles and desire through her body. How did he keep doing that?! How did he unravel her so softly?

Still, she met his expression of well hidden amusement with an obviously feigned glare. That much was almost tradition by now, for moments like this happened a lot lately; he always found a reason or opportunity to pull her into his lap when they weren't working, or to trap her against a shelf or bookcase when they were, and it was positively driving her insane. In the best ways possible, the most allconsuming ones. And while he had never openly admitted it, Robin knew that he craved their affections just as much as she did, and needed them perhaps even more. It was a thought to marvel at, really… such a powerful being, so entirely at the mercy of her love.

"You are getting lost again, and I am curious to know what could be so fascinating to think about that it surpasses the current predicament." He said so softly only and yet succeeded to draw Robin out of her mind in an instant. Or perhaps it was his fingers that traced along her back, caressing the sliver of bare skin right beneath the hem of her jumper. The former brought a smile to her lips, the latter a line of goosebumps to cover her skin.

In a haze of her own thoughts as well as the liquid warmth spreading through her veins in that moment, Robin took a leap of faith and tried something she had always been careful to avoid before. She reached out to his mind for once, in the same gentle request for entrance that she usually was subject to herself. The humour faded off Snape's face in an instant, and his eyes widened oh so slightly while yet never parting from her own. Another shiver overtook Robin, leaving even more goosebumps in its wake. She couldn't help holding her breath.

But then, eternities and broken seconds later, the barriers fell, and she found herself surrounded by an overwhelming mixture of emotions. A mind as complex as to truly do him justice, a chaos that yet seemed as perfect to Robin as anything in existence and beyond could ever be. His thoughts were as graspable to her as her very own, everything in his mind was, and to experience that was absolutely breathtaking. Bloody hell… his emotions were a mess. Her own however, the ones she chose to share with him right then, were as simple as love and gratitude. His response to that, the frenzied rush of both relief and adoration she felt immediately in his mind, and the joy this entire process sparked within her brought a radiant smile to her lips in an instant.

'You let me in…' She phrased in words like he had earlier that evening, careful not to squeal in her excitement nor let all too much astonishment shine through. The slightest tug on the corner of his lips told her that this was only a partial success.

'I did.' He answered in thought out words in return, a gesture that was accompanied by a hint of humour, a dash of pride, and still a lot of nervousness. Really, Robin had known that he was way more afraid of certain matters than he let on on the outside, but seeing it so clearly laid out in front of her still brought over her a rush of fierce protectiveness.

'You don't have to let me do this, you know that, right?' She couldn't help asking out of concern though, glad that she didn't have to rely on the tone of her voice to convey precisely what she meant. She would still love him no less if he had his boundaries, if he didn't give her everything she ever asked for. Sharing all that as emotions was far easier than with words. And it allowed for a far more elaborate answer in return.

The nervousness now entirely at ban, Robin found herself dropped amidst an ocean in his mind, an unfathomable depth where she was hit by a multitude of emotions with the crushing force of mountainous waves. A force that took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes at the same time. Yes, he certainly knew both depth and maddening passion to keep up with her very own by far. And in the very same, his reply to her question washed over her and dragged her under.

He would give anything to her, anything and everything, over and over and over again. Not because he had to, but because it was part of the way he loved. Part of the ocean. The way he loved her, an unfathomable depth, a force impossible to resist. Devotion that was a perfect mirror of her own.

For a moment Robin's head was spinning with sheer overwhelm, until she remembered faintly that she had to share her thoughts with him this time. Intentionally, purposefully. Yet, the first thing she tried to convey ended up a jumbled mess of both 'I love you' and 'You are everything' in a string of arbitrary repetitions, that however still served to bring a smile to his face. Then she shared her feeling of overwhelm, but also the deepest adoration of all she had seen, and surprisingly enough was met with a rush of self-consciousness in his mind in return. She found that beyond endearing, but decided better not to show him that in return, only to take delight in it herself. An instant later, he thought that she should stop smirking already, and that made Robin laugh both on the inside and the outside. Something in his mind relaxed, while something else roared up in joy and pride upon having made her laugh. Again, Robin could only marvel at how his mind responded to absolutely everything she did in such a breathtaking way.

'Does it also feel this intoxicatingly pleasurable and yet entirely calming when you let me into your mind?' He asked after a moment, in distinct words once more that Robin now discovered were far easier to decipher than the emotions and ordinary thoughts.

'Obviously.' She thought, but the accompanying smirk came onto her lips for real nonetheless. 'Has no one ever been in your mind before?'

'People have tried, but of course never nearly succeed. The attempts however were always quite painful, actually.'

'It's only painful if you try to keep someone out. The more you accept them into your mind, the better it feels to have them there. But I assume it's also about the connection you have to that person, how close your minds are and how much you trust them.'

'How do you know that so well?'

'Seven years of experience and practice with you.' The smirk on Robin's lips turned into a grin as she showed him brief flashbacks of the countless examples of how the feeling of having him in her mind had changed over time. She saw curiosity and a hint of awe in his own thoughts in return, as well as the uproaring desire to kiss her breathless even though they were still in the office.

Curiosity was precisely what struck Robin then as well, an ineffable desire to discover more about the ways and possibilities of this mental connection, and she found herself unable to resist both this temptation and the unintentional invitation his mind was almost shouting at her now. Therefore, she gave in to either. Leaning in through the distance between them that was minimal in the first place, she touched her lips to his only lightly for now, and yet the result was no less explosive than being dropped into his ocean in the first place. With a tiny gasp she pulled back again, and immediately felt his confusion alongside a little spark of fear.

"That was… indescribable." She breathed with real words of sincere astonishment for once, while yet the thoughts she showed to him were full of reassurance. The negative emotions in his mind became replaced by curiosity and even a little amusement in an instant, and she was immediately pleased with that. Was her own mind quite that responsive as well?

"Would you kindly elaborate?" He quirked an eyebrow at her with an almost straight face, and Robin had to snicker at the echo loop of amusement that followed between them.

"Have you ever tried looking into my mind while kissing me?" She asked, after deciding that they might as well use actual words for now, since she was the one doing the explaining anyway.

"I have not, seeing as I was rather distracted at those moments. I had better things to do than thinking about advanced magic." He rolled his eyes while he answered, but Robin could for once undoubtedly tell that the gesture was directed at himself. Indeed, he was minorly irked by the fact that he himself had never before had the idea to try just what she was suggesting now. Again, Robin found his thought both endearing and relatable.

"Do you think you can look into my mind while I'm inside yours? I still haven't understood that part of the thing we're doing here, if it's a two way street or not." She gave him an encouraging smile, and was met by a really fast string of thoughts and contemplations in return as he tried to give any other answer than that he didn't know either. Funnily enough, his lack of an answer didn't seem to embarrass him in the slightest, not in front of her at least, but only to encourage him to do better and be of help to her in finding an answer together. Oh, Robin loved that beyond measure, and she decided to share the resulting wave of adoration with him in return. It brought his mind to an immediate halt, as if he had forgotten that she could see his every thought in the first place.

"Perhaps we can just try?" She suggested calmly, curiously. "If it doesn't work, we can still look for other options."

Agreement. He didn't need to speak for her to understand that much. A second later, the comfort of his presence was again inside her mind, and for two breathtaking seconds they really closed the circle of their shared thoughts and emotions. A firework of feelings, doubled in every prevalent intensity, a heightening of all their senses. Indescribable indeed. Then however Robin felt her grasp on the spell quivering, faltering, and finally vanishing entirely, with the result that she was abruptly thrown out of Snape's mind completely. At least she could still feel his presence inside her own, or she would have pouted in sheer disappointment. Not that he would have needed the gesture now, the mere thought inside her mind sufficed to make him smirk. Right… beautiful mind, but still an insufferable idiot.

"I can hear your thoughts again, you do realize that, yes?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, and now it was Robin's turn to grin.

"Yes, I'm well aware." She chuckled, then finally moved her hands from his shoulders to caress the skin on his neck beneath the soft curtains of hair. Too bad she couldn't hear his reaction to that anymore. "Any idea why I got kicked out of your mind? And don't say I just messed up, because we both know better than that."

"I believe it might be more difficult to uphold the former connection once the latter is established. Seeing as I am more practiced in the art, perhaps we should try again now that I am in your head first." He suggested easily, and Robin inwardly rolled her eyes, while however she obviously had to admit that he of course was way more practiced in it indeed. Really, he was better at mostly everything if she was being honest now, but she regretted that thought immediately when she saw the smirk tugging on his lips. "I do feel rather flattered, while yet I am inclined to disagree."

"And why is that?"

"Didn't you want to return into my mind anyway? I would hate having to praise you out loud." He quipped, and Robin tugged on a strand of his hair in return, which earned her a small glare. Yet, she only smirked at Snape and took a deep breath before trying and being allowed into his mind once more.

Again, the fireworks and heightened senses overtook them both body and mind, but while still difficult to uphold, the connection this time lingered on. The subtle touches on her back, his fingers tracing her skin, as intense and real as her hands on him, the same feeling, the overwhelming exciting comfort. Only now it all seemed doubled, different, part of a shared existence. And still he wanted her to know his answer to what she had asked, what he would always answer in any way. Robin saw precisely what he had said once before, the utmost belief that she was so much better than him in every way. Her mind replied with instant adoration and sincerest doubt, not of him but of herself. She wasn't perfect. He knew. She wasn't perfect, but everything he wanted in the world and still far more.

Robin's immediate reaction was a roaring wave of love that echoed straight back to her once it reached his mind and was met with its equal, while the thought of how much she adored that he could be so accidentally romantic at times was met with a huff and a growl. She couldn't help but chuckle at how subtly, secretly her thought pleased him nonetheless.

'Are you going to kiss me now or do I have to woo you any longer?' He suddenly thought in actual words, but this time around she could hear his voice inside her mind in its near natural depth, every colour and faintest subtone it always had. All the times before, without the circle closing in their minds, it had never been so real, so close. This was new for either of them.

For half a moment Robin laughed at his words and marveled at the sensation, then she smiled, and finally leaned forward until their lips touched in a crescendo of emotions. Indescribable indeed. Addictive, as always, and they found themselves unable and unwilling to stop. Time stood still in perfection like this, just holding each other close while their lips danced to the music of their passion. This was how the world ended, this was how it was reborn.

And this was why they avoided losing themselves in the office, for three feeble knocks on the door startled them both so suddenly that their surprise toppled over inside their shared mindspace. Gasping they pulled back from each other in an instant, while the joining of their minds quivered so strongly that a second later it disappeared altogether. Only then when Robin was alone in her mind once more, she realized how difficult it had been to uphold the connection in the first place, and she almost gasped again at the slightly sore feeling somewhere in her mind. Like an unpracticed muscle, almost, that had suddenly gotten a lot of exercise. Going by the look on Snape's face, he seemed to be experiencing something similar in that moment, and that made Robin smile in contentment. At least they knew now that it wasn't quite a normal mode of legilimency. But it certainly was something to experiment with.

When three slightly louder knocks echoed from the wooden door through the entire office then, Snape immediately rose up from his chair while pulling Robin along and setting her down on her feet in front of him. For a brief moment his mind reached out to her again almost instinctively, sharing a rush of awe that he felt when he looked down at her, taking in her lush lips, stained red from his kisses, the lovely flush on her cheeks and the breathtaking display of lightness and darkness in her eyes. To him she was an emblem of life and passion like this, and Robin inevitably had to smile. He really was accidentally romantic sometimes, or rather his honest sentiments were, while his actions on that basis were usually everything but. For the majority of people it was the other way around, and she couldn't help marveling at that. Perhaps romantic was the wrong word for it after all… he simply was being himself in a way she found absolutely perfect. A beautiful mind on the inside, an insufferable idiot on the outside. Ambivalent and yet oddly fitting as ever. That thought earned her another mostly feigned growl and glare, as well as a subtle hint of pride and amusement he still chose to share with her. Then he finally went to answer the door, and his presence left her mind when he put up his usual public facades.

Robin had exactly three seconds to take a deep breath, to force her appearance back into a normal state with the help of a little charm she cast over both of them for good measure, and finally to return the small table back to where it belonged. Then reality and the events of the day caught up with her, and she sighed at the realization that of course they still had to deal with the Morgan situation, still had to be more than careful and double-check every single step they took. As far as she could tell, Snape seemed to do just that when he opened the door just a gap and with his wand at the ready.

"I, uh, I'm sorry to-, uh… but Robin said…" Unlike what Robin had been expecting, it was Lisa's voice she heard on the other side of the door. The girl's small frame however stayed hidden behind both the door and Snape, even as Robin approached them with a frown. "Robin said that we, I mean I… could find her here?"

There were no words spoken in reply, but instead Robin could feel a hint of warmth, an imprint of Snape's magic barely brushing over her senses in a way she had never noticed before. How odd… Whatever spells he had used, they hadn't been directed at her and yet she had been able to feel his magic, even if only just barely. She didn't get to dwell on how that came to be when he opened the door entirely a few seconds later, motioning for Lisa to get into the office already with a scowl plastered onto his face as always. While the girl complied immediately, Robin made the educated guess that Snape's spells had been a row of security screenings that Lisa however seemed to have taken no notice of. No surprise, his magic was as brilliantly subtle as it was strikingly effective. Perhaps the fact that she could feel it now was a side effect of their previous joining of minds.

"Hey Robin." Lisa's features relaxed the moment her eyes fell onto Robin, who had now taken a perch on the edge of the table. Three steps later, the younger girl came to stand in front of her with a weary expression on her face as she kept glancing over to Snape who had closed the door and was now mirroring Robin's position on the edge of his own desk. Lisa's eyes kept darting between the two of them nervously. "I, uh…"

"We don't have all day, Miss McLain." Snape taunted after a moment of silence, looking both indifferent and annoyed as ever, and Robin gave him a glare before focusing on the girl in front of her.

"I must say I was expecting Cas to come find me herself, but it's alright either way." She started, upon which Lisa seemed to somewhat relax again.

"Yeah, well, Cas did the… spotting, and she said she'd set up the entire thing in the first place, so it was Melissa or I who had to go and well, I was cold anyway and also didn't really mind since it all was so important to you and so, here I am now." The girl rambled, and Robin felt tempted to roll her eyes, not at her but at Cas. Typical as ever, letting others do the work she had no interest in.

"But he did leave now, yes?" Robin still asked to make sure, and Lisa only nodded in return, glancing over at Snape who listened attentively as ever while looking just as bored on the outside. Right… Lisa didn't know that Snape knew of this endeavour, and breaking into a professor's classroom usually wasn't something one wanted the other professors to know about. It didn't matter now, not really.

"We, uh…" Lisa spoke up again at last, focusing back on Robin. "We'll keep watch and let you know if he comes back. Or just… wait until you come and get us, whichever happens first."

"Thank you." Robin gave the girl a half smile, then stood up straight and accompanied her back to the door. "Enjoy the stars for me, yes?"

After giving a court little nod and a shy smile, Lisa scurried back out into the hallway and vanished in the darkness to the right, upon which Robin closed the door again with a sigh. Morgan was gone. And that meant they had to get going.

"If I'm not entirely mistaken, sending someone else was a very Cassandra thing to do." Snape commented after a few seconds of silence, and Robin just had to snort in return.

"Are you still peeking into my mind? Because I was having much the same thought." She replied in subtle amusement, then watched as he got up from the desk and approached her instead. Before she could help it, a smile came to her lips. "I could feel your magic, you know… The screening spells, or rather what I think were screening spells. But I could feel it as unmistakably you."

"Curious…" He mused, while they stepped out into the hallway together. Before locking the office back up however, he halted and motioned for Robin to do it instead. "Would you mind? I'd like to know if I can sense yours as well."

With a huff in both humour and curiosity she did as he suggested, first locking and then warding the door, before looking back up at Snape with her eyebrows raised in question. "And? Feel anything?"

"You. Unmistakably you, precisely as you said." He answered just as they started making their way through the dark hallways. "And yet, had I not seen what you were doing, I wouldn't have known what kind of spells you were using."

"Exactly. I think it might be an aftereffect of what we did before we were interrupted… you know, of connecting our minds like that. Or at least I have never been able to feel anyone else's magic like this before."

"Neither have I." Snape's tone was thoughtful, but Robin could tell that he was no less intrigued by this than she was. After a moment of walking in silence, he finally spoke on with a not-smirk on his lips. "We should continue practicing that connection. I'm curious to discover how far we can go, and what it is capable of."

"And it felt pretty amazing." Robin added with a smirk of her own, glancing up at him to see the sentiment perfectly mirrored in his face.

"Indeed."

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Not Delulu (1)

Summary: You always hated women who dated kpop idols and are so glad that your ultimate bias, Kim Namjoon, has never disappointed you by being involved in such a scandal. You swear you’re not a delusional fan who doesn’t want him to be happy. You truly just want what’s best for him.

                 Apparently, He just wants whats best for you, too <3.

3,197 words

Chapter warning tags: mild invasion of privacy?

 Part One

Fingering through wistful fabrications of reality is my favourite hobby. Who knew time travelling was so easy? With a simple turn of a page, - something that takes mere nanoseconds - I can transcend dimensions and look into the past while reading the lines of a page. The only problem with reading books is that when you travel through time and space, your body is still in the present, operating on some badly programmed autopilot mode. As your eyes scan the books, other body parts mindless wander if you do not pay attention. Hence, you shouldn’t read as you walk.

However, as you walk through the aisle in this nook of your local bookstore, busily scanning the shelves for a particular new stock, you realise that not everyone had gotten this memo of the faulty autopilot mode.

A hard, large object seemed to be hurled at you, making you stumble to the floor. Your shoulder took most of the impact of the collision, but there was no other damage done. Your fall was broken by the shelves you grabbed onto during your descent.

“Wh-What,” a raspy voice from above turns about confused. He must have been the hard, large object. His oversized, grey hoodie is low on his head. His white hair conceals his face even more.

A book is opened in his hand. The same exact book that you were dying to get your ,hands on. You try to grab onto the floor to get up and that is when this tall figure looming over you finally notices your presence. “Oh!…” He grabs onto your forearm to help you up and you allow him to.

Somehow, he lost his footing, so when you brace yourself on him, he ends up falling too. The book he already had, the few in his other hand, and an entire row on the shelf he bumped into are now on the ground.

“Shit!,” you exclaim. “I’m so sorry.” You frantically begin picking up the books. You really didn’t have time for this. Your shift will soon start. You were only supposed to be in here for a few minutes, but not only did you spend about 10 minutes looking into the tiny store for the title, but now you’ve made a mess.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I lost my footing,” he admits shyly, but obviously upset.

His voice…It can’t be…

“I was the reason you fell in the first place.” He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as he picks up the books quickly, not even bothering to organise them. “I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” You both simultaneously reach for the final book on the floor, another psychology book. You only knew it was a psychology book because you had that exact title sitting on your desk home. He adds it to the little pile of books he wanted to buy. “I apologise.”

You were sure now. You realise he is the love of your life, your idol, your ultimate bias – Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS. You recognise that low, deep, sultry, raspy, sexy voice from anywhere.

Don’t scream. Don’t get weird. Don’t scream. Don’t get weird.

It must be annoying when people get weird so DON’T get weird.

“I-It’s okay! I don’t blame you… Youuu… were reading Into the Spine by Montgomery.” Shit, why were you stumbling on your words so much? Be normal. “I understand. I’m actually looking for that same book. Just tell me where you got it and its all forgiven.” While you spoke softly, you straightened your work uniform.

“Sure,” he smiles politely. “They’re by the entrance since they’re new.”

“T-T-T-T-T-They are?” Shit, why are you stuttering after realising it was Joonie- Namjoon. It might be weird to be called a nickname by people you don’t know. He’s a celebrity so he might be used to it though… You realise, even with his black face mask on, he was smiling awkwardly at you.

“Yeah. You must have missed them when you came in.” He grabs your arm and it feels as if a lightning bolt hit your body. If you moved or jerked, he hadn’t noticed because he continues to lead you to the table near the entrance where the stacks of copies were.

You blush profusely, but he takes this as you being embarrassed for missing something so obvious. Act normal. “I must have been so excited to just get this book I made a beeline straight to the nonfiction section.” You laugh nervously.

“I don’t blame you,” he mimics the first words you say to him. “Montgomery? Great author. I can’t wait to see what he has to say now about ‘brain power’,” Namjoon laughs. “He might go a bit overboard with his imagination, but he sure knows how to put things into perspective.”

“Yes! Everyone I talk to tell me that he’s a quack and says they don’t understand why I read this word vomit, but this guy is a genius!” You laugh, getting comfortable.

Namjoon just stares at you for a while. He nods. You can feel the conversation ending but didn’t want to let it go.

“Uhh… That book,” you point at the other book in his hand that you recognised earlier. “It’s good. Be prepared for some of the remarks in that one!”

Namjoon follows your eyes to see what you were talking about and throws his head back in laughter when he realizes. “Yes! It was a wild ride from cover to cover. I have my own copy at home, but I am getting this one for a friend.”

“Oh my God! Then, have you read Going into the Lamp? Oh my God, when she drowns her sister! I don’t know why she thought it was a good idea to include that in the book!”

Namjoon just looks at you with his eyes slightly widened. “I… I’m actually reading it now… I didn’t reach that part, yet.”

You accidently spoiled the book for him. “I’m SO sorry. First, I bump into you, and now I’m giving out spoilers you didn’t ask for. Please, forgive me,” you drawl with your head down.

He tuts and you want to crawl into a hole and hide. “What am I going to do with you? You’re so bad… Tell you what, have lunch with me and I’ll forgive you…”

What?!

You snap your head to look at his face and see mischief in his eyes. You decide to play along. “Sigh, I guess that’s the least I can do.” Fuck work. You are not passing up the opportunity to eat with your earthly god.

You pay for your book quickly and meet him by the door.

“Where do you want to eat?” You ask.

“I’m actually not familiar with this area. You tell me what’s good.”

He likes Korean food, meat to be particular. You should know this after watching every interview that includes in about twenty times over. There’s a little restaurant just a few blocks from there that you know he would love. You often had lunch there thinking about how much he would love it.

You spoke about books and theories about them on your way to the restaurant, feet falling into step together, but getting out of sync once in a while due to his long legs.

It was so natural. Sometimes, you forget that he was a normal human being.

The scent as you approach the building has your stomach growling and you do not miss the way his pupils dilate when he smells it too. In there was quiet and not crowded, as usual. It sucks for the owners, but that’s why you love this place. It was often empty. Honestly, if not for their deliveries, they would be out of business. You both go to the counter and order. It takes a while since this was his first time there. Your card is in your hand the entire time he speaks, but when he finishes, he gives them his card.

“Wait! I thought this was me apologizing, that I was buying you lunch.” You hold onto his card to stop the server from taking it. Three people were now grabbing onto it and looking at each other in confusion. You offer your card that was in your next hand and the server looks at Namjoon for permission, as if she wasn’t listening to you. He shakes his head.

“I only wanted company. I planned on eating alone,” you further your argument. “At least let me pay half.”

Someone coughs behind you. There are about two other people waiting their turn, looking angrily at the two of you. He takes the opportunity of you being distracted to give his card to the cashier again.

Because you were holding up the line, you just let him win.

Namjoon grabs a seat in the corner, facing away from the windows and door. He makes sure his hoodie is secure over his head as he huddles into himself. You realise he is doing this to avoid being caught.

Caught!

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He can get in trouble for this! It finally dawns on you that it looks like you’re on a date. Who do you think you are to even sit across his excellence? It would not be fair to the rest of his stans.

But, its not like you’re like other girls. You don’t want him just because he’s cute. No, your bond is much stronger than any other. You would take care of him. Heal him.

You don’t deserve a Namjoon, but he deserves a you.

You worship him.

Imagine the headlines if Dispatch sees this. Finally, everyone will know for good that Namjoon is yours. You wouldn’t mind if the world found out and misinterpreted the scene.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by food being placed in front of you. Namjoon pulls down his mask to his chin, but his face was still obscured by his bangs.

How long were you sitting across from him imagining these crazy things? You say an expletive in your heart and play it off. “Uwaah, no matter how many times I come here, I’m still amazed by the food. I promise you will love it. I’ve been eating here ever since I started working in this area.”

“It looks great.” He takes a tentative bite into the beef. His eyes light up and a sense of pride washes over you. You knew your man. His shoulders move into a little dance absentmindedly.

You’re endeared by his actions so you sit and admire him eating. Namjoon stops when he realizes how quiet you’re being. He coughs to clear his throat. “So…” he ventures embarrassed. “What made you get into Psychological fiction?”

“I always loved reading. I guess I just realized I liked reading these books more. I think Kafka was the pivot that made me go deeper.”

“It’s the same for me actually.” Namjoon went on to explain how he started reading about psychology, which led to a conversation about both of your favourite authors, reads, stores, forums, clubs, etc. The food was long gone but the refill of their beers are full.

You practically scream at the story he tells where a friend of his thought he was reading erotic novellas the entire time. “It was really so embarrassing. We were in public and really said, ‘don’t you read about romance and sex all the time. Tell me what I should do to be more sensitive.’ I wanted to die on the spot.” He slumps further into his seat to express this, but he is smiling brightly looking at you laugh so hard it looked painful.

“Hey, I never got your name,” he points out mid-chuckle. “I don’t think I asked before, but I’m K-“

“Kim Namjoon,” you finish his introduction for him for him. “Sorry, I’m not gonna sit here and act like I didn’t recognize you. I’m army and I know my bias from his voice. Also, I’m ____.” You look up at him worriedly. Its true. You didn’t have it in you to lie by letting him introduce himself.

Namjoon is caught off guard and goes red. “You’re lying about me being your bias I’m sure. You don’t have to do that,” he flusters.

You open a compartment of your phone case revealing his photocard, “I keep it there to look at whenever I feel unmotivated or insignificant. Your words during lives really helped me with my anxiety. I even watch videos of you at the end of concerts to hear what you have to say. It really pumps me up,” you express with your body.

This shocks him visibly. “Don’t look at me like I’m lying. You really helped me a lot when I was trying to study for college entrance exams, and when I failed and found that I didn’t make it to my top, and only, choice. I didn’t apply anywhere else and decided to work part time and follow my dreams, like you sort of did.”

“Either way, I’m glad BTS could have done that for you.”

“Me too. My parents were hella mad, especially since they thought I should have been a doctor or lawyer just because I got good grades in high school. I don’t care too much about what they think, though. Most great people’s parents didn’t approve what they did. I mean, look at Pip from Great Expectations.”

“I don’t think there is one single happy person out there who does what their parents wanted them to,” Namjoon agrees.

“Like in the great words of Aristo-“ you begin, but get cut off by a loud ringing in your pocket. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you whisper as you scramble to answer it.

Embarrassingly enough, it was your boss and you were sure that Namjoon could hear what is being screamed at you even though your phone was not on speaker. He looks at you in wonder as you try to explain to her that you will be coming soon and how you were running late. A particular jab concerning your coworker’s incompetence to handle yours and her own work, especially when you couldn’t handle your own station, has Namjoon railing over in laughter.

“Yes, ma’am. I will be there in a few minutes! I’m sorry ag-“ the dial tone sounds before you can even finish your sentence. Dejected, you could not help the pout as you lift your eyes to take your one last good look at your obsession. “I’m sorry, Joon, I was only supposed to stop to the bookstore for five minutes. I had work after.”

“Do what you have to do.” He looks at you sympathetically. “You’re such a bad girl. This would make you,” he checks his watch beneath his hoodie, “an entire hour late.”

You both get up to clear the table. “Thank you for lunch again.”

“Thank you for coming with me,” he retorts.

You walk outside the store together, but had to walk opposite directions. This is when Namjoon realises that he wont ever see her again. Unless…

He spins around and grabs you wrist. “Um…” He can’t speak with her looking at him like that. “Can I… have your number?”

He spoke so quietly, you wonder if you have heard correctly, or if it was the wind playing tricks on you. His hand is surely on yours, and he is certainly looking at you, but you still are in a rush.

Grabbing a napkin and pen from your pocket, you quickly jot your name and number down. “Hey, you can just put it in my phone.”

You shake your head. “Sorry, I’m in a rush and I do not want to mess this up.” You always make such terrible typos on the regular. You don’t trust yourself to input the correct the number when youre filled with adrenaline. You shove the napkin to his chest which he grabs for. “I’ll talk to you later,” you ask, unsure. Not waiting for his response, you begin to sprint into the direction of your job.

Namjoon stood there staring after you for a few heavy heart beats. You were perfect. From the arch of your brow as you hung onto every word he enunciated to the sloppily tied tennis on your feet that did not shaking once during your conversation.

He holds the number out to admire your handwriting. It was so neat, cute even. He brings the napkin up to his nose to see if he can smell even a little of you on it. Of course, with his mask on, he was not able to smell much of everything. As he pulls it down to appreciate the napkin more, a white van that had passed him rather quickly slammed brakes and was now reversing towards him.

He scanned the area and notices someone just across the street from him filing him with a smartphone.

His identity is well hidden today. So he does not feel threatened by the filming. He is afraid of the man coming out of the van with a huge, high tech camera.

He shoves the napkin he cherished so ardently before in his back pocket and makes a run for it.

Or so he thinks.

The napkin flutters to the ground slowly, heavily contrasting the speed that Namjoon ran away.

Later that evening, he rummages through his clothes. He strips to his boxers, standing in the middle of his apartment with a blank stare. Your number is nowhere to be found. He had no way to speak to you. His last interaction with you will have been his last interaction with you.

Tears fall down his cheeks proudly when he realizes this.

He takes a few deep breaths. This is not over.

You mentioned that you worked in the area. He will just have to go back there and look for you.

You wore a black golf shirt, leggings, vans, a black sports bra (from what he can tell by the print through your top), probably a thong (since there were no pantylines shown as you walked), and…

And…

His erection stood proudly looking up at him.

He let his mind get carried away thinking about you. Trying to focus again, he fights through his memories to figure out which store’s workers wore black shirts with no logos or crests.

Nowhere.

That’s it – nowhere he’s been. Meaning it’s a store he had no purpose for, and judging the direction in which you ran, it had to have been that local shop. Namjoon searched Google maps street view for a few minutes before he finds the only place that can be where you worked.

He smiles proudly. All was not lost.

Fucking creep! Stop following me! Namjoon’s ex’s voice rang through his head.

“Will it be creepy if I show up on her job? She never told me where she worked…” he thinks aloud to himself.

Namjoon opens his phone again, but this time to find your work phone number. He calls the number provided, but since it was 10:34pm, he can assume that the small tailor shop was closed.

Tomorrow.

A/n:

I hope there weren’t too many mistakes! I originally made an outline for this months ago as a joke, but as I wrote it, I realised that it was kinda deep lol. satirical even.

Also, fics are so hard to find on tumblr, but I feel like theyre so good here! I use ao3 to search for authors and follow their tumblr if they have one. I think I’m gonna start cross publishing. 

#knj #bts fic #yandere namjoon #yandere bts #kim namjoon scenario

[alitaimagines]

“I loved your A/B/O fic with Rin!! I was wondering if you could do another one with BNHA? Idc the plot or the character! I really love your angst and when the reader ends up rubbing it in the face of another character so maybe that again?? im so sorry if it’s repetitive!!”

Alpha’s bakugou katsuki, mirio togata x fem! Omega reader

fandom: boku no hero academia / my hero academia 

note / song recommendation: i know I always use bakugou for my shitty characters and i apologize for that but he’s so good to use! / hold up, best thing I never had. - beyonce 

“Well I’m sorry for being such a shitty Alpha!” Bakugou exclaimed sarcastically as the two of you stared daggers at each other. “You know how hard it is for an Alpha to be courting an Omega for the first time!”

You gave off a tired sigh. “It’s not fucking rocket science, you complete dumbass! I know it’s hard! You think it’s easy for an Omega? Especially when their Alpha is basically non existent in the relationship?” You yelled back. “No but I’m tried and I am done with it. I’m done feeling like shit and I deserve to be treated better as an Omega.” 

The entire 1-A dorm watched the two of you argue back and fourth. No one was expecting this argument to happen, especially in the public. Even the top three, Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki, watched the argument go down. They had originally came to the 1-A dorms to ask Midoriya a question but felt uncomfortable to leave during such a heated time.

“I know I’m not perfect but I refuse to feel this worthless as a Omega.” You continued. You turned to Uraraka and she could tell that you were on the brink of angry tears. “I don’t want to lose my pride but I’m gonna fuck me a bitch.” You marched up the stairs of the dorms until you got your dorm. 

You ravaged your dorm for everything Bakugou had ever given you during the time he courted you and put it in a bag. You were able to tell that everyone was still downstairs watching Bakugou as he remained in place, stunned. 

Once they heard you coming back downstairs, they seen a semi large bag in your hand. 

“I know the Omega is supposed to be the ‘submissive’ person in the relationship but look at us now, Bakugou!” You screamed through your now angry tears. 

“I look like the Alpha now! So, you know what? Everything you ever gave me during the time we courted is in this bag. If I find something of yours, I’ll give it to a beta. From now on, don’t look at me, don’t speak to me, don’t even go near me! Because the next time you do, I promise you, I will fuck you up. Trust me, I know this isn’t Omega behavior but when an Omega is tired of being treated like shit, this is what happens! So to all the Alpha’s in the room, don’t be a Bakugou!” You whispered as you looked at Shoji, Kirishima, Todoroki, Iida, Mirio, and a few others. 

The Omega’s in the room were able to feel your heartbreak and your anger. Everyone knew the two of you were courting but they had no idea how bad the relationship actually was. You gave one final look to Bakugou before walking to the elevators. 

“Woah.” Was all Mirio whispered to Tamaki and Nejire. 

She gave him a sharp look that indicated to shut up. “Don’t be insensitive, Mirio. You have no idea what an Omega is going through.” They quickly told Midoriya goodbye before leaving the tension filled 1-A dorms. 

-

You had called yourself out sick for a few days. You claimed that you had a really bad case of the stomach flu so when Recovery Girl checked on you, you were able to fake the symptoms enough to get out of dorms for a few days. 

You had went back home and got yourself together, after you explained the real situation with your parents. Once the few days were coming to a close, you asked your mom, a fellow Omega, to help you get back on your feet before you left. 

She suggested that you pamper yourself and offered to drive you to get your hair done and get a complete makeover. 

It wasn’t that Bakugou didn’t let you dress up or anything but once he courted you, you didn’t realize that you let yourself go. You hardly wore makeup, when you didn’t have to wear a uniform, you were leggings with a sweater or interchanged them with sweatpants and a big t-shirt. 

Once you got back to campus, you came back with a new haircut, freshly colored hair, and a bit of your confidence back. The first person who greeted you was Momo, who was taken back by the sudden change in your style. 

“You look great!” Momo said as you followed her to the kitchen. “It hasn’t been the same since you’ve left.” 

You gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know but you know I couldn’t be around Bakugou. If I had seen him during the time that I was gone, I think he might’ve been dead.” You heard other voices coming down the stairs and seen it was Midoriya, Tsuyu, and Kirishima. “Hey everyone!” 

Tsuyu gave you a wave as the Alpha and Omega stood wide eyed. You gave them a quick wave to face. “Midoriya, Kirishima! Hello!” You exclaimed as you snapped your fingers in their face. “IZUKU, EJIROU!” Once they heard your screamed, they zoned back in. 

“Wow, I thought you had the flu.” Kirishima mocked as he sat in the chair across from you. “I’m just kidding, you look great! I’m assuming you’re coming back to classes now?” 

You nodded as Izuku gave you a big smile. “That’s amazing! How has everything been?” You asked the four people in front of you. They looked at each other as if they were having a silent conversation between themselves. “Uh, everything is good! We’ve been doing the usual routine.” 

They were lying, you could tell but you knew not to push it. “Well, I need to go to my dorm and unpack the few things I brought back. See you guys at dinner?” They all nodded but as you started leaving, you seen Midoriya running towards you. 

“Hey, I need to talk to you really quick!” Midoriya exclaimed. You gave him a look of confusion. “So, you know Mirio right?” You nodded. “Well, he was wondering if you could talk to him about something tomorrow. I don’t know about what but he wants to see you.” 

“Uh yeah, sure. Did he say where?” You asked. “Oh yeah! During lunch! He said it’s important!” You gave Midoriya one more thank you before going to your dorm room. 

-

You woke up in the morning and took a shower before getting dressed and making coffee. Being that you had gotten up early enough, you made a spare cup for whoever you seen first. That person was Kaminari. 

“Denks! Want coffee?” He nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s go to class, I’m sure Aizawa needs to give me all the work I missed and I know I’ve missed a bunch already.” 

He shook his head no. “Not really. We’ve been training most of the week. You’ve missed maybe three assignments?” Kaminari explained. “Great! Second question, do you know why Mirio asked to see me during lunch today?” 

Kaminari knew the reason why but didn’t say why. Kaminari was lucky enough to act dumb and get away with it. “No but I can’t imagine why he’d want to see you. Maybe someone at the company he interns at wants you to become an intern as well?” You shrugged as the two of you walked into the classroom. 

After talking to Aizawa for a while and getting the work you needed, you turned around to see half the class already in their seats. One of them being Bakugou. You snuck a quick glance as you were able to see that he was staring dead at you. Being that you were privileged enough to sit across the room from him, you didn’t bother to look back at him. 

You sat in your seat as Aizawa started the class. For the most part, it went by agonizingly slow and all you wanted to do was get to lunch and figure out why Mirio wanted to see you. 

Once lunch came, you walked to where Midoriya told you to meet Mirio at. You waited for the most part about five minutes until you seen the big three walking down the stairs. You were able to see that Nejire and him were arguing with each other and Tamaki put in his opinion every so often. 

Mirio noticed you standing at the place he asked Midoriya to tell you and immediately his face was plastered in a blush and a huge smile. He waved bye to his friends before running over to you. 

“Hiya, ( your name )!” Mirio’s scent immediately washed over a sense of comfortability over you. “You look different from the last time I seen you!” Mirio muttered as he scratched his neck nervously. 

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I know. I’m sorry you had to witness what you seen a few days ago. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene in front of upperclassmen.” 

Mirio waved you off. “It’s not your problem. An Omega has needs that need to be attended too and I understand that as an Alpha. That’s also what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” Mirio muttered the last part even more nervously. 

“About me being an Omega?” You asked confusedly. “I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me.” 

He gave you another nervous smile before explaining why he had you waiting for him. “Sir Nighteye’s company is having a dinner to celebrate third year interns on their future graduation and we’re allowed to bring dates! It’s at his company and since you’re now a single Omega, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. You’re totally allowed to say no since you just got out of a courting situation but I thought I’d be willing to give it a chance.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his rambling. 

“Mirio, relax!” You exclaimed. “Of course I’ll be your date! Is it casual clothing or should I go out and buy a dress?” 

Mirio let out what was in between a squeal and a manly shout of victory. “No, just business casual. No need to go all out. But thank you for saying yes! I appreciate it!” 

“No problem! Now want to catch lunch? I’m sure you’re just as hungry as I am!” You asked as he nodded in agreement. “Well, let’s get to the lunch line or maybe Tamaki and Nejire will let us cut the line.” 

“We’ll cut the line so let’s go!” Mirio exclaimed as he grabbed your arm and ran towards his two best friends. 

-

The dinner he asked you too was on a Sunday afternoon and you were a bit nervous to say the least. It had only been a week since your outraged argument with Bakugou but after a few of the Omega’s in your dorm told you it was completely okay to go out, you knew it was fine. 

You were going out on a date, not like Mirio asked to court you or anything! You were happy to finally be out and hanging with friends again, which you hadn’t done in what felt like forever. 

“Hey guys! Are you guys coming to the dinner as well!” You asked Nejire and Tamaki. They nodded yes. “That’s awesome! I had no idea all of the agencies were having it together!” 

The four of you hopped on a train to get to the agency. It was exactly like Mirio said. A bunch of interns, heroes, and their friends and family. It was a relaxed enviornment for Omega’s to be around as you noticed that Tamaki was just as relaxed as you were. 

All of you got a table together, along with the heroes they were training under. You could tell that Fatgum must’ve been one of the funnest heroes to intern for while Nighteye would take getting used too. 

While you were up getting dessert with Nejire, Nighteye whispered over to Mirio. 

“Is she your date?” He asked. Mirio nodded shyly as they watched you talking with Nejire happily. “Not like you’re looking for my approval but I like the two of you together.” 

Mirio gave him the cheesiest smile as you finally sat down at the table. After a while, all of you mentioned to get a cup of coffee and while the heroes denied it, the four of you excused yourselves and went to the shop a few blocks down. 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking.” Nejire said cautiously. “Do you mind explaining why you and Bakugou broke up that night? The two of you were mated for a while so we were all surprised when all of that went down.” 

You sighed. “Well, we had been going strong for a while but after our two month anniversary, I felt the connection between us wasn’t as strong? The only time we would be around each other was during my heats and his ruts. Other than that, he would take me out on a date once a week, maybe if that. It shouldn’t have blown up in the way it did but it happened and I’m over it. I just hope the next time someone decides to court me, the Alpha knows the responsibility that comes when courting an Omega.” You gave Mirio a small quick smile before returning to your coffee. 

Nejire nodded. “I’m sure your next Alpha will be the one you mate for life with! I can sense it!” Nejire joked as you choked on your coffee. Mirio followed as Tamaki and Nejire started laughing. One of the barista asked all of you to hush down which caused the four of you to continue giggling. 

Once all of you were finished with the coffee, it was decided to finally head back to UA. Mirio offered to walk you back to the dorms and while he did, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. A part of you squealing that you would have Mirio’s scent on you and vice versa. 

He walked you to the front of the dorms and the two of you chatted for a bit. 

“Would you like to do this again?” Mirio asked nervously. You nodded as you seen him holding the cardigan he was wearing in his hand. “When you get back to me on our second date, you’ll be getting this back.” 

“Fine, you won’t be getting your necklace back until then either!” 

He gave you the typical Mirio smile before yanking the necklace off your neck and running away. You rolled your eyes jokingly as you walked into the dorms. Everyone was in bed and you knew the next morning, you would be bombarded with questions. 

-

“So, how was the date?” Jirou asked with a relaxed tone. You were glad that Jirou was a Beta and not an Alpha or Omega who would’ve hounded you down for the answers. 

“Great, he actually slipped a note in my locker this morning mentioning that he was taking me lazar tagging on Friday!” You managed to say before Kaminari decided to blurt it out. “Really! Are the two of you courting already! Is that why you have his sweater and he has your necklace!” 

You pushed Kaminari off his desk as everyone who heard, gasped. “Shut the hell up, Kaminari!” You screeched as you hid into the sweater and covered your face. 

Everyone stared at you before Aizawa called attention to him. Every so often, someone would ask you a question but you gave them a one word answer until lunch time was called 

The class immediately ran out as you swiftly put everything into your backpack and grabbed your lunch out of it. You were meeting Mirio at one of the benches outside of the campus to have lunch. 

“So, you and Mirio?” You heard Bakugou ask. Your body stiffened in place as you turned to look at him. 

“Yeah.” You muttered. You were sure that Bakugou could smell Mirio’s scent but you weren’t really worried about that at the moment. “Why do you ask?” 

“No reason, just wondering.” 

You nodded as you grabbed your lunch and walked out of the class to leave Bakugou to his own devices. Mirio was waiting outside of the class and overheard the conversation. 

“Was he bothering you?” Mirio asked as he put his arm around you and held you close so his scent would emanate more. “Because I can handle it if you’d like.” 

You shook your head no. “No, it’s okay, Togata. Let’s go to lunch before we run out of time.” You knew that Mirio would eventually end up your Alpha and having someone like Mirio sounded a lot better than Bakugou. Bakugou would have to work on himself before he even thought of going for another Omega. No Omega would deal with him for as long as you did and every Alpha deserved to live a happily ever after with their Omega. 

ALITA 

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagine #mha #mha imagine #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #alpha mirio togata #alpha mirio togata x reader #alpha mirio togata imagine #bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #Mirio Togata #mirio togata imagine #mirio togata x reader #bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou katsuki

[irisvoyage04]

The Master Builder's Resort.

Loft Conversions & Expansions In London.

Content

Alteration As Well As Construction.

Do I Need Preparing Consent For A Loft Conversion?

Preparation.

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Posted: Mon, 18 Jan 2021 21:01:20 GMT [source]

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[blakemetothemoon]

Love in a Laundromat - SaifahZon, T, Ch. 2/?

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Notes: Chapter 2! Unexpected Zon Angst! This is lookin’ like it’ll be longer than 4 chapters now oops

Read below or on ao3! :)

“You one hundred percent overreacted,” Tutor says after Zon recounts the whole encounter at the laundromat the night before.

It’s Friday afternoon and they’re doing their usual study session. The two of them are in different majors, but Zon struggles with some general studies and Tutor appreciates Zon’s company when studying gets too heavy and he needs Zon to make him laugh.

“It’s a washing machine, Zon.”

“Yeah, but I alw—”

“If you say ‘always’ one more time,” Tutor says, gaze steady and scary, “then I’m never tutoring you again.”

Zon’s mouth slams shut.

“And even though you're complaining, I know you're feeling guilty so just apologize to him,” Tutor continues, returning his attention to the math notes he’s reviewing. “You’re good at it because you have to do it so often.”

Zon huffs and pouts. What Tutor says is true. Zon is stubborn and childish, but he knows when he’s messed up. Apologies aren’t easy but he always feels worse if he doesn’t do them.

“Who knows if I’ll even see him again?” Zon mumbles, twirling his pen around his fingers. “That tall asshole giraffe might be scared off.”

For some reason that makes Tutor perk up. “How tall was he?”

Zon’s nose scrunches as he thinks back. “I don’t know? Like, 192 cm?”

“Was he handsome?”

The guy’s face instantly flashes through Zon’s mind. Not that it ever left. It’s annoying, actually, how he couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid, cocky smirk, that taunting eyebrow raise, those nice arms and pretty lips and—

“Definitely not,” Zon snaps back but can’t top the tip of his ears from turning red.

Tutor gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe him. “Did he tell you his name?"

“No. Why?”

The sudden mischievous glint in Tutor’s eye puts Zon on edge. “No reason. Oh, if you want to apologize you should buy him an iced coffee with cinnamon and vanilla syrup."

Then, before Zon can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Tutor uses the I’m-never-tutoring-you-again threat a second time and flicks Zon in the forehead to prove he’s serious.

*

The next Thursday, Zon arrives a little later than normal. He's decided to take Tutor's advice (like he always does) and stopped by the nearest coffee shop. He's partially hoping Tall Asshole Giraffe won't be there, but when Zon steps up to the door and sees the back of the guy's head, his heart skips a beat. Zon has to turn away to calm himself down, then it takes a good minute to psyche himself up again.

Juggling a laundry basket and a large iced coffee while opening the door is an unexpected challenge. Zon steps backwards, preparing to push it with his shoulder, when it suddenly opens. Zon’s balance is thrown off, but a hand, large and warm, catches his lower back and steadies him before he can fall.

Zon looks to see who caught him and immediately goes back to unsteady.

"Careful,” Tall Asshole Giraffe says, “or you'll throw laundry everywhere again." 

Zon sputters. Tall Asshole Giraffe is so close that Zon's back hits the door when he jumps away.

"Don't make fun of me!"

Now at least Zon is annoyed enough to feel less stupid about the coffee. He shoves the drink into the guy's chest.

"Here!"

Tall Asshole Giraffe hesitantly takes the drink, staring at it with utter confusion. "What's this for?"

"It's an apology." Zon shuffles from one foot to the next. His grip on his basket is starting to shake but he forces himself to look at the other's face. "Sorry for yelling at you last week."

The guy goes speechless for only half a second, but it’s long enough for Zon to feel proud he isn’t the one caught off guard for once.

“Is it poisoned?” Tall Asshole Giraffe asks.

“No!” Zon says, louder than he means to. “I don’t know how to poison things!”

With that Zon shoves his way forward, purposely putting his laundry basket between them so they don’t touch. He storms over towards his usual washer. Annoyance is already rising because he knows the asshole is probably using it.

Except the machine currently shaking and buzzing isn’t Zon’s; it’s the one next to it, placed between his and the wall.

“Wait…,” Zon says and swirls around, sneakers squeaking. He stabs a finger towards his washer, currently not in use. “Why aren’t you using my...this machine?”

Tall Asshole Giraffe shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. His eyes light up like a puppy. Guess Tutor’s input on the coffee order had been bang on. “I thought about it, but you seem to have a powerful connection to it.”

“What the hell, don’t make it weird!”

“Hey, hey, I get it, promise. We all have something like that.” Tall Asshole Giraffe takes another drink and smirks around the straw. “It was pretty fun to make you mad, though.”

The smirk sends Zon somewhere between angry and swooning. The childish side takes over and he yanks open the washer’s door, pointedly ignoring the laugh his annoyed, puffed out cheeks earn him.

It isn't until Zon is shoving his clothes into his washing machine that Tall Asshole Giraffe says, "I’m Saifah, by the way.”

‘Saifah’ is a much... nicer name than Tall Asshole Giraffe. Zon nods, trying to be casual despite the way his goddam heart jumps again at the new information. “I’m Zon.”

"I know."

Zon turns his head so fast he's pretty sure he gets whiplash. "You know?"

"You're Tutor's friend."

"I am?” Zon shakes his head, trying to get his bearings back and not sound like a complete moron. “I mean, yeah, I am. And you...You know Tutor?"

“We’re pretty close since we're in the same major.”

That gives Zon pause. Saifah... now that he’s heard it, that name does sound familiar. Then why hadn’t Saifah introduced himself the first two times they met, if he knew who Zon was? And why didn’t Tutor...

Zon glances at the coffee in Saifah's hand. Iced with vanilla syrup and cinnamon.

Oh, that little shit. Tutor is about to get fifteen texts. They will be single, angry emojis, and Zon hopes they wake Fighter up so that Tutor has to deal with his grumpy ass.

Saifah rests his shoulder against the empty machine next to Zon's. Even leaning like that, Saifah's a head taller than Zon. A mischievous glimmer makes Saifah’s eyes damn near sparkly. "I've seen you around."

Zon’s mouth drops open and his cheeks are going to be permanently stained red at this point. He starts to stutter out some response that was about to be far from eloquent. But then Saifah raises the iced coffee to his mouth again and holds Zon’s gaze as he wraps his lips around the straw—

Music suddenly bursts from Zon's pocket. Zon has never been more grateful for a phone call in his life.

Of course, Saifah quirks a smile when Zon fumbles to answer it without even checking the caller ID.

Then the voice on the other end says Zon’s name and he very much wishes he had checked it.

“Hi, Mom,” Zon replies.

“Your sister mentioned you updated your story yesterday.”

Welp, straight to the point like Mom always was.

Did you even read the chapter? Zon thinks. But he bites the words back like he always does. He used to ask but the answers have been, “I didn’t have time” or “It’s not the genre I enjoy” for so long, it’s pointless to hope for a different answer now. 

“Mom, it’s late,” Zon groans. Sometimes he wishes he hadn’t inherited his mother’s night owl tendencies. If he hadn’t, he would be sleeping right now and not having this repetitive conversation they've had a hundred times before. “Do we need to do this right now?”

“Don’t try to hang up on me. I know you do laundry on Thursday nights and that laundromat is always empty, so I know you’re alone.”

Zon’s eyes shift to Saifah before he can stop himself. Zon is half-expecting to make eye contact with Saifah and his heart speeds up at the possibility, but the other boy is playing a game on his phone. Whatever’s happening must be challenging, because there’s a crease in his brow and his lips are pursed in a pout. Zon can’t stop staring at it, wondering what else Saifah’s lips can do—

“Zon!”

“Uh, yes!”

Oh, great. Now Saifah is looking at him. Zon blushes so hot he can’t even offer an awkward smile before turning away.

“Are you listening?” his mom demands instead of asks.

“Yes,” Zon says again and sighs. “Mom—”

“Honey,” his mom interrupts, “I know you enjoy writing, but you need to focus on your studies.”

And there it is. Only one minute, forty-three seconds in, according to the call time when Zon glances at it. Top three quickest times. Impressive.

“You’re going to law school because you’re good at arguing.” His mother laughs like her pride at that part of Zon should soothe away the sting of her words. “Focus on your strengths, alright? The semester is almost over, so you’ll have plenty of time for...” She hums, searching for the right term, “hobbies then.”

A hobby. That’s all they want Zon’s writing to be. That’s all they believe it ever can be.

Not like his sister. Zol is popular. Her stories get millions of views and she can run ads on them and she’s already making an impressive amount of money. The comments are always positive and “can’t wait for more.” His parents share links to her stories on facebook. When Zon goes home for dinner a few times a month, the conversation is always Zol describing the next chapter or where she gets inspiration from. He loves his sister. For siblings so close in age, they get along better than most. Sure, they bicker and Zol tattles on him more than she should, but they would go to the ends of the earth for each other. But it still hurts, knowing his parents are so enthusiastic about her writing when they haven’t bothered reading a chapter of anything Zon’s written in, what, two years?

And Zon doesn’t dare to bring up to his mom and dad about how he’s writing lyrics now and even sings made-up melodies sometimes. Both of his parents are musicians and Zon’s heart can’t handle the inevitable disappointment when they tell him his songwriting and singing should remain a “hobby,” too.

“Okay,” Zon finally replies. Somehow he manages to keep his voice from shaking. All he wants is for this conversation to be over. “Yeah, I understand. Love you, too. Goodnight.”

Zon’s finger is still lingering over the screen of his phone when Saifah asks, “You okay?”

Zon jolts. He forgot he isn’t alone. And he has tears in the corners of his eyes. And he’s seriously about to fucking cry in a laundromat in front of someone like Saifah who is probably judging him.

Shit, ever since Saifah appeared, Zon’s done nothing but embarrass himself.

Though it’s not like Zon’s life was anything but an embarrassment before.

A deep breath, then two. Zon wipes the tears away with the sleeve of his t-shirt. He quickly bends down to grab his headphones and notebook out of his bag, then settles down onto the bench without a single glance Saifah's way.

“Yeah, I'm fine," Zon says. He clears his throat. "Thanks though.”

There’s a moment of silence where Zon wonders if Saifah will make fun of him like he’s done the last two times they met. Zon really doesn’t think he can handle it and he just apologized for yelling at Saifah, he really doesn’t want to do it again. But his mother’s words have made him feel cornered and on edge, and he always lashes out when this happens.

Saifah picks up on Zon’s mood and doesn’t press the topic further. With soft eyes and a nod, he leans back against the wall, one long leg crossing over the other. He busies himself with something else on his phone and leaves Zon to his music and notepad.

Except Zon’s notepad taunts him. When he tries to scribble words, nothing comes except more tears blurring his vision. Each stroke of his pen adds to the pressure on Zon’s chest. An unrelenting tightness that makes it difficult to breathe, makes him want to run and hide away forever.

Zon spends the rest of the night with his notebook shut tight in his lap and tries to drown his thoughts in music until the dryer finally signals it’s done.

#SaifahZon #ZonSaifah #SaiZon #Why R U #why r u the series #why r u? #blakemetothemoon #fic #fanfic

[ixchel-sketch]

TITLE: Palehuiloca / Ayudar 

GENRE: Crime & Romance

FANDOM: Mayans M.C.

SHIP(S): Coco & Original Female Character 

STATUS: Complete

LENGTH: 5,291 words

Set while Coco is still a prospect. One of his first orders is to help newly full patched members Angel and Gilly locate a corrupt drug dealer at a local music festival. He never expected to meet Maya.

It was early in the evening when the headlights of bikes cut through the light of the setting sun and three members of the local motorcycle club were waved into the festival without so much as a second glance from security. All manner of people were attending, most of them on their way towards inebriation in some form of another. Johnny “Coco” Cruz looked around at the various stages set up in the large canyon, the sounds of whatever concert was currently playing blasted through the state park. Competing for the attention of the crowds of people weaving their way from one set to another. A couple that looked to be barely out of their teens stumbled by and nearly bumped into Coco had he not been hyper focused on his surroundings.

“Jesus, would you look at this place.” Angel’s dark eyes followed after them, noting the way the couple wove and leaned on each other in support. To the average attendee they seemed to be in the depths of young love, laughing and showering displays of affection no matter how inappropriate. To anyone with experience it was obvious they were high off their asses.

“That’s why we’re here isn’t it? Marcus said that we needed to smoke out some dealer. “ Gilberto “Gilly” Lopez adjusted the thick leather vest that all three of them wore, squinting out at the crowd in observation.

“For selling on Mayan terf?”

Coco finally came back to the conversation, a little bit confused on why they would be put on something that seemed to have nothing to do with the club. As a prospect, there weren't many orders that he was in a position to question. It helped that he and Angel had roomed together right before he'd patched in. He trusted him, which was something he hadn't experienced much before.

"There's been an uptick in overdoses. Someones cutting their shit and it makes the M.C. look bad. Since most assume that's where it's coming from." Now it made sense. It would definitely hurt their business and possibly gain unwanted attention from authorities if the main take away from the music festival was the amount of narcan used.

But how the hell were they supposed to find that needle in this shitshow of a haystack? The longer they stood idly by the entrance the worse that he began to feel about this whole thing. There were only three of them there and too many unknowns. They had no idea how serious this guy was or if they had their own crew. Paranoia leeched some of the stoic strength that usually radiated from Coco. No, crowded and booming festivals were definitely not his thing.

"We should split up," Coco scowled at Gilly's suggestion but all of them nodded in agreement nonetheless. "Cover more ground that way. Look for anyone buying or dealing. "

Maya had been attending music festivals since before she knew how to talk. She’d grown up dressed in tie dye onesies and been lulled to sleep by the sound of amature drum circles. It was a lifestyle that she knew like the back of her hand and the road between each destination felt just as much home as the stops between. All she really needed in order to be happy was the RV that she’d inherited from her father and enough gas and savings to keep making her art in comfort. Not many people seemed to understand her need for near constant travel and freedom, much less stick around.

Today had been different though. Slow, and while the general guests were perfectly content with the food vendors and alcohol sales, not too many had stopped through her booth and made actual purchases. Only in the last hour had there been a wave of people walking around and buying different trinkets and goods that she’d made. The increase in sales usually took up all of her attention. Mental energy split between being conversational and likeable as a vendor and keeping an eye out to make sure no one lifted anything. She supposed that was another reason for not wanting to be tied down --- maintaining a fake sociable mask for longer than a couple hours at a time was down right exhausting. With a heavy sigh Maya got up from her chair and stretched as tall as she could. It wasn’t very tall.

Finally she noticed a man standing with his back to the corner of her booth and steeled herself to once again paste on a fake smile. It wasn’t unusual for a potential customer to spend time just staring at a piece… but with a hint of concern she realized that wasn’t what he was doing. Dark eyes were focused intensely out at the crowd and she tried not to flinch when that gaze was turned on her. “Hey, can I help you?”

“What? No, I’m uh- good thanks.” He didn’t look good, warm brown skin having taken on a slightly pallid complexion. The man looked spooked, bordering on shaken and even though she knew better than to reach out something on Maya’s face must have given away her confusion and he rushed to explain. “It was just really loud, I couldn’t even hear myself think.”

“ You want some water?” Before he could answer the brunette was ducking behind a table to grab a metal thermos that was still chilly from her ice run earlier. He accepted it and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the way his adam apple moved when he took a drink or the stray bead of water that escaped the corner of Coco’s lips. Maya licked her own subtly and subconsciously before adding, “Yeah, festivals can be a lot. I lucked out this year and my booth got placed opposite of the concert field. Shitty for sales though.”

When he handed her back the thermos her fingers brushed against his, releasing butterflies in her stomach and Maya tried her best to brush it off. Coco seemed to finally notice the different posters and jewelry that decorated the tables and his eyebrows rose, fingers ghosting over the designs pressed into leather bracelets. “All this stuff is yours? You made it?”

She nods, a natural grin spreading across full lips. There were few things that she carried a fair amount of pride about, her art being one of them. “Claro que si, Well, except for the bones, those I get from hunters and collectors. Same for the crystals.”

His hand fell away and Coco nodded. Something about the way that he was looking at the merch had Maya relaxing a bit, casting a glance back towards where people were clearing the man made path that separated the music from the vendors to herd themselves into a new performance. There probably wouldn't be anyone else wandering through her booth for a few hours at least.

“ It’s really tight, the detail in the designs is crazy.”

“Thank you. My name’s Maya.” She expected the blink of confusion that followed.

“Sorry, what?”

“Just call me Maya.” Another nod and from the way that Coco’s shoulders sag just a bit she can tell he’s starting to relax too. Whether it's because of the compliment that he’d given her work or just a sudden craving for more substantial human interaction, Maya made up her mind and opened the canopy flap that led to where her RV was parked behind the booth. “I was planning on taking a little break -- para fumar. You wanna join me?”

Finally a genuine smile touches the other’s eyes as Coco replies “I’m always good for a smoke.”

She led Coco back to the small table pulled under the awning and sat down in a rusted lawn chair, motioning for him to do the same. It creaked under his weight and she couldn’t help but offer a slightly embarrassed smile while retrieving the glass jar from a leather satMaya hanging over her shoulder. The inside of the glass was so coated in crystals and weed dust that it was hard to make out the details of the small buds jostled within. “So is this your first festival in awhile?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Probably my first.”

“No shit?” Maya passed Coco the ornately blown glass piece she’d been gifted some time back. It was surprising to find how easy conversation was to have with him as the two began to talk about their interests. Music was the easiest shared denominator, with Maya’s tastes being basically anything that isn’t outright offensive or problematic. But slowly the two started to talk about more personal stuff as well. They came from vastly different backgrounds but somehow nothing seemed to get lost in translation, the time passed faster than either had realized and before she knew it the light was just starting to fade from the sky. Their shadows stretching out in the grass before them and tinting the campsite in a pretty orange.

“So you like to go it alone?” The conversation had circled back to her and Maya rolled her shoulders in a relaxed shrug.

“I’m still only twenty fuckin’ three. And I’m picky as hell, hanging around musicians all the time you know. I’m not just some fuckin’ groupie.”

Coco held up his hands and hissed as if he’d touched something hot, “I got you, my bad.”

She deflated and ran a hand through messy dark waves. As much as she loved the freedom, sometimes loneliness did creep into her life and forced Maya to examine what she really wanted… but she wouldn’t know how to settle down even if she tried. “No it’s on me. My shit. Sorry, dude.”

He nodded, accepting the apology for her snappy response before his cell phone went off and drew Coco’s attention away from the company. With a sinking feeling he realized he’d missed out on the reason they were originally there. All he could do was hope that Angel or Gilly had found something to take back to El Padrino. “Yeah? I’ll be there.”

Maya waited a moment before speaking up, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice. “Those the guys you’re here with? Tus hermanos?”

Coco stood up and fixed the lawn chair, which had sagged so that the seat of it was brushing the ground. She moved to follow him and he offered her a hand to help Maya to her feet. They stood close for a moment while she regained her balance, so close she could smell him and it caused the hair to rise on the back of her neck and heat to coil in her stomach. Shit. Taking a step back, she brushed off her clothes and tried to meet his eyes when Coco replied; “Yeah , sort of. Better than any family I was born with. Even all that shit they say about brothers in arms in the military ain’t nothin like what the M.C. is.”

Dark brows furrowed and Maya pieced together what he meant, not having much experience with bikers outside of slightly unpleasant gas station exchanges. “So you’re here with guys who are also in your...motorcycle club?”

That seemed to make Coco laugh and shake his head while grabbing a cigarette from the box in his vest pocket. Before he could fumble around for his lighter she managed to fish hers out of her pocket, holding it out to him. “Yeah,” He took a drag and made sure to blow it away from where she stood. “We’re actually here trying to pick up. I don’t know if you use anything harder..”

A deep frown creased her face and she gave Coco a subtle once over, as though potentially seeing him in a different light. “Oh...No I uhm, I don’t. That shit’s gotten kind of dangerous.”

He looks equally relieved and she can’t help but be a bit confused. “Good, I mean, I don’t neither. Not like that.”

Coco’s done his share of hard partying and drugs, been addicted and managed to come to terms with his limits. Something in the way that he holds himself lets Maya know that she can believe him, that he’s not just back peddling in order to save face. She nods and goes to untie the opening of her booth to let people know she’s once again open for business --- and to allow Coco to exit into the main crowd.

“Because I’ve seen some people be taken off the grounds for OD’s...it’s depressing shit.” Mostly it was just people who attended but every once and awhile a musician or vendor would end up getting an ambulance called. It was always sad, especially if it was someone that she’d see at a few different venues and become somewhat friendly with.

“See that’s why we’re trying to find the guy selling this shit... stop it from getting into the community.”

Her expression changed to one of surprise before a full bottom lip slipped between her teeth in mild indecision. She was sick of seeing people taken advantage of in her community, at least Coco’s gang was doing something about it. “...I could help, maybe? Talk to the other vendors and see if they’ve seen anything. Are you guys camping out or are you coming back tomorrow?”

She hoped that they were, handing Coco one of the cards that she kept on display so that he might be able to get in contact with her again. Dark eyes tracked the motion of him slipping it into his pocket, her own hands fumbling awkwardly. Coco’s phone buzzed again and she could tell from his reaction it was probably his guys asking where he was.

“We’ll be back. I’ll hit you up.”

He returned to where their bikes were being looked after with a much lighter heart, both from the conversation and finding a potential lead. Gilly was tempted to stay a bit longer and as much as Coco wanted to agree it was obvious to both him and Angel that had much more to do with the actual festival than the club’s interests. Angel was disappointed in the lack of concrete evidence and it showed in his scowl and furrowed brow.

“Damn man. Everyone’s high but it just seems like a bunch of fuckin hippies.” He grumbled, looking either Coco or Gilly in the hopes that they found something of more use.

“I saw someone get carried out but it could have been heat stroke. No one else around.”

Angel turned to Coco, “ What about you? Any luck?”

In no rush to admit that he’d wasted most of his time blowing off their orders to talk to some chick, he kept his answer clipped. “Yeah...maybe.”

The internal conflict caused him to stiffen when Angel’s hand landed on his shoulder in camaraderie. But the other Mayan only seemed encouraged by Coco’s admission, wrinkling his nose before stepping back to mount his ride. “Shit, you smell like skunk.”

The night went by uneventfully despite Maya’s best attempts to find any of her connections that might have an idea what was going on or who was dealing. None of her artisan contacts had any interest in exploring those kinds of narcotics and had a similar reaction to the one that she had earlier. Only after explaining why she was looking for the illicit substance did their judgement lessen. Eventually, after making sure to put the word out that she was interested in trying something different (as a ruse to lure out the dealer) Maya was forced to give up and go to sleep with the hopes that the next day would bring better luck.

And whether it was her own self manifestation or the will of the gods, after spending most of the next day with her attention split between selling her goods and looking out for any nefarious activity her first lead appeared. Half way through the day someone was taken from the medic tent looking half dead but no one seemed to know much about it. Coco messaged her, checking in to see if she had found anything. All of the texts were very...Friendly. They joked back and forth just as much as talking (if not more) than about what was happening at the festival. By the time she did hear back from one of her contacts -- a time and place to meet the person who was selling smack, Maya was too excited about having a legitimate reason to see Coco again than to think through all of the potential consequences of going to the meet.

With her booth closed up and cellphone slipped into the back of her pocket, Maya headed to the spot in the back of the general campsite. It wasn’t too far from her where she was vending but definitely far enough from the security spots and exits to be inconspicuous. The man waiting for her was tall and spindly, the dark cliche hoodie he wore nearly hung off of him with how loose it was. His greeting smile felt lewd, red rimmed eyes focusing on the naked skin of her legs for far longer than she was comfortable with. A sinking feeling started to build in her gut but Maya decided to ignore it.

“So I heard you were looking to pick up ?”

She froze, a small frown working its way onto her face. Even when she wanted so hard to play it cool.“Well, not me, my friend was interested…”

“And where’s your friend?”

The tone of his voice made the hair rise on the back of her neck and Maya looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby. The sound of music playing could be heard even from the distance of the campground and she knew better than to hope there would be anyone loitering there instead of watching a band. “He’s meeting up with me later.”

“Your boyfriend?” The man took a step forward, reaching out to pick up a strand of her long dark hair. At this distance she could make out the details of his pockmarked cheeks and nearly gasped at the memory of his face disappearing into the crowd after the EMT’s had taken away the person hours earlier. Maya’s heart started to race and muscles froze into place with the rise of panic. It was a challenge to take the answering step back, only to find that there was a tent flush behind her back.

“No, just a friend. So can I uhm, can I get the stuff?” Her anxiety to leave was building but Maya didn’t want to take off without at least getting some proof to show Coco that she had found the guy.

“Of course baby, why? You in a hurry?” She watched as his hand made contact with her arm, the other one going to grab her hip almost forcefully to try and drag Maya closer. The grip should have been strong enough to bruise but she couldn’t feel anything beyond the shock. Her dark eyes go wide and it takes a few quick breaths to work past the fear.

“Yeah actually I just need to… can you-- Hey!”

The sun had already set by the time that the Mayans rolled back up to the festival. Coco once again had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach though this time it was for a different reason than being triggered by the crowd. He’d been texting Maya most of the day but in the last hour she had stopped without warning. And when they got to her booth it was closed up and deserted, most of the vendors having shut down by then. Gilly gave a look around before sending Coco a sympathetic shrug. “You sure she was supposed to meet you here bro?”

“It looks pretty empty.” Angel agreed.

“Yeah man this is her spot.” He didn’t like this feeling at all. Like a coil of stress winding tighter and tighter at his core, a rubber band stretched to the breaking point. What he wouldn’t give for it to just be his fucked up mind playing tricks on him again. Just when he was about to finally dismiss it a feminine shout echoed through the space. “ Shit!”

Maya had her eyes pressed tightly closed as the heat of the stranger pressed against her caused sickening chills. Her heart raced so loud that anything that was coming out of his mouth was lost to the rushing noise in her ears. A spell or curse that was caused by paralyzing panic and only when his hand moved from her back to ghost over the curve of Maya’s ass did it break enough for her to scream.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Her arms came up to push him away, gasping in surprise when at the same time someone grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him back. The motion was too quick, but the line of Coco’s back could be seen as he pinned the dealer to the ground and laid blow after blow to the man’s face. After a few minutes Angel pulled him off, pushing Coco away so that he could catch his breath and pull himself together after unleashing all that rage.

Maya jumped when she realized there was someone standing behind her with their hand on her shoulder, large dark eyes looking up at Gilly and he released her and took a step back to give the shaken woman some space. “You good? “

Her answering nod was a little too quick to be believable but no one called her out on it. “ Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“Is this the guy?” Angel nodded towards the bloody heap on man on the ground, still standing between him and Coco though Gilly moved closer to help lift the suspect.

“I don’t know, I know he sells. And he was hanging around someone who OD’d earlier.”

Their expressions went tight and she received a nod, Coco finally walking back over to them and muttering something in Angel’s direction. “ We’ll talk to him.”

While Angel and Gilly dragged the unconscious man back towards their bikes, Maya turned her attention back to Coco, finally noting the way his lips had pulled down into a sour scowl. She had a feeling that a large part of it had to do with her and a knot of guilt formed in her stomach. He started to turn back towards the exit of the festival, about to leave without saying a word and before she realized it Maya was reaching out to gently wrap her hand around his bicep. “ Do you wanna come back to my RV? Get a drink?”

He looked at her hand for a long minute, still not able to meet her eyes even after she let go. “...Okay, sure.”

Neither of them spoke on the way back to where her RV was parked. The tension was nearly palpable and she pulled out a beer from the cooler typically reserved for guests and passed it to Coco. Her eyes lingered on how his fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, knuckles red and bruised from impact. While he opened it she went about unlocking the 1990 Winnebago so that they might be able to talk with some semblance of privacy. The comfort of her mobile home was a soothing balm against all of the excitement and chaos she’d been involved in. Maya deftly opened some cabinets and removed a half finished bottle of tequila and dusty shot glass.

“You know what you did earlier? Was pretty stupid.”

When she looks up from preparing her drink Coco is staring at her intently. “...Excuse me?”

The incredulity in her voice sets him off and Coco pushes away from where he’d been leaning against the narrow counter to loom over her. Now she can tell that she’d seriously misunderstood something earlier as he looks...actually angry. The bottle is forgotten behind him and his chin raises, a defensive posture if she’d ever seen one. “That guy could have pulled a knife, or a gun. Then what?”

She hadn’t thought about if that had happened, but she had a feeling saying that out loud wouldn’t help her case. In an attempt at levity, Maya forced a smirk and tilted her head in faux innocence. “Get shot, I guess?”

It doesn’t help. His brows draw together and his tone raises which causes her to reel back. It only now occurs to her that she doesn’t actually know him that well or what he’s capable of in anger. “What the fuck kind of thinking is that? Eres una pinche idiota?”

Maya’s gaze drops to the floor and her shoulders sag in defeat. She can tell that the reaction is one out of concern for her wellbeing but she doesn’t have a clue on how to fix things. With a heavy sigh she rubs a hand across her face. “I just wanted to help,” Coco continues to look at her, and his expression softens just a bit in acceptance. “ ...You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

Coco is still standing close enough that if she were to lean forward it wouldn’t take much effort at all to place a kiss on his chin. The thought taunting her almost as much as the way that his voice dips an octave and ridiculously long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. “ Next time just call me, yeah?”

A hopeful smile pulls at full lips and she rocks forward on her heels so that their chests are nearly touching. “Next time?”

“That’s not what I ...shit, I just mean,” His eyes are locked on her lips and the atmosphere of the confined space in the RV has changed with their mood. The air is heavy and she closes the distance between them in an obvious invitation, one of her hands splaying flat on his chest where the patch meets the leather of his vest. Coco’s eyes grow even darker if possible.

“It’s cool. I got you.” There are no expectations as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls Maya into a hungry kiss. It’s not soft or gentle and she matches his pace eagerly. The hand on his chest snakes around to stroke over the hair at the base of his neck and one of his rakes up the tank top she’s wearing in order to cup her breast. His other arm is pulling her closer still, passion completely unleashed and Maya is forced to break away in a gasp of pleasure when Coco’s leg parted hers and pressed the lines of their bodies against one another until she could feel the tent forming against her hip.

In an act of rare dexterity she managed to turn them so that her back is facing the hallway. It’s far too great a sacrifice to pull away from him or the way that Coco is running his hands along her body. He follows her until the back of her knees press against the mattress and helps to lower her down, wet kisses trailing from her mouth to the column of her throat.

His touch lights her nerves on fire and Maya sighs into the kiss, opening her mouth so that he can take advantage and wind his tongue against hers. Once the heavy leather vest is dropped on the corner of the bed she removes her shirt and pulls Coco back down on top of her. His hands roam and grope her torso while the warm weight of his hips pin her down and roll against her. “Que quieres?”

“Don’t st…keep going.” It’s all the encouragement that he seems to need before Coco is slipping her jean shorts and underwear off her legs and placing nips and kisses along Maya’s hips. It’s a quick tease before her returns to place a kiss on her swollen lips. The fabric of his button up shirt rubs against her chest and she manages to slide her hands beneath it and the thin wife beater under that. They're both in too much of a hurry to really focus on removing each other’s clothes entirely. It’s a \victory just to be able to get a few of the small buttons undone as Coco unfastens his belt to slide his pants down his hips.

“Oh...fuck.” The unbidden whine slips from Maya when he presses two fingers inside of her, whispering a compliment into her ear before replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. It’s been awhile since she’s been with another person, and when he thrusts his entire length in with one quick motion she can’t help but lock her legs around his waist to hold him in place. Coco senses her tense and takes a couple of deep breaths, panting against her shoulder before placing kisses on her chest.

“Relax, mi cariña.” Coco groaned, gripping her ass and pressing Maya closer. He waited until she moaned and rolled her hips against his before picking up the pace of his movements. Once they find a rhythm it doesn’t take long before Maya is coming undone. She cries out in pleasure and tenses around Coco, arms tightly wound around his neck and face pressed against his shoulder. Just a couple of uneven thrusts later and he’s following close behind, groaning and rolling off of Maya so that he’s facing her on the mattress. They both have to catch their breath and she savors the look of pure relaxation on Coco’s face. The lines of stress fall away and he looks years younger.

Maya wants nothing more than to reach out and brush some of the dark hair off of his forehead, but when she does she’s pinned with that same intense stare from earlier as he flinched away from her hand. The connection that was there between them suddenly feels dulled. Coco rolled onto his back, staring up silently at the roof of the RV.

“So… you said something about next time.” She had a sudden sinking feeling in her gut and joined in the direction of his gaze. It was dark out now and the small amount of daylight had charged the old glow in the dark star stickers so that they set off a subtle glow. The longer she looked, the easier it was to pick them out against the faded roof material and ignore the embarrassed burning of her cheeks.

Coco sat up and fixed himself into his pants. From the angle she was at it was nearly impossible to tell exactly what his expression was. “...Yeah. I’ll give you a call.”

That certainly didn’t sound reassuring.

“Right.” Maya’s tone turned flat and cold, earning a glance from the other before she followed suit and sat up to pull her discarded tank top back over her head. Her shorts had been shoved off of the bed in their earlier activities however her underwear lay crumpled near by and she slipped them on to put off meeting his eyes. “Well, I’m only going to be in the area for another couple of days then I do a show up north. If I hear from you it’s cool but if not...it is what it is.”

The warmth of his palm spreads over her cheek and Coco pulls her up so that he can place a gentle kiss on her lips, far softer than she ever would have expected. “ Hey, querida… I’ll call. I got you.”

A soft smile spreads across her face as he slings his kutte over one arm and she pulls him back for one final kiss, happy to get to know him and already excited for the next time they would see each other.

“Ride safe.”

#mayans fanfic #mayans smut #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz

[silverware-and-glasses]

Legitimacy Chapter 6

In which Ronald has a lovely glass of wine and contemplates Sebastian’s overuse of chess metaphors.

Read on AO3 or after the cut

Whatever Ronald expected the prince to be like, it wasn’t this.

The prince—Soma, Ronald later discovered his name was— threw himself at the tiny earl and surrounded him in so crushing a hug Ronald was surprised Sebastian didn’t intervene. When Ciel finally dragged himself away he was bright red and trembling with rage, but Ronald had the impression he was secretly glad for the affection. Sebastian caught his eye and gave a knowing smile.

“Who’s this?” Soma asked with a nod in Ronald’s direction once Ciel had wriggled out of his grip.

“This is Ronald Knox. He’s…” Ciel hesitated, “Assisting in a case.”

This seemed to open up more questions for poor Soma, but before he could ask any of them Ronald stepped up to him and put his mouth by his ear.

“I’m a secret agent,” he whispered, “For the Yard. But don’t tell anyone okay?”

Soma’s face filled with sunshine. He grinned a pure sparkling grin, surely warmer than anything in association with the Phantomhives had any right to be, and pressed a finger to his lips.

“I’ll keep it a secret,” he said loudly.

At that moment another figure appeared in the hall. Like the prince he was Indian, but his clothes were simple, understated. When he saw the new arrivals he bowed low, and Ronald realised he must have been a servant. He gave a smile to echo his master's: warm and genuine and kind. Sebastian could do worse than take notes from him. Ronald tried to meet his eye to express as much, only to find that he was already mimicking the expression. A genuine smile from Sebastian. Who was this man?

The man turned out to be named Agni, and also turned out to have Sebastian wrapped around his finger. They each idolised the other, although neither of them seemed to know it. Later, when Soma showed Ronald the kitchen during his extremely thorough and enthusiastic tour of the manor, he found them in deep conversation about new recipes they’d been working on. Sebastian had a passionate flare about him that Ronald had never seen before, but the moment he realised he was being watched it vanished. The look he cast in their direction had Soma cowering behind him, and they agreed it was better to just leave.

For the rest of the afternoon the prince trailed Ronald around the house, asking in a stage whisper what it was like to be a spy. So Ronald told him about his grand escape from a Prussian fortress armed with nothing but a toothpick, and the time he seduced the Sultan’s entire harem while he was trying to circumvent smuggling routes out of the Ottoman Empire. None of this was true of course, but he enjoyed the way Soma hung off his every word. Frankly it was nice just being able to say something without being patronised for once.

Soma was surprisingly good company for a kid. Even at dinner, with Sebastian hovering over him, he found they could speak freely, and although both Agni and Sebastian interfered after Ronald tried to give him a particularly salacious piece of dating advice, he found himself feeling considerably lighter. Soma was a good kid, and normal enough for someone living on the Phantomhive estate. Ronald had high hopes for him. If nothing killed his brightness, one day he might be able to share some of it with the earl. Ciel could do with more happiness in his life.

Agni was the same. Ronald was surprised that Ciel could remain so stoic while in acquaintance with Agni. The sun was usually hidden in London, if not by cloud than by smog from the endlessly multiplying chimneys. But when Agni smiled suddenly Ronald knew where the sun had been hiding. Even Sebastian, ever so concerned with remaining unfeeling, glowed under that. He softened around Agni in a way Ronald didn’t expect, and the two of them conversed like old friends.

Ronald didn’t know how to react to that. He hated it, but he didn’t quite know why. Agni seemed like a nice enough person, he didn’t deserve Sebastian toying with him if he was only going to hurt him somewhere down the track. He wondered whether Agni knew what Sebastian was, whether he’d still smile so brightly at him if he did.

The thoughts plagued him all through dinner that evening, and Ronald was glad for once to be able to slip into his room and throw himself into his work. There was a pigeon waiting for him on his windowsill with a brief yet furious note from William strapped to her leg. Ronald turned it over and wrote a back assuring him he was still doing his job, and was only in this situation to protect the case. As he watched the bird off into the night he wondered if that would be enough. Surely if he wasn’t breaking any rules it wouldn’t be a problem. Right?

Ronald threw himself into an armchair and slumped against the arm. He slid his glasses off and rubbed his bleary eyes. His mind still buzzed too much to sleep, especially after William’s letter, yet his limbs felt heavy and his eyes were coated in a bleary film. He needed a stiff drink, but even if he knew where the kitchen was it would be a miracle if he could find where anything was kept. Ronald was prepared to write the mission off as a lost cause when he spied a call bell discretely installed on the far wall.

He stared at the button apprehensively. It was late, if this were a regular household no one downstairs would hear the call. Still, he doubted Sebastian would be asleep and he’d hear the bells regardless of where he was lurking. Sure, it would irritate him having Ronald of all people summon him so late at night, but that was part of the appeal. Sebastian’s dedication to his little butler game would compel him to serve Ronald regardless of how degrading he found it. What a happy little paradox.

Grinning at the thought, Ronald hit the button.

Barely seconds had passed when there was a soft knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply Sebastian stepped into the room and bowed as shallowly as he could feasibly get away with.

“You called,” Sebastian said simply, his façade of professionalism barely a gossamer sheet over the contempt painted across his features.

“I sure did,” Ronald said brightly. “I’d like a drink.”

Sebastian struggled to produce his trademark smile. “Did anything in particular strike your fancy.”

Ronald’s usual drink of choice was ale, largely due to the fact his pay cheque didn’t allow for anything more expensive. But such concerns were non-existent when he was the guest of a wealthy aristocrat. “I suppose your master has a decently stocked wine cellar.” He prodded.

Sebastian didn’t give much away. “I shall find you something appropriate for the occasion,” he said with a bow, and departed once again. However, he wasn’t gone long.

Ronald barely had time to consider what Sebastian would be do to taint his wine before he reappeared, bottle and glass balanced neatly on a silver tray. With a flourish he placed them on the table before Ronald and set about explaining the vintage, which was utterly lost on him. It was probably the cheapest bottle in the cellar, and probably worth more than any Ronald could buy with his own money.

“Did you only bring one glass?” Ronald asked as Sebastian sloshed a generous portion in what was clearly the only glass.

“Do you have some sort of an aversion to this one?”

“No,” Ronald leaned back in his seat, taking the wine as it was offered. “I’d just hoped you’d join me for a drink.”

Sebastian didn’t move. He stood stiffly by the side of the chair, still holding the bottle and eyeing Ronald as though expecting some sort of punch line. When none came Sebastian smiled in mock politeness and said, “I’d rather not.”

“Ahhh,” Ronald groaned dramatically and cast his eyes to the ceiling, although the response was nothing less than what he expected. “So this is Phantomhive hospitality.”

The jab worked. Sebastian stiffened at Ronald’s lament. Even through the dim light Ronald could see his conflicting desires battling with each other. No demon would never have accepted to join a reaper for a casual drink, but the butler Sebastian Michaelis was bound by his own moral code to take care of his master’s guests. Eventually, and evidently much to Sebastian’s own distaste, the butler won over and Sebastian lowered himself stiffly onto the other seat.

“Was there a matter you wished to discuss?”

“Not particularly,” Ronald took a sip of the wine. It was good. Great even.

“Then I can assume this is just a bid to torment me?”

Ronald couldn’t contain his guilty grin. “Do you enjoy playing the role of a servant,” he said instead.

“Of course I do,” Sebastian said, “What kind of butler would I be if I didn’t take pride in my work?”

“A normal one probably.”

“Do not belittle my profession Knox. Not just anyone can become a butler.” He smiled thinly, “Unlike your profession.”

Ronald knew he shouldn’t rise to the jab, but his mouth betrayed him. “Dispatch positions are highly sought after,” he retorted.

Anyone who didn’t know Sebastian would have thought that his smile indicated he was impressed by this statement. Ronald, however, knew when he was being patronised. “You are so good at your job too. Why, the Campania incident was a resounding success was it not? You suppressed the undead, caught your deserter and—ah, apologies.” Sebastian paused long enough to smile a smile that could only have belonged to a demon. “I cannot say anymore. I’m not supposed to tell lies you see.”

“Very funny,” Ronald said monotonously. He took a long drink of wine, just so that he’d have something to do with his hands, then twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers. “While we’re on the subject of people who can’t to their jobs,” he added, the humour in his voice faltering, “The earl doesn’t know what he’s doing, does he?”

Sebastian sighed in a needlessly melodramatic way. “I admit, he doesn’t seem as sure as he has in the past. He has lost one of his main contacts in the underworld, so he’s trying to over compensate for his loss.”

“The Undertaker?” Ronald asked. Following the Campania incident they’d all been briefed on what was known of the deserter’s actions in the human world. Much to William’s displeasure, Sutcliff’s time illegally undercover had helped their knowledge along admirably, but there were still major gaps in their collective knowledge. Why exactly had he deserted? And more importantly, what was he planning to do with his ability to raise the dead?

“Indeed. He played informant to our previous investigations and was our single most useful contact. The young master’s other contacts have their uses when the time calls for them, but not so much in this case.”

“Can’t you just investigate yourself.”

“Ah.” Sebastian’s lips curled into a skeletal grin. “I couldn’t possibly. I am but his pawn. I can only move where he places me. Besides,” Sebastian picked a microscopic piece of lint off his sleeve, “I enjoy watching him flounder.”

“That’s kinda messed up.”

“I am a demon Knox.”

Ronald hadn’t forgotten the fact. Of course he hadn’t. But somehow the reminder had him shudder, as though he'd somehow thought Sebastian would be more intent on hiding the fact. He took a sip of his wine to distract himself, then set the glass steadily on the arm of his chair. “True. How could I forget you’re incapable of compassion?”

“How cold of you Knox,” Sebastian said with mock hurt, “I’ll have you know my friends say I’m a very compassionate person.”

“You have friends?”

Sebastian hesitated. “Well,” he said, “There is Agni.”

“And?”

He tutted. “Alright. Friend then. It’s all semantics.”

As surprised as he was that a demon was capable of maintaining the sort of affection and compassion required in a friendship Ronald couldn’t help but take the bait. “Are you trying to tell me that over however many hundreds of years you’ve been alive you’ve only ever had one friend?”

“Are you jealous Knox?”

“Jealous?” Ronald scoffed. “Of having one friend? No, trust me. I’m really not.”

“You could be my friend.” The suggestion might have been sweet had it not been accompanied by that sardonic smile of his.

“I have enough friends thanks.”

Ronald was sure he imagined the flash of disappointment that momentarily crossed Sebastian’s face. It was gone before he’d even had time to notice it, so it quickly fell from his mind.

“So I’m going to guess your current order is to try and squeeze information out of me, right?” Ronald said, pretending to pay more attention to the stem of his glass than at the demon before him.

“Perhaps.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“I admit not as well as I hoped.” He was still smiling. Christ, why was he still smiling? “But I haven’t played my queen yet.”

Ronald wondered whether Sebastian was aware that not everything in life could be explained through chess metaphors.

“Alright I’ll bite. What’s your queen?”

Sebastian’s eyes raked slowly up and down the length of Ronald’s body. Ronald was sure that his penetrating gaze could see something else, something deeper. He found himself shivering under the scrutiny and shifted deeper into his seat, hoping that single extra inch of space between them would somehow protect him.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Sebastian said in a low voice. His words were like oil, slick in Ronald’s ears. Part of him already knew what Sebastian meant, and part of him was desperate to find out for himself. To open up, to relinquish all resistance. To submit to him, and let Sebastian take whatever he wanted regardless of the cost.

Ronald tore himself from the glamour and downed the rest of his drink, the harsh tang of the alcohol grounding him back into reality.

“Can you not do that?”

“Do what?” Sebastian’s face was the picture of perfect innocence.

“That…” Ronald waved his hand in a circle in Sebastian’s direction, “That demon shit.”

“Most don’t notice,” Sebastian admitted. He didn’t break eye contact, there was no bashful repentance, but his state took on a new quality, as though he was studying Ronald properly, analysing him. This made Ronald more uncomfortable still, but at least he no longer felt the urge to lie back and let the demon consume him.

“Most aren’t reapers,” Ronald countered.

“A fair point,” he grinned, eyes shining through the darkness, “Does that mean that if you were human you’d be under my control by now?”

“I wouldn’t push it.” Ronald slid his empty glass across the table. Sebastian moved to refill it but Ronald put his hand up to stop him. “Leave it. I’m going to bed.”

“So soon?”

“I have to rest up for a big day of investigating,” Ronald said. “Or whatever it is we’ve been doing.”

“Frankly I’m always surprised that your kind requires sleep.”

Ronald didn’t know what Sebastian meant by ‘always,’ but he had a sneaking suspicion Sebastian wanted him to ask, so he ignored it.”Yeah well we can’t all be like you.” He stood up and stretched with a yawn, uncomfortably aware of Sebastian’s eyes lingering on him. “You know you can leave at any time,” Ronald added.

Sebastian rose from his seat, his face painted with one of his unreadable professional smiles that could have meant anything. “Do you not need assistance?”

“I think I can manage to get to bed on my own.” Ronald yawned and cut across Sebastian, opening the door for him. He realised too late that this was precisely Sebastian’s job, and Ronald’s chivalry was clearly the source of some amusement. But luckily, Sebastian declined to speak on the matter. He merely slipped through the doorway and bowed, his smile professional, with only a fraction of mockery. That was an improvement.

“If you need anything at all do not hesitate to call again.”

Anything at all. Ronald wondered how far he could push that. He suspected Sebastian really did mean it. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Then I bid you goodnight.” Sebastian stepped away before stopping once more. “Try not to be late for breakfast again,” he added before he slid away and vanished down the hall.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebron #ronald knox #sebastian michaelis #fanfiction

[starstruck-thirst]

Crimson Dance Card

Illumi Zoldyck: Part 1 ‘A Waltz Macabre’

Part 2: A Dangerous Foxtrot

Warnings: dead body (super tame wow)

The avant-garde music flowed through the large ballroom with a mellow serenity that only top dollar could buy. Anywhere in the large, rectangular room the listeners were greeted by the pleasant sounds. If even one column had been built out of place, spots of deafened music would ruin the atmosphere.

Crème walls helped spread the low light, aiding in the high-class atmosphere. It was as rich as silk cake, and twice as decadent. And it bored you.

This was the third party you had to attend this week, though by far and large it was the most lavish. Naturally it had to be since it was the last party of the weekend, and no respectable man of this much wealth would be outdone. The taste of the alcoholic drinks that came around on silver trays only added to the sense of how much he felt compelled to swing his pride in the face of others.

Women laughed in a corner nearby, talking most likely of the attending gentlemen or perhaps another lady’s embarrassment. Having been to so many of these parties your entire life you could almost recite word for word what they would be saying without hearing any of it.

The song ended, and polite applause rose throughout the room by those that deemed that particular song worthy of praise. Hardly ever did every hand clap, sometimes people wouldn’t clap all night as they turned their nose up at the poor performers in their incomparable righteousness.

Briefly, you considered that actual death would be more pleasing than continuing with this party.

But- ever dutiful in your own role in this elaborate game- you instead took a fresh drink from a passing tray, sipped it, and moved deeper into the ballroom. A new song began, and several attendees switched from the sidelines to the center floor to show off their pretty clothes and well-bred dancing. You skirted along the edge of the dance circle, being careful to not touch anyone as you went. Just the slightest brush against shoulders could draw attention to you and force you into a conversation you didn’t really want.

You were looking into each face you passed. Just a flick of your eyes, again to not create a conversation, in a vain attempt to find someone that you could speak with that didn’t make you want to slit your own wrist.

You had only made it a quarter of the way around the floor, skirts hardly even brushing another person as you went, before you slipped up and your shoulder met another. You were confused at the impact. How had you hit someone else, when there hadn’t been anyone there?

The force of the bump wasn’t much, but in this social circle it was enough to warrant a harsh word about carelessness- or be mistaken for some form of forward advance. Surely, you were in for a most unwanted conversation now.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” you confessed, cursing yourself as it sounded like the most cliché opening into a flirt you had ever heard.

The tall man did a quarter turn to look at you and your breath caught. Unmistakably, he was beautiful. His hair was pitch black, long, and pulled into a ponytail that moved with his turn in a way that seemed surreal. His eyes were nearly as dark, and it felt as if they could see completely through you.

He looked you over once, in a manner that was socially acceptable but made your breath catch for a moment. “It’s fine. Are you alright?” It was so simply said, but just that taste of his words made you want to hear him speak more.

It had been trained into your mind to always consider your looks, how else would you ever attract a suitable partner, but in this moment you were hyper aware of how your limbs were posed and how each strand of hair fell around your face.

“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” you replied, keeping your tone normal and conversational.

Once more, eyes looked you over with a quiet consideration. He must have come to some conclusion as he turned his body completely to you, did a polite bow, and offered out his gloved hand. “No, you haven’t. I am Illumi.”

You placed your hand into his and introduced yourself as he brought your hand to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said righting himself once more and letting your hand slip from his own. He paused thinking over something, head tilted just a little to one side as he did so. “Your surname. Your father owns a large pharmaceutical company.”

Managing not to sigh at the mere mention of your family’s line of work, you nodded. “Yes. It has been in my family for many generations.”

“Are you here for that reason?”

You chuckled. “Unfortunately. It’s part of my duty to my family to come to these things. Especially when my father doesn’t have the time. But I’m the eldest child so, it is to be expected.”

Illumi nodded, and you got the sense that he completely understood. “I’m sure there is a lot of responsibility.”

A feeling of something washed over you. You had never felt it before, so it was hard to identify. Relief at being understood? A warm sincerity at a genuine conversation? “It is. Sometimes it’s a bit suffocating. But you have to do what you can for your family, right?”

The song ended behind you and you turned to clap politely. You hadn’t heard much of it to be honest, but you needed the distraction to regain your full composure. Something about this man made you uncomfortable. But not unpleasantly so.

“Understood,” he said behind you.

You looked back at him, confused who he was speaking to. A tall man with silver hair in a matching black suit to Illumi’s was walking away from him and towards the conversation hall.

“Is everything alright?” you asked gaining his attention once more.

“Yes, everything is perfectly fine. Would you mind letting me take me this dance?” he asked, doing another polite bow.

It felt so sudden compared to how the conversation was flowing, but for once you actually wanted to dance. You set your glass down on a passing waiter’s tray before responding, “You may,” with an appropriate curtsy.

Illumi took your hand and led you to the dance floor. You hadn’t been paying attention to the pattern of the songs played so far, so it was somewhat embarrassing when the beginnings of a slow waltz started to slip over the room.

As if he had done this a million times, Illumi gripped your left hand gently and pulled you closer to rest his right on your waist. Your own hands reacted instinctively: your left going to his arm and your right clutching his hand with enough force that you wouldn’t slip away on the turns.

While you weren’t yet touching bodies, you still felt a slight tingle up your spine at being so close as the song swelled, and the actual dance began. You had been trained to dance from a young age, every type of song that could be possibly played in proper society, but this felt new somehow. Illumi led you in the dance with a level of cool elegance you envied, each step falling perfectly with the music.

His arms pulled you into his pace, turning you around sharply and causing your thighs to touch for the briefest of moments before the polite distance was regained. Usually you could dance with little thought, but an idle part of your brain thought about each step and how to make it as accurate as possible. But not this dance.

Your mind was as swept away as your feet. Each turn of your bodies was almost a surprise, and you lost track of where you were as you stared into his large eyes that never left your face. When he lifted his arm and spun you for the first time you felt a spike of thrill. The world blurred; crème, white, light, and faces all becoming a smear across your vision. When he caught you mid rotation, his arm wrapped around your waist to steady your feet, you almost sighed.

Illumi rotated you outward before pulling you close once more, continuing the circling dance around the floor. You held your breath unknowingly as he manipulated your movements. Another rotation that pulled your legs to his, chests pressed together before coming apart again. It all made you somewhat dizzy.

You had never gotten dizzy during a dance before.

The music picked up. Tempo increasing at a steady pace with the rising volume and Illumi matched it.

Another twirl.

More rotations.

An oversway turn.

Your hand slid up his forearm and back to the shoulder as you returned to your position in his arms. The moves were all streaming together seamlessly, and Illumi’s face showed no signs of it being difficult.

The song was almost over, somehow five minutes had passed as you whipped around the floor.

Illumi spun you once more. This time he caught you with your back to his right arm, his left hand on your waist. He held you tightly, and you barely had a moment to plant a foot to the ground before he dropped you into a backwards dip. Even taken by complete surprise, you had the thought to balance yourself by keeping your left arm on top of his shoulder and your right hand around the back of his neck. Your body was crossed over the front of his as he looked down at you in what- very suddenly- felt like an intimate move.

The quick rise and fall of your chest gave away how breathless you felt, though you managed to not audibly pant. All at once the rest of the world came back into focus around Illumi. The other dancers moving apart, the hands clapping for the orchestra.

With a swift movement, Illumi righted you onto your feet once more. His left hand slipped from your waist to your right hand as he did the final bow. Working on pure trained habit, you curtsied in response, bowing your head as was customary. You hadn’t wanted to look away. Especially because- and you couldn’t have been sure- but it almost had appeared that he smiled just a little right at the end.

Keeping your hand in his, he led you back towards the watching crowd. You hoped that your hand wasn’t sweaty.

“Thank you for the dance,” you said after you two were safely on the sidelines once more.

Illumi nodded, and though you could only see his side his profile you were sure this time that his lips turned into the tiniest smile. “You’re welcome. You were an ideal dance partner.”

He released your hand and looked into the crowd as if distracted. “Illumi?” you asked.

“Sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew,” he replied, still looking into the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming!” A loud male voice echoed throughout the room now that it was devoid of music. You turned to see a tall, skinny man standing where the orchestra had just been playing from. He was recognizable from his pictures, though you had never met him personally, as Vojtech Feliks.

A few times you had attended his parties, but he very rarely made appearances at them. He was notorious for keeping his distance from groups of people so his blatant show tonight was unnerving. “I thank you all for attending this party, and I am sure several of you are curious as to what the occasion might be that I would finally address you all directly.”

On cue a beautiful woman with blue hair stepped up next to Vojtech. Her hands were clasped in front of her and a small smile in place like the perfect doll. Vojtech started to announce his engagement, but you hadn’t really heard much of it as you felt Illumi next to you slip away.

Trying to not draw attention to yourself, you slowly turned your head to catch sight of where he might be going. It took most of Vojtech’s speech to finally spot Illumi as he left the ballroom for the conversation hall beyond. No one really seemed to pay much attention to his going other than you.

“Please! Feel free to drink me dry and celebrate my wonderful luck at finding the perfect woman!” Finally, the speech ended as the entire room applauded for the first time. Half of the orchestra returned to the platform and began playing a more energetic song as Vojtech and his fiancé exited.

Bodies began moving about once more and you took the opportunity to slowly slip your way around them towards the conversation hall. It took you longer than you would have wanted, but you emerged into the much less crowded space in time to see Illumi’s hair and coat tails disappear around a doorway.

It struck you as odd that he would be going anywhere that wasn’t exclusively designated for guests, yet something inside of you demanded that you push forward.

The elaborate food tables served as adequate distraction to the other guests, and no one seemed to notice you as you slipped through the door in question. Closing it firmly behind you to hide your trespassing as much as possible.

A hallway with many doors stretched out before you. A door on the right far ahead opened and you held your breath, pushing yourself to one wall behind a decorative statue. “I can go to my office alone, thank you, Ptah,” Vojtech’s firm voice chided before shutting the door he had come through. It must have been a short cut from the ballroom you surmised as Vojtech adjusted his suit jacket with a heavy sigh. “A man can’t go anywhere without someone breathing down his neck.”

You could barely see him around the statue as he moved across the hallway to another door on the opposite wall and disappeared inside. You counted to five before daring to move again, creeping slow enough to keep your footsteps as quiet as possible, towards the door.

Briefly you wondered why you were doing this. Why had you followed Illumi? Why where you still following Vojtech? None of this had anything to do with you.

But you realized that for once you were at a party and you didn’t feel like literally dying of boredom. You felt alive, excited, curious. You had to know what was going on in this isolated hallway.

Vojtech had been sloppy and the door was open a crack to reveal a sliver of the office that laid beyond. Being very careful to not even breath loudly you peered through, listening closely for any sounds from inside. But it was completely quiet. No footsteps, no more complaining, not even the rustle of papers on a desk.

Gently you placed your hand on the door, pushing it a little more open until you stopped seeing an arm slung over the desk top. You were sure it as Vojtech’s from the size and color, plus who else could it be?

Caught off guard by the sight you gasped, putting a hand to your mouth to try and quiet yourself too late.

The door opened completely, and you took a step back as if it would free you of your obvious guilt. Illumi came around the open door, eyes looking directly at you as if he had known exactly where you would be when he did so.

You looked from Illumi to the slumped body of Vojtech. There was no doubt in your mind that he was no longer living. And that same feeling that had forced you to follow Illumi without turning back pushed you one more time as you entered into the office, passing him in silence.

“Is he dead?” you asked stopping short of the desk.

There was no response for many seconds before he finally responded, “Yes.”

 “Oh,” you replied. “Did you kill him?”

You could feel Illumi come to your side, the same way you had sensed his presence moving without looking at him before. Somehow you knew he was looking at you. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

It was a new feeling again, for the second time that night. You didn’t feel sadness or any sense of empathy for the man that was growing whiter by the moment. “Illumi, you never told me your last name.”

“Zoldyck.”

That explained everything. Everyone knew that last name, especially if you had money. Illumi was an assassin.

“Are you afraid?”

You tilted your head at the question. How to describe how you felt? “No. It’s all just business.” Now you looked at him.

He was watching you closely, dark eyes taking in each of your movements. “That is correct.”

“Will you kill me too?”

He thought a moment. “If I said yes, would you be scared then?”

“No.”

The smile that came this time was the most genuine. “I haven’t been paid to kill you. So, no. I’m not going to kill you.”

You wondered what it would be like to be murdered, more so you wondered what it would be like for Illumi to be the one to do it. “I see.”

“How long were you following me?”

You had looked back to Vojtech’s body once more, trying to figure out still what it was you felt. “Shortly after you entered the hallway. I watched Vojtech come into the room.”

Illumi made a ‘hm’ in thought but whatever he might have said next was interrupted when a very quiet noise rang out. Reaching into his coat he retrieved a cellphone and answered it. “Yes. I will meet you outside.”

He hung up the phone and put it back into his jacket as he turned to exit the room. You followed his movements, watching the way his body moved with perfect poise. You didn’t know what to say, but you wanted to grab his arm and say something.

“You’ll want to leave this room before one of his body guards finds him,” Illumi warned when he reached the door.

“I’ll go a few seconds after you,” you confirmed. Was he concerned about you getting pinned for the murder? Was it friendly advice?

He stopped with one foot out the door to look back at you. “I enjoyed our dance. You were an ideal partner.”

“I’m always willing to give you another,” you responded with a smile. Extruding all of your normal confidence again, despite the dead body behind you and the murderer in front.

Illumi nodded. “Maybe, one day I will ask again.”

Then he was gone. You didn’t even see him move from the doorway this time, no flash of coat tails as he went. Nothing. He was just gone.

You kept your word, counting slowly to fifteen in your head you left the room and quietly shut the door behind you. You still felt nothing about seeing a dead body, but many other things about the mysterious Zoldyck assassin.

Once back in the communication hall the noise of conversation blasted your ears and you went forward with a satisfied smile.

Someone called your name, and you stopped as the man approached you to ask for a dance. Not caring to keep a polite façade, you didn’t even look at him in response. “No, thank you. I believe I have had the best dance possible. And it would be a shame to dirty the memory with one that wouldn’t come close to measuring up.”

If the man looked visibly shocked you didn’t know, nor care, as you continued your way back to the dance hall in search of another silver tray of drinks.

You had danced with an agent death, and now you only wanted more.

#illumi zoldyck// #hunter x hunter// #someone wanted some sweet green tea? #I didn't want to prattle on forever about dance moves #so if you know how to dance know that I kept it simple and short for the sake of fiction #character x reader #star fic #crimson dance card #star fic series

[5-secondsofcolor]

The New Year

Note: This is one of the first fics I’ve ever written and the first one I’ve ever published anywhere. I’m far from an amazing writing but part of my new years resolution is practicing and gaining confidence in writing. It’s a little clunky so, please, feel free to leave me feedback! K, thank you for reading.

Warnings: Some swearing? None really.

-----

Calum’s family decide to stay through New Years; David’s freshly retired, Joy is more than happy to spend more time with Cal, and Mali’s just along for the ride this year. They tell Calum not to fret, to enjoy his new year as he planned but he can't leave them.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, he realizes what he's got to do. Introduce Laura to his family. It's not like they weren't friends before, he's known her more than a year, and she's not a secret to anyone. The issue is that they still find themselves in an in-between. What've they got? Monogamy? Yep. Sleepovers? Yeah. Weekends away? A few here and there with a final one planned to close off the year. A New Year's cabin trip just for two. Well they had to reschedule that one.

Joy quickly throws together a dinner, inviting Ashton, Luke, and Michael and his parents, of course. She’s happy to get them together for dinner again, anytime with the boys together is special for her. Knowing they’ll be there has also brought some relief to Laura; she’s still getting to know Luke and Ash but Michael and her get along like a house on fire. Rapidly pairing together at parties and clubs they're dragged out to, there’s a comfortable understanding that they’ve got one another’s back.

Nervousness grips Laura on December 30th, a full day before it needs to. She tries on outfit after outfit trying to find something good enough to meet his family in. Suddenly there's an issue with every item in her closet, it's either too small or too large, too formal or too frumpy, long story short it's all fucking wrong. Then she finds it, a maroon wrap dress buried in the back of her closet. It’s not perfect but it'll work. Now, what in the world does she bring to this thing?

--

“Laura, this is Mali. Mali this is Laura, we've..umm been dating.” Calum says quickly introducing them.

From the corner of her eye, Laura sees a shit eating grin break out on Ashton's face; he's rooting for them, she knows it, but he also finds it extraordinarily amusing that Calum's found someone so similar to himself. both of them said “fuck love” until they found one another. Ashton can see the change in Calum, the way he's stopped saying it in interviews, so now he's just waiting for the day they announce its official.

“It's great to finally meet you.” Mali says ignoring Laura's extended hand and going in for a hug. “I love this dress. The color looks amazing on your skin.” She notes.

“It's great to meet you, too. Calum talks about you so much, it's great to put a face to the name.”

Dinner starts without a hitch. Laura can see why Calum told her to bring drinks; Joy has covered the table in food, cooking every dish she could. After a quick speech from Calum and Joy, everyone digs in. The boys dominate the conversation, Ashton and Luke fighting to give Joy updates of their lives in-between bites.

Luke’s also met a girl this year, he tells Joy all about her, unfortunately, she’s away for the New Year but soon they’ll go to Australia to meet his mom. Ashton goes off about his new project, something about photography or was it film? He’s got so many it’s hard for everyone to keep up from time to time.

“Laura, what do you do for a living?” Joy asks trying to bring her into the conversation.

“Ma, I'm sure she doesn't want to talk about work.”

“It's ok, Cal. I work part-time conducting demographic research at a marketing firm and I work freelance for a few local companies, setting up their online marketing and consulting. I like to write a lot on the side but it'll be a while before that's making me any money.”

“If you keep writing the way you have with Calum, you’re gonna be a songwriter soon enough,” Michael adds hardly lifting his face from his plate.

“Are you a singer?” Mali asks.

“Oh no," She shakes her head. Laura's tone-deaf at best but editing runs in her veins. "I write more poetry than anything but I give feedback to Cal’s writing sometimes.”

Joy gives her a soft smile before Luke grabs back the attention. For once, Laura's grateful for his and Ashton's larger personalities. They feed off one another as they continue telling stories of their last tour and their new album. They miss Joy almost as much as they miss their own mothers. Laura can see why, Joy’s genuine pride at all they've got going on is infectious.

Laura feels herself relax as dinner goes on. All the dialogues slowly bleed into one, allowing her to sit and observe for a moment. Her favorite pastime, watching how enthusiastically people speak about things they’re passionate about. There’s always a glimmer in Luke’s eyes when he speaks about love. Ashton’s smile never breaks from his lips and his gestures get even larger. Mali, much like Calum, smiles wide when she’s happy making her eyes small as happiness takes over her face.

“So how'd you meet?” Mali asks as she finishes a story.

The table falls silent as everyone pauses. Joy and David look inquisitively as Michael snickers. He swears his phone call set their entire relationship in motion.

“I lost my phone outside a coffee shop and this one found it,” Calum explains briefly. Laura nods in agreement but everyone turns to her, waiting for her side.

“Honestly, that's it. I found his phone, held onto it until he came to pick it up, and we kinda just started having coffee together. It had to have been almost a year ago? Right after your birthday. I didn't let him buy me a coffee the day I found it so he came back a week later, and he bought me a coffee then. Let's be honest, he just wanted an excuse to grab the best coffee in this area.” Laura teases rolling her eyes in Calum's direction. “He started joining me while I worked once or twice a week and we unintentionally started a little writing club.”

The entire time Laura speaks, Joy’s eyes are trained on Calum. He holds her hand under the table while he listens attentively, his eyes never leaving her. For years she's been worried, they haven't heard a peep out of Calum about anyone until Laura. There's hardly a peep about her but the few times she's come up there's been excitement in his voice. A little peace comes to her seeing him try in love again.

Ashton and Luke are off after dinner, heading out to some parties. Laura and Calum are up first to volunteer go do the dishes. Laura starts a quiet playlist before taking her usual spot of scrubber beside Calum. Joy runs in occasionally, finding random dishes to hand them. They work slowly on purpose. Calum sings to her and places gentle kisses on her temple as they bask in the silence, enjoying the small amount of time stolen away in the kitchen. The dishes hardly feel like a chore as they playfully lean into one another, a gentle reminder that the other is there.

There's no questioning the feeling they have; it's love but logic says it’s too soon. Neither of them can fully wrap their head around it. There's something different about their love. There's no madness, no crazy proclamations are needed, nobody will be shouting it from rooftops. Much like them, their love is silent, it's found only by those who'll take the time to observe.

“Want to break open that Christmas whiskey and have a quick drink in the backyard?” Laura dries off her hand on a kitchen towel.

“I'd love to,” Calum says grabbing two glasses and a bottle Laura's gifted him as they sneak into the backyard.

Calum hands Laura a drink and watches her in the soft light. She's got a way about her; from the day they met it's kept her coming up in his mind. The girl in the coffee shop with her work scattered about, a simple way of romanticising everyday, and her smile? It's out of this word. The only reason why he left that day was a phone call. Had Michael not called him, where would the conversation have gone? Two, three, four times she came to mind the weekend after they met and Calum knew he had to befriend her. He wasn't sure what she'd be but it wasn't a “What if?” he was going to live with. With nothing but hope, he showed up to the same coffee shop a week later, sat at the same table, and for once let fate take the reigns.

“Happy almost New Years, guy I’m dating,” Laura says taking the glass.

“Happy almost New Year, phone sitter.”

They clink their glasses together. Does she make everyone feel that way? Like they're the center of the universe. She says something but all he can focus on is the need to hold her in his arms, to run his fingertips over her beautiful brown skin. He takes her drink and places it down before pulling her into him. She'll bring up the lack of attention later but, right now, he just wants her close. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder, as they sway to the music pouring into the backyard. Unbeknownst to them, Mali and Joy are peaking into the backyard from a window.

“Dad, look. They're absolutely precious.”

“Window’s open, Mal.” Calum says. Laura hides her face in his chest, her face warming quickly.

“Shit. Sorry, guys!”

“Y'all want some whiskey? It's fancy stuff I got Cal for Christmas.” Laura calls into the house.

With that, David’s off the couch and joining them in the backyard. They all settle outside together. Laura dipping her feet into the heated pool and Mali joins her after a moment. They talk about living in London for a while. Laura recalls the winter she spent abroad in London and Mali adds her own humid summer horror stories. Soon Joy joins them too. She takes the cake telling them of the Australian summers of her youth. Summers hot enough that the pavement would melt the soles of her shoes. Her children call her a liar but Joy presses on. David and Karen corroborating her stories until the kids concede.

The stories continue, everyone sitting around listening to David, Joy, and Karen reminisce on years passed. Memories of the kid's childhoods are traded back and forth until they intersect and begin to overlap. Karen and Joy meeting for the first time, the boys starting the band, having their sons follow insane dreams, and the bouts of sadness that can be found in all the joys of their success. Karen and Joy give Laura the whole story or at least they give it a shot as midnight approaches.

Midnight comes and brings with it hugs and kisses, the sounds of clanking of crystal, and explosions off in the distance as they ring in new opportunities. All of them stay outside watching the fireworks go off and chatting for a little longer.

The whole world’s alight but Calum can only see Laura, the world doesn’t matter. This is the New Year but the only thing that makes him feel any different is standing beside him, staring up at the night sky. The whole year came down to a few points and it’s taken him until now to realize the fateful day he dropped his phone was a one. Fate making sure he took pause long enough to see her and, now, he knows he’ll keep an eye out.

--

“Ok. Ashton had told me you two were cute but she's amazing. Please tell me you're taking her seriously.” Mali says the second Calum returns from walking Laura to her car.

“Mal… please no.”

“Calum, are you serious? You're in love, she's in love, there's basically turtle doves hovering around you.”

“Mali, that's enough.”

Giving her a stern look, he takes the last of the leftovers into the kitchen. He settles onto the kitchen island, helping his mother tidy the kitchen. She sworn by the superstition for years: a tidy house at New Years means a tidy house all year.

Calum knows Mali’s right but fear is louder. Laura terrifies him. Even when they were simply friends, there was so much that began to lead back to her. Writing, happiness, home -- all began to lead back to her and he doesn't want to fight it. He wants to share them with her and it's a feeling that's only gotten stronger in the last few months. But it all boils down to a game of risk. What if he gets too comfortable and she leaves? What if this leads to nothing but new heartbreak? Will this become another reminder to not fall in love?

“Baby, what’s on your mind?” Joy asks, seeing Calums face twist as he runs through all his thoughts.  

“How’d you know dad was the one?” Calum asks, settling on the kitchen island as she packs away the last of the leftovers.

“Dad is the one. I know because, in the harder moments, he always stays. It’s easy to love someone through the good but when things get hard and people pull away, when life wedges in all the reasons to leave, and he chooses to stay, that’s when I know he's the right one.”

Calum nods and stays silent for a moment.

“Laura’s something special isn’t she?”

“She is. It just all came so suddenly, I wasn’t expecting it, mum.”

“Sometimes it’s not about what you’re expecting but about what life knows you’re ready for.” Joy says packing away the last of the leftovers. “Goodnight, baby. Happy New Years.”

“Goodnight, mum. I love you.”

---

The next morning Calum’s hardly slept, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He grabs Duke before going out for a cigarette. He's surprised to find Mali already in the backyard with her writing journal.  

“Good morning.” She coos down at Duke.

“Good morning." He settles beside her and thinks for a moment, "I'm sorry I was short with you last night.”

“It's fine, Calum.” She tries to wave him off, figuring the issue wasn't her.

“No, it wasn't. I'm sorry. It's just… I just don't know how to speak about Laura.” He shrugs unable to find the words even hours later. “Mali, I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I feel stupid not rushing in. It's like when we started the band, my gut’s just saying it's right.”

“Then what's holding you back?”

“I can't… I don't think I could make it if this…isn't real.” Calum says slowly. Unsure of how to voice his fear.

“Cal, I know it's scary to take a leap but if the feelings that strong, listen to it. Just from what I saw yesterday, I think she's on the same page as you  Remember, you'll always have Ash and I, too.”

It's the final push he needs, the most important women in his life have his back. With a sigh, he finds the resolve to see her. He doesn't have a plan but he can't hold all the emotions in any longer. Calum pulls up her contact and dials her number. Knowing full well she's not a morning person, he hopes she's already awake.

“Bueno?”

“Morning, beautiful.” Calum says, rolling his eyes as Mali holds her heart and gives him a silent ‘awwwww’.

“Hola, cariño.”

“What're you doing?”

“Umm writing.” Laura admits, her cheeks burning. She's been caught in that act. In a mad attempt to capture even the smallest part of the way he's making her feel, she's spent the morning writing about him. She's hoping to silence the ruckus in her mind, so much so that she's up early. She's unsuccessful, truthfully, it seems that the only thing that truly silences her thoughts doubles as their source.  

“Mind if I come over? Just for a little.”

“Yeah, I have something for you.” Laura admits, rolling her lips between her teeth.

“Do you? Well then I can't show up empty handed, how does some Nautical Bean sound?” He can't help the smile breaking across his face.

Laura laughs lightly, “That sounds freaking amazing and that way I'll hopefully get this done before you get here.”

“Mm, I can't wait to read it. I'll see you soon. Bye.” Calum says as he hangs up.

“Mal, tell-”

“Tell mum and dad you'll be back soon. Yeah, yeah. Go on now!” She shoos.

Before he knows it, Calum's got their coffees and he's running up the steps two at a time. He knocks softly before letting himself in.

“Hi.” Hey says breathlessly.

Every bit of nervousness leaves his body as he sees her sitting on her couch. A large blanket drapes around her shoulders while she works on her laptop. These are his favorite moments to share with her. When both of them quietly working on something, happy not to go at it alone. He settles in beside her, waiting for a moment while she finishes her work.

"G'morning, bub." She says with a smile, placing her laptop down on the coffee table. “Thank you for the coffee”

“Ok now I gotta hold up my end of this deal,” Laura says opening to a page in the small journal before handing it over to him. “I know I said you aren't allowed to read my personal journals but today's an exception,” He wants to say something but the words stick together, creating a lump in his throat. They share a knowing look, her journal is everything to her. It's her best friend holding the pieces she's afraid to share. He's holding a piece of her heart. She gives him a nervous smile as he starts to read an entry from the night previous.

“These hands have held me in another lifetime.

I can't explain it. Not fully, not even in parts.

I don't understand it, yet it is.

The same way birds fly, it looks impossible, improbable, yet they take flight every day so it must be.

I see it just the same with us.

Neruda’s poems make sense, they're clear in a way I've never known.

Paths are simpler as the future comes with one piece set.

I am not afraid to get my heart broken by you.

Maybe it's foolish, stupid, reckless but something in these hollow bones of mine tells me to take flight.

Tell me, do I sound insane?”

Calum reads the paper twice over; his heart feels ready to burst. He clears his throat, finally finding words to say.

"Well, that makes things a lot easier,” Calum says quickly closing the distance between them and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. He feels a smile grow on her lips as she pulls away. He shakes his head, knowing he can't possibly top her writing, "Last year, your friendship alone meant the world to me. You were there patiently through the worst parts of it and I don't think I could've asked for anything else from you. I hope I returned the favor through your rougher moments. Through the good and the bad we fell into something more that has been an absolute gift to me. I know it won't always be this smooth. I know there'll be days where things are off, when I'm gone and we both feel alone, where we'll both struggle but that's ok. Even in the bad days, I'll still hope it's you I get to love. I don't want any of this, the bad or the good, with anyone else but you. Te quiero mucho. Did I say that right?”

“Yeah.” She whispers, eyes brimming with tears. Without a second thought, she takes back her journal, and careful tears out the page and hands it to him.

"How does the first of the month sound to you?" Calum asks folding the paper carefully before placing it into his wallet.

"For what?"

"To start celebrating anniversaries?"

"Sounds good." She says pulling him in for another kiss.

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos fanfic #5sos fam #calum hood #ch #calum #calum hood imagine #ashton irwin #ai #ashton #ashton irwin imagines #my-writing #michael clifford #my writing #mc #michael clifford imagines #5sos #5 sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5sos fanction

[mercurykelly]

Day Five -- A long-held goal realized: Mesa Verde

Up close and personal -- my first view of Cliff Palace

I’m up early, hoping to arrive at the park as soon as it opens at 8 AM.  After luxuriating in my hot tub last night, I washed out a few items and hung them to dry.  I am now shocked to find that all of these items dried overnight.  It would take two or maybe three days for them to dry under similar circumstances in Seattle.  I cleverly deduce that this area must be very dry indeed. (Continue reading below.)

Cliff Palace from an overlook

Balcony House through a telescope

Spruce Tree House

DAY FIVE -- A long-held goal realized: Mesa Verde

I eat a quick bowl of oatmeal at Holiday Inn’s free breakfast and head out into a lovely sunny morning. I’ve wanted to visit Mesa Verde for more than 20 years and intend to devote this entire day to it. The last time I drove through here on my way to visit my sister and her new twin girls (who are about to turn 21, OMG)  I didn’t plan well enough and didn’t have time to tour the park, for which you need a  minimum of three hours to see anything at all.  I now plan to make up for that omission.  

I stop at the Park Entrance Station where I get in a short line to buy a ticket for a ranger-led tour. There are three tours listed: Cliff Palace, Balcony House and Long House, however today only the Cliff Palace tour is available.  Signs warn that the tour of Cliff Palace is very strenuous so I fret while waiting in line, worried that the tour might be more than I can handle.  When it’s my turn to talk to the ranger selling tickets, I ask for more details about the tour.  She tells me I will have to negotiate 4 ten-foot ladders and walk over uneven and rocky ground.  I reason (under my breath) that if I managed to climb to the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral only six months ago, I should be able to manage this.  

So you want a ticket? Yes, please.  I expect it to be expensive, but the price is just $5.00.  When I express surprise at the minimal fee, the ranger says, if you want to spend big money you can buy a tour from the private company that contracts out for us. She jerks her head in the direction of a desk manned by someone who does not appear to be a ranger.  I consider this option briefly, but per the sign these tours are long (nine hours!) and involve being driven around the park in a huge bus (I hate being a captive audience) so I decide to explore the rest of the park on my own after seeing the Cliff Palace.  

My tour is scheduled for 10:00 AM.  After selling me a ticket, the ranger says I have plenty of time to get there as long as I don’t dawdle – it’s an hour-long drive to the top of the mesa.  She gives me a map and marks the spot where the tour will begin.  An hour! Yikes.  I skip the exhibits and head out to my car.  

At the park entrance, I point to the senior pass hanging from my rear-view mirror and ask the ranger if she needs anything else.  At Canyonlands I was waved through on the strength of this pass, but at Mesa Verde I have to show an ID and submit my pass for close scrutiny.  I suppose this is an indication of how popular this park is – nothing is taken for granted.  

To get to the heart of the park, I now follow a road that winds 1500 feet up the side of the mesa. The elevation in Cortez is 6200 feet; now I will be climbing to over 8000.   The road to the top of the mesa must be taken slowly as it is very narrow with hairpin turns.  (For the first years of the park’s existence, this was a graded dirt, one-way road.  Before a vehicle started up the road to the top of the mesa, a telephone call (from a phone box at the bottom) made sure no one was on their way down, then all downwards traffic was held until the caller arrived at the top.  (I learned this fascinating fact by reading a book called “Our Trip to Mesa Verde 1922” that I purchased in the gift shop later.)

I drive straight to the meeting spot for the tour and am the first to arrive.  Due to a recent rockfall that has closed the usual entrance, our tour will enter Cliff Palace at the same place we exit.  Soon there are several of us waiting for the ranger to show up.  I strike up a conversation with a couple of women who appear to be about my age and mention the fact that I am traveling alone.  They are suitably impressed.  I show off a little: travel when you want, where you want, I say, and they nod appreciatively.  I briefly sketch out my route and mention that I stopped to see the Great Salt Lake. They want to know what I thought of it. The question feels loaded so I hedge a bit.  Well it seemed quite nice this time, but my last visit wasn’t quite as positive. (Trying to say both that I liked it and also that I didn’t, so I can take my cue from their reaction. But I never quite decide what they think of the lake or why they asked. I get a sense that they might live near Salt Lake and are not terribly impressed.)

They ask if I have any sunscreen, so I get some out of my car. Then I ask if they have any ibuprofen as the headache I woke up with is unrelenting.  They do.  It’s a good trade and there are smiles all round.  These brief friendly encounters are one of the best parts of travel.   (I realize later that I was probably suffering from low-grade altitude sickness during my stay in Cortez and Mesa Verde.  In spite of taking ibuprofen the headache stayed with me the entire day.)

Our tour guide shows up. At exactly 10 o’clock she leads us down a short trail to the ladders.  She tells us we will go down one by one and after descending we are to follow the path to the right and join her near the ruins where we will wait for everyone to climb down and join us.  There are four 10-foot ladders made out of rounded, bark-free, tourist-worn tree trunks about six inches in width and a yard long which although precipitous are fairly easy to negotiate.  I make the mistake of taking my walking sticks with me (because we were warned that we would have to traverse uneven ground) and they make my descent much clumsier, clanking against the rungs of the ladder and even getting caught up behind them. I have to move carefully and make sure every step is secure and the sticks make it difficult as it seems I am untangling them constantly.  Even with these issues, I’m not the slowest by any means, which is a relief. (Several are slower including a woman with acrophobia who takes so long to descend and needs so much help the ranger has to start the tour without her.)

After successfully negotiating the ladders I follow a well-worn trail around the rock face and suddenly the Cliff Palace ruins are before me – a sandstone city of towers, living and storage rooms, kivas and open work areas.   It looks just like the photos I’ve studied and for some reason this seems incredible – a long-treasured wish suddenly coming true.  After years of wanting to see this site now it’s right in front of me and I’m overwhelmed.

I find it impossible to see these structures and not also feel intrigued by the mysteries that can never be answered.  Why did these ancient people move from the top of the mesa where they had lived from AD 550 to AD 1200 and down into the cliffs? Why did they suddenly abandon the cliff dwellings in AD 1300, leaving behind many prized possessions such as mats, ceramic vessels and stores of food? There are many theories, but it is impossible to answer these questions definitively.  What an enigmatic and evocative place.  

Our ranger is knowledgeable and enthusiastic.  She tells us that Mesa Verde has been a national park since 1906 and that it was the first park established to protect cultural and archaeological treasures rather than natural wonders.  The archaeological sites needed protection as they were increasingly being plundered by travelers and explorers.  Even the man given credit for discovering the ruins – Richard Wetherill—is considered by some to be more plunderer than archaeologist.  

The ruins are empty now, their contents scattered across the country in museums.  It seems a shame that it isn’t possible to see the pottery and other artifacts in the place they originated.  I promise myself that I will visit some of these museums in the near future, to get a better feel for the people who lived here.

But at least the ruins remain.  Our guide tells us that Cliff Palace contains 150 rooms, 75 open areas, and 21 kivas. There are both round and square towers and many storage rooms and granaries.  She shares some of the theories about the use of Cliff Palace – some believe it was a residence for several families, some believe it was largely a ceremonial site with a few people caring for it and living in residence.  Some believe it was used strategically during conflict. When she talks about the reason the inhabitants abandoned these dwellings, she discusses factors that may have contributed to their decision – several years of drought in the years immediately before their departure, for instance.  She concludes by saying she believes they moved on because, based on their culture and beliefs, it was simply time to go.  

Although our guide has a wealth of knowledge about Mesa Verde and the people who lived here, (she tells us she has worked as an archaeologist in this area for years) she is too matter of fact for my liking.  I long to hear someone speculate about the past and weave stories about the people who used to be called the Anasazi. (Researchers and archaeologists stopped using this term when they realized it was a Navajo word meaning ancient enemy.) The current and more accurate name for the people who lived in Mesa Verde is Ancestral Puebloans.

The tour ends and we now have to climb back up the ladders. It’s considerably harder than climbing down, even worse than I anticipated.  I stop between each section of ladder and try to briefly catch my breath—briefly, because I don’t want to be obviously incapable – which has more to do with pride than anything else. There is no question that the altitude is affecting me, especially while climbing these four ten-foot ladders.  When I get to the top I’m gasping, heart racing, and wishing I’d thought to bring along my inhaler, which I rarely need but could really use now.  

There are several benches at the top of the ladders – placed strategically for tourists who need to stop and catch their breath.  I’m surprised to see that it’s not only we older folks who need to rest after the climb—people 30 years younger than me are panting and gasping as well. The unfortunate woman with acrophobia is nowhere to be seen.  

I return to my car, with plans to drive around the top of the mesa and see as much of the park as is possible in a day of touring.  There is so much more to see – the park contains 5000 archeological sites, including 600 cliff dwellings.  Of course, only a small fraction of these are available to tour – but even so, there is far more than can be seen in one day: Spruce Tree House, Fire House Ruins, Square Tower House Overlook, Oak Tree House Ruins, Sunset House, Balcony House, Mesa Top, Long House, Step House – the list goes on and on.   I do my best and drive to as many of these as I can.  One of the highlights of Mesa Verde is Balcony House, so I walk out about ¾ of a mile to a spot where you can view it from across a canyon.  There is a telescope you can train on the site for a closer look and I manage to take a photograph through this telescope.    (The round photo above.)

I also check out the Mesa Top ruins, where the Ancestral Puebloans lived hundreds of years longer than they lived in the cliff dwellings, and drive both the Cliff Palace and Mesa Top Loops, stopping frequently to walk to overlooks and examine excavated ruins.

It is late in the afternoon when I make it to the Chapin Mesa Archaeological Museum.  Spruce Tree House Overlook is nearby and there is a lovely paved path on which you can walk down for a closer look but by this point I am so exhausted I don’t feel able to walk even this short distance.  (For someone who can only manage a flying visit, this is definitely the place to go – The Spruce Tree House is an impressive site and easy to get to, plus it is within walking distance of a café, museum and bookstore. If you were pressed for time you could hit just this one area of the park.)

Although feeling very tired I manage to visit the bookstore, where I overdo it as usual and buy four (!) books about Mesa Verde because I am still longing for more – I want something I can take with me and savor after this day is over.  Also, I hope the books will satisfy some of the curiosity I still feel about the people who lived here and their fate.  

One of the books is simply for fun: a Nevada Barr mystery (this is a fun series with a female protagonist who is a ranger who moves from national park to national park, solving a different mystery in each.  I had read the mystery set in Mesa Verde many years earlier – (so long ago I could no longer remember who-done-it.)  It was fun to reread and this time around be able to recognize many of the landmarks and know that I had actually set foot in many of them!)

I also buy a very short tract written by three young women who visited the park in 1920 (they walked to Mesa Verde from their homes in Colorado), another book based on interviews with Marietta Wetherill, wife of Richard who excavated extensively here and in Chaco Canyon.  My fourth book ends up being the best of the lot – I buy it because it appears to be a book that will satisfy my craving for more detailed information about the people who lived here -- a book that will bring those early days to life and provide answers or at least speculation about their lives and motivations: “House of Rain” by Craig Childs.  The research and effort that went into his book is astounding.  What a luxury to have someone do extensive research (including many long walks across the desert), interview archaeologists and scientists, and pull together all of these many threads of knowledge into a cohesive whole. Even better, Childs can write like a dream—the kind of writing you just fall into.  I highly recommend it.

In addition to these books I buy souvenirs for myself and family, then head over to the cafe and grab a late lunch.  By this point I’ve reached the end of my endurance and am ready to head back to my hot tub.  I’ve seen a lot, and even though I can’t see everything (I don’t make it to the Wetherill Mesa, where Step House and Long House are located), I have finally satisfied some of my curiosity about Mesa Verde.  I drive down off the mesa and return to my motel room, so exhausted I don’t have the energy to walk across the parking lot for a meal.  

But all I saw and experienced today makes the extreme exhaustion worth it. I am as pleased with my efforts as I would be if I ran a marathon or hiked a mountain – the exhaustion is just a symptom of having explored and learned to the utmost.  And the things I did and saw today couldn’t be a more perfect match for my personal interests and inclinations – beautiful scenery, fascinating ruins, and enough information to imagine how life was lived hundreds of years ago. I loved every minute of it.

#MesaVerde #FourCorners #travelinglady #traveladdict #roadtrip #ancestralpuebloans

[idristardis]

NCIS: New Orleans - Thoughts on S5 Thus Far....

So, I’ve been juuuuust a bit behind on several of my regular TV shows this year...including, well, pretty much everything. I’m still working my way through NCIS: LA, but it’s going at a slower pace because I’m trying to write at least a brief recap of every episode for that as I watch, and because I’m also further behind with that show to start with...but I actually managed to catch up on all of the current season of NCIS: NOLA over the last couple of weeks. (That was 19 episodes in about 14 days, if you’re counting...).

Though I’d gathered from spoilers prior to watching any episodes that Pride had made a miraculous recovery from his S4-ending shooting, I hadn’t heard much else, so I was able to approach the season with a pretty open mind. It’s not a completely comprehensive hashing through, but some Scratch that...this got long. A lot of my thoughts are below the cut....

The Good

-The shift for Pride to Belle Chasse and the regional SAC position. It’s the kind of change shows like this often tease having their lead actor make, and then don’t follow through on...kudos to NOLA for actually having him do it. (Though, they do seem find the flimsiest of reasons some weeks to bring him back to the team’s regular HQ). It makes sense that in the wake of his shooting he’d at least attempt to find something more stable - also it was great that they didn’t have him immediately win everybody in his new office over to his methods with a grin and some kouign amann. The change of pace, and the chance to grow into a new role, is actually good for him.

-The episode Tick Tock was incredibly strong from start to finish. Tight, suspenseful storytelling with an ending that was only just a bit predictable - but still pretty effective and emotional for all that.

-Jimmy - In the Blood, the episode where he was introduced, was solid, and I really like that they’ve kept him around.

-Hannah - the actress is a really great addition to the show, and I like that they’ve given her character a bit of a complicated history. They’ve developed it pretty thoroughly too and it’s refreshing that they have her and her husband really struggling with how their marriage works in light of the dangers of her career. It would have been simpler (perhaps) for the show to have them make a clean break, at least after Victor Zelko was dealt with - but it feels more real, and more interesting, that they are continuing to try to work things out.

-Rufus Nero - a delightfully aggravating match for Doc Wade. Whether he becomes a love interest or not, it would be great to have him recur - LeVar Burton is always wonderful and he made a great sparring partner for Loretta. The episode that introduced him, X, was also really strong and well-paced.

-Sebastian has proved to be surprisingly resourceful this season and has really developed as an agent. From cozying up to spies to translating rich-kid speak for Gregorio and geeking out with Oliver Crane - not to mention buying a house! - it’s been a good season for him so far.

-Isler! I had the epiphany that it would be him tailing Pride just a few seconds before he showed his face. I hope we’ll see more of him by the end of the season - and I’m sure with his tie-in to the Apollion plot, that we will - but it’s great that they brought him back now.

The Not So Good

-It would be great if they found more of a use for Jimmy plot-wise, other than just turning the Tru Tone into the place to be any night of the week. There is potential in his relationship to Pride and their respective memories of Cassius that has yet to be tapped. They got into it a bit shortly after they introduced the character, but then it was buried and hasn’t really come up again. Jimmy seems to have accepted a lot of things that bothered him earlier, and Pride had some things it seemed he wanted to say to Jimmy as well...and I would’ve liked to see some on-screen resolution of all of that.

-Kinda regret that they killed Cassius off. He spent so many of his other appearances on the show incarcerated that it seemed like the chance to do some really interesting things with him now that he was out and that Jimmy was in the picture was wasted. I mean, when you have Stacy Keach, you should really make the most of him!

-Avner - his motives in Survivor were shoved into the narrative out of nowhere, and that uninvited shoulder rub he gave Hannah in the episode’s flashback was a bit creepy. She certainly didn’t seem to welcome it, and it made me wonder if we were meant to think there was more to their relationship than just the collegial - or if Avner only wished there were.

-The Gregorio and Sebastian as roomies thing. Not sure it really develops either character in any way, and was only mentioned once for humor after they started living together and then has been largely dropped.

-Gregorio in general just feels like she’s “idling” a bit this season. Other than Desperate Navy Wives she hasn’t really been the anchor of any episode so far, and we haven’t seen much non-work life development for her in quite awhile. She deserves better!

-The episode set in the tiny town of Bovis - that the entire town would be in on that meth operation seemed like just a biiiiiit of a stretch.

The Puzzling And/Or Meh

-LaSalle has been a bit of an “idler” this season too...but the one centric episode he had, where he was trying to clear up his father’s tax issues, brought in a character (the accountant for his father’s company) that I thought we’d see/hear more of, probably as a love interest for LaSalle, but she’s disappeared. Why not weave her in more? (I’m not saying I want the show to replace Percy as his love interest...but if they’re going to tease this other character, why not follow through?).

-The Patton-centric felt a bit flat to me this season, probably because they spent so much time that episode with that NOPD cop. I thought that actor overplayed that role quite a bit - everything was too hammed up.

-Sutter/The Angel - started off as a cool concept, got ragingly irritating after awhile (since the audience could just tell that Pride was never going to take her hand), but then became heartbreaking when it turned out that she was sticking around for Cassius after all. Can’t really figure out what I feel about her in the end.

-The woeful underuse of the terrific Reggie Lee as ASAC Thompson - I’ve loved his work since he was the snarky, Sergeant Wu on Grimm. He’s barely been a presence, and didn’t have much to do other than scold pride when he has been around. The fact that the Apollion mission file was found in his office makes me think that there might be something we haven’t yet unraveled about Thompson and his connection to all of that...but we’ll see!!

The Upshot

-Most things have been good this season: additions of new lead, secondary, and guest characters (Hannah, Jimmy, Rufus, etc) who are interesting; old connections resurfacing for good or dubious purposes (Oliver Crane, Isler, this coming week, Elvis Bertrand); personal/life growth for Pride, and, to a lesser extent, Sebastian.

-But...though I think it was a good (and totally understandable) move for the character given the trauma he endured at the end of S4...moving Pride to Belle Chasse and into the SAC position has fundamentally changed the nature of the show. The past seasons have thrived on the tension between Pride’s out-of-the-box leadership style and his team’s varying levels of willingness to go along with his ideas (LaSalle usually was on board, Percy often questioned him, and Gregorio could go either way), as well as how all of that clashed with the much more straitlaced, protocol-driven directives out of Washington.

That kind of thing couldn’t go on forever, or every season would hinge on the same type of major conflict (i.e. Pride-vs-team, and Pride-and-team-vs-DC) and get repetitive...but remove Pride from the day to day life of the squad, and give him a position of much greater authority, and it makes it less necessary for the team to question him or disagree with him and less probable that they will. He’s no longer their direct boss - they’re having those conversations where everyone’s arguing their points on a more equal footing with Hannah (and several episodes have shown Pride looking thoughtful over having been displaced from this and other aspects of the team’s life). They then look to him for support or a new bit of perspective, but he’s less likely to be the source of conflict with the team. (Side note: he comes to the squad more than any other SAC we’ve ever seen...have we even seen another SAC on the show? But where that type of character would usually be an opponent, he’s usually there as a supportive force, meaning no/little conflict).

He’s also less likely to be the source of conflict with the DC brass - though he doesn’t fully conform to Belle Chasse’s expected norms, he is on their management-level team now...and it has only made sense for him to adapt to that role and get better at it, meaning that the more he fits in, the less there is to mine for conflict in the dynamic with DC. It’s realistic, but it minimizes the potential for drama.

It’s all good development for the characters - and exactly what they should be doing. Growing, evolving, expanding...but while it’s felt like a season of personal, individual growth for Pride, Khoury, and Sebastian...as a team, it feels like they’re in sort of a holding pattern...and Gregorio and LaSalle (and to some extent Patton and Wade) feel like they’re not really moving forward at all. I don’t know what I’d do differently...just that for all the good that the new structure with Pride in Belle Chasse has brought, it has leeched some of the dramatic tension out of the squad room.

What I’d Hope To See

-Further exploration of Pride and Jimmy’s dynamic and their respective histories with Cassius.

-A satisfying end to the Appollion storyline.

-Some meaty, fully fleshed out development for LaSalle and Gregorio (as individuals and/or as friends) outside of the casework.

-More Jimmy, more Rufus, perhaps a bit more of Sebastian’s spy flame Carmen.

-Definitive progress between Hannah and her husband.

-A new love interest for Gregorio (and/or some more non-work friends...she could actually reconnect with some of those ladies from Desperate Navy Wives).

-A season ender with a satisfying cliffhanger that doesn’t involve Pride’s life hanging in the balance.

What I know I Won’t See, But Can’t Help But Hope For

-A guest spot for Shalita Grant (I miss Percy - and PerSalle - so much!!)

#ncis: new orleans #ncis: nola #S5 recap #metaaa #my thoughts #are long and rambly #and possibly nobody's interested #but i had a lot of them and had to get them out

[knock-me-out]

could you give us a rundown on each member's individual fashion style???

abso-fuckin-lutely, have some moodboards too for good measure

r.e.m.

likes looking “swaggy” like the swaggy rapper he is 

wears a lot of looser patterned clothes that are technically “in” for hip-hop 

often sees something on another idol and goes “that’s neat” then tries to find it on the internet 

supreme? he’s got it because he’s full of swag and the company can afford it for him so he’s gonna take advantage of that shit 

his entire closet? filled with stupid bucket hats and fanny packs. has decided he has too many. decided to sell them to owen and daesung. they were stupid enough to buy them 

around the dorm you can usually just find him chilling in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. loves himself some sweats oh boy. probably wears sweatpants to the airport as well just because he wants to be comfortable on the plane so he’s not gonna give two shits about whether there’s a stain on his pants or not

hyunseok

the stylists always end up dressing him a lot more showily than he’d want to

aways likes to have at least one red accessory somewhere, big sucker for it

styled with dangly earrings and tons of rings? It’s more likely than you’d think

doesn’t dress with the complete mom aesthetic most expect of him when on his own time; is a supporter of skinny jeans, turtlenecks, layers, jewelry. he likes fashion, takes pride in looking good. when everything else feels out of his control, his outfits aren’t. 

doesn’t tend to like wearing super bright colors, sticks to greyscale and red for the most part.

at the dorms, catch him walking around in sweatpants and ryeo’s t-shirts, silk robes, and glasses. his eyesight is garbage. usually is a complete mess on days off; wearing two different slippers, no glasses because he’s dumb so he’s just squinting at everything really suspiciously, no pants, and a t-shirt like five sizes too big while he cleans. help him.

tenshi

has two completely different styles. his idol fashion and his dorm fashion. they’re so insanely different that if any fan saw him in dorm fashion they’d be like “whomst is that???” 

idol fashion: big comfy sweaters, jeans, the biggest long sleeve t-shirts because wc absolutely cannot have him showing off his muscles 

dorm fashion: very tight work-out tees. basket ball shorts. but lets go back to the t-shirts. because when i say tight i mean he’s grown two sizes in t-shirt, but hasn’t gone shopping for new ones yet tight

would love to get to wear something other than long sleeves outside, but working for wc means that he’s supposed to maintain his sweet angel image so sweaters in 90° weather it is 

finds work out clothes very comfy and would like to just be in them all the time 

he tends to just sleep and wander the dorms in the morning in a pair of boxers and a large t-shirt that isn’t that big on him, but jui would drown in it

jui

he’d like to say that he’s the most fashionable member of k.o, but dohwan would probably punch him in the face if he said that and then proceed to go on a rant about why he’s the most fashionable member

loves anything that will button up and tuck into some tight jeans because he actually has great proportions and his legs are to die for, so he’s gonna show them off

wears only the finest of materials. hit him up with some nice silk and like designer denim. wishes he got that gucci deal instead of dohwan

accessories are a big yes. wears a lot of fun earrings and rings and bracelets. there’s always a nice belt holding up his pants because he’s that bitch 

fashionable even at home. definitely has like silk pajamas and parades around in them being comfy and fashionable

can only steal jungsoo and kyungsoo’s clothing and is salty. wants to steal dohwan’s shit but the man’s 5’11” and it makes jui angry

gem

he’s low-key legally obligated to wear gucci at all times, according to him. he’s the fashionista of the group and debatably the best at styling himself, loves clothing.

has no problem with showy high fashion, loves anything with a bit of shimmer to it, silk, flowy shirts with the top few buttons undone, chokers, turtlenecks and button-ups. 

big on accessorizing, especially gucci belts/anything with a brand name on it.

color wise, he likes blue and purple in particular — isn’t afraid to go bold with color to stand out.

doesn’t usually like showing much skin publicly, covers up even in the sun. he’s been made fun of by fans for wearing literal suits on the beach.

at the dorms, he’s more free with how he dresses. catch him making cereal at one in the morning wearing silk pants and no shirt. 

jungsoo

the SOFTEST sweater wearing fool — loves sweaters, cardigans, and warm fabrics. he could complain about being cold in the middle of the rainforest.

likes bright patterns and colors, mainly because he’s so damn short and needs to find a way to stand out somehow.

has two modes: on stage, he’s usually styled very precisely and looks pretty damn hot. offstage, he seems tiny and about twelve years old, likes to pull his sleeves over his hands and swat people with them for attention.

is 10/10 the most likely to rip something by not even doing anything, is just a clumsy lil baby.

likes jewelry, usually necklaces and rings, has a necklace with a star on it he never takes off.

at the dorms, wears hongsol’s hoodies religiously and shorts or pajama pants with cute patterns like ducks. will defend his ducks with his life, don’t make fun of him, you’ll get a shoe thrown at your head.

sol

wow he’s just not put together when it comes to fashion much at all. has a stylist buddy that plans his outfits for the week cause she doesn’t trust him to do it himself

pun t-shirts? oh yes please. he has just the worst graphic t-shirts that are all like a million years old that he pairs with jeans 

has once just gone to the airport in one of these stupid ass shirts and a pair of ripped to hell jeans and there were victories that laughed at him 

likes denim. a whole lot. like he only wears jeans. usually black jeans paired with a white t-shirt or a black t-shirt 

his fashion isn’t actually all that interesting in public because he still wants to wear a t-shirt and jeans, but his stylist friend is like “what the fuck do you think you’re doing” whenever he wears a fun shirt 

his color palette is exclusively black and white unless he’s being directly dressed by a stylist for a performance

seungjae

boyfriend aesthetic, completely. likes to dress in layers with flannels, cardigans, etc. dresses for comfort and for practicality.

prefers muted and warmer earth tones, nothing too harsh on the eyes. 

he’s usually styled in a lot of flowy and silky things, he’s not a fan but doesn’t complain.

has this one denim jacket all of the members have signed, he wears it all the damn time. it’s incredibly important to him, and he brings it with him wherever he might be filming.

doesn’t normally accessorize much or wear a lot of jewelry besides a designer watch — practical.

around the dorms, he’s usually in jeans and a flannel or knit sweater.

law

edgy bitch aesthetic, as could be expected. ripped jeans, leather jackets (if he can get away with not wearing a shirt under it, bet he’s going with that), flannels, denim jackets, anything experimental and showy. if he’s not really making an effort, sticks to jeans and black t-shirts. 

the more skin he can show, the better; likes to show off his tattoos, has no shame with it.

doesn’t like wearing a lot of jewelry besides rings and earrings. he dislikes dangly earrings and prefers studs, and with so many piercings in each ear, that’s wise. 

if he’s not wearing doc martens or converse, there’s an issue here, chief

part ii of the monochrome and red gang, but wears dark jewel tones from time to time. claims wearing white washes him out, usually avoids it. 

at the dorms, he’s usually shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. hates shoes and will be barefoot any time he can. refers to shirts as nipple prisons and usually gets smacked for it, don’t let him have rights.

kyungsoo

if there’s one thing to say about kyungsoo’s fashion taste it’s that everything he wears is at least three sizes too large on him. big sweaters, shirts, jackets, and more are his favorite things to parade around in 

habitual clothing thief from his members. likes to steal jae and ryeo’s stuff the best. usually takes ryeo’s sweaters because they have similar styles 

he’s already pretty small but his clothes always make him look even smaller. people comment that he always looks so soft in his big sweaters and flannels and stuff

likes pastels and greys more than your average bear. can almost never be found in a fully saturated color 

a lot of his clothing falls into the ‘comfort over coolness’ area since he’s super sensitive to certain materials and doesn’t like tight fitting clothing 

really loves the dress shirt under sweater combo as well as buying too big t-shirts/button ups and tucking them into a tight pair of black jeans

owen

the boy! loves! colors! pastels are a big yes for him and pairing those pastels with things like overalls and such is so much fun 

he’s also a huge fan of things with pockets. like, the more space to keep stupid things in the better. owns a jacket with fifteen pockets that remi and kiyong bought for him as a joke, but he actually adores it and wears it all the time 

follows like those modern flower-boy trends where he puts on some mom jeans and tucks a t-shirt into them. fans think it’s super cute


also a big ol’ sucker for putting cool jackets on top of his sweatshirts so he looks fun and edgy. his sweatshirts are 99% of the time stolen from dae 

can just be super simple too. half of his shirts are just white or stripy and he’ll usually stick a button up on top of those and pair it with some jeans and white sneakers 

speaking of sneakers, you’ll never find him in any other shoes unless he’s forced to. once wore converse with a suit on the red carpet

lux

loves sweatpants and oversized shirts/hoodies, skinny jeans. usually just looser tops and tighter clothing on the bottom, really.

big sucker for the color green, he claims it looks the best with his hair and skin color.

dresses for comfort and looks uneasy when he has to wear more delicate clothing and anything ridiculously expensive and fancy.

10/10 the most likely to buy some $3 t-shirt and wear it for like a week straight.

almost always wears athletic shoes of some kind.

around the dorms, he dresses pretty similarly: sweatpants, hoodies, burrows in his clothes.

#asks #k.o._fashion #kocnet

[breyito]

Sense of Being

This is my entry for the IronStrange Big Bang! I worked with @thesaintofbowlegs as my artist (stay tunned for the link to the art) and @drxgonstone as my beta.

So sorry for the delay, but I had a really busy day. First day of school an state over, flat shopping all afternoon, schoolwork...anyways, I made it, so, yay!

Thank you @ironstrangehq for putting this together for us!

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Not Team Cap friendly. Adult language.

Other tags: Humor. Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Supremefamily. Cloak ships it. Dum-E & Friday ship it. Peter ships it. They try to help. Team Cap being Dicks, as usual. Cloak & Dum-E teach them a lesson. Pranks.

Summary: 

Relics are not something out of the ordinary in the lives of sorcerers. Sentient relics are more unique. But a relic that can express thoughts and emotions as the Cloak does? That's almost unprecedented. There is not much written about the Cloak of Levitation; which doesn't make easier for people to relate to them and understand them. The concept of an object not being a possession, but somewhat their own person is difficult to grasp for many; respect it, even more so.

The fact that Tony Stark, a man who hates everything related to the Mystic Arts didn't even blink when introduced to the Cloak is not something Stephen had the chance to think about when they met (end of the Universe and all that); but it certainly makes him curious now, after things are back to normal.

The contradictions that are part of the Golden Avenger make him even more interesting than he already is; more tempting than he should be. As Stephen and the Cloak start spending more time in the Compound in Tony’s workshop, that is his sanctuary, with his creations; and the two men start opening up to each other. What was only attraction quickly transforms into deeper feelings.

No one saw the implications of what letting Dum-E and the Cloak bond would mean. So really, you really can't blame this one only on Stephen.

Also, Stephen panics. But only minimally.

Read it on: AO3

Finally, the Sanctum was back to its gloomy pre-Hulk-through-the-roof state.  Not that it was that time consuming or difficult, but Stephen and Wong had been preoccupied with other matters. Like ensuring the magical shields around the world still held strong and opening lines of communication with the Accords Panel and the Avengers. After Thanos and half the Universe disappearing and reappearing, the Order couldn’t really keep to themselves anymore. More and more threats were showing up every day; and often enough people combined technology with magic, or perverted mystical energy to gain more power. The danger was too big to be able to hide it now. Besides, having backup was actually a nice thing.

Still, many supers were weary of magic. Loki had done a lot to help clear his name; but still, the Avengers first impressions of ‘magic’ as a whole was through Loki and then Wanda Maximoff; both using it to cause harm to others. And while Loki had proved he was under torture and mental manipulation himself (the Mind Stone in Thanos possession was used); Maximoff didn’t had that defense (although she tried to use it, it wasn’t true); and people’s opinion varied a lot from place to place.  The world was a bit skeptical, and the hero community even more so. The Panel was logical enough, but Stephen would much rather deal with Rhodes, Danvers or Stark. The meetings at the Avengers Compound were as good an excuse as any to go out, and they provided more than enough social interactions. Many were dull or tense (politicians were really the same in pretty much everywhere and some members were too irritating to talk to for long periods of time); but the Spider kid, Peter, was a delight to spend time with. He was endearing in his awkwardness and was really curious and open to everything Stephen showed him. Besides, he was smart. The kid would grasp concepts really fast and would be an excellent apprentice (if Stephen wasn’t sure Stark would ban him if he thought he was teaching the child magic). The man’s dislike and caution for any type of magic was well known and the Doctor couldn’t really blame him.

Banner and Stark were also very good company. It had been a while since Stephen had indulged in conversation for the pure science of it. He wasn’t studying the Mystic Arts to battle a threat; he was just…chatting with smart people about concepts most humans wouldn’t understand. Peter often joined them, and the kid could relate any topic they were discussing to other things he already knew, rambling about this and that until he noticed and stopped, blushing; to the amusement of the adults.

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Stephen knew Peter’s intentions were good, but he wished the kid had asked permission before ambushing him with a party.

The teenager had come to visit (as he often did) a day after he and Wong finally ended with the repairs. They had spent a few hours in the library, Peter jumping around like a puppy, going from one relic to the other, asking what they do, who they belonged to, if they were sentient or not and a million other questions. He had turned and asked the Cloak about a hundred things when Stephen told him there were only three registered sentient relics, and only the Cloak was ‘awake’.  Those two getting along so well really warmed his heart. It was nice to see Peter’s childish glee when the Cloak took him flying and the Cloak was shivering in excitement the whole time.

When he had to leave to start his patrolling of the city, Peter had asked why he was allowed into the library this time; and when the sorcerer told him why, he had glowed. He started mumbling a mile a minute, about house warming presents (despite the fact that Stephen had lived here for years already) and that a plant could actually ‘live-up’ the place a little, etc. Stephen gave up trying to interrupt him after a few moments and only waved goodbye (along the Cloak, who had given Peter a long hug) when the teen left. He had sighed and turned around with a smile on his face, only to see Wong standing at the end of the stairs.

“That’s going to bite you in the ass,” deadpanned the librarian, before leaving. Strange shared a glance with the Cloak, but they only give him a shrug, so he decided not to take it seriously. After all, he doubted a plant would be that much trouble.

He should’ve known better.    

The teen had gone all out for the ‘housewarming party’. He had decorated the stairs, windows, even the ceiling. He had set a table with a lot of food (probably the only reason Wong wasn’t portalling him to an undesirable destination were those delicious deli sandwiches) and even put together a playlist (the Beyoncé songs probably helped too, now that Stephen thinks about it). He had invited people over (a small number, all of them who had been in the Sanctum previously, which both sorcerers appreciated); neither of which was surprised about the fact that the hosts of said party had no idea it was planned.

Going by the mischievous smile on Stark’s face, the Doctor bet Peter’s mentor had indulged this. After all, there was no way a teen without a (paying) job could buy all this food and drinks (some of which were alcoholic, although the soda and juice selection was large too). As of right now, Wong was in deep conversation with Rhodes and Banner and Peter was being dragged around the ‘dance floor’ by Carol and Hope, red as a tomato.

The engineer was standing beside the food table and …conversing with the Cloak?  They had dropped Stephen on his ass when the sudden music made the sorcerer appear in the first floor of the Sanctum. The Cloak had launched themselves to the dance floor to ‘show their moves’, and Stephen barely had time to slow down his descent and save some of his pride. Traitorous piece of fabric.

Sighing, the Doctor got up from his seat and walked towards Stark. When the other man saw him a smile spread across his face and the Cloak shook in laughter and dodged him as they flew away. Shaking his head, Stephen let a reluctant smile spread across his lips for a moment. Then he realized the brunette was staring at him and he returned his face to neutrality.

“Capricious, aren’t they?” Stark said, pointing at the Cloak with a tilt of his head. Stephen give himself a few moments to get over his shock.

“They?” he asked, confused. The engineer gave him a funny look and lifted eyebrow.

“Well, yes. Or is it he?” he paused and when the sorcerer didn’t respond, he continued “She? I didn’t want to assume, you know.”

Stephen didn’t answer because he was thinking. Relics were not something out of the ordinary in the lives of sorcerers. Sentient relics were more unique. But a relic that can express thoughts and emotions as the Cloak does? That's almost unprecedented. There was not much written about the Cloak of Levitation; which doesn't make easier for people to relate to them and understand them. The concept of an object not being a possession, but somewhat their own person is difficult to grasp for many people; respect it, even more so.

The fact that Tony Stark, a man who hates everything related to the Mystic Arts didn't even blink when introduced to the Cloak is not something Stephen had the chance to think about when they met; but it certainly makes him curious now.

“Strange?” a hand was in his field of vision, and Stark was looking at him with worried eyes. Stephen shook himself off the zone he was in and gave him a grimace.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“Just thinking? Jeez, you scared me.” Breathed out the engineer, relaxing. “Also, I don’t buy that you were just ‘thinking’.  We discuss science and magic and science all the time, and you never zone out like that.”

“It’s just…you surprised me, that’s all.” The Doctor says, smiling a bit.

“Surprise you…? Oh, because Levi and I get along?” he asks, suddenly all smiles. “They have an excellent sense of humor. Much better than some assholes I know, really-”

“Levi?” Stephen repeats, not able to contain himself.  “You gave them a nickname?” he asks, incredulous.

“…yes?” Stark answers, not understanding. “I mean, giving nicknames to people is kind of my thing, you know? And saying ‘the Cloak’ or ‘the Cloak of Levitation’ over and over is such a drag. ‘Cloaky’ is another nickname; although they seem to like ‘Levi’ more.”

Stephen didn’t say anything for a while, trying to come up with something to say. It wasn’t often that the Sorcerer Supreme was left speechless, but it figures that the one to do it would be the so called ‘Golden Avenger’.

“You keep surprising me, Stark. Not many people consider the Cloak as their own being, and those who do never treat it as…well, as a person. And given your experiences with magic, I guess I never expected you to be one of them.”

“Well, I thought, if they were smart enough to know quality and slap me in the ass…” Tony winked, laugh dancing in his eyes. And what an ass, the thought suddenly entered his head and he cleared his throat, the back of his neck suddenly on fire.

“Yes, well…” Stephen grabbed a glass of lemonade to cool him down a bit. Usually, when he was attracted to people, he noticed right away, because it was mostly on a physical level. But Stark? He was certainly handsome, with those doe eyes and fluffy hair (and if he took those words from the post Peter read to him, sue him, because they fit) but also…also, he was intelligent and a sarcastic little shit and could totally sass you to dead. He effortlessly kept up with Stephen, and he was full of contradictions. Stephen was a little afraid of admitting it, but he was…infatuated with the man. God help him.

“Also” the engineer interrupted him “if I can create sentient living and thinking beings out of codes and technology; why couldn’t magic do the same? For all I knew, Levi was Wong’s and your brainchild.” Stephen choked on the sip he had taken, and coughed until he was red in the face.

When the sorcerer got his breath back, he saw Stark leaning back against the table and smirking at him. You could just tell he had timed his phrasing just so Stephen would choke. That little- But before he could say anything, or finish another thought, the other man started speaking.

“Come on, I want you to meet a few people.” He just started walking, not glancing back to see if the sorcerer was behind or not. Still Stephen followed him. “Think you can make a portal to the Compound? I don’t want to take the car and leave Rhodey and the kid without means for transportation. Besides, I promised Happy a few free hours.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to portal inside your Compound.”

“I usually wouldn’t, but I already let FRIDAY know that we might be dropping by, through magical taxi.”

“Please don’t call it that.” Still, Stephen took his Sling Ring out of his robes and put it on. As soon as he did, though, the Cloak came rushing in, enveloping him and making him stumble a little. “Oh, there you are. Bailed on somebody else, uh?” he asked, mock-offended. The Cloak patted him on the cheek as an apology and Tony just smiled, waiting. Stephen sighed and opened the portal in the kitchen of the Compound.

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Tony (and he was Tony now, the man himself had asked Stephen to call him that instead of ‘Stark’) had offered the sorcerer something to eat and/or drink as soon as they finished walking through the portal; as if they hadn’t just been in a party with an impressive catering.

When Stephen refused they moved along to the elevator and got in. After some throughout checks, it started moving- downwards. Stephen had been on the open labs, a sort of ‘communal space’ for the scientists of the Avengers, and they were impressive. But he had also heard a lot about Tony’s private workshop/lab; where only a handful of people were allowed in (Rhodes, Ms Potts, Harley and Peter were pretty much it; unless Bruce and Tony were working in a specific project). He was surprised to be heading there, to be honest. Even when they were talking through some ideas for the new line of medical equipment and prototypes SI had been developing and discussing what was already in market and how it could be improved upon; it was always in the communal labs. The Doctor never took offence to that, because he didn’t invite (often, Peter was an exception) to the Sanctum, even less to the library. But before he had the chance to ask Tony what they were about to do (or who they were about to meet, more precisely), the doors opened and Stephen was awestruck.

The place was stunning. Stephen couldn’t help himself as he entered; walking further and further into the workshop. From an aesthetic and scientific perspective; the whole room was full of wonders. Three dimensional holograms, data of all kinds filling the screens, armor and prototypes and so many wonderful things. There was much else that he didn’t understand, of course, as his specialty wasn’t engineering, electronics or computer coding (or any of the seven PhDs the man had).

But the most beautiful thing about the place wasn’t what Stephen could see, but what he could feel. There was an energy emanating from every inch of the room: chaotic but controlled, maniac but creative and so, so joyful. This was a Sanctum all on its own, this was Tony’s sanctuary. Stephen could understand why the man would allow only the closest people to him to enter. And whatever he had done to deserve the invitation, he would try and do it again.

(It was a mystery how people could be so wrong about something as obvious as this was. ‘It’s a dangerous place when he loses himself in it.’ Said Romanoff. ‘So secretive, who know what kind of shit he’s doing down there?’ Barton spat. ‘I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to deal with another of his hand-made monsters’ added Maximoff, grinding her teeth. Rogers opted not to say anything, even if his face showed just how disappointed he was not to be invited along Rhodey, Peter and Vision, as they walked to the elevator).

“So?” Tony asked, shaking the Doctor from his thoughts. “What do you think?”

“I…I think this place is amazing, Tony. I just…have no words.”

“Wow. That much, uh? I knew you guys lived in the Stone Age, but I didn’t think your reaction would surpass Barnes’.” He joked.

“It’s not the tech that has me without words, Tony, it’s…you.” Stephen caught the blush on the engineer’s face and winked at him, which made the blush spread further. So pretty…he thought, then interrupted himself by explaining: “The amount of energy emanating from this place is so great I’m not sure why I never felt it before. It makes me want to smile, to be honest. The pure joy you must feel creating, for it to feel that way.” The blush on Tony’s cheeks deepened even more, but the genius talked before he could continue.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Well! I actually wanted to introduce you to...where are you, buddy?” he called, looking around. A beeping sound came from right behind Stephen, and he and the Cloak (who so far had been basking in the energy of the room) jumped, turning around and taking defensive positions. What Stephen saw next was…not at all what he expected (but then, this whole day had been full of surprises courtesy of Tony Stark, so why should he even try to guess what was going to happen). A big metal…machine, with an arm? Claw? Holding a fire extinguisher was looking at them both through a camera, moving it this way and that, taking them in, as it continued beeping curiously.

“Please don’t kill my son. He might be useless as a bucket,” the beeping went low and sad at this, at the same time the claw moved down “but he’s still family.” Another beep came from the machine as it moved forwards, towards the engineer that opened his arms with a smile and patted the arm. “His name is Dum-E.”

The Cloak came off Stephen’s shoulders at that, floating cautiously towards the machine. They poked the metal and scurried off when Dum-E tried to grab them.

“Dum-E, seriously?” the Sorcerer asked, watching transfixed as the Cloak and the machine circled one another, poking and lightly touching each other, like in a game.

“Hey. I was 17 and drunk off my ass when I first turned him on. He didn’t respond so I…might have insulted his motherboard. The next morning, when he did respond, the only name that he would listen to was that one.”

“I suppose your professors weren’t much impressed with that.”

“Oh, they were impressed alright. By the AI, not by the name.” Tony said, snorting.

A high pitched beep caught their attention. The Cloak had decided to envelop Dum-E and the poor thing couldn’t see.

“Levi! Careful, yeah? He needs the lens to see. The dark scares him.” Tony explained, as the Cloak backed off. The Cloak-Levi, seemed ashamed. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s okay, right Dum-E?” the beeping from the AI, the Cloak cheered up.

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They spent hours on the lab, just talking and working and seeing Levi and Dum-E become friends. They both had similar taste in humor, constantly play-pranking each other.

It was probably by this instance when they should have realized that those two spending so much time together wasn’t going to end well.

But as smart as they were, neither Stephen nor Tony saw the consequences coming.

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It was already pretty late when Tony’s stomach growled in hunger and they finally checked the time. The Doctor was surprised at the hour: ten pm. Wong must be worried, or at least irritated with him, for skipping on his duties without notice. They decided to head to the kitchen to get a bite first, and then Stephen and Levi would leave for the Sanctum. But Dum-E let out a pitiful noise at the thought of leaving his new friend out of his sight; so Tony agreed to let him follow them to the kitchen, the AI beeping excitedly the whole way.

While Tony set them up with some quick sandwiches, Stephen washed the used utensils and returned the ingredients to their place with a few flicks of the wrist.

“Practical.” Smirked Tony, amused.

“Don’t tell Wong about it. He…disapproves of using our skills in such manner.” Tony snorted, because he was pretty sure he saw Wong that same day throwing some things to the trash can via magic; but said nothing.

After they were through with their food the genius offered him a smoothie. Just as he was about to decline, the Cloak went rigid behind him and Stephen, in reaction, tensed too. A second later Barton and Maximoff came into the room, stopping when they saw that it was already occupied. Instead of leaving though, they continued on; the witch to the fridge and the archer hopped on the counter, insolence pouring off him in waves.

“Heard there was a party today.” Barton said, taking an apple from the plate on the counter and biting into it. He chewed absurdly loud for a few moments, maintaining what he obviously thought was a mean glare, and then carried on: “Curious. I wasn’t invited. Neither was Wanda, Natasha, Sam or Steve.” He finished the sentence looking at Tony’s direction, like daring him to deny it.

The engineer just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“That’s what happens when you are an asshole to everyone; I suppose.” he said, sighing.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Barton sneered, taking another bite.

“Maybe, but at least I own up to my behavior.”

“Right,” Maximoff interrupted; “like you didn’t convince the only magic user apart from me on the team to not let me put a foot inside his ‘Sanctum’” she spat, eyes throwing poison.

“It is not ‘mine’ and you know why you can’t ‘put a foot inside’ the Sanctum, Ms Maximoff. We give you a chance to learn how to use your powers properly, but you declined.” A pause. “Rather vehemently.”

“You wanted me to go live in China to get rid of me! And you wanted to control my powers, like that collar did.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in the kitchen, while both geniuses looked at each other with incredulity. Levi was also glaring at the witch, not the she could tell.

“…Nepal is a country on its own right, Maximoff.” Tony said, slowly. The woman blushed, but pushed through.

“That’s not the point! The-”

“-the point is that we refused to treat you in a special way, and you threw a tantrum that destroyed some pieces of furniture and part of the common room in the East Wing.” Strange finished, in a dry tone.

“How are the payments for that going, by the way?” Tony asked, because he knew that all the Rogues (minus Lang, cause he actually has a brain sometimes) were pitching in to pay for the damages; even if it was only her fault.

Wanda sneered and opened her mouth to spit threats at the same time red sparks came off her fingertips; when white foam filled her mouth and covered her whole. There was a shocked, thick silence for a few moments, before a cheery ‘beep’ from Dum-E broke it and both men started laughing; while Barton passed the woman a kitchen rag to wipe the foam off.

“What the fuck is that thing, Stark? Another murder robot with a savior complex?” the archer asked, glaring at the bot.

“This is Dum-E, my first AI. And even though he is not as advanced as JARVIS or FRIDAY; I’m pretty sure he is more mature than you.”

“Oh, fuck you, Stark.”

With that, Barton led Maximoff out of the kitchen. Tony and Stephen turned to watch them go.

“Thing is, I’m pretty sure that Dum-E was just trying to help and avoid a fire.” The engineer said, fighting against the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Stephen snorted.

Behind them, Levi was offering a border of their fabric to Dum-E; to seal their pact.

FRIDAY could have probably said something. But she didn’t, because she didn’t appreciate the comparison between Ultron and her brother. Especially when the only creator of Ultron that did never pay for her part was involved.

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The Cloak is pouting again; if you can call it that. They are following Stephen around the Sanctum (Levi does not usually do that, unless there’s nothing else to do and/or the Doctor needs help with something); but in a slow manner, dragging their edges along the floor, collar down. Sighing, of all things. They seem sad.

Thing is, Stephen knows why. He and Wong had been watching the news on his laptop, when a report on how Tony Stark and his newest protégés are doing as of late (with the Rogues back in the States; despite the people’s displeasure with them) came on; and Levi had whooshed in to watch it in a second. Stephen was actually gonna watch that segment; because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other man the whole week and him picking Peter’s brain to know how the other was doing was getting obvious and ridiculous.

But Wong had looked at him, and so Stephen had closed that window and opened Spotify, to play some Beyoncé songs that would improve the other man’s mood. The Cloak had tried to pull his arm away, but it was already too late. Levi had tried to change it back, but Stephen had scolded them and slapped the fabric away. The Cloak had looked scandalized and hurt, but stopped. Instead, they had followed him all day, behaving pitifully, glancing his way and sighing, still looking hurt.

Stephen was sure it was all a ruse, but he couldn’t stop feeling a little guilt. So, after finishing the book he was reading, he came to a decision.

“Fine, you childish thing; I’ll take you to the Compound so you can make sure he’s fine.”  The Cloak had looked up at that, and threw themselves at Stephen, enfolding him in the vibrating fabric. The Doctor allowed the hug and gave them a few pats before shaking them off and putting on his Sling Ring.

He opened a portal a few hundred feet away from the main building, in one of the many green areas. Tony had allowed him to open portals in his property, but never inside the building; except for the day of the party. He claimed that when he was sleep-deprived he couldn’t be accountable for attacking someone that showed up from nowhere. (Stephen hadn’t listened and often portaled himself in the building anyways; until the time he lost a good chunk of his hair to a repulsor beam, to Wong’s and Tony’s amusement. He had never done that again.)

But Levi didn’t immediately fly away, as Stephen was expecting. Instead it twisted around his arm and dragged him to the automatic doors, which opened as the same time FRIDAY greeted them.

“Welcome back, Dr. Strange. Boss is in his workshop, if you want to talk to him. I’m sure Dum-E will be very pleased to spend time with Levi again.” Said garment shivered in excitement, but kept dragging the Doctor through the building towards the elevator.

“Hello, FRIDAY. Actually, I- wait, I have authorization to go to his private lab?” Stephen asked, puzzled.

“Boss added you and Levi to the list of approved people after your visit last week.”

“Figures,” the voice startled Stephen and he turned to see he had entered the living room where a few of the Avengers were present, and they were all looking at the picture Levi and he presented; “the whacky wizard Stark barely knows gets an invitation; but his teammates from years are not allowed to go down the elevator.” Barton finished, spitting out the words.

“Clint, come on.” Bruce says. He was sitting in the couch besides Vision, looking at a Stark Tablet. “That’s not fair.”

“You are allowed into Tony’s workshop?” Romanoff asks, changing her posture from lush against the arms of the loveseat to sitting upright. “That’s an interesting development.”

“Is it?” the archer continued from where he was sitting on the floor. “I feel like it is only natural: two know-it-all, ‘great facial hair’ douchebags get along; what a surprise!” the man had obviously been drinking, even if it was only early afternoon.

“Clint, please stop.” Rogers interferes before the other man can say something that will get him in trouble. Harassment of a team member is something the Council is not in favor of, surprisingly. The reason Wong won’t come around often? He got tired of Barton’s ‘jokes’ and Romanoff mocking demeanor and dumped them in a frozen lake in Alaska (unfortunately the lake wasn’t completely frozen, so when he eventually transported them back they were all wet and cold). The Council had no way of discipline Wong because he hadn’t signed the Accords and witnesses had pretty much agreed they deserved it; so they had asked him not to send team members to possible crippling places in the future. Wong had decided it was easier for ‘decent people’ to come to him in the Sanctum and had reduced his visits (also, the ‘Rogues’ tended to disappear pretty quickly when he came by). “When did this happen, Strange?” he asked instead, like he hoped he could do the same and get an invite also.

“I bet it was when Ultron’s younger brother attacked Wanda with the fire extinguisher.” The archer muttered.

“My brother is in no way related to the entity you refer as ULTRON.” FRIDAY suddenly interrupted. “He was trying to prevent a fire or some other ‘accidents’ that tend to happen when the Scarlett Witch throws a tantrum.” Her voice was cold and flat, demeaning. No one in the room could exactly call foul play, because this common room had been refurnished pretty much entirely from the last of her ‘accidents’. Levi shook in laughter, remembering.

To avoid any other uncomfortable interactions, Bruce passed the tablet at Vision and got up.

“Come on, Strange; I have something to show Tony too.” Together they walked to the elevator and Levi seated themselves on Stephen shoulders.

{---{---{---}---}---}

Turns out, Bruce was just removing himself from a tense situation and had nothing to show to Tony; so he just stood as Stephen and Levi left the elevator and FRIDAY took him to the cafeteria.

Stephen was a little apprehensive to just show up unannounced with no real reason to be there (there wasn’t an emergency, or a project to work on, or heck, an open invitation). It was one thing to portal Levi and leave them to their own devices and another thing entirely to just barge in uninvited. Still, as soon as the doors opened Peter greeted them warmly.

“Doctor Wizard! Levi! Come one in!” the teen said, as he kept throwing a bouncy ball to the wall and jumping to catch it before Dum-E could, much to the robot’s displeasure. Levi whooshed in and joined them, catching the ball before even Peter could.

“Strange?” said Tony, who was under a car. He rolled out and got up, cleaning his hands on his t-shirt. “Oh, great! You brought Levi back. Dum-E has been moping all around the place the whole week.” He joked, amused at the party behind them.

“Yes, well, he wasn’t the only one.” Stephen said “Levi amped up the pitiful act to eleven so I’d open a portal here.”

“Wow. You didn’t want to come back that badly?” Tony joked, although his warm brown eyes seemed sad all of the sudden.

“No! I mean, yes, I wanted to come back, but I…didn’t know if I was welcomed.” Stephen said, blushing. Tony seemed amused by the response, but that smile reached his eyes again, so the Doctor counted that as a win. The engineer turned to one of the screens and started to shut down some things as he continued the conversation.

“You have an open invitation, Doc.” He said, winking. “I was about to take a shower in my rooms, if you want to join me?” he asked, distracted.

“My, how forward of you, Tony” Strange teased, arching one eyebrow. The genius snorted out a laugh.

“Sorry, was distracted. I mean I am going to my room to shower and want to know if you prefer to stay here with the kids or go up with me and wait for me and then maybe, I don’t know, have a drink?” he rephrased, looking at Stephen from beneath his eyelashes.

This man is truly a menace, the Sorcerer thought. A joyful scream made them both jump, and both turned to watch Levi and Dum-E trying to catch Peter this time.

“I think I will join you, yes.”

“FRIDAY, love, try to let them not completely destroy my lab?” Tony asked, as they walked out.

“I’ll try, Boss; but I make no promises.” She wisely answered.

---{}---

Unbeknown to both of them; the two AIs, the relic and the teenager were planning how to get revenge on the Rogues. No one should compare Dum-E to ULTRON twice and get away with it. Not on Peter’s watch. (Also, they might be gossiping about how Dr Strange and Mr. Stark make the cutest couple).

---{}---

---{}---

---{}---

After that night, visits happened more often. Even with their tight schedules, their…friendship developed rapidly.  Although friendship might not be the right word. It almost seemed they were…courting each other, old as that term was. (Wong certainly seemed to think that, as well as Rhodes, who had given him a terrifying version of the ‘shovel talk’ that Stephen prefers not to think about).

Tony passed by when he could, but even when he couldn’t, or wasn’t even in the country or heck, the continent, he sent something to be delivered to the Sanctum. Either sweets, or books or some clothing item that he think would look good on Stephen. Wong had been irritated until the deliveries brought food, and now was all for it, eagerly receiving the people at the door. Much to the Doctor’s amusement, whenever those items weren’t food, they would end thrown in a corner until he found them, and Wong would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Probably the sweetest of all those presents was the vinyl music collection of ABBA that Tony had sent him. He remembered their talk that first night they spent drinking in Tony’s room. Stephen had confided him how much he missed to be able to go home and relax to the sound of this music; because even if he had the songs on Spotify’s playlist it…just wasn’t the same as hearing them from vinyl.

He also remembered Tony’s confession about how much he missed the cooking of Ana, Jarvis’. The pair had raised him while working for his father, basically, and his favorite Hungarian food was difficult to come by. By chance or by fate, Stephen had helped a Hungarian family in the neighborhood to get rid of some nasty demons a few months back; and when he asked the Mrs. Varga for some Pörkölt she was very happy to do so (said something about him being too alone) for him.

The smile that the engineer gifted Stephen when he the Sorcerer presented him with the stew was how he knew that he was totally lost. He had fallen in love with Tony Stark. (Again).

Crap.    

{---{---{---}---}---}

The Sorcerer had no idea why he was behaving as a pubescent kid, but his panicking started almost two weeks ago and showed no signs of stopping. Since his realization Stephen had been avoiding going to the Compound. He guessed it had something to do with seeing himself falling in love with the genius in thousands and thousands of alternate universes. And being witness to how beautiful their relationship could become; or how painful it could end.

So, he only appeared in the building for Avengers meetings and prior commitments, which he didn’t bother to re-make, all to avoid going there and seeing the man he desperately wanted to see. Fortunately, he did had work to do, and that stopped him from thinking too much about the genius that had taken hold of his heart. Guarding their reality was a taxing job at times; and whenever that didn’t keep him occupied, there were hundreds of books and spells that he has yet to learn.

Levi, however, had been going there more and more. At first he had bothered Stephen or Wong until either of them opened a portal for they to go through; but the Doctor had been vehemently refusing to do so for days, and Wong had gotten tired of being used as a taxi service. Nonetheless, after Peter passed by one day and offered to take Levi swinging, the Cloak often waited for him. If the teen had to cancel, Levi gave a full-body sigh and flew there themselves.

Levi still tried to convince him to stay a bit longer whenever they had to show up at debriefings, but Stephen had less and less reason to. The last couple of meeting had been filled with complaints from the Rogues about cold showers, tampered leftovers, color-changing shampoo, missing underwear and other things. The Rogues were convinced that someone on the new roaster was playing pranks on them, but after Stephen had cast a truth bonding spell on all new members and found no culprit, they had turned on one another.

It had been amusing the first few times (Rhodes, Peter and Carol were certainly laughing); but it was getting more and more tiresome as things escalated to full-bodied brawls and a ´prank war´ that had no respect for other people. When his cellphone started ringing and he saw it was Peter he answered in a heartbeat; the kid had only texted him so far, never called.

“Peter? Is everything okay?” he asked, already up.

“…I’m not Peter.” Tony answered.

“Why are you calling from his phone?” Stephen asked, suspicious.

“I figured you wouldn’t answer if it was my number. And anyways, I’m calling from the kid’s phone because he broke mine!” he yelled (the Doctor supposed it was to said teen, and this was confirmed when he heard a high pitched ‘Dum-E did it!’ and then ‘He rolled over it because you took it from me and threw it to the other side of the room!’ on the other side).

“Alright. And this has to do with me because…?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention Levi is here with us?” at Stephen’s groan Tony continued “Believe me, this has everything to do with you.”

{---{---{---}---}---}

The Doctor had taken a few minutes to gather himself. He changed into a proper attire and styled his hair a bit. He was nervous. Usually Levi was there whenever he needed someone to distract him or cheer him up; but right now, they were the reason he was being forced to see Tony. Could he still call him Tony, after two weeks of silent treatment for no reason? He hoped so. Maybe this was a good thing, after all. He had to mend their relationship, even if after his stupid panic Tony only offered him friendship.

Now even more nervous; he put on his Sling Ring and opened a portal to the Avengers’ living room, as instructed.

“You sure took your sweet time to get your ass here, Strange.” Barton said in a mocking tone. “Too busy looking in the mirror?”

“Too busy closing doorways into other dimensions that morons such as yourself open and don’t know how to close.” He responded, not missing a bit. He had been doing that earlier in the day. Also, he was done with this man’s attitude.

“Well, your magic cape has been taking our stuff and poisoning us for weeks! Did you order it to do it?” Maximoff snapped from the other side of the room. Now that Stephen turned, he saw the state of the living. It was a disaster.

“One, I can’t order them like some kind of mindless dog. Two, Levi is their own person. Three, Levi is a Cloak. And fourth…I had no idea that was happening. I honestly thought one of you reversed to the mentality of a kindergarten brats (not that it would take much, but still).”

“Oh, you fucking prick-”

“Stop.” The sharp voice belonged to Tony, and Stephen immediately lowered his hands, that went up in position when the archer took the first step forward. “All of you, out.” At the glares of the Rogues, he stood his ground and glared back. “Out. Stephen is responsible for Levi and I am responsible for Dum-E and Peter. These are pranks from children, so we will treat them like that. You have no part in this.”

“We were the ones that had to-” Rogers started.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Rogers? No. Now, as your commanding officer, I am ordering you to leave this area.”

The tension grew exponentially, and it seemed that a real battle would unfold in the middle of the living room, but the redhead spy put her hands on the arms of Barton and Rogers and they shared a long look. Finally, they left the area.

A few moments of silence followed, and Stephen could see the tension leaving Peter’s body along with Levi’s, and even Dum-E lifted his claw a bit. But before Stephen could say anything or ask anything; Tony walked towards the sofa and plummeted on it; supporting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face on his hands. He looked so…tired and defeated. Stephen would have sat down beside him and offer him comfort, but the truth was; he didn’t know if he was allowed to do that anymore.

“Tony?” he asked softly, trying not to startle the man and get his stress higher. “Wha-”

“Did you had to do that!?” he yelled, making everyone in the room jump. The kids (and yes, Stephen was totally including an ancient relic in the bag, seeing as they pranked the Rogues like a child would) looked guilty and ashamed. “Did you had to put bugs in Wilson’s leftovers, and replace Maximoff’s talcum powder with itchy powder” Tony got up and walked to the window, showing his back to the rest of the room; his whole body was trembling with rage “and steal all of Barton’s underwear and-and die Captain America’s hair r-red, white and-and bl-blue?” at this last part he burst out laughing; having to support himself on the glass not to fall to the floor.

Peter and Stephen were left gaping at him, not believing their eyes. Levi remained still for a minute, before he started to shiver in the way they did when something was terribly funny to them. Dum-E, watching his friend, gave a hopeful ‘beep’ that took Peter out of his stupor.

“Mr. Stark!” he screamed, smiling. “I thought you were mad at us!” he mocked-accused.

“Oh, I totally am mad at you.” The genius said, wiping tears away. “And me and May will totally punish you.” Peter stilled again, incredulity and fear seeping out of him. “But what’s done it’s done, and I can at least enjoy it a bit, can’t I?” he smirked.

“Boss, I think-” FRIDAY started, but Tony interrupted her.

“Oh, don’t you think I don’t know what you did. Covering for them and lying (to me)?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Boss.”

“Of course you do. I am sure you helped them.”

“Boss-”

“-As I am also sure you saved me some pictures and embarrassing videos, right baby girl?”

“…That might be a correct assumption.”

Tony laughed a bit more at that, before sighing and sitting down on the sofa again. Stephen hadn’t moved since the genius’ first outburst, but he shook his head to clear it (somehow this seemed weirder than the ‘Pet-Vengers’ dimension he had closed this morning).

“That’s it?” he asked, disbelieving. “You are not going to-”

“To what? Yell at them some more? I scared the crap out of them already.” He answered briskly. “And there will be punishments. Just…not right now. Right now, I’m enjoying this feeling.”

“Feeling of what?”

“Victory.” He paused. “Or something like it. It feels good either way.”

“Ton-”

“Besides, look at them!” Tony exclaimed, interrupting him; it was clear he didn’t want to listen to Stephen very much. The genius pointed at the trio of troublemakers that were playing once more. “They are proud of what they did.”

“All the more reason to lecture them. Maybe the Rogues had it coming, but that’s no reason to just let them get away with it.” Stephen didn’t know why he was even fighting this. He supposed there should be one responsible adult in the room; but why did it have to be him? The last thing he wanted to do right now was fight with Tony.

“I will lecture Dum-E, but at this point I don’t think it’ll matter. He’s had thirty years to learn how to be stubborn and ignore me, really. I will forbid visits from Levi for two weeks, though, that’s the only punishment I can think of that will hit him.” By the sad and angry beeps coming from the other side of the room, the AI had heard them and wasn’t pleased with the news. “Don’t look at me like that, mister.” Tony said firmly. “Peter, come here.” he called. The teen looked like a deer in headlights, and walked slowly towards them, twisting his hands together.

“Mr. Stark?” he hesitantly asked.

“I will call May and tell her what you did-” Peter opened his mouth to protest “-shut it, this is for the adults to decide on. You do deserve a punishment, for lying to me and causing so much damage. I can say, for my part, that your training sessions will be on stand-by for a time, while you help clean and repair the mess that is our living room. I am sure your Aunt will think of something else to add to your penance.” The teen had lowered his eyes once more but raised his head when his mentor called his name again “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Levi is all your, though. I won’t help you there.” the engineer said, quickly. Stephen guessed he deserved that. He wouldn’t want to deal with an ancient relic that can probably wield magic on their own either (he suspected the death and re-appearing spiders on Romanoff’s bed was an old curse that he hadn’t being able to crack yet).

“Alright. I’ll take Levi back-”

“No, no, no. Kids,” Peter, Dum-E and Levi looked up, even if they seemed resentful of the honorific “I want to know why you did this.”

“Really? They wanted payback, isn’t obvious?” the Doctor replied, arching an eyebrow.

“But that’s not it.” Tony said, walking around the trio. The fidgeted on their spots, not looking at either adult. “The pranks could have gone on for weeks before someone finally caught on, and what’s more, actually got evidence. They wouldn’t quit that for nothing.” Tony stopped and stood with his arms on his hips (Stephen had to swallow a snort at the eerily similarity between Tony and his own mother in the same position; sure that the genius wouldn’t appreciate the comparison). So he just crossed his arms and gave the trio his best glare, trying to show an united front.

It shouldn’t take much longer, Stephen thought, one of them will break soon…

“Wejustwantedyoutomakeup!” Peter yelled, giving in. The Sorcerer had to repeat and break down the sentence a couple of times in his mind to understand it, at the same time as Tony, apparently, because both blushed deeply.

“Pete-”

“I am sorry for the mess (not for the jokes, tho, those were hilarious and so worthy) but you were so unhappy!” the teen continued with his rant, not paying attention at his mentor frantically trying to shut him up. The Doctor felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“Kid-”

“You were miserable. And Dr. Strange wouldn’t visit for any reason so we had to do something that would force him to come and stay for more than five minutes. And the only way we came up with was getting caught.”

“Spiderling-”

“This big mess wasn’t part of the plan, believe me. But we had to get you two together in the same place and-”

“Peter! Enough!” Tony finally yelled, shutting the kid up. The genius sighed and ran his hand through his hair, before grabbing Peter by the shoulder. “Look, I appreciate what you (all of you) wanted to do, but you can’t force people to be in the same space when one of them obviously doesn’t want that. Boundaries, buddy. Just because I was sad and you wanted to see me better-”

“You think I’m only talking about you? Dr. Strange was also moping all over his books. Mr. Wong couldn’t stand his sighs and lost looks anymore.” The teen interrupted. Tony startled a bit at this but blinked it away.

“I’m sure it seemed that way, but-”

“He is right, Tony.” Stephen interrupted softly but firmly. He would not let this opportunity pass. “I was sad and unhappy, although ‘moping’ is-”

“-the right term for a person that spends their time mournfully looking at gifts someone else gave them; and for someone that sighs every five minutes because they are thinking of that special person; and if they are a mess-” Peter was interrupted when the Sorcerer cleared his throat loudly “-shutting up now.”

“As hard it is to admit it; the kid is right.” Stephen said, looking flustered. Tony squinted his eyes and crossed his arms, his body language defensive as hell.

Both adults focused on one another and ignored the audience they had (said audience wasn’t mature enough to leave them alone; more likely to take pictures of whatever outcome came to pass). The engineer looked at Stephen in the eye defiantly.

“I don’t buy it. If you were so ‘miserable’” you could practically hear the comas there “why stay away? I tried calling and texting, I went by the Sanctum and asked you to stay, but you just…ignored me.” He finished, hurt. Stephen closed his eyes and breathed through his closed throat.

“I know. I just…” he couldn’t find the words. The Sorcerer really wanted to fix this, but his brain was drawing a blank right now. How could he explain that he was so terrified of fucking things up that he had in fact, fucked things up?

“You just what?” Tony questioned, exasperated, after a few moments of silence. When the other man didn’t say a word, he threw his hands in the air and turned around, ready to leave.

“I was afraid I was going to lose you!” Stephen blurted out and then cringed. He knew what was coming. Tony turned around again and just looked at him.

“You were afraid you were gonna lose me, so you pushed me away?” he asked.

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s the truth.” Said the Doctor, taking a few steps until he was at the edge of entering Tony’s personal space.

“I don’t get it.” Stephen closed his fists and breathed out, reading himself to finally explain what was going through his mind.

“When we were in Titan, I saw millions of futures. In a few hundred thousand, we ended up together.” Stephen could see the barrier in Tony’s eyes breaking down a bit, so he took another step. “And Tony, we have so much potential. We could be so, so happy together.” He whispered, taking one trembling hand and placing it on the other man’s cheek. “Or we could end up so broken. We could hurt each other so much; or lose each other to our duties. Or worse: we could be blissfully happy despite everything the world threw at us, and then one of us would die and leave the other a hollow husk.” Stephen swallowed, and this time Tony took his other hand with one of his own. “I wanted…I didn’t want to make mistakes… and I was so afraid I would ruin everything. And for not telling you and talking to you about it, I ruined things anyway.” He said, dropping his head.

“Almost.” Tony whispered. Stephen looked up. “You almost ruined things.” The genius raised his free hand and cupped the sorcerer’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb. “I could tell right from the beginning that we had potential, and I didn’t need a shiny rock to do so. I could tell by just looking at us. We…we just fit.” Tony stood on his tiptoes and kissed Stephen’s cheek softly, before breathing on his lips and looking at him in the eye. “We will always make mistakes, Stephen.” He kissed the man in the other cheek without breaking eye contact and went back to breathing on his lips “But hid something like this from me again and I’ll kill you.” He threatened, before smashing his lips against the other man’s.  Stephen’s eyes went wide at the threat but closed immediately at the smoothness of Tony’s mouth.

They kissed passionately; Tony taking charge and biting lightly; making sure to prove his threat wasn’t in vain. Stephen let the genius guide the kiss for a few moments, before he closed his hand on the nape of Tony’s neck, hair between his fingers and demanded the brunette to allow him entrance. The engineer groaned into Stephen’s mouth and went pliant.

“Okay, that was cute but now it’s going into the ‘my-parents-are-kissing’ gross level.” Peter said, completely breaking the mood. “You should leave that for the bedroom, really.”

Tony planted his face on Stephen’s chest and groaned. The sorcerer kept his eyes closed despite the beeping sounds and his curiosity. He felt completely at ease.

“You got what you wanted. You couldn’t just leave?” he moaned.

“Nope, no way.” The teen smirked. “We are going to hold this over both of you forever. We were right! We were right!” he sang at the rhythm of Dum-E’s beeps.

The Doctor finally opened his eyes and he found that their three troublemakers were dancing at Dum-E’s beat; Peter with a huge smile on his face, Levi swooshing all around them and Dum-E spinning in circles.

He shared a look with Tony and both chuckled.

Their family might be weird and unique, but it was theirs.

#ironstrangebigbang #ironstrange #breyito writes

[yourarmynoona]

Red Light District || Chapter 1

(Moodboard by Me)

Description:  [Sex Worker!AU] [DomTae!AU] You were young, naive, and oh-so desperate to keep your head afloat in the big city. Working in the Red Light District was easy. Until he came along.

Rating: M

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader; Jungkook x Reader; Jimin x Jungkook x Reader; Taehyung x Jimin x Reader

Themes: S-M-U-T. Drugs, Alcohol, Sex, and mentions of abuse.

3.5k+ Words

Notes: Find the music for the dance scene here. This is the SECOND piece I’ve ever written for BTS AND THE LONG AF. I’m hoping to keep it to 5 chapters, though who knows. I get carried away.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

It was Friday evening and the city streets were beginning to fill with the sounds of patrons laughing and stumbling drunkenly about from one establishment to another. As the golden and lavender painted skies began to fade into a deep midnight blue scattered with glimmering orbs and the moon’s luminescence illuminating the glowing city skyline, a neon red glow begins to creep onto the damp asphalt and pavement of a familiar set of streets deep within the concrete jungle. The air is cool and damp, the familiar echo of footsteps following groups of men and women who cast shadows as they walk between the red hued lights filling large windows with scantily clad women and men in seductive poses or swaying their hips to the low thrum of music emanating from within their establishments.

Like any other Friday evening, your shift at Euphoria began as soon as the sun disappeared beneath the city skyline at 8pm sharp. Tonight was a special night, however. You had been working and dancing at Euphoria for almost 4 months since you had started going to college almost a year ago. Despite having excellent grades and doing well in High School, financial aid was barely enough to cover the tuition for your classes and your family could barely afford to send your younger brother to the private schools you had attended for the best education possible. It was tough at first. You had moved into a seedy apartment because the cost of housing was so high in the city and had spent nights unable to sleep between the domestic fights of your neighbors to your right, the loud drug-filled parties upstairs, police sirens, and the multiple part-time jobs you took to eat, pay your tuition, and not end up on the streets. After half a year of sleepless nights, tired and aching muscles, and struggling to not fall asleep in class, you had decided you had had enough. Searching through the various “Now Hiring” ads online in job forums, you had seen a tempting ad for weekend work with incredible pay and no experience required for women only. Normally, you would have been sketched out by the requirements for the job however, you were beyond exhausted and had made up your mind to toss your pride (and dignity) aside and take a chance on the job.

That was how you ended up at Euphoria as a dancer and server. Euphoria, compared to many other clubs and “hotels” in the area was higher-end with most clients and patrons paying thousands a night to see the most beautiful men and women dance at their feet or make their deepest, darkest fantasies come true. It was a large, spacious establishment with a large vaulted and mirrored ceiling that encompassed a central stage with two go-go cages at either end and three, iridescent poles, all illuminated by neon red and magenta lights surrounding the stage. There were various leather-clad booths with rich-wooded tables and private niches filled with large velvet cushions, inset leather couches, and weighted privacy curtains along the far wall with smaller pole platforms for entertainers strategically placed throughout. 

Euphoria dripped wealth and luxury for its patrons from the surroundings to the expensive top-shelf spirits that filled the enormous magenta-illuminated bar staffed with multiple bar tenders and bar backs shaking up the newest mixology creation or wiping down crystal glasses that hung from racks between the library of spirits that spanned to the ceiling. The venue began to glow with various shades of crimson and pink as a sensual playlist selected by the resident DJ began to play in the background. In addition to the vast stage and dancefloor, there was a long hallway between the VIP booths guarded by a singular man of abnormal size and musculature. One didn’t get to know what resided down the long, red-lit hallway. Unless they paid the right price, that is.

The night had only begun and men in crisp, dark business suits were filing in group by group as they checked with the resident bouncer to ensure their favorite booth or table had been reserved. There were attractive men and women beginning to sit beside patrons that were slowly becoming inebriated by alcoholic creations that would equate to a week’s pay for the average person. Girls with their perfect eyeliner, false eye lashes, and scarlet lips wearing revealing outfits laughing at haughty businessmen attempting to make small talk with them and muscled young men in tight fitting jeans with shirts unbuttoned to expose their finely chiseled chests serving refined older women with their legs neatly crossed in plush seats became a part of the highly orchestrated nightly activities that filled Euphoria.

At the moment, you were leaning over the bar requesting a drink for one of your regular patrons, Mr. Bong. Mr. Bong came in every Friday night and requested to be seated in your section and though he never requested services beyond perhaps the occasional private dance, he could be a handsy man. However, you most often didn’t mind because paid more than the average wealthy patron. From what you knew, he was the Chief Operations Officer for some major conglomerate, but the name currently escaped you. As you leaned over the bar to yell the order, the hem of your black bandage dress riding up your backside, a young bartender with a defined nose and large doe-eyes came over with his familiar bunny smile.

“___! Mr. Bong again? Is he having the usual Dalmore ’64?” he asked giving you a brief glance before sliding over a rolling redwood ladder that slid along the bar and reached the highest tiers of the library of liquor stocked at Euphoria.

“Yup! I swear, Jungkook, he should just buy the bottle. He has all this money and he just buys per glass. He knows we reserve bottles here” you kicked your legs off the bar, your breasts pressed to the bar and threatening to spill over the low neckline of your dress.

Jungkook just smiled as he quickly climbed up and down the ladder, bottle in hand. “You would think but eh, he can waste whatever money he wants here as long as he keeps tipping me good.” Jungkook grabbed out a cleanly wiped crystal glass, a round frozen whiskey stone, and began to pour the liquor carefully into the glass before recapping the oddly shaped bottle. You could only roll your eyes in response.

 Jungkook was only a year younger than you but he had come to the city with the dreams of becoming a singer and dancer. His family was much like yours in that they were not wealthy and he was having to pay his own tuition, thus he ended up becoming a bartender at Euphoria about the same time you started. The both of you shared a unique bond since you were the youngest of the staff and he was the only male on the crew who hadn’t made a pass at you in some way. Though you weren’t sure if it was because you had a special friendship or it was his naturally shyness around women. Even though the bar was illuminated by bright red and magenta, you could definitely see the times a heated blush rose to his cheeks when he glimpsed your breasts in a revealing outfit or a woman would touch his arm flirtatiously.

“You got that straight. I’ll be back soon for more so store the bottle. Don’t want you having to go up and down all night unless you’re getting paid for that” you laughed, your magenta lips peeled back into a smile as you laughed at the innuendo. Sliding the glass filled with the deep golden liquor in your direction, Jungkook just shook his head. You had to admit, he was finely muscled and extremely attractive with his pierced ears and the few tattoos you had glimpsed on his chest and upper arm. Maybe if there was a time you were both lonely one night, you wouldn’t say no. You gingerly grabbed the glass, giving Jungkook a final wink, and sauntered off back to Mr. Bong with a seductive smile. 

The next hour you spent in conversation with Mr. Bong, touching his arm delicately and speaking about the things you were familiar with, ushering him to perhaps seek a private dance with you before you were to go on stage. However, tonight he was far too inebriated and simply paid you a rather large tip from his Black AMEX card before you had to say your polite goodbyes.

The club was now packed and filled with not only the business types, but the young and wealthy socialites who were heirs to family companies and had come to blow off steam from their duties or education. There was an assortment of men and women of all ages who were in attendance as you made your way from the VIP booth with Mr. Bong, past the stage, and towards the back to get ready. Jungkook was extremely busy with a group of young men who looked like they had stepped out of a runway magazine and you could see the DJ, Yoongi who went by the alias AGUST D, was head bobbing as he began to mix a faster and more upbeat set of songs for the remainder of the night.

“Hey, _____! You look positively gorgeous tonight” you heard a voice call. It was Jimin. He, like you, was a server and entertainer. Jimin, however, was the most in-demand dancer at Euphoria. He had grown up and danced for most of his life, which had afforded him a lean and muscled physique that looked as if it was sculpted by the gods. Jimin had been dancing at Euphoria for the last year and was known by his stage name, “Christian”, after a drunken night where he had gone from his sweet and cheeky demeanor to straight Dom, pushing down and spanking poor Yoongi who was just trying to get him to sober up. Jimin had regal and princely features with his jet black hair parted neatly down the center, plush lips, and the copious amount of silver rings and earrings he wore. He walked the line of androgyny quite well and both men and women loved him.

“Thanks Jimin! I’m going to try something new tonight and hope I don’t bust my ass” you said sarcastically, slipping on your black silk robe.

“Oh? Something new you say?” Jimin remarked with his best acting.

You giggled, placing one foot up on a nearby chair as you strapped your patent leather platform heels on.

“Duh, I’m going for this new ‘Subby Leather Vixen’ vibe. I feel like I’ve been playing it too sweet this entire time.”

Jimin opened his mouth in an ‘O’ in understanding. He was a very seductive dancer and naturally good at it. You however, had to adjust and become comfortable before exploring the direction you wanted your stage personal to take. There were a handful of girls and guys in the coed dressing room currently other than you and Jimin who were chatting and laughing as they applied copious amounts of makeup or changed into their outfits for the night. Untying your robe and slipping it down your shoulders to take a look in the full-length mirror of the dressing room you heard a whistle from behind and a catcall coming from Jimin.

“Ah ____ I love it!” Jimin cheered grasping you in a rather large hug from behind, his chin resting on your bare shoulder. “You know, I’d totally be down to fuck one of these days if you wanted” Jimin said seductively, his dark hooded eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the mirror as he gently rocked your body in his arms. You blushed as you laughed out of his grasp, your nose scrunched at his comment. Jimin was indeed shameless.

“Jimin! I thought you were all over that Min-booty last time we were out? And hey, what about Jungkook? I could have sworn you said you were going to get in his pants by the end of this year?” You said jokingly, your hands adjusting your faux-leather bra-top and your faux-leather thong that had an “X” of tiny chains across the front. Jimin simply laughed and clicked his tongue. Bingo.

“Yoongi, maybe if I was super drunk again and Jungkook clearly has a thing for you. Not stepping on toes there ____. Though I wouldn’t mind jumping in on some action between you two so-“

“Foxx on in 3!” the stage manager called, promptly interrupting Jimin’s comment and much to your satisfaction.

“Gotta go Chimchim, see you in a few!” you scampered out of the dressing room, your platform stilettos clattering across the hardwood of the dressing room and into the crimson lit hallway as you laughed at Jimin’s displeased expression. You just had to love his brashness. Jimin was pretty much your best friend and even though he joked about sex with you from time to time, you wondered how much truth there was to it. A part of you really wouldn’t mind. After all, the night Jimin had gone total Dom on Yoongi was also a night you had made out with him and if his kissing was any inclination as to how he could fuck, you were probably down to do it. It was better fucking a friend by choice and having a good time than someone you had met five minutes prior.

You were waiting patiently for the girl before you to finish her routine, her body sliding to the floor in rhythm with the end of the heavy guitar riff and the lights cutting out. As men cheered for her and the lights dimmed up only slightly, you could see the bouncer assist her in gathering the wads of money that she had been writhing in only moments earlier right before the stage manager approached her. She was going to get lucky tonight. One of the men in the audience was intrigued enough to pay for her private services.

In just under a minute, that was going to be you.

Removing your loose silk robe and hanging it on the doorhanger in the hallway entrance behind a heavy velvet curtain, you did a series of hops to shake off your nerves. It wasn’t the first time you had gone out there but the nerves never seemed to go away.

“You’re on!” the stage manager called from behind you.

You put on your best act and sauntered out from behind the curtain, a brilliant spotlight on you. It followed your form as you crossed one foot in front of the other and walked up the stairs to the platform, the pulsating rhythms creeping into your body, making your body fill with a passion and desire that even the most heated lover could only hope to give you. Your song, “Wicked Games” was playing and it never failed to turn you into the vixen men dreamed of.

You walked slowly, seductively, your hips exaggerating a drop with every cross of your black stilettos before you. You worked your hands over the bare flesh on the outer part of your thighs and drug them hashly, sensually across the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts, running them behind your neck to raise your hair up in unison with the beat and the slow, passionate sway of your hips.

You swayed your hips side to side, creating an infinite pattern you were slowly losing yourself in. Your hands wandered from behind your neck and crossed around your throat with your thumbs running along your plush, magenta lips before sliding back down your breasts, stomach, and along your thighs as you dipped down low to the ground, spreading your knees outwards and swinging your hair around. Slowly you brought your thighs together and slid forwards onto the floor reaching outwards on the black reflective stage.

That’s when you saw him.

He was a man of about your age, dressed in a plum silk shirt and dark slacks, his legs crossed elegantly as he reclined deep into the velvet of a VIP couch. Something about him was alluring and his ash brown hair was doing little to hide a carnal stare of dark eyes following your every movement. Your eyes met his and you beckoned him forwards from his seat with a long, elegant curl of your fingers before turning around and laying down onto the stage, writhing as if in pure ecstasy. With your arms above your head, you kicked your legs straight upwards, making small languid circles before letting them fall open and down, bringing them to an angle to which you swiveled your hips as if seeking pleasure from a lover.

Though your eyes were closed, you could feel his eyes on you, his heated gaze ready to set your skin alight. Bringing your legs together, you swiveled them together to position your body on all fours. You were going to make sure to give him a show he’ll never forget. With the bass pulsing deep inside your veins, your rolled your body upwards, your hands grasping a chrome pole before you. You could see his lust. Bringing your hands to your top, you leisurely unzipped your top, letting your naked breasts free. His tongue ran leisurely across his wonderfully plump lips as you tossed your top aside and grasped the pole, walking gracefully around before pulling your body upwards, your legs tightly wrapped around the pole as it spun. You closed your eyes and let go.

You bent back with your arms outstretched before grasping the pole and splaying your legs open as the pole carried your magenta and crimson illuminated figure delicately in a circle. As you spun, you lowered your body, grasping the pole lightly and letting your legs carry you around before they met the floor. His searing gaze fueled your desire. With hands holding tightly, you grasped the pole tightly and flipped yourself onto the pole, your thighs tightly clamping to the slick metal so that you could reach outwards, as if beckoning him to come to you. Your body was feeling hotter than normal as the cold metal of the pole stung at the flesh of your thighs as you slid to the floor and crawled on all fours one last time towards the edge of the stage.

Your veins were coursing with desire as you noticed he was waiting for your attention, his teeth with a firm grasp on his lower lip. With a swing of your hair and roll of your hips, you brought your hands to his face, running a thumb across his bruised lip. Your breath quickened when you felt him take a thumb into his mouth and suck it harshly as he stared into your eyes as if trying to penetrate the darkest depths of your soul. Your thumb slid out from between his lips and your hands worked down his throat and to his chest before you brought them to the floor. He grimaced at the loss of contact and you could tell he desperately wanted to reach out and touch you.

The music began to fade as you sauntered back to the pole to grind passionately on it, your hips swiveling back and forth and into circles. His eyes were hungry for your body and you wanted him to know exactly what you would do with him if he was willing to pay the right price. As the music dissipated and lights dimmed low, leaving only the neon glow of the stage, you left the stage, giving one last glance in his direction.

By the time you had left stage, cheers and whistles erupted from above the music and the MC made his announcements about how to meet with you.

When you got back stage and grabbed your robe. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Your fingers were aflame.

Your core was throbbing.

You prayed desperately that he was going to have you tonight. If you didn’t get a chance to fuck him, you thought you would end up having to finger-fuck yourself into oblivion to relieve the tension his gaze and mouth had created.

“Oh my God ____! That was SO HOT! I’d sell my firstborn to get a chance with you tonight! I haven’t seen you perform that way in ages. Who got you horny?” Jimin was shouting excitedly as you made your way down the hallway.

“Oh my God Chimchim!” you blushed, “I was just feeling it tonight is all.”

“Lies, all of it.”

You smirked and held back a laugh.

“Okay maybe. There’s this guy out there, he looks like a fucking model. He’s wearing this dark purple silk shirt and dark slacks. He’s sitting right in the front VIP area and-“

“WAIT. Oh my God, ____! That’s V! He’s a famous model and actor! He’s pretty much the hottest thing out there right now. You’re so lucky ___! I’d kill for a guy like him.”

“V? Like, the V from that one period drama series?!”

“YES FROM THE PERIOD DRAMA SERIES!”

Jimin was grabbing your hands and leaning close as he excitedly explained just who the VIP in the front row was. V was his stage name but apparently he was an international model for GUCCI and also acted in a new show on TV. You didn’t get to watch television much but if Jimin knew who he was, he must be big. Jimin was a pop culture aficionado who knew everything and anything current about celebrities not simply from TV, but because he had habit of befriending anyone and everyone who was of some importance. He had a way with schmoozing his way into ritzy parties and taking you along for the ride. And you thought that part of him would never come in handy.

“___, I have a request to meet with you. VIP in booth #7. Willing to paydown big bucks for a night. Come out when you’re ready” the stage manager called out to you and you felt your heart stutter.

“___ THIS IS IT. You’re going to get to fuck the one person guys and girls only dream of!” Jimin was cheering as you rolled your eyes and walked off, slipping your bandage dress overhead and leaving the dressing room. Jimin was too excited for his own good.

And you were more nervous than you had ever been.

#kwriterskollection #btsprotectnet #bangtanarmynet #RLD #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #taehyung x reader #bts v x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x jungkook #taehyung x jimin x reader #park jimin #bts jimin #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #min yoongi #bts army #bts suga #suga #yourarmynoona #yourarmynoonawrites #your army noona writes

[starry-kfics]

roses [p.jw]

word count: 6,552 

warnings: language, i dont know how guns work, gangs and mafia mention, alcohol mention, smoking mention, death

author: krys

extra info: spy au request ;)

“You know who to call"

♡

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customer and pulled you out of an oncoming drowsy haze. Putting on a sweet, customer service smile, you took a deep inhale through the nose to bring feeling back to your senses. You immediately recognized the patron, and with a glance to the wall clock on your left, you confirmed the shopper's identity.

'Coming to the store by schedule.' You noted, sniffing a bit as you casually watched your usual customer, Mrs. Lee, go straight to the refrigerators to grab a pack of beer. You took another glance to the clock. 'She came in at 3:30 today, so she's going to be a bit more talkative than usual.'

You pretended to busy yourself before the middle-aged woman strolled up to the cashier. Throwing another grin, you scanned her case of beer and the green lighter she also placed onto the counter.

"Everything worked alright for you Mrs. Lee?" You carefully asked the woman as she pulled out her wallet. You cringed internally when the disgusting, crusty leopard print design came into your view. As much as you cared about your few regular customers, you despised the ugly hand wallet Mrs. Lee kept with her. It seemed to never match with what she was wearing, and it tended to cause her vicinity to smell like smoke. The only good thing about it is that the wallet looked so revolting and noticeable, no pickpocketer dared to steal the cash-filled coin purse.

"Yes, thank you for asking, darling." Mrs. Lee replied as she searched for the right credit card, her deep voice very familiar to your ears. "I would also like a pack of the Rosettes, please." Expecting her request, you speedily brought out her usual pack of cigarettes, and added up her total.

"Today seems a bit chilly, isn't it?" Mrs. Lee brought up surprisingly. She never started conversations- you usually did due to an unspoken sign of submissiveness. Mrs. Lee's character was somewhat of a matriarch, if not then a position higher than that.

Professionally going with the flow, you politely chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Every time someone opens the door I can feel an even colder draft come in. I hope that those working outside don't get sick." You said as you took Mrs. Lee's card and swiped it, returning it  when the payment was made.

"... You are so kind, (Name)-ssi. I wish more people could be like you." Mrs. Lee inclined in a stern tone as she put her wallet away in her large, fur coat.  You had no words to respond with, only opting to smile embarrassedly as she took her plastic bag. You knew that Mrs. Lee didn't like her beer to be handed back to her.

Mrs. Lee made direct eye contact with you, and for some reason you felt like cowering away in fear. "I almost feel jealous when you mention the door opening often. Promise me that I am your favorite customer, (Name)?" You nodded earnestly to the woman, and she let her lips curl into an innocent, yet unsettling smile.

Waving off the regular customer, you once again leaned against the counter. You took pride in having regulars at your little convenience store. You owned the place, and even held residency on the second floor. You think the only reason why you got it is because the space was located on the border of the bustling city and the crime-filled slums, in which teemed with felons and gangs. Also, because one of the windows was busted, but you managed to fix that up your own!

Another buzz from the doorbell initiated the appearance of another customer. You don't think you had ever seen him before, since you were sure that you would remember someone who was that good-looking walking into your store. He wore a baggy, green bomber jacket, and a white t-shirt tucked inside black skinny jeans. His light brown hair was long enough to slick back to show his forehead, and you noticed that he wore an earpiece.

You shuffled a tad closer to the cashier. You had your fair share of misfits to enter your store, since it was the closest shop near the slums that wasn't owned by a gang. Earpieces meant business. Especially when they are owned by sharp-looking, handsome individuals. Sharp-looking, handsome individuals with business always spelled out trouble.

The patron took his time walking through the few ailes, and if you ceased all movement for a few heartbeats then you could faintly tell that he was communicating to someone on the earpiece. His voice was ever so quiet, as if he has done this many times.

He strolled to your counter, him scratching his face as he subtly observed the rest of the store- including you. You rung up his ice cream and bottle of persimmon juice. What gang could he possibly be from?

"I would also like to purchase these cigarettes." His strong voice made the butterflies in your chest lift your focus up. You looked at the picture taped on the counter he was pointing to, and you sharply exhaled through your nose in amusement. He chose the Rosettes. No one ever bought them due to them being too pricey for a low-quality smoke. You only kept them in stock because Mrs. Lee asked you.

"You don't look like the type to smoke," you remarked as you added the cost. The man's eyes were trained onto his wallet. It was of a dark brown color, and the material seemed to be new leather.

'A wallet like that is the kind that pickpocketers aim to steal... Unless... He has confidence in himself that they wouldn't get away from him...'

The customer looked up and softly smiled. "A lot of people don't look what they seem." You let a charming grin make way onto your lips, and you take his cash, pressing a few buttons on the cashier.

You took a few seconds before you responded. "Well, maybe we're looking at them the wrong way to come to that conclusion. Here's your change.” You made eye contact with the customer and smiled. “Have a nice day!" You hastily handed the bag to the customer.

He lifted an eyebrow. "That was quick. What's the hurry?" You slightly tilted your head to the side, your eyes lighting up.

"Your pal on the other end of your call sounds like he's getting impatient. I can hear him yelling your ear off from the other side of the counter." The noise emitting from the earpiece ceased once you said that, and you let out a breathy chuckle.

"Tell them that I said hi, and that they should shop here as well.” You sniffed and glanced to the clock on your side.

“Be careful walking out; I have a gang that likes to come in about five minutes. You don't want to meet them." The customer stared at you for a few more moments before breezing out the store. You let out the breath that you were unconsciously holding.

Myungjun annoyingly clapped his hands when Jinwoo opened the car door. He plopped into the driver's seat and glared at his partner.

"Shut it, or else you're not getting your juice." Myungjun opted to obnoxiously smile as he took the plastic bag from Jinwoo, placing the cigarettes in a ziplock bag.

“‘Rosettes.’ Hopefully we can track down the blackmailer after testing these with the buds we found in Mr. Choi’s office.” Myungjun uttered. Jinwoo nodded as Myungjun carefully stowed the bag away in the glove compartment before taking the rest of the contents out.

“This is the only local store that sells the brand, so if they do match up, then our blackmailer has visited the store before.”

‘Or works there.’

"You two had an interesting exchange there," Myungjun quipped up before taking a sip of juice. Jinwoo's eyes burned holes towards the entrance of the convenience store as he snacked on his ice cream.

"Next time, don't flood the comms with your incessant 'shot-calling.' I don't need to know every single movement update your software gives you on my surroundings." Myungjun scoffed and caressed the closed laptop resting on his legs to his chest.

"Be glad that you have someone here watching your back. My advanced software allows you to know where the trouble is coming so you don't have to be apart of it. That's the job, after all." Myungjun pouted, careful to place the bottle of juice away from his high-class equipment. Jinwoo internally rolled his eyes and pulled the car away from its hidden, secluded parked space.

"We're coming back here next week. Same day, same time. I think we found ourselves a good hook of information." Jinwoo reported, his eyes trained on the road. Myungjun hummed in agreement. "Yessir."

This schedule goes on for nearly a month. You picked up on the routine quickly. First, Mrs. Lee comes in and purchases her usual pack of beer, any other necessity, and Rosettes. Then, the sharp-looking, handsome individual comes in about two to ten minutes after, usually buying a snack, permission juice, and Rosettes as well. This pattern was terribly confusing to you, because you could not figure out why it commenced in the first place. Ever since it has been recurring, Mrs. Lee has been nicer and nicer to you, and the mysterious man has been starting more casual conversations with you. You weren’t complaining, however, because that meant more business and more time to stare at your sharp-looking and handsome regular when he knows you’re looking but acts like he doesn’t know.

Mr. Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome was currently patting himself down, looking for his wallet in his jacket of multiple pockets. There was a group of students and a few stray thugs roaming around in the store.

This was the fourth time that he had visited your store that week. You sighed and handed the plastic bag to the man. He never gave you a credit card whenever he purchased, so you could never pick up his name. That only made you more suspicious of him, and yet you didn't mind his company one bit. You two always made delightful conversation when you could, and your mysterious customer was really good at making you talk.

"Here, just take your items. I can hear your friend again on the earpiece. The volume isn't even that high." You informed with an amused smile. Your customer shook his head, rejecting the offer.

"I can't take it for free, I know I have my wallet somewhere in here-" You cut him off, waving your hand as you leaned over the counter so the man would be forced to take his bag.

"You're a regular here and my regulars have perks. If it really pains you, then you can come back tomorrow and pay me back." The customer paused for a moment, before shooting you with a grateful smile as he took the bag from your hands.

"Ever since I started shopping here, you really like to point out my earpiece." The customer reported as he took the bag. You smiled as you restocked the cigarettes under the counter.

"I have good hearing because I need to listen for mischievous activities in my shop. I do have a camera, but lately it has been malfunctioning so I have to stick with my senses." You saw the customer nod in response in the corner of your eye as you continued to organize the little boxes. His companion on the ongoing call was silent once more.

"I guess I have a knack for spying on others. I was thinking to get the camera system uninstalled to save some money and electricity, but I need it in here by law." You stood back up to place an empty box off to the side. "I guess it's for safety precautions as well. If something big happens in here then the government has footage to put on the news or something."

"So you're not scared of all of the criminals who come into your store?" The customer asked almost suddenly. You shrugged and leaned against the counter, resting your chin on your hand.

"I'm used to them by now. I don't ask questions and I seldom give information when they ask, so I consider my shop to normally be a neutral zone," you replied, examining the customer. "Also, what name do you go by, since I have known you for nearly a month and yet I don't know many details about you."

"Well, what details do you know about me?" Asked Mr. I'm-Avoiding-Questions-And-Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome, a calming smile pairing with his question. You pressed your lips together before continuing.

"Well, I can tell that you are a trained talker since you just avoided a personal question about yourself in a very smooth manner. You wear an earpiece, which is highly suspicious around these parts, and you always buy Rosettes when you come in. Patterns are always noticeable." You unfolded your arms and used them to hold yourself over the counter, getting right into the personal space of the man across from you. "But..." You said in a quiet tone, your voice cracking from the lack of effort to make noise. Your head was so close to your regular's collarbone, you could've placed a kiss on his chin if you looked up.

The man was frozen, watching you with curious eyes as you leaned back into a comfortable position. "You don't smell like a smoker and I highly doubt your Earpiece Friend is one too." You shifted your weight onto one leg. "You aren't who you seem to be, aren't you?"

Before Jinwoo could respond, his breath got caught in his throat when his Earpiece Friend suddenly screeched into his eardrums.

"WAIT THERE'S ANOTHER GANG COMING IN AND BY THE INSIGNIA ON THEIR BACKS I DON'T THINK THIS IS GOOD JINWOO JINWOO JINWOO JINWOO YOU HAVE TO LEAVE-"

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customers and pulled you out of your serious moment with your regular. Your breath hitched in your throat when you recognized the infamous callsign on the matching jackets.

"HEY! Look-y what we got here. It's a group of rats." Called out a harsh voice from the new group. The stray thugs who were in your shop formed into a defensive blob against the new group.

Just when innocents were present in your store, a gang fight just has to break out.

“This isn’t going to end well,” you mumbled darkly to your regular, your body ready to jump to action at any given moment. Your regular stayed quiet, observant of the escalating situation.

“Do you really want to start something right now? Are you that pugnacious to pick a fight in here, or are you so inexperienced and hungry for a fight that you don’t mind being plummeted by us?” The leader of the thugs jeered in a descending tone, her eyes seeming to burn the jackets and their owners with a menacing glare. The students who were also in the shop fearfully darted behind a rack of cans, and you could hear their frightened whimpers from the other side of the store.

The situation took off when the leader of the matching jackets pulled out a gun, causing the thugs to quickly reveal their firearms as well. There was a short window of heartbeats when all was still. You managed to get around to the other side of the counter as the two gang leaders had their stare down, but before you could intervene, your mysterious regular was quicker to react.

“I don’t think you guys would want to start a fight right now,” your regular began as he took one nonchalant step forward. The leaders of both groups shot their heads towards him, watching his every move.

“Those cameras in the corners can pick every single identification detail on all of us here, so I suggest that we put our guns down and take this outside.” Your regular’s tone was emotionless and stern, which you were surprised that he was capable of being such a frightening man. All the reason that the two leaders of the group glared at each other as they slowly lowered their weapons, causing the others to follow.

“H-hey!”

Your sudden exclaim caused one of the more jittery gang members in a jacket to flash up his gun in response to the sound. Jinwoo glanced in your direction to notice that one of the thugs has taken the opportunity to get to the unsupervised cashier, in which you were attempting to defend with a counter in your way.

With lightning speed, Jinwoo had short-distance sprinted towards the gunman, grabbed his armed wrist tightly, and twisted the gun out of the gunman’s grasp with another hand. Without looking back, Jinwoo aimed the gun out to his side, effectively stopping the burglar-thug in her tracks.

Without wasting any time, you swiped the bag out of the thug’s arms. Jinwoo narrowed his eyes before pulling the trigger, a harmless click being the only result.

Jinwoo tossed the empty gun to the thug, who caught it effectively. He coldly faced the other two groups.

“I think it’s time that you both leave. Now.”

With just that short statement, all of the members of the respective groups filtered out of the store, being careful to not brush the enemy on the shoulder. Jinwoo stood a ways behind the two retreating groups to be sure that no more funny business happened on your property. All of this happened in roughly two minutes.

After the humming of a rugged van and multiple bikes droned out into the distance, he turned back to find you conversing with the shaken up students. His chest flipped ever so slightly when he noticed their bright auras were now long gone, you trying to offer them free bags of chips to bring their liveliness back.

“I can escort you guys back to your school if you are scared to walk around outside,” your regular brought up as he walked up behind you. The students all nodded their heads earnestly, and you shot a warm, thankful smile to your mysterious patron, in which he tried to ignore so the butterflies in his chest don’t break through his professionalism.

“That would be absolutely wonderful if you have the time.” You turned back to the students. “I am so sorry that you guys have to see that. You can pick out more snacks before you go home if you want, but consider this the only time I’m allowing it.” The students each breathed out their thanks to you and your regular as they quickly made their way towards the chip aisle, some holding each other close for emotional support.

“And you-” You started as you turned towards Mr. I-Just-Stopped-A-Shootout-From-Happening-While-Still-Staying-Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome, “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here.” You let out a breathy, relieved chuckle. “We would have been goners if you didn’t jump in and negotiate and do whatever that disarming move was. I think I really owe you my life for that one.”

Your regular shot you an eye-smile that warmed your entire heart. “I’m glad that I was able to keep you and the store safe.” He sighed as the two of you migrated back to the counter. He stopped abruptly, which nearly caused you to run into him. Your patron turned around.

“I think that you should really invest in a better camera system- I know a guy who could help you with that. I’m surprised that you don’t have something better than this simple stuff, since you are so close to a mafia-heavy area.” He was currently standing in front of you, eyes slightly widened in concern as they traversed the background of the store before settling on you. “We can’t risk another moment when you or the store can be superseded by bad people. Me not doing anything to help is basically putting you in danger.”

It was as if your customer’s personality had completely changed, comparing his earlier performance to his current actions. You actually found it a bit cute that your regular was fretting over you after this one small event. You dared not to inform him about the multiple times you had to “dismiss” perpetrators of bad behavior from your storefront. This was one of the first times in a long time that someone has actually cared about you and your location genuinely, and it made your heart race with affection on the inside.

“And what about your room on the second floor? When you’re not looking, thugs could sneak up and steal your belongings in a breeze if you don’t have a strong enough security system. We should start on that so that none of your belongings get taken.” Your customer continued to ramble on, his voice in a higher pitch that usual. What caught him off guard was your glazy smile that warmly formed on your face.

“I really do appreciate how you are trying to look after me after this scare,” you started to cut him off for good, “but I believe that I will be able to handle myself. I mean, look how far I have gotten at this point!” You giggled lightly to lessen the tension, which influenced your patron to let a small smile break through as well.

“I am fully capable of fending my store for myself, but if you wish to put a new camera system in here with the intentions of you paying it yourself, then by all means, go ahead. But, for now-” You grabbed the forgotten plastic bag that was by the counter, and handed it to your patron. “I guess that you will have to stay here a lot more to watch out for any bad guys.” With a wink, you went back behind the counter. It was silent for a lengthy amount of heartbeats, until your regular spoke up in a quiet, low voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that?” You inquired. The patron cleared his throat and with a fully neutral, but caring expression began again.

“My name is Park Jinwoo, and… I am a spy. I was hired to track down an infamous blackmailer, and I was assigned to be here for a month because my employer thought it was you. But after knowing you for nearly a month, I don’t think that you are as bad as my employer says you are.” There were barely a few seconds until you spoke up.

“You’re a spy?” You seemed to say this more than ask it, which threw Jinwoo off.

“Yes, I am a professional private spy, along with my friend, who is on the other end of the earpiece I constantly use.” You nodded without saying anything else. Jinwoo noticed that Myungjun was quiet on the other side, which was not too abnormal.

“I think after all of this time of coming to your store everyday, you should be aware of this by now. The main reason I am telling you, however, is so that you may be able to help me find the blackmailer. You said yourself that you have good hearing, so you can be our ears while my partner can be our eyes.” He produced a small, plastic, light gray rectangle with a sleek, square button from one of his pockets, and placed it on the counter in front of you.

“You can use this to alert me if anything goes wrong. I am about 73% sure that our target already knows of this compliance, so be sure to press this button if you’re in trouble, alright?” You were still quiet, only allowing nods and wayward eyes to be your forms of responses. Jinwoo smiled. He reached a hand to clasp onto your bicep in an affectionate manner.

“If need any help at all, sense some suspicious activity, or just want a friend to go out and drink coffee with, you know who to call.” And with that, the Sharp-Looking and Handsome Park Jinwoo was out the door with his plastic bag and a trail of students following him.

You picked up the calling device and rolled it around in your hand, your eyes taking in every detail of the remote. You huffed in amusement.

“Haven’t seen one of these in a while.”

It has been about another month now since Jinwoo had revealed himself to you. The only thing that has changed in the routine since then was that Mrs. Lee was coming to your store less frequently. You didn’t mind at all, because this possibly meant a chance to finally drop the nasty Rosette brand, but you also felt like there was a hole in your heart from missing one of your long-term regulars.

Though, you had Jinwoo to fill that hole up. Jinwoo seemed to be more drawn to your store after revealing that he was a spy. He always tried to visit every day of the week now, and would spend time with you in the store until you kick him out for “scaring off customers and being a distraction.”

When Jinwoo got back to his car after completing a small side-mission, he was surprised to find a panicking Myungjun talking feverishly to the console tablet, but was soon filled with dread when he noticed who his partner was talking to.

“Mr. Park, so nice of you to finally join us.” Mr. Choi greeted once the spy entered the driver’s seat. Jinwoo nodded and held his tongue, allowing his current employer to speak.

“I was just telling Mr. Kim here how it has been… let me see- two months since I have paid you for this assignment? And what progress have you made today?” Mr. Choi asked with a forceful, quizzical tone, his hands folded in front of the camera. He was iconically wearing a business suit with an eye patch wrapped around his head, and Jinwoo could tell from his background that he was in an office looking over the inside of a busy factory.

Jinwoo cleared his throat and took a healthy inhale. He wasn’t given enough time to mentally prepare himself to talk to the temperamental Mr. Choi. “Sir, I would like to inform you once more that it is crucial that we are careful when going into the field, since our target is-”

“Our target is a liar, a bitch, and a fucking piece of trash, and I am fully aware of these things because each second I am losing my shares and property one piece at a time. My money is being drained like bathwater, and what do I do everyday? Sit in my little office and call you two shitheads, only to be told that you are pussying out of doing your job.” Jinwoo could tell that Myungjun had fearfully glanced in his direction, but Jinwoo didn’t looked back. Mr. Choi had been exploding more as the days turned into weeks, and Jinwoo was using all of his people skills to keep their employer at bay.

“We are close to being able to approach our target, and I believe that we will soon be able to retrieve your stolen information. It will only take a few more days-” Jinwoo tried to negotiate, but Mr. Choi wasn’t having any of it.

“You have been saying that for the past month, Mr. Park, but I’m afraid that I have waited too long. I’m going to our main point once that damned blackmailer gets there on schedule, and I’m going to take matters in my own hands. Back-up help is welcomed.” Mr. Choi bitterly informed the spy duo.

“W-wait, that’s not smart-” “Mr. Choi, please think of the consequences-!” Both Myungjun and Jinwoo yelled towards the tablet, but their employer ended the call. Myungjun’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly ajar.

“What are we going to do, Jinwoo? The real blackmailer is probably already in transit to the store, and we are on the other side of the district. If the blackmailer and Mr. Choi clash right now…” Jinwoo and Myungjun fearfully made eye contact.

“I gave (Name) my Caller, so once they press that, the emergency boosts will be activated, and I will be able to drive us there in time.” With that statement, Myungjun seemed to jump in his seat immediately.

“You told (Name) our identity?! Jinwoo, when was the last time you went over the definition of a spy?! We can’t have an innocent citizen involved in this mess! You just put them in more danger than they already have been for the past two months!” Jinwoo pressed his lips together tightly, giving a few heartbeats to get the car started and going before responding.

“I trust (Name). They have experience in dealing with conflict.” Jinwoo said, driving as fast as possible without crashing or catching attention of the police. Myungjun quickly and clumsily slipped out his laptop, typing in several streams of input before stopping to carefully observe the store cameras.

“I don’t see anything happening right now. The store is empty, and (Name) is just sitting at the counter… Wait... ” Myungjun trailed off.

“Oh my god...  This is a clip of footage from earlier. It’s just repeating. The blackmailer already knows.” Jinwoo felt his stomach drop, and he gripped the steering wheel to prevent himself doing anything drastic. Just then, the green distress light on the console lit up, and Myungjun was quick to press it.

“(Name) made the call. There is an even amount of chance that either our blackmailer or Mr. Choi are the cause of the distress signal, since Mr. Choi doesn’t know what the blackmailer looks like, so (Name) is in double the danger. Hopefully it’s him, or else the bigger storm has already hit.” Jinwoo announced in a straight tone. His heart and mind was racing laps all over as he thought of all of the possible situations you may be in at that current moment. He didn’t want any blood to be apart of this mission, especially from someone who didn’t deserve to be apart of this in the first place

Jinwoo got to your store in record time, him and Myungjun out of the car in a flash. Jinwoo noticed one car outside the store, which nearly calmed his rushing heart.

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customers and pulled away Jinwoo’s luck. Mr. Choi was present in the store, his back to the entrance and a gun stretched out in front of him. However, a woman was in the store as well, standing a ways away from Mr. Choi, and her gun firmly placed on the side of your head.

“Jinwoo, so nice of you and Myungjun to join Mr. Choi, sweet (Name), and I. Did you come here to pick up another pack of Rosettes? You have good taste.” Mrs. Lee asked the spy. Jinwoo felt immediate distress from the sight of you. You weren’t struggling in her arms, and the supposed blackmailer didn’t seem to have to keep a death grip around you to stop you from running. The woman either had you completely petrified in her arms, or you were ahead of the game and did not move in fear that she would start using the gun that was to your head.

“Silly me, I haven’t formally introduced myselves to you all. Hello, my name is Lee Boyoung, and I like to hack into people’s private information for fun. I’m sure Mr. Choi here is very familiar with my work.” Boyoung smiled innocently. “I have been visiting sweet (Name)’s store on a schedule for nearly a year now, so I guess you can say we are close.” Boyoung hugged you closer when she said that, you incredibly stiff.

“I am going to need an explanation for all of this, right now.” Jinwoo vocalized in a firm, hostile tone, deathly careful of each action he carried out.

“Of course, I was just about to inform Mr. Choi here about this whole inconvenience. My thanks for getting here now, since reiterating things are not my passion. Those little… What do you call them? Callers? Are quite effective. ” Boyoung said. Mr. Choi still kept his stance, his raised arms not showing any fatigue, but his conscious radiating curiosity.

“Let’s start off with an apology. I’m sorry to lie to you all, but I actually don’t like Rosettes. They were my father’s favorite brand, however, so I have been ceremoniously purchasing them to mix with his ashes- his request, not mine. Well, soon enough, all of the other drug stores in this district have been dropping the Rosette brand, so I had to go out and search for another source. And guess who was the only one close enough to this district who sold Rosettes?” Jinwoo met eyes with you at that very moment. He admired the fact that you were effectively keeping your breathing in calm cadences, but your eyes held all of your true emotions. They held all of the terror and dread that they could hold, and Jinwoo had to hold his breath to stop him from jumping in right then and there to save you.

“I didn’t think much of this dingy place when I stepped in, but once I saw sweet (Name), I knew  that I won the jackpot. I found a small, unnoticeable corner store that sold Rosettes, was visited by many gang-related individuals, and owned by an unbiased ex-spy? It was like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.” Boyoung gave her signature, sickly sweet grin, licking her teeth before going close to your ear and softly purring, “You can explain your story for the rest of them, (Name). I feel I set everything up for you.”

You took a deep breath, as that was the only voluntary move you dared to practice. It was as if you were already prepared for the confession to be gutted out.

“I… I used to do undercover private work around the two districts.” Cue Jinwoo and Myungjun’s eyes widening and their stances slacking ever so slightly. “I decided to stop before the consequences of my job overruled my life. I wanted to start fresh with my real identity, so I came here and made this place my home, with the intentions of never getting involved in anymore messes.” Boyoung chuckled from your tight comment, but didn’t say anything.

Jinwoo stayed quiet and frozen. He didn’t want the words “Why didn’t you tell me?” the first ones he said to you. He didn’t know what to ask at all. He knew that he should have seen the signs from before, since no true civilian would dare to start a business in this area. He might have been able to protect you better.

“I’m sorry that I led your little bloodhounds to this place, Mr. Choi. I should have chosen a far better location.” Boyoung mentioned, her head tilted to the side to feign innocence.

“That means that you purposely led Mr. Choi here so that he would think (Name) was you.” Myungjun said quietly. The pieces were now starting to magnetize together in Jinwoo’s brain.

“And when (Name) proved that they were hard to claim for your own gang, you made Mr. Choi storm down here to take out what you couldn’t take in the first place!” Jinwoo finished off. Boyoung hummed in affirmation.

“See, putting the puzzle pieces wasn’t that hard. You put your money in a good place, Mr. Choi.” Boyoung remarked. That caused whatever switch that turned off the man to start him running again.

“My money? You mean the money that you have stolen and are mining from me right now? I’m here to get my property back and revenge.” Mr. Choi nearly snarled out in a sharp tone, him taking a few steps forward. Boyoung quickly shifted the gun to your back with lightning speed, causing you to tightly press your lips and furrow your eyebrows together as if you were keeping back a whimper. Jinwoo felt like hell watching you fearfully stand between two guns, his mind running through millions of options at once. Boyoung didn’t tie you up, so you would be able to disarm her, if you knew how. If only you knew now.

“Calm down there, Mr. Choi. You don’t want to have this innocent’s blood on your hands, do you?” Boyoung tested.

“No, but I want yours.” With that statement, Boyoung snorted out a chuckle.

“You don’t even care if I do anything to (Name)? How about you, Jinwoo?”

Jinwoo stayed unwavering. “You’ll regret it if you do anything drastic here, Boyoung.”

Mr. Choi glanced towards Jinwoo, his eyes narrowing. “What kind of spy are you that put us in this situation? We’ve had the lying bitch right in front of us and yet this whole time you’ve been flirting with some random person?” His facial expression grew more wild in rage. “How do I not know that you four have been plotting against me this whole time? What if this is all just a set up against me and my personal information?”

“Sir, that’s not what we’re trying to do-” Myungjun tried to start, but he was immediately cut off by Mr. Choi.

“Fuck you! Fuck everyone! Everything that I own has been draining out of me for the past three months, and I want it all to STOP!”

A gunshot rang out. For the next dozen heartbeats, Jinwoo couldn’t tell who made the first shot. All was frozen, until there was a gasp and a fall.

 Epilogue

Jinwoo hated writing reports. He didn’t hate it because it was too meticulous to recall all of the details, but it was because he didn’t want to be reminded of all of the details. The rush of emotions aren’t the same when you keep trying to recollect them.

The swing of the door announced the arrival of a new incomer into Jinwoo’s office, causing him to pause his writing and to close the news report tab on the mysterious death of the jailed blackmailer Lee Boyoung.

“You’re still writing that thing?” Myungjun asked, leaning against the door.

“I keep deleting paragraphs and rewriting them. I feel like I’m not getting all of the right information from the situation.” Jinwoo replied, running a hand through his messy hair before fixing it again. Myungjun let out a passive “aish” before shifting feet.

“Well, the sun is going to go down soon, so we should get going while there is still daylight. I don’t know when the gates clos-”

“The cemetery gates close at 7:30.” Jinwoo answered in a straight tone. Myungjun nodded slowly.

“Do you want to get the same roses?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting in the car. Don’t take too long.” With that, Myungjun closed the door.

Jinwoo sighed and leaned back in his computer chair. He rubbed his fatigued eyes and stretched.

‘The report could wait, I’ll just finish it once I get back.’ Jinwoo thought to himself just as he thought to himself before leaving for the cemetary each time for the past three months. He’ll get the report done sooner or later.

#that was a rollercoaster to write #i cant find any pictures of jinjin in that green bomber i remember it so well it happened and it looked reallly good on him #so the gif is close enough #imagines: jinjin #park jinwoo #jinjin #astro #astro imagine #astro imagines #park jinwoo imagine #park jinwoo imagines #jinjin imagine #jinjin imagines #astro scenario #astro scenarios #park jinwoo scenario #park jinwoo scenarios #jinjin scenario #jinjin scenarios #author: krys #*krys

[cupofkoushi]

Small Beginnings

OiSuga Weekend: April 27 forest / supernatural / coffee shop au

Rated: T Minor violence Word Count: 2,410

Suga sort of works at Daichi’s coffee shop and has a favorite customer with a confident smile and a playful attitude. 

Suga wasn’t sure how or why he claimed the local coffee shop as his second home, although he had a faint idea of blaming Daichi for opening it up in the first place. It was new, small, and Suga loved seeing his best friend pour endless hours of energy into something he really loved, even if Suga wasn’t much of a coffee drinker.

Suga diligently stopped by every single morning to greet Daichi for the day, supported his business by buying a large decaffeinated coffee, and huddled up in the corner table next to the big window where he would spend his hours doing homework or reading a book. It easily became routine for Suga, and before he knew it, Suga was positive that he was spending way too much money on coffee than he would have liked.

Yet, he still came anyway. Supporting his best friend was a priority, even if it cost him a good chunk of his paycheck.

The coffee shop easily began gaining popularity, therefore earning more customers. Suga became really familiar with the early morning crowd, sometimes helping Daichi out if he was short-handed or taking up his usual spot in the corner and chatting with some of the regulars who would recognize him.

Suga met a lot of different people, a fiery young orange-headed boy who consisted of odd sound effects and sparkly glances, a tall man with rooster-like hair and lazy eyes who always seemed to try to say the right thing to slightly irritate the barista, and even a set of twins who had different colored hair and even more different personalities. But Suga’s favorite was the tall university student who had gorgeous hair, confident brown eyes behind trendy glasses, and a name that Suga loved to write on his cup every single time. Oikawa Tooru.

Oikawa was the most memorable to him by far, although, Suga would never admit it. Oikawa was sarcasm, humor, good looks, and sass all rolled into one and Suga always looked forward to his presence every single morning. Suga often found himself making Oikawa’s coffee more often than not because Oikawa often complained that Daichi couldn’t do it right— much to Daichi’s annoyance.

Suga had an inkling that it was just because it was Daichi, but he didn’t want to be too cocky.

So as eight o’clock rolled around, Suga shuffled behind the counter and prepared Oikawa’s coffee the way he liked it, the lightest roast on the menu mixed with more milk than sugar, and topped with one swoop of whipped cream. It honestly took Suga more than enough times to get it to Oikawa’s standards, but when Oikawa stopped scrunching his nose up and began smiling at it instead as the days passed, Suga knew he was on his way to mastering it.

“Good morning, Suga-chan!”

Suga perked up at the smooth voice and turned around, the drink already prepared in his hands. He grabbed a sharpie and wrote, “Oikawa Tooru” followed by a few stars before handing it over, the familiar customer smiling up at him as he took it.

“Good morning.”

Oikawa took a sip and quirked an eyebrow at Daichi who had been peering out from behind the coffee machine, curious eyes on the both of them, even continuing as he took Oikawa’s payment. Suga waved him off when Oikawa had looked back at Suga for some kind of an answer as to why the coffee shop owner had such an expectant gaze.

“Class today?” Suga asked, ignoring the slightly awkward moment as Oikawa leaned his hip on the counter, taking another dutiful sip.

“Yeah, I have Calculus 2 today. The professor is brutal.”

“I heard that it gets harder after Calculus 1A.”

Oikawa hummed in thought, the lid of his cup pressing against his bottom lip, although he wasn’t taking a drink. Suga unabashedly stared.

“Yeah, I think Calculus 2 is pretty hard, but it should be my last math class thankfully. I’ll be done with my math requirements after this one.”

The two chatted while Suga cleaned up after the small mess he made from making his favorite customer’s drink, and they continued to talk even as Suga served a few other customers who had walked in for their coffee. By the time Oikawa had prompted his exit, Suga was already grinning like a child at the snarky company.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Suga-chan! Unfortunately, I have Biochem in the mornings and it’s calling my name.”

Oikawa’s cup was empty and Suga was already pressing a second one into his palms, providing a wink at Oikawa’s quirked eyebrow. If Suga thought the drink was warm, it was even more surprising feeling how warm Oikawa’s fingertips were as Suga brushed against them.

“I look forward to it.” And Suga was grinning.

Oikawa looked taken back for a moment but returned the wide smile not too long after. Suga caught the slight blush on the tips of his ears and waved goodbye as the bell above the front door rung on Oikawa’s way out.

Daichi didn’t miss a beat.

“Favorite customer, hm?”

Suga looked over his shoulder, Daichi wringing his hands in his slightly dirty apron, eyes narrowing. “I guess you could say that.”

Daichi laughed and patted Suga’s shoulder, smirking as Suga slightly squirmed underneath his hold. Suga waved off his best friend, already expecting Daichi’s slightly teasing tone.

“Well, I hope he’s grateful for that free drink since it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Suga ignores the fake bite Daichi has, knowing well that Daichi doesn’t even pay him for his labor at the coffee shop.

The next morning is surprisingly hectic. Suga is stuck behind the counter for the entire duration of it for once, Asahi, the other barista, on his left, the freckled barista named Yamaguchi on his right, and Daichi dutifully at the register. It’s hectic and the line is out the door, Suga’s eyes warily watching the line form through the shop’s large windows.

Suga wanted to kill Daichi for offering a happy hour sort of deal at the beginning of the day. Daichi would definitely have to rethink this one, and judging his expression, Daichi had already begun doing just that.

Suga glanced at the clock and grimaced. It had been half an hour straight of back to back customers and the line was growing more impatient with each passing minute. There were only three of them making drinks behind the counter, Asahi and Suga focusing on drinks while Yamaguchi focused on spills, cleaning, and prepping. It was a system that normally worked, but on days like this, Suga felt like screaming at Daichi to hire some more damned people.

“Excuse me?”

Suga was handing off a customer’s drink when a middle-aged man approached the side of the counter, eyes narrowed and a frustrated expression all over his face. Suga didn’t have time for this.

“I didn’t order this.”

Suga took the cup and checked the name written on the side. “What did you order, sir?”

“I ordered a large dark roast with a quarter soy milk, a quarter half-and-half, with two shots of espresso—” By the time the customer had finished listing his ingredients, Suga was pretty sure that whatever patience he had was running thin.

“Sir, that is what this drink is.” Suga searched the messy countertops and pulled out the order slip from the front register with the customer’s name on it and read it over one more time. “If it doesn’t taste right, I can remake it for you, but you’ll have to give me a minute, the line is pretty long—”

“A minute? I’m not the one who messed it up!”

“Your drink will be next in the queue, I just need to finish with the customer I’m currently serving and I’ll do yours right after—”

“I demand to see your manager! This is outrageous!”

Suga fought the urge to roll his eyes directly, choosing to swallow his pride instead. “I am the manager.”

While that was honestly a lie, Suga was more than happy to announce it. Daichi would back him up. If Suga claimed he was the manager, he had complete faith that his best friend would be right there to agree with him, even if he himself was the shop owner.

“You’re doing a terrible job at running this coffee shop! How hard is it to get a fucking drink right?”

Suga’s cheeks flared up with not only embarrassment but just rage. He had offered to remake the drink and had simply asked him for a minute due to the large influx of customers, and the man was talking down on him for it. Suga didn’t even work here.

Suga slammed the full coffee cup down, the liquid jumping out of the cup and all over the counter and the floor. He leaned forward over the counter, the coffee staining his apron in the process, and right as he opened his mouth to say something back, a familiar voice called from beside them.

“There’s no need to be an ass,” Oikawa stated calmly and cooly, almost as if he weren’t talking to an enraged adult. “What, you think because he makes you coffee that you can treat him like trash?”

The man whizzed around, puffing his chest out slightly. “And who the hell are you? I don’t think this conversation even includes you.”

Oikawa crossed his arms and Suga felt a sense of relief wash over him. He was able to fight his own battles but he knew that slamming the coffee cup down in response was already taking his reaction too far. The words that wanted to spill from his mouth would definitely give Daichi’s shop a bad reputation.

And here Oikawa was, stepping in knowing full well that Suga couldn’t say anything back.

“I’m just saying that if you think that you’re high and mighty talking down on an employee at the establishment you’re paying to be at instead of realizing that you’re turning yourself into a huge joke, go ahead. But I guess that really is none of my business.”

The three of them looked around the coffee shop and saw that there were plenty of people whose attention had adverted to their squabble. Even Yamaguchi and Asahi behind the counter were eyeing them warily. Daichi was still up front taking orders, likely unknowing to the situation at hand.

Suga jumped when a glob of spit landed on the counter in front of him, some of it landing on his cheek, the customer shoving Oikawa promptly after. “This guy serves coffee for a living, you can’t possibly tell me that I’m supposed to—”

Suga jumped over the counter the moment Oikawa’s fist collided with the man’s nose, his hands wrapping around Oikawa’s torso and pulling him off, the customer groaning on the hard tile below them. It had all happened so fast and Suga was surprised he was able to react that quickly. He was honestly more surprised that Oikawa had reacted that quickly. He was breathing harder than Oikawa was, Suga’s fingertips feeling the steady and slow rise and fall of Oikawa’s chest.

Daichi was there in what seemed like seconds, barking at Asahi to get Oikawa and the man on the floor out of his coffee shop but Suga pulled Oikawa closer against him, almost protectively. He wasn’t sure why he did— Oikawa clearly was capable of handling himself.

“No! It was him!” Suga pointed at the ground, the man slowly pulling himself up to his feet. “He was beginning to harass me! Oikawa stepped in when the guy spit on me”

Asahi helped Daichi escort the man out, the angry customer yelling about how he was going to get Oikawa back for what he did but Oikawa didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, his eyes sharp and unwavering as he followed the commotion outside.

Suga finally let go of Oikawa, jumping back at the sudden realization that he had still been holding on. The crowd inside was talking wildly, the voices getting louder and louder as they glanced between the front door where Daichi and Asahi were walking back in and between Suga and Oikawa.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Suga looked at Oikawa, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I am. T-Thanks for doing that. I mean— I was going to say something—”

“I know, I saw. I just figured it was better if I did it before you did.”

Suga’s smile was small, shy. He was wringing his fingers awkwardly. He felt like there was something that should be said, like he should say something about how Oikawa still didn’t need to do what he did or that Suga was strong enough to handle himself too, but the words died out on his tongue.

So Suga returned behind the counter, asking Oikawa how much time he had before class started. Oikawa seemed surprised but promised that he could make time.

When the crowd died down and everyone could finally take a breather, Suga made two final drinks, waved to Yamaguchi and Asahi, ignored Daichi’s quiet whistling, and escorted Oikawa to his favorite seat in the corner, sliding a warm cup of coffee across the table.

Oikawa took it and looked at his name surrounded by hand-drawn planets and stars. “These are always so cute.”

“Turn it over.”

Oikawa spun the cup around and grinned at the phone number written in thick black ink, albeit a little shaky from when Suga almost chickened out.

“I mean, thanks for the free coffee, Suga-chan. Quite the way to butter me up. I’d give your presentation an eight out of ten, though.”

Suga laughed, the joy spreading across every inch of his body as he watched Oikawa pull out his phone and input the barista’s phone number in his contacts, Oikawa’s cheeks with a slightly rosy tint to match Suga’s own.

Oikawa took a sip of his coffee, eyeing Suga thoughtfully. “You know, I can’t go anywhere else to get my coffee. No one adds the right ratio of milk to sugar yet somehow, only you can.”

“It’s a good thing you come in here every single morning then, hm?”

Oikawa swished his drink around in his cup, almost as if he were contemplating a witty comeback or something sarcastic. But he looked Suga in the eye slowly, a confident grin on his face as he peered from behind his glasses.

“I suppose it is.”

#oisuga weekend #haikyuu!! #oisuga #fic #astrid writes #i'd like to dedicate this to liza and rae #because #fuck everyone who thinks coffeeshop AUs are boring #things can be simple and fun #let coffee shop aus be enjoyable #also this is unedited #it's almost midnight and im running on no sleep #sorry #ahhhh #i also suck at titles #who wouldve thought