#yeah lag seems to be a real problem on this lot lately

[victorluvsalice]

They did indeed! Smiler broke out the old Charisma to close a few deals, and they and Victor rung up their various customers for six items in the end -- a rainbow egg, a zombie cake, a box of meat substitute jars, a happy-scent perfume, a crate of strawberry milk, and a raspberry pie -- for a total profit on the day of $2,502! :D Yeah, I know, not that much given how weird Sim economics is, but currently they're on one of the lowest mark-ups, and this is less a money-making venture and more of just a way to use up all the produce they grow on the farm. XD There was some worrying lag at times while they were ringing people up, and I got a Last Exception that makes me think some of Simsonian Library's stuff doesn't always play nice with Brazen Lotus's stuff, but it all worked out in the end!

Aaand Smiler managed to close the store before anyone could go into the bathroom and find Alice "marking her territory" on the floor. *facepalm* Alice. I know you're a werewolf, and Erratic to boot. But the stalls were RIGHT THERE! Like, seriously, RIGHT THERE! Fortunately, she cleaned up the puddles without any complaint, but yikes. *facepalm* Anyway, she and Smiler finished cleaning up the store while an exhausted Victor napped, and I bought the "First Simoleon" perk and hung it up behind the front counter, along with one of the best pictures from their earlier photo session. :) Though I may want to tweak the placement later...eh, we'll see what happens.

And with that, it was time for the gang to head home! Where, fortunately, there was no more Blizzard -- OR Clement Frost waiting to bug them. Victor Scruberooed himself and then Transportalated up to bed, while Alice let out a Somber Howl to lower her Fury and then sped up to bed. Smiler, meanwhile, flew up to their room to study the latest trends, then hyped and released their "Let's Play Sim Scuffle" video to take advantage of a burst of interest in video games. I hung up my other favorite picture of the trio in front of their store beside their room, then had them breed their frogs to make a new plasma pack --

And instead got a Leopard Frog, one Smiler didn't have yet! So I had them head up to the attic to put that in the collection. :) Now they just need a plain Heart frog, a plain Eggplant frog, and the Whirly variation on the Dirt frog to complete their collection! Nice!

And so this update ends with Smiler singing to themselves in the attic, Victor and Alice sound asleep in their bed, and everyone having had a successful TV Premiere and a pretty successful first opening of their store. Next time -- we have a PROPER grand opening, with a lot less bullshit. XD See you then!

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #yeah lag seems to be a real problem on this lot lately #I'm starting to wonder if I just have too much stuff on it #there are a LOT of small objects after all #all those cans and such #hmmmm #and yeah when I looked at the log later #I'm not sure Brazen Lotus's updates to the retail fridges so they can hold fish and herbs and such #like the milk crates that I can make with Simsonian Library's canning factory #I shall have to be careful using these two mods in conjunction in future I think #though as you can see Tina DID still get her milk so it's not game-ending #and come on Alice you are BETTER than peeing on the floor #it's one thing to mark your territory in werewolf form outside #and another to do THAT #*shakehead* these Sims sometimes #but hey we have an official first simoleon up on the wall #and some nice new pictures for the store and the house #now we just need a proper grand opening! #and more frogs for Smiler :p #queued

[game-boy-pocket]

Well, today I beat the Super Mario RPG remake. Only 4 days did it take, but i'm a veteran who knows this game very well and I was using almost every moment of free time I had to play. Not that i'm saying less experienced people are in for a 100 hour game, it's a very short game for an RPG... but I kind of like that it's not overly long. If any series can get away with being a short RPG, it'd be Mario.

I have almost no complaints with this. There's a few changes I don't care for, but none that are significant enough for me to care that much about.... except for two things...

Enemies that know sleep abilities really love to spam them, and it annoyingly reactivates the sleep status. Yeah there's accessories that prevent sleep, but I don't always know when these enemies are going to have these abilities, and they didn't spam them so much in the originals anyway.

The other one is the fight against the boss, Boomer. There's frame rate issues here that throw off the timed hits. I couldn't get ANY timed hits right because of the lag.

Those are the only real significant blemishes on the game. But they're not significant enough for this to not be the definitive way to play the game for me ( I still might pop in the SNES version once in a while for shits and giggles, but this is better in almost every way )

I will say, this remake solved one problem I had with the original. Once I got Bowser and Peach in my party, I almost never switched Mallow or Geno back in. I liked them. But Bowser was a powerhouse and Peach was an OP healer. There were only three active party members, and no switching out mid battle. Because of that, the only time i've ever beat SMRPG playing mostly as Mario Mallow and Geno was me forcing myself to do it as a self imposed challenge run.

Well this game feels like it buffed both Mallow and Geno, or in Geno's case, fixed him so that his special attacks actually functioned as intended. It gave Mallow a purpose of finding out weaknesses and reistences, as well as getting completed entries in the monster log book. The triple specials are also different for every party combination, and if one party member falls in battle, or is put to sleep, or just because you feel like it, they can be swapped out in mid battle. So for once, I was actually using my whole party, and even swapping out strategically so I could buff someone with Geno's boost, or swapping in both Mallow and Peach to do a super healing move on specific turns, it was great, it feels like this is how the game should have worked to begin with.

Now it might sound like this change makes things a bit too easy... well first of all, let's not kid ourselves, Super Mario RPG is a very easy game, especially if you know what you're doing, and even if you don't grind... second of all, this game imposes limits on recovery items you can carry, so only six revival items instead of filling your whole inventory with them. They also introduce the occasional special enemy that provides more challenge and a frog coin on defeat... that's another issue addressed because Frog Coins were way too tough to come by. They're still rare in this game, but you no longer have to grind ridiculous jumping challenges to get them.

This remake is very faithful, but every mechanical change they made is more than welcome in my eyes.

I've taken a little peek at the post game, emphasis on little, I really don't know what all is in store for me, but I have a general idea of how it's going to go... how they've implemented it seems very clever, doesn't seem to step on the toes of the ending much. But it looks like it's going to be a hell of a lot tougher than the main game, so I may need to do some level grinding. I'm just glad there's still some things to do, because, and I know i've said this with almost every major release lately, i'm not ready to be done playing.

It feels so fucking good to be a fan of Mario RPG right now. I do hope the Thousand Year Door remake makes Paper Mario fans feel similarly happy. I still think it's an odd choice not to remake the N64 game first but the fans didn't campaign for that now did they? Here's hoping Mario and Luigi RPG fans have something to look forward to as well.

That's it for now, maybe i'll give further thoughts when I beat the post game, but this covers most of the important stuff I think.

#pocket plays #super mario rpg

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lessons 18-20

Series Masterlist

T-the season finale… *sniffle* it’s been a wild ride y’all… I’ve never actually written and stuck through with something for so long, so this is a real achievement for me! I really hope you guys have enjoyed this completely weird fluffy/angsty/mildly crackhead adventure! Please enjoy the last part!

All is well, the family is back together, everyone’s fine, the school year is almost over-

Wait, the school year is almost over?

Upon realizing that, everyone settled into a state of mild panic.

MC couldn’t just leave, they were part of the family! An integral part! They were the only thing keeping everyone from murdering each other during family game night!

As for Lucifer’s personal feelings on the matter, things were… tough.

When the exchange program was announced, Lucifer expected it to end like most of Diavolo’s ideas: annoying to clean up, it certainly couldn’t have ended worse than when he and the Crown Prince ended up getting cursed to hold hands for 25 hours straight. What Lucifer didn’t expect was for a child he didn’t even know he had to end up as the human exchange student and for his entire life to be thrown out of whack. That child of his was busy finishing up their final paper of the year.

“Hey, father,” MC looked up from their paper with a cheeky smile. “Do you think that the next exchange student will be as fun as me?”

“I sincerely hope not.” Lucifer sighed, continuing to sift through his paperwork on his desk. “Your kind of ‘excitement’ has completely worn me out.”

“Aw,” MC giggled, then went back to work. “So you don’t want me to stay here then?”

Lucifer stiffened and looked up from his paperwork. “Don’t put words in my mouth, MC.”

“So you do want me to stay. Interesting~” MC said as they began to sweep the eraser shavings off their paper. “Well, if you want me to stay so badly, you could have just asked.”

“P-pardon?” Lucifer blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “You want to stay?”

“Since you’d be so sad without me, I guess I just have to don’t I?” MC stood suddenly and slapped their finished essay on Lucifer’s desk. “The sacrifices I make for this family, I swear!”

We stand with you, MC, sacrifice your sanity for your weird-ass familia.

Anyway, Lucifer was thrilled that MC wanted to stay with him in the Devildom, the problem was… MC’s other parent may not have been too keen to just give up their baby.

You know, the demon child they raised all by themselves, with no help from Lucifer because he didn’t know MC existed…

Someone get MC’s ren on the phone! Stat!

“Alright dear little brothers of mine, listen closely because I’m not repeating this.” Lucifer looked over the living room couches at the other six rulers of hell. Belphie was sprawled out on one of the couches and was drooling all over Beel’s lap, Satan was making a point to look as disinterested as possible and kept sneaking glances at the book he was holding, and Mammon was wrestling Levi dangerously close to where Asmo was filing his nails.

Sighing in defeat, Lucifer continued. If any of his brothers misbehaved he couldn’t say he didn’t warn them. “MC‘s parent will be coming to visit.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Lucifer. Wonderful.

“They’ll be staying for a few days and will decide if it’s in MC’s best interest to primarily stay in the Devildom from now on.”

Asmodeus slowly raised a hand. “Luciiiiiiferrrr!”

“Asmo, is your question overly personal in nature?”

The Avatar of lust brought a manicured nail to his cheek and daintily tapped it. “Mmm… I don’t think so.”

“Ask.”

“How long were you and MC’s parent dating for? Won’t it be awkward to be around your ex?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face. “It was a one night thing.”

“Really?” Asmo knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “It wasn’t a long drawn out forbidden romance? You must have had some Olympic swimmers down there!”

“Okay!” Lucifer clapped his hands. “Add that to the list of things Asmo is not allowed to say.”

“We have to take something off the list then…” Beel said through handfuls of chips. “The list’s full.”

“Fine,” Lucifer grumbled. “He can say [CENSORED] again.”

“Yippee! [CENSORED] [CENSORED] [CENSORED]”

The group collectively groaned as Asmo continued to spout his profane nonsense.

“What did I just walk in on..?” MC stood in the doorway to the living room, still in their PJs.

“Oh, MC, your parent’s coming over to stay for a few days.” Lucifer quickly explained.

MC’s face morphed from confusion to horror. “What does that have to do with [CENSORED]?!”

This house is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE-

Anyway, after the initial confusion/horror, MC got really excited and rushed off to get ready. Meanwhile, the boys solemnly swore that they would be on their best behaviour!

Everyone needed to convince MC’s parent that everything in the Devildom was perfectly safe and that their little hellspawn was in good responsible hands.

Mammon tried to come up with a plan in case MC wasn’t allowed to stay with them, and let’s just say it involved kidnapping. But like- a chill kind of kidnapping where MC would be totally fine.

This idea was immediately shot down in favour of Beel’s plan B.

Beel would just… eat MC’s parent. No biggie, right?

Lucifer shot that one down the moment he heard it.

The only accepted plan for if MC wasn’t allowed to stay was just letting them go. They’d visit the Devildom. A lot. Many visits would be necessary.

So, the hour of MC’s ren’s arrival had come, and the student council assembled to greet them.

Greet the human. The completely non magical human. Greet them and then let them see the Devildom…

Was this exchange program really that good of an idea..?

MC frantically attempted to do some last minute fixes to their hair as they sat themselves down in their seat in the Assembly Hall. Ugh… stupid hair…

“Why are you so nervous?” Satan asked. “Is our visitor a neat freak basket case?”

“No!” MC huffed. “They’re not! I’m just making myself presentable so they don’t think I’ve gone completely feral down here.”

“Well, feral no, crazy, yes. Have you seen yourself lately?” Belphie snickered.

“SHUT UP BELPHIE.”

“Would you all be quiet?” Lucifer snapped. “You’re all acting like children.”

“I am a child.” MC snapped back. “What’s Belphie’s excuse?”

Belphie’s retort was cut off by the portal opening and a figure leisurely floating to the ground. They had an open parasol in their right hand that seemed to be aiding their gentle descent, and a large container full of what smelled like cookies tucked into their left side. The moment their toes touched the floor, the human gracefully closed their parasol and gave the assembled demons a sparkling smile and a polite bow.

“Thank you for allowing me the honour to visit,” the human’s voice was as soft and sweet as Cotton candy. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet the princes of hell themselves.”

:D yay!

After floating down from the sky like Mary Poppins, MC lost all sense of propriety and ran over to tackle their ren into a hug. It was that kind of thing where you really miss someone but you don’t realize exactly how much until you get to see them again.

Lucifer was, of course, the picture of elegance and “this isn’t awkward at all”-ness.

MC’s parent didn’t even seem to be all that concerned with the fact that their baby daddy was, y'know, LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. THE MOST POMPOUS FUCKWAD IN THE DEVILDOM.

Please don’t tell him I said that, he’s still mad about the Go Fund Me…

MC was absolutely ecstatic to finally show their parent how much they’ve grown in terms of their demonic powers and all the friends they had made, but MC’s ren was more concerned with how much they had grown in terms of their height.

“You’re just so tall now,” MC’s ren giggled as they fixed their child’s hair. “You’ll get things off of shelves for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah yeah,” MC said, rolling their eyes good naturedly. “Like you can’t reach anything in your kitchen.”

“Okay,” Mammon, Satan, Levi, Belphie, and Beel were lagging behind Lucifer, MC, their parent, and Diavolo. “Change of plans, we ain’t eatin’ ‘em, we’re keepin’ ‘em.”

“We were never going to eat them in the first place, idiot.” Satan sneered. “And what’s with the change of tune? You were ready to wage war on the human world fifteen minutes ago.”

“…cookies happened.” Mammon mumbled. He had only gotten one of the human’s totally amazing offerings before Beel proceeded to eat everything. The cookie was perfect… so delicious…

“I say we keep the human.” Beel put a hand on his stomach. “I want more human world cookies.”

“They’re so cute too…” Asmo cooed. “A solid 10/10, and that’s such a rare ranking coming from the only 20/10 in existence!”

“Asmo, your vanity never ceases to make me want to roll over and-” Belphie’s insult was interrupted by him passing out and letting out a cartoonishly loud snore. It was a good thing Beel was able to quickly catch and throw Belphie over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Asmo has a point, they’re just so totally moe! Kawaii to the highest degree! That parasol, the homemade cookies, it’s just like something from a slice of life anime!” Levi squee-ed.

“So it’s settled, we treat ‘em nice, then we get ‘em to stay.” Mammon nodded to the rest of his brothers, who for the first time in the Demon King knows how long, his little brothers nodded back in full seriousness. They were actually doing a Mammon plan! Holy shit!

So, the brothers liked MC’s ren, what about Diavolo and Barbatos?

Well, MC’s ren had heard all about Barbatos’ amazing cooking from MC and Barb’s totally outstanding reputation, so the two got along swimmingly.

Dia. Loved. That. Human. They’re cute???? They’re sweet???? They brought COOKIES???! They don’t seem to be afraid of him at all????? Please be the exchange student next year :D

Oh yeah… he made a rule that said they couldn’t summon someone with kids… it would be cruel to rip a parent away from their child…

But apparently not a child away from their parent cough cough

Other than the uncle squad, MC’s ren got to meet the Purgatory Hall gang too!

MC was being just the most adorable tour guide, but that didn’t stop Lucifer from having a miniature heart attack any time a demon even looked at MC’s parent the wrong way. If MC’s ren got attacked or felt threatened in any way shape or form, he could say bye bye to his time with the one person in the HOL that didn’t live to make him pop a forehead vein. The human seemed outwardly unconcerned with any Devildom oddness and was amicably chatting with Diavolo while MC pulled them from place to place.

“And that’s Hell’s Kitchen, they have good sandwiches, and that’s Madame Scream’s, they have really good macarons.” MC helpfully pointed out the places as they passed them.

A much to familiar trio of voices called out from down the street. Father dammit, why were they here..?

“Hello Lucifer, what are you all up too?” Ugh… Simeon…

“From the sight of the rest of your brothers skulking about, it appears like they’re acting as bodyguards.” Solomon…

“MC? Who’s that?”

Oh good grief… that nasally little voice… the chihuahua was near… Now… Lucifer was a respectable demon… respectable demons don’t tease children in front of the parent of their child…

“Hello chihuahua.”

DAMN IT HE COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF!

“I’m not a chihuahua you demon!” Luke yapped.

MC’s parent daintily tilted their head and looked over at MC. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

“Right, Luke, this is my ren, ren, this is a chihuahua.” MC grinned cheekily as they gestured between the two. Lucifer suppressed a laugh which resulted in a very ugly snort. It was a good thing the sound was drowned out by Luke’s exclamations of betrayal.

The chorus of “how could you?!”s and “I thought you were over that awful nickname!”s was put to an abrupt halt when the visiting human elegantly offered a handshake to the fuming angel.

“MC spoke very highly of you,” they chirped. “It’s very nice to meet you, Luke.”

Luke blinked a few times, then quickly straightened his posture, adjusted his hat, then shook MC’s ren’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“That’s Simeon.” MC jerked a thumb in Simeon’s direction. “And that’s Solomon.”

“Luke got a whole introduction and we get that? Come on MC, I thought we were friends.” Solomon fake pouted at MC after giving a polite nod to MC’s parent.

“We stopped being friends after one of the potions you had me test out turned me into a-” as quick as lighting, Mammon had shoved his hand into MC’s face.

“A-ah, MC’s rememberin’ stuff wrong, nothin’ potion related happened to ‘em. Right, Solomon???!”

Taking the hint from Mammon, Solomon smiled and nodded. “Nope, nothing related to turning MC into a frog for a few hours.”

“Hm, well I’m quite happy that absolutely nothing frog transformation related happened.” MC’s parent said.

“Yeah, must’ve hit their head on somethin- YEEEOW!” MC had bitten down on Mammon’s hand and slapped it away from them.

“I did not hit my head on anything!”

“Yeah,” Beel nodded. “Nothing’s hit them since the Fangol ball.”

“The what ball?” MC’s ren asked.

“The Fangol ball that hit MC a few months back and broke their glasses.” Five of the brothers slapped their hands to their foreheads.

“Oh my…”

“Eh,” MC patted their ren on the arm. “That’s nothing compared to the giant snake at the retreat.”

“Oh! Do you mind letting me tell that story, MC?”

Lucifer was frantically signalling for Diavolo to stop talking but the crown prince was already beginning his retelling of the events. Luke would chime in with an anecdote from an even worse misadventure the two had gone out on every once and a while. This… this wasn’t going well at all…

MC’s ren was… weirdly chill about the whole thing…

“Oh, it’s so nice that you’re having fun, sweetheart. That reminds me of when I was young and your aunt Clytemnestra and I would go out and have adventures.” “Really? You went on weird adventures too?” “…what kind of adventures could possibly compare to being chased by a giant snake in an underground labyrinth..?”

The side characters ended up needing to abscond for various reasons and all that was left was the brothers, MC, and MC’s parent.

They made it to the HOL without issue, which is when Lucifer remembered that he did not put all the cursed objects out of reach… shit.

“Asmo… Asmo!” “What is it?” “Take MC’s ren out of the house in half an hour, keep them occupied in the living room!” “What? Why?” “I need more time to human-proof the house! Distract them, but no funny business!” “Dear brother, for the first time in a very long time funny business is the second thing on my mind! Wait… no, it’s the third… what have I become..?”

Asmo and Satan, super graciously by the way, led MC and their ren to the living room to distract- I mean entertain them for a bit!

Lucifer and the rest of the gang got to work moving certain things around and closing certain doors- shit where was Cerberus?! Did Lucifer forget to walk him that morning?!

So much to dooooooo…

So maybe bringing a human into Majolish and letting them roam around unsupervised wasn’t the best idea Satan and Asmo had, but it sure as heck was an idea. MC looked through shelves of hairpins and bracelets while their ren disappeared around a corner to look at scarves.

“We’re doing such a great job babysitting!” Asmo clapped his hands. “If MC had just been a normal human I bet they’d last the entire year under our care.”

“Hm, you might be right.” Satan smiled and nodded. “Humans are surprisingly entertaining.”

“Yes… speaking of, where exactly is the human?”

The sudden sound of metal slamming against flesh and the delayed sound of something incredibly heavy hitting the floor jolted Asmo and Satan from their conversation.

“Honestly, some people have no fucking manners!”

It was such a different voice than what Satan and Asmo were used to that the only thing that tipped them off to it being MC’s ren was the fact that MC began to giggle. MC’s ren stepped back into view carrying a metal staff that quickly transformed back to their parasol.

Asmo and Satan rushed over to check if their defenceless little human guest was okay, only to find some lesser demon passed out on the floor with an incredibly nasty bump on the side of their head.

“I’ve heard that humans are apparently quite delicious to demons but I didn’t expect someone to actually try and eat me.”

“I-um…” Satan sputtered, looking from Asmo to MC’s parent. “We’re uh…”

“You alright, ren?” MC called from over by the bracelet shelves.

“Yes, I’m alright.” MC’s ren gave the fourth and fifth born a calming smile. “No harm done, well, except to that poor bastard. I do hope I haven’t killed him… that would be such a nasty thing for the poor sales associates to find.”

Okay so maybe the defenceless human wasn’t so defenceless. That was a good thing… right?

“So where exactly did you manage to get your hands on such a weapon..?” “Ah, I come from a family of witches. This was a college graduation present.”

…doit doit seems legit.

The four made it back home just in time, Lucifer and the others had finished human proofing the house.

Yay!

The house tour went by smoothly, everything was all well and good until Beel and Belphie asked MC’s ren to make more cookies.

Oh god dammit the human said they would.

“Oh Beel, you shouldn’t eat the cookie dough raw… the eggs and raw flour will make you sick!” “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s best not to interrupt Beel while he’s eating.” “Yeah it might end like the custard incident.” “Custard… incident?” “MC and Mammon ate my custard and I ended up breaking the wall that connected to MC’s room.” “Hunger tantrums, am I right?”

After that it was Mammon and Levi’s turn to babysit. It went about as well as you’d think.

Levi explained some anime plot in an attempt to make it seem like the Devildom was totally safe and that MC and their ren could stay forever no problem, while Mammon desperately suppressed the urge to swipe the cool parasol.

Finally, it was time for the verdict. Would MC be allowed to stay in the Devildom..? Or would they go back to the human world..?

“Lucifer?”

The demon in question looked up from his paperwork and tried to nod in the most casual way possible. MC’d ren was standing in the doorway, Lucifer must have missed their knock. “Yes? Do you need something?”

MC’s ren smiled and nodded. “It’s about MC’s living situation going forward.”

Lucifer stiffened and got up from his desk. “Y-yes… what about it?”

“MC has expressed that they want to stay here full time with frequent visits to the human world.” The softness that their voice had earlier in the day was completely absent as the human stepped forward into the study and closed the door behind them. “I want to know what you think about that.”

“Well,” Lucifer cleared his throat and tried to shake off the stupid sense of nervousness that had wrapped itself around him. A weak little human’s decision should not make him so anxious! “I would like for MC to stay here as well, I think it would be best for them.”

The human raised an eyebrow and twirled their parasol in their hand. “Really now? In your year with them you truly believe you know what’s best for them?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I do.”

MC’s ren went quiet for a few seconds before replying. “I see.”

“And that means..?”

“I knew this day would come, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon.” MC’s ren sighed, and for the first time all day, they actually let their exhaustion show. “I raised MC knowing that one day they’d end up in the Devildom. They’ve told me over and over again how much they like it down here…” the human took a deep breath and slowly shook their head. “If this is what they want… then I give my permission for them to stay with you.”

A wave of relief swept over Lucifer as he finally took a breath. “Thank you.”

“Mm… I’m going to have to use my favour though.”

The relief completely vanished as the Avatar of Pride’s blood ran cold. Memories flooded back from the one night the pair had spent together, the human had offered a cursed record to him that he had spent decades trying to find, in exchange, Lucifer let them have one favour. A favour from a demon was like a single pact order, Lucifer had to do literally anything this human wanted.

“Protect MC, even if it costs you your life.” The human’s words were careful and measured as Lucifer felt the order sink in. “You’ll do that for them, right Lucifer?”

Lucifer nodded as life flooded back into his limbs. “I would have done it without the order.”

So, the brother’s plan to make MC’s ren stay forever failed because they were going back to the human world with MC for summer vacation. Listen, it was needed, MC needed to see the sun lest they shrivel like a sad houseplant.

At least Lucifer technically had primary custody of his little heathen! Victory!

MC said their goodbyes to the friends they had made over the year as they prepared to leave for the next two months, it was filled with so many bone-crushing hugs that MC was surprised that their spine didn’t snap.

MC and Luke had lagged behind the much larger group as they made their way to the assembly hall. MC’s ren was dazzling the miniature crowd with stories of just how adorable MC was as a little kid. The half demon rolled their eyes and silently mourned the loss of any cool points they had gained over the year. Their little companion was oddly quiet, MC lightly nudged him and smiled.

“Aren’t you happy to be going home? You’ve been griping about being stuck down here the entire year. Don’t tell me you’re getting sappy, Luke.”

Luke puffed his cheek out and crossed his arms. “Of course I’m happy to be leaving, the Celestial Realm is the best place ever, the Devildom is completely terrible in every way.”

MC smirked and rolled their eyes again. Just let the little guy go on his rant…

“But… I am going to miss you…” Luke mumbled, MC’s eyebrows shot upwards as they turned their head to look at him. “Th-thanks for being my friend down here… MC. You’re… you’re really nice.”

To their absolute horror, MC felt a lump form in their throat. Oh dear Grandfather… the chihuahua was what broke them?! They quickly looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, then quickly pulled Luke into a hug. The hug was over as fast as it began, but it seemed that Luke didn’t particularly care and was more shocked at the sudden bout of affection.

“If anyone, and I mean anyone asks, I didn’t hug you.” MC murmured, quickly swiping at their eyes.

Luke nodded, a small smile spread across his face. “Got it!”

So the side characters left… *sniffle* everything’s okay… the DDDs work in any of the realms… they could still talk.

Soon, it was time for the final sets of goodbyes…

“Come on, Bean, we’re going to the human world!” MC tried to take the cat from Satan, who didn’t move a muscle.

“If you think you’re taking the cat from here, you’re delusional.” Satan’s smile didn’t leave his face, but the force behind his words was almost enough to make MC back off. Almost…

“My caaaaaat!” MC whined, they ended up getting lightly pushed away by Satan.

“Remember, the summer’s a good time to catch up on anime!” Levi advised. “There’s 24 hours in a day, and an average anime episode is 22 minutes long, you have loads of time!”

“I’ll keep up with my anime only if you promise to listen to the Death Note musical, Levi.” MC giggled and patted Levi on the shoulder.

“Remember MC, take care of your cuticles and your skin.” Asmo took MC’s hand and checked their fingernails. “They were an absolute mess before you got here, so I expect you to keep up your routines this summer!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeees siiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr.”

“Bye MC,” Beel handed MC a half opened cup of custard. “I almost ate it, but I didn’t. Make sure you don’t skip any meals this summer.

MC jumped up and gave Beel a quick hug. “Thanks Beel! I’ll be sure to enjoy the custard!”

“Bye, MC. See you next year.” Belphie stood awkwardly stiff, not exactly sure what to do. MC pursed their lips, then quickly wrapped him up in a hug.

“Bye Belphie, I hope all your pillow forts are structurally unsound.”

The avatar of sloth snickered and rested his head on MC’s. “I hope you get really comfortable and are fully ready to go to sleep, then realize you have to pee.”

MC gasped in fake offence and swatted Belphie on the arm.

Mammon put both his hands on MC’s shoulders, his face unusually serious. “Do ya remember what the great Mammon took painstakin’ effort to teach ya?”

“Payday loans are scams, witches are scary, bowline knots are the easiest to undo, don’t wear reflective sunglasses to a poker game aaaaaaaand…” MC grinned mischievously. “Any plan thought up by the Great Mammon should be subject to intense revision.”

“That’s ri- hey!” Mammon laughed and shoved MC towards Lucifer.

MC looked up at Lucifer, the pride demon looked down at them fondly. He reached out and gently ruffled their hair. “I’ll see you next year, MC.”

“Y-yeah…”

Lucifer crouched down slightly to get to their level and gave MC a smile. “I’m very proud of you, you’ve been an immense help this year. Thank you for everything.”

“Thanks for not being a stereotypical supervillain dad, father.” MC smiled softly and fixed their glasses. “Loveyoubye!”

MC turned and rushed to their ren’s side as Lucifer let out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too, MC.”

As Barbatos readied the portal to send the pair to the human world, MC couldn’t wipe the grin off their face. Geez, if this year was a metric mess of fun and insanity… what was the next year going to be like? The half demon’s grin morphed into a bit of a smirk. No way in hell their next year in the Devildom was going to be as insane as their first year.

MC almost giggled as they gave their family one last wave. That wasn’t the time to think about the future, besides, MC knew that it would take two insane chaotic humans to be summoned into the Devildom to even come close to the chaos MC managed to create, both on purpose and by accident.

And what were the odds of that happening?

——————

Authors Note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS DONE SEASON ONE IS DONE!

I wasn’t able to fit the Anti Lucifer League stuff into this one, I’ll put it in a separate fic later!

I NOW NEED TO WORK ON GETTING THROUGH SEASON 2 IN THE ACTUAL GAME. To get mildly serious for a second, thanks to everyone who has stuck around to listen to me spout my fic-y nonsense, you all are nerds (affectionate) and I love you.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me fic #Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #obey me leviathan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Obey me Luke

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)  Part 3

You know getting dragged through a multi billion dollar corporations building to try and avoid your illegitimate father, a normal monday for most I’m sure.

First< Previous >Next

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

It’s official, I hate Adrien

Marinette groans, having been practically dragged out of bed for breakfast. Adrien was wisely backed up as far as he could in the elevator. She yawns, making it loud as possible and looking Adrien right in the eye.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out so late,” Tikki giggles, hidden in her scarf.

Yeah it turns out that ‘just need to help out one person’ turned into a it is now 3am and I am halfway across the city beating up a gang.

“At least the box was safe,” Marinette whispers back, she had crashed in Adrien's room, no matter how mad Lila would be, or because of it who knows.

And indeed Lila was mad. The second they step foot into the hotel restaurant the entire class turns to stare at them. Crowded around a smug looking Lila with tears rolling down her cheeks. Marinette just turns a sharp left to the coffee. It isn’t until she has downed half a cup and refilled it that she tries to look for her friends.

Chloe looks just as dead as her, so she sits next to her. Let the morning people talk, they were ready to pass out together.

“Kagami?”

“Yep, Adrien?”

“Yep,”

“Morning people,” They both sneer.

“Were you planning on sleeping all morning?” Kagami asks, eating breakfast like a normal person, what a jerk.

“Were you planning on watching me all morning?” Chloe half heartedly retorts.

“You are adorable when you’re sleeping,”

“Fuck you, I’m adorable all the time,”

“Chlo, language, please,” Marinette implores, nursing her giant cup.

“Shut up Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snaps, face planting back into the table.

“She’s not that cute actually,” Kagami whispers to Adrien, “Wore a face mask she got green all over the bed,”

“I’ll get green all over you,” Chloe mumbles absentmindedly.

"Marinette,"

"Ah the storm is coming,took them long enough" She takes a gulp of burning coffee, "Yes Alya?"

"You cant just say that to a person," Alya tries to explain, as if talking down to a child, "Lila was up all night crying,"

"She probably just put on a recording and went soundly to sleep," Chloe scoffs, sleepily looking up from the table.

"I was with her all night!" Alya turns to Chloe, seething rage coming to the surface.

"Thats some impressive endurance," Marinette mutters, downing more coffee.

"You think she's been practicing?" Chloe smirks.

"This isn't-"

"Make sure she get's plenty of water," Marinette turns away, hoping the conversation would be over.

"Marinette!" Alya looks down at her the way Marinette often looks at her, the look at a dear friend who changed, "Can't you see you're hurting Lila?"

"Can't you see she's hurting me?" She covers that honestly by gulping down more coffee, she has not had enough for this conversation.

"You used to be so nice Marinette," Alya dodges the question, pointing to Chloe and Kagami instead, "Then you started spending time with these two, and, and you changed!"

"Believe what you want Alya," Marinette motions for her friends to stay calm, "But they stand by me when no one else will, especially you,"

"Thats because!- Marinette if you had just gotten to know Lila instead of being jealous this would have never happened," Alya looks down at her sadly, Marinette was sure Paris would have been up in flames somehow if she had ever trusted Lila, "If you just didn't spend time around these bullies everything could be the same, you wouldn't have become a bully too,"

"So what?" She spits bitterly, looking over at the table watching them, Lila looking disgruntled it wasn't an all out fight, "If I got up and joined that table right now, would everything go back to the way it was?"

"... No,"

Marinette’s pocket buzzes in a familiar sequence. Akuma alert.

"Ok then, not much point in arguing about it, I'm going to stay with my friends, the ones I can actually trust," Marinette quickly shuts down Alya's protest, "Now go get Lila some water,"

Alya walks off back to the table, everyone crowding around her. Marinette waits for the door to be clear, she has to leave before Alya finishes or the whole class will be breathing down her neck.

“Forgot something in my room,” Marinette slings on her back pack, “Be back soon,”

She was not back soon, she was not back soon at all. Luckily she should only be three minutes late for the bus-and nope they left, great. She’ll just have to catch up with the tour later.

Well, I had stuff to do anyways

She talks with the receptionist; her assistant should have sent her a prepared motorcycle to the hotel the day before. It’s a quick drive to the location she had selected specifically to be close to the hotel.

She puts on a simple domino mask before entering the building, she didn’t want anyone to leak her identity after all. Walking in she’s glad to see everything is not in disarray.

“MDC,” Her assistant, Liam walks up to her.

Liam was someone she met through Penny. He’s older than her and also acted as her guardian on most of her trips as MDC. He does know her civilian identity, which she trusted him completely to keep. She likes him because-

“Is that mine?” She snatches the cup of coffee as he passes it to her.

“Figured you needed it,” Liam smiles, wincing as she downs the burning liquid, it's fine she has a strong healing factor, “You said your bag was stolen? This should replace it, it’s most of what you had plus more,”

He rolls forward a pre packed suitcase.

“I would die without,” Marinette says in all seriousness, “So what's the damage?”

“No major problems so far, the security we hired is enough to scare away the smaller thugs,” Liam nods to some security personnel guarding each door, “They won't be enough if any super villains try to attack the actual show,”

“Mm, give them instructions on the night of the show they are only allowed to intercept small time, anything bigger they are not allowed to engage,” Marinette studies the room, there's great places to hide, friend or foe, “If they see anything they are simply to report it directly to me,”

“They can’t engage?” Liam looks around, trying to see what she is.

“They won't be able to stop them anyway, and there is no reason for them to die,”

“If you say so,” Liam leads her through the room where lights are being set up and walls are being painted, “So what's the plan if we do get attacked?”

“I’m sure Batman is going to have his eye on any big events,” Marinette approves of the color of the back wall, it looking even better in person, “Besides I’m planning on trying to intercept before any violence,”

“In other words you're going to make my job a lot more stressful,” Liam sighs, making a note or rather on his tablet.

“Not if I can help it,”

“You can’t,” Liam sighs again at her grin, “Didn’t you have a tour with your class today?”

“They left me,” Liam seems equally unsurprised, “But I should probably head for Wayne tower anyway,”

“Don’t get into trouble,”

“I never get into trouble,” Marinette smirks from the door, “Trouble drags me into it kicking and screaming,”

“More like keen and skipping,” Liam closes the door in her face.

Marinette strolls into the Wayne tower an hour late with Starbucks, she sees is her class, being a nuisance arguing with a tour guide.

“You cannot just leave a student alone in Gotham,” The tour guide all but yells at Madame Bustier.

“Marinette is very responsible, she can handle herself,” Madame Bustier more defends herself than Marinette.

“I don’t care how responsible your student is, that won't stop them from getting shot!” This time he does yell, “You need to go back and pray to god she’s alright and hasn't gotten lost for some murder to find!”

Alright time to break the tension

“Hey, what did I miss?” Marinette asks casually, Already sipping at her straw when all eyes turn to her.

“Marinette! How did you get here?” Madame bustier demands.

“I-”

“I think you mean ‘are you alright, I’m so sorry for leaving you behind,” The tour guide glowers, apparently threatening enough that Madame Bustier actually repeats him.

“I’m fine, I borrowed a bike from my friend in Gotham,”

“You don’t have a licence in Gotham,” Lila sneers triumphantly.

Oh look who actually did some research, how much digging did you do when I learnt how to ride a motorcycle

“I didn’t say it was a motorcycle,” That shut’s Lila up, “But yeah it is a motorcycle,

Worth it for that face

“Also I got my licence approved in America before I came,”

So worth that face

Lila opens her mouth, better than the flood gates, when the tour guide interrupts.

“Now that everyone is here,” He sends a smile to Marinette and a glare to Madame Bustier somehow at the same time, she gets the tinglily feeling of  miraculous holder, or maybe its just the caffeine, “We can start, my name is Dick I will be your tour guide today.

They follow Dick through the tour Marinette's group right behind Dick. She scribbled designs and took notes as he talked, asking her own questions. This got her dubbed Dicks favourite, and easy title to gain as the rest of the class lagged behind. Most were listening to Lila, only Max and Alix were straining to hear Dick over the chatter. Marinette would occasionally pick up a mention of the Wayne's and knew it wasn't related to the tour. She'd have to guess Lila was lying about either dating someone or saving their life, or because it's Lila probably both. A gutsy move in the Wayne tower she had to admit. Marinette could tell Dick was listening and would probably have that rumour make it back to the Wayne's themselves. Would the wrath of some of the richest and most powerful people be enough to stop her? not likely.

They split up for lunch at the cafeteria in the building. She saw the coffee machine and was about to make a bee line to it when Kagami pulled her back to eat some 'real food' whatever that is. She makes a break for it after eating the so called 'real food', right before the tour was about to restart. She reaches it as a familiar figure is also waiting.

"Hi Tim," She greets, getting him to actually jump, "You work here?"

"Hi! um-yeah," He looks over to her, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" She takes the biggest travel cup they have available.

"Sn-nothing," Tim still looks uneasy, then his eyes lock onto the cup, "tired?"

"Was up till three am last night, plus jet lag?" She yawns, "Yeah I'm tired,"

"Then you'll want to put that cup back,"

"Hm why?"

he gets her answer when Tim ducks down, opening a hidden cupboard full of travel cups at least twice the size of her current one,

"Tim I love you," She fills up the giant cup, "You're my favourite person in Gotham as of right now,"

"Not Dick?"

"Eh, his puns are lacklustre," She shrugs, Tim spits out his drink, "You know Dick?"

"Yep, give him a hard time for me!" Tim calls over his shoulder, walking away.

"You got it!" She hurries in the opposite direction, late for the tour once again.

“Did you get another coffee?” Dick asks as they enter the PR department.

“They were serving them at lunch,” Marinette could almost laugh at how quickly he had begun to fret over her during the tour.

“I know, that was my brothers idea, or rather demand,” Dick sighs, someone else approaching the group to direct the tour.

“Your brother works here?”

“Sure does,”

“But you don’t”

This makes Dick pause, looking down at her as she sips at the coffee.

“What?”

“I mean you don’t work this job at least,” She shrugs, it wasn't hard to figure out.

“Why's that?”

“You seem uncomfortable, your charismatic but still lack the smoothness of a rehearsed tour, plus you seem offended that they are in the back chatting,” Marinette nods towards Lila and her posse, “Regular tour guides would be used to that,”

“You found me out,” Dick chuckles, “I’m just taking over for today,”

“Well I think you picked a bad class to do that for,” She looks over at most her class ignoring the speaker trying to get their attention.

“I think I picked the right one,” Dick says cryptically, then walks off to help herd the class.

“Alright you have to give me the recipe,” Marinette overhears from a nearby desk.

Someone is sitting on it eating a cookie, while the other taps away at her computer.

“Sorry no can do,” She shrugs, “I don’t know it,”

“How can you not know it, you baked them right?” He asks, trying to steal another one and getting his hand slapped away.

“Nope, new vigilante came in, beat up someone robbing my house and baked me cookies,”

“This is Gotham so I believe the first two,” He looks between her and the container, “But cookies?”

“They also gave me free therapy,” She shrugs, before tapping on the container,“And do you really believe I could make these?”

“Touche,” He smirks leaning back on the desk, “So who’s the new guy? With the Batclan?”

“No they said they were just passing through,” She doesn't look up from her computer, focusing intently on the screen, “Names Starling,”

“Never heard of them,”

“Neither, and I tried looking them up,” She sighs, pushing back from the computer in defeat, “Found someone, but it’s not them, actually couldn't find anything on them,”

“Weird,” He gets up from the desk, “Can’t imagine Batman is going to take kindly to a new vigilante running around,”

“Unless he adopts them,”

“That… yeah he probably will,”

"Oh no-CLAIRE" The speaker trying to wrangle her class stops, "We have a problem!"

"Sorry to cut this short," Claire doesn't look sorry at all, "Seems we have important matters to tend to,"

She follows Dick out of the department, ushering her class as she goes. Claire looks over at her like she has two heads, a mixture of impressed and pity, and perhaps a bit of jealously.

They get to go further up the building, to the higher floors. They reach a space that is mostly meeting rooms. He class decide to take advantage of Dick declaring they are completely sound proof, or maybe they took it as a challenge. Marinette is walking past a hall when someone leaning against the wall catches her eye.

“Auntie Selina?!”

They look around, only spotting Marinette seconds before they collide into a hug, she feels the tingling buzz of a true holder.

“Mari!” Selina picks her up and spins her around, no different from when she was five, “Oh, my love it’s so good to see you, when did you arrive in Gotham?”

Marinette watches as her smile morphs into horror.

“Wait, what are you doing in Gotham!?”

“It’s a class trip and- hey where are we going?” Her Auntie grabs her arm pulling her down the hall.

“Marinette!” Dick calls, walking around the corner, Selina makes a sharp turn down another corridor, “Wait!”

Selina is two steps away from running as she pulls Marinette through the maze of hallways.

“Auntie where are we going?”

“Down here,” She opens the door leading to a staircase, too narrow to be a fire exit.

“That’s not really what I was asking,”

Selina inputs a key code, the door swinging open as she is pulled into the room.

“Wait!” She gets pulled through another door just as quick “Was that wall full of weapons?”

“Just a picture sweetie,” She says sweetly, “Down these stairs,”

“Aunt Selina what are we running from?” They are running now, floor after floor.

“We’re not running from anything sweetie,” Selina speeds up, “I just wanted to show you a cool spot in Gotham,”

“Right,” Marinette raises an eyebrow, “I was actually with the class so maybe we could go later?”

“It closes in five minutes,”

“Like you wouldn’t just break in if we were going somewhere,”

“I promise I will take you somewhere nice,” She smiles back at Marinette, they reach the end of the stairs, coming to a garage of sorts, “If you promise to hurry up,”

“Sure-” She does a double take, of the room, “Hold up are those costumes?”

“Collectors stuff, you know,” They are surrounded by bat themed... everything, “Rich people,”

“Right and how do you know this?”

“I-” She hesitates, eyes drifting, “Hey look, the exit!”

They all out sprint towards the exit. Selina reaches out to open the door a second after it swings open.

“Selina,” The man smiles at Selina as she runs into him.

“Hey Bruce,” Selina jumps back, trying to hide Marinette behind her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce looks behind her at Marinette, who gives a little wave.

“Out! Got to hurry!” She grabs Marinette's arm again, trying to pull her around Bruce.

“Is something wrong?” Bruce grabs Selina's shoulders to keep her still and looking at him.

“Nope nothings wrong,” She wriggles out of his grasp, trying again to pull Marinette away.

“Ok then,” Bruce still looks worried but turns to Marinette instead, “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina finance,”

“YOU’RE HER WHAT!?”

“Snitch,” He Auntie spits out venomously.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Marinette asks her with the biggest grin.

“Surprise,” Selina gives half heated jazz hands.

“Wait! Whens the wedding? Do You have a dress? I’ll make one!” She deicides, brining out her sketchbook, drawing different designs, “What's the theme? Never mind tell me on the way to the fabric store, I’ll sketch up some designs,”

“Darling, please-” Selina is now getting pulled along.

“Oh! I’ll call Papa! I’m sure he’ll want to make your cake! We have to hurry, come on lets go!” They're already out the door, Marinette waves turning back to Bruce, “Nice meeting you!”

“What just happened?” Bruce asks Dick as he runs up next to him.

“She kidnapped one of the students on tour,”

“Who is now making her wedding dress,” Bruce nods, not understanding anything

“Did I miss something?”

I think we all did

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

Taglist:

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16  @caffeinetheory   @g-arya   @Maribat-2k20   @ladybug-182    @Actual-disaster-human    @fusser90   @messrs-weasley   @soap-lady  @paintedhope7   @zeneralla    @mochegato     @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178  @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen   @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster  @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous marinette #mlb #ml fic #ml #bio dad bruce wayne #Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020 #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b!dbwm2020 #biodad au #Marinette #badass marinette #maribat #marinette is mdc #salt #class salt #Lila salt #lila lies #fluff

[losille2000]

The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fan fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fan fiction #the swan #actor!tom/ofc #tug series #swan #actor!tom

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 1

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for you all to read this story! Special thanks go to Lynn (@mindless--ramblings​​) for always being so supportive and helping me stay inspired! Ever since I found out Pedro now has two characters named Marcus, I’ve wondered about ways I could connect them in one piece of writing. And this? This is that piece of writing. Moreno won’t be making an appearance in this one, but I hope Pike will make up for that 😉 Enjoy!

Ground floor.

First floor.

Second.

Erin He took a deep breath, thankful that the elevator was empty. She straightened the collar of her shirt as the fourth floor approached. At her side was her government-issued laptop, which she’d picked up from the front desk. Her fingers gripped its edges tightly. This was it. She made it.

The elevator let out a soft ding and opened its doors, revealing a floor of cubicles and conference rooms. Austin sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the space alongside the bright fluorescent lights.

She stepped out, searching for the art theft department’s main office. As much as she understood the need for technology specialists across all the FBI’s branches, she never quite grasped why she was placed in the art theft department, of all places. She always thought she’d be in the operational technologies department, developing and maintaining tools for others to use. Though she couldn’t blame them; intellectual property was highly valued and often stolen.

The email said to report to the department supervisor’s office for a quick onboarding, but they didn’t exactly mention what it would be. It could’ve been anything from a quick handshake to being told to shadow a coworker. Hopefully the former.

Part of her begged to the gods of computer science that she wouldn’t be assigned to yet another condescending old white man. Her last welcome at a company had been less than mediocre, and lukewarm at best.

The other part of her nagged that she’d signed up for exactly that.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome to your first day, Special Agent He,” the department supervisor–Harold Strauss–greeted as she entered his office. He gestured to the man standing in front of his desk. “This is Agent Marcus Pike. He will be showing you the ropes today.”

Agent Pike looked at her over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curling in a friendly smile. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with his faint smile lines and soft brown hair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned around to face her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She shook his hand and then extended her hand to Pike. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking time out of your day to show me around.”

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. His brown eyes sparkled as he proposed, “Should we start? I have a meeting in about half an hour, and I’m sure you’ll want to meet some of our operational techs and digital forensics team. They’re the backbone of everything we do here.”

They acknowledged their supervisor once more and then left to begin the tour.

As her personal guide gave her the rundown of the floor’s organization and workflow, Erin couldn’t help but sneak a couple more glances at him.

He was taller than her by a few inches, but not in such a way that she felt like shrinking into herself. And he always stayed at her side, never walking ahead or lagging behind. His strong jaw led her gaze to a pair of soft lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual smile as he talked about the breakthroughs the department had in the past days.

“Do you know where your desk is?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, they told me the other day,” she answered, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. They walked over to her assigned desk, which was barren save for a standard computer, box of pens, and notepad. “If you’re going to ask if I need help with setup, I think I should be alright for now. Nothing a few installations and linux commands can’t fix.”

He chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re living up to your title, Agent He. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve been much help even if I offered. Have you done work similar to this before?”

She shrugged. “I worked in cybersecurity and software development,” Erin replied, setting down her bag and laptop on her desk. Slipping off her black blazer, she continued, “But I figured I should do something more than just build products for tech companies. Use my skills to aid in investigations.”

He nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Actually, I was originally studying to be an art history professor. But then I found this job and figured I could use my knowledge to help find and preserve artworks.”

Hm, noble.

“Sounds like we aren’t so different,” she observed, following him across the officespace. “Let’s hope that I can be of help around here.”

He chuckled softly, the dimple in his cheek showing as he smiled. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

---

The words on the screen blurred into the white background of the screen, as if they were mocking her. Each line of test slowly lost its meaning, turning into mind-numbing strings.

Erin pushed her computer away and rubbed her eyes defeatedly, sighing. The department was launching an investigation regarding a museum that was broken into and wiped clean. What little data was left on the computers, from what she gathered after hours of poring over them, was largely useless. Hopefully, one of the other agents would find something helpful in the other remnants. Perhaps an address, or some sort of signature that could be traced to a group. Her, on the other hand? She just wasted hours of work.

A steaming cup of coffee was set down onto her desk, along with some sugar and tiny cups of cream.

She looked up to find Marcus–Pike, she reminded herself–standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” she sighed. It turned out that Pike was one of the best agents in the department, and that meant he spent most of his time leading and organizing investigations. What that meant for Erin, then, was that she had to answer to him. Thankfully, he was never weird about it. Quite the opposite, actually. Tapping the side of the cup, she asked, “Is this for me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! Sorry; I would’ve fixed it, but I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.”

“Well it’s nothing complex, if that’s what you’re nervous about,” she teased. Two sugars and a drizzle of cream turned the pitch black liquid into a deep brown. She took a sip, the placebo of caffeine already kicking in. “When you’re in STEM, you learn to appreciate caffeine in any form. But I like it like this.”

“Noted,” he said, his voice a soft timbre amongst the flutter of papers and clacking of keys. Hands resting on his hips he asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before you find anything?”

“Anywhere from an hour to another three...or five,” she sighed, lazily scrolling down the file. Basking in the steam from her cup, she continued, “I’m gonna need a lot more of this coffee. There has to be something useful in this file, I just need to find it. I might need to cross-reference with some of the other evidence to notice anything.”

A headache was already descending upon her, and she was only six hours in. Weak–she’d stared at a computer much longer without any problem many times before. Why, of all times, did it have to happen when she was talking to her coworker?

“Well, I’ll be here pretty late tonight, so if you need anything, just let me know,” he replied, patting her shoulder. The crease between his brows deepened as he squinted down at the screen. “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on it. Take a break, Erin.” At her responding pout, he reasoned, “It’s been almost a month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rest.”

Of course he noticed her breaks, or lack thereof. She rolled her eyes, hiding a bashful smile in her cup. “I work best in sprints.”

He hummed amusedly. “But even sprinters need breaks, don’t they?” Then, his eyes lit up. “Actually, why don’t you take a break now?”

Erin raised a brow. “Am I not taking a break right now?”

His laugh was warm. “I mean a real break. Let’s get lunch; my treat.”

“Are you really going to make me choose between food and digital forensics, Agent Pike?”

Nodding definitively, he replied, “Yes, Agent He.”

Unable to resist the prospect of free lunch, she gave in and followed him out to his car. The work would still be there when she returned. For the moment, she could just enjoy Marcus’s companionship.

He drove out to a local diner about ten minutes away, his turns confident as if he’d gone there hundreds of times before. Judging by the way his eyes had sparked with joy at her agreement, he probably had.

They let their shoulders relax in the serenity of the car, shedding the formalities and passing time as if they were close friends.

The diner was small and cozy, booths worn with age and serving breakfast all day. Erin’s lips curled up in a little smile as the hostess recognized Marcus. So he was a regular, after all.

They sat down across from each other in a booth. Erin shrugged off her navy blue blazer and smoothed her dark hair back into a thick ponytail.

As she fixed her hair, Marcus gave her his recommendations, leaning in with the menu so she could follow along with her eyes. He seemed particularly fond of the pancakes, so she decided on those. Surely he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And with the way his voice rasped just slightly, she could listen to him speak for a whole day.

“Honey? Did you hear anything I said?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a little smirk.

Erin snapped out of her reverie, cheeks burning. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit.”

“No worries, it happens to all of us,” he reassured, laying the menu flat on the table. “What were you thinking about?”

Less than an hour had passed before they were back in the office, stepping out of the elevator with full bellies. The familiar clicking from computers and buzz of conversations filled the air, and they were officially agents again.

Erin turned to him and nudged his arm. “Hey, thanks for the break.”

“Anytime,” he replied, walking with her along the perimeter of the room. They stopped at the hallway leading to the conference rooms and offices. His large hand moved to rest on her arm, his thumb rubbing gently. “I guess this is my stop. You know where to find me.”

“And you know where I’ll be.”

The next day, Marcus was greeted in his office by tupperwares containing homemade fried rice, some cut up fruit, and a sticky note.

Thanks for sticking with me yesterday. -E

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to refrain from grinning like a maniac, though he was sure anyone who happened to pass by would’ve thought he looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. Erin’s handwriting was soft and curved, so similar to calligraphy but simple in a way that made the note feel that much more intimate.

She had an interesting way of showing her care for others, he found. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the work she dedicated her life to; she seemed to always be one step ahead, ready to pull out small details that others would dismiss. He wondered what she might know of him.

There were a few things she clearly knew; things that surprised him every day. Just as he’d learned her usual coffee order, she’d learned his. When he’d walk in every morning, her head of dark hair would tilt to peek over her cubicle, as if she could sense his presence. And when their eyes would meet, her smile was better than the best espresso in the world.

Marcus shook his head to himself as his heart fluttered. Years of failed relationships and a divorce later, he still couldn’t keep his feelings in check. His mother always said he had a soft heart, one that would be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. But Erin was anything but a weakness.

She wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. A constant in his life, making each day feel just a little more special. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy, but….he wouldn’t be opposed to one either.

Yet, as he spotted Ian Malarkey standing a bit too close to her, he forced himself to backtrack. What if she didn’t want him? What if they were meant to be just as they were: just friends?

Maybe it was time for him to move on.

After a few months, their friendship had grown well past a workplace acquaintance. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get attached to him; it just...happened. And it was only a little surprising to her; she tried to stay as professional as she could in the office, but outside? Outside, she could just be Erin, not FBI Special Agent He. Outside, she could shed her jacket and swap the button-down shirt for a ribbed sweater and some jeans. Outside, she and Marcus could sit as close together as they wanted without drawing unwanted attention.

She knew it was silly to fantasize. After all, Marcus was a coworker, if not a superior. And with the way he fussed over her water intake and made sure that she wore her glasses at the right times, he could easily see her as a little sister. As nothing more than a new agent who happened to be friendly.

But if that were true, why would he go through the effort of bringing her lunch on Thursdays? Why did he call her little names like “honeydew” and “sweetheart,” and why did it feel so natural coming from his mouth?

The commotion coming from the direction of the conference rooms told her that the team was back from the investigation. Maybe Marcus was there; she knew he’d gone, but he hadn’t texted since morning. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in to check on him; he did that often enough with her.

When she entered the break room, her heart sank. Sitting off to the side, by the wall, was Marcus asking Teresa Lisbon out on a date. She wasn’t sure why she felt defeated;  it wasn’t like she had any plans on asking him out.

But then why did it hurt her to the core to see him giving those puppy eyes and little smiles to Lisbon? The woman didn’t even look interested in him; if anything, she looked confused and hesitant.

Ian caught her eye as she surveyed the room once more, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped smile. He knew about her feelings for Marcus, having spent hours going over evidence and making small talk. In fact, he’d even encouraged her to tell Marcus her feelings, out of fear that she might never get the chance.

Perhaps her chance had passed after all. Turning on her heel, Erin decided that, for once, it was time to go home. Marcus would come to her when he was less busy.

The thing was, though, she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to go over and say hello, and check to make sure he wasn’t injured in the scuffle. Moreover, she didn’t want to be a fill-in for Lisbon’s absence. She didn’t want to be his second choice. And she knew it wasn’t her fault, nor Lisbon’s, that Marcus didn’t choose her. But it still stung.

She watched as their shared lunches became less frequent, the senior agent replacing her space by Marcus’s side. When the elevator would ding at 7AM and she’d glance up to see if it was him, she found him searching the room for Lisbon. They never drifted over to her desk. That fact always made her grip her pen just a little tighter.

On the days when he did grace her with his presence, she felt like a tornado of emotions.

Happy, because she had missed her best friend.

Sad, because she knew the next time she’d spend time with him was in a few weeks rather than a few days.

Grateful, because she knew how hard it was to socialize after a work week of at least 50 hours.

Envious, because of the stories he told.

Relieved, because he still cared.

Plastering a halfhearted smile on her face, Erin listened to Marcus practically worship his girlfriend. His summer breeze of a smile and sparkling eyes made the pain that came with listening worth it. The only other time she’d heard him talk that passionately was when they’d visited an art museum.

At least one of them was happy.

She thought of trying to date again; it had been over a year since she’d been in a relationship. But she couldn’t do it. More than once, she’d put on some simple makeup and casual clothes, ready to head out to the bar, but no. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment. The apartment was where she and Marcus watched movies, where she would cut up fruit and bring them to him on a plate while he pored over reports in the warm lights of the kitchen. It was where he’d navigate her cupboards and fridge to make her a mug of his special hot chocolate. It was her safe space, the one place in her life where she could just be Erin, and he could just be Marcus.

The knife cleaved the melon in half with ease, revealing its pale green interior.

Marcus leaned up against the counter next to her, hair tousled and necktie loosened against his chest. He absentmindedly started rolling up his sleeves, undoing the cuffs of his shirt and folding them up.

She tried not to stare too long at the way his forearms tensed with the movement.

He broke the silence first. “I got the job in DC,” he said, voice soft like velvet.

“That’s great.” A simple response, though Erin cringed internally. Was that any way to react to her best friend’s job promotion? Surely not, but a part of her–a selfish part of her–knew that it meant he was leaving. Leaving not just his position, but her. Texas. The apartment.

It would’ve been disingenuous for her to say anything more.

Then, he added, almost sheepishly, “I also asked Teresa to marry me. And move to DC so we can be together.”

The blade of her knife hit the cutting board a little harder than normal. “Oh. That’s nice.” Cutting away the tough outer skin, she forced herself to ask, “What did she say?”

He sighed and crossed his arms, biting his lip as if to contain a smile. “She said she’d think about it. But I think she’ll come around. I kind of, uh, sprung it onto her the other night.”

And yet there he was, standing next to a woman who would’ve been ready to say yes. But even so, she said, “I’m sure things will work out between you two. You’ve already given so much to your relationship; it would be a shame for her to not see how great you are.”

She slid him a bowl of perfectly cubed melon.

Smiling softly, he took the bowl into his hands. “You’re the best, honeydew.”

The best, but not the one.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side before you leave for DC, brown eyes,” she jested, nudging him with her elbow. Her chest filled with warmth at his laugh. She tried her best to hang onto that feeling, to that sound. “When are you two leaving?”

“I’m already about halfway packed,” he mused, chewing on a cube of honeydew thoughtfully. “So maybe within the week? I hope that’s enough time for Teresa to make a decision.”

There was less time than she thought. She hummed softly. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? That it’s what you want?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, I...I know that I don’t have the best track record with relationships, but something about her feels right.” The bowl was set into the sink and filled with water. “I’m happy, honey. You don’t have to worry.”

Erin’s eyes burned as she quietly replied, “Okay.”

< previous chapter | next chapter >

TAGLISTS: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

PERMANENT: @cinewhore​ @randomness501​ @theghostwiththemost-babe​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @catfishingmorales​ @halfwaythereroyal​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @talesfromtheguild​ @tortles​ @ladamari68​ @theokatcov @snivellusim​ @starryluce​ @inked-poet​ @browneyes-djarin​ @shedobewritingalittle​ @chews-erotically​ @thefandomimagines​ @emesispo​ @mindless--ramblings​ @phoenixhalliwell​

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #Agent Pike x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #we can be herores #the mentalist #the mentalist x we can be heroes #my writing #honeydew

[celestianstars]

Sweet Dreams

Chris Evans x Black Female!Reader

Request: Chris is sleep deprived from stress and you decide to do what you can to help him get some rest

Warnings: lots of fluff and only some mentions of smut 

Word Count: 2.3k 

Note: I know I said I’d try and make this one short but kinda didn’t stick to that plan lol, but it’s a quick read I promise!

——————————————————————————

“Did you get any sleep last night, Chris? You look wiped out.” you watched your boyfriend make his way around the kitchen, eyes low and sunken. 

“I mean...I think I got a solid hour or two.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and sitting down at the table next to you. 

You chewed at the inside of your lip, your hand automatically reaching out to hold his. 

Chris had been super busy lately in terms of work and work related things. 

He had just gotten back the other day from filming another project and then 24 hours later was on another flight to D.C for a more important, political endeavor he’d been working on for a good couple years now. 

It shocked you that he wasn’t out like a light the second he got home last night, he looked ready to be back in his own bed, only if you and Dodger would accompany him, however, which was made clear by the pout he gave you when he asked you to come to bed a little earlier than your usual time.

But seemingly, he hadn’t slept at all while you lay your head on his chest and fell asleep within minutes. 

Chris was always good at getting you to do that, he was warm and his heart was beating calm and steady and his fingers were lightly brushing against your skin as he held you, all a recipe for you slip into a deep sleep.  

It worried you a little, sleep was so important and you didn’t like seeing Chris look this tired or stressed either but you tried to persuade him and your own mind that it was probably just the fact that he’d been travelling so much lately, his body was too wired to really let him rest. 

It made sense, and it was true to an extent but Chris wasn’t ready to admit that it was because he was more stressed than jet lagged. 

Talking about it might bring those fears about his work to reality so for the time being, Chris tried to shove it all to the back of his mind and just focus on having a nice stretch of time off where he could finally spend some quality time with you and his best dog and go visit and catch up with family. 

“Alright sleepyhead, what do you want for breakfast is the real question here.” you stand up and come over to ruffle his hair, smiling softly at the way his arms immediately come up to wrap around your waist. 

“Hmm, I’ve been dying for some of those homemade waffles and eggs of yours. Tried making them myself and it was a disaster in my hotel kitchen.” Chris snorts, leaning forward to press a kiss to your ribs. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn the place down, but you got it baby. Oh, also! I was wondering if we could drop by the beauty supply store, I need more braiding hair, I was thinking of doing smaller braids this time.” 

“Sure thing! We need more dog food anyways and it’s right in the area. And braids, huh? I can’t wait, you know I love seeing you with that style.” 

Chris caught you rolling your eyes at that, both of you chuckling because of the very dirty innuendo to his tone. 

He liked to play with your braids and pull them in bed, gently of course cause he knows you’d kill him if one of them loosened up and unraveled. But he also really couldn’t stop himself from doing it while he fucked you good, and not that you were complaining either. 

---

You were browsing the chew toy section of the pet store you were in, letting Dodger sniff around the toys. Chris was right behind you, shaking his head at how much you spoiled his dog. 

“What?! He deserves another toy, ok. He was such a good boy keeping me company while you were away. Best cuddle buddy.” you shrugged at the way Chris feigned shock. 

“Oh so my own dog had taken my place as best cuddle buddy huh? I thought you were supposed to be wingman, Dodge, not steal my girl.” 

“I can’t with you oh my god. Nah, you’re still my number one everything, Evans.” you lean back against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder, turning your face to press a kiss to his bearded jaw. 

“And I see that barber I told you to go to has shown this beard some love. Such a clean line up.” you wink at him and he pinches your ass.

“That’s for sure, thank you for that by the way. But it could also use some extra love with you sitting on it, is all I’m sayin.” now it was Chris’ turn to watch your jaw drop. 

Yeah, it had been awhile and though neither of you were up for it last night, tonight Chris intended to show you exactly how much he’d missed you. 

---

Later that day you were sitting on the couch watching a show on Netflix, Dodger at your feet while Chris drank some coffee, brows knit in concentration as he read over some papers. 

“How’s the business in D.C coming along?” you noticed the usual stressed out body language and gestures from him. He kept running his hands through his hair and letting out little sighs and huffs here and there. 

“So far so good I would say, we’ve got more senators on board for the project it’s just...I don’t know.” he leaned his back, arms crossed. Defensive and on edge was written all across his features. 

Shifting your body so you were facing him, you squeezed his thigh and took the papers from his lap, stacking them neatly and setting them aside on the coffee table. 

“Talk to me, baby. Are you worried about it all coming together? I know you’ve been taking on a lot lately, even though you’re not doing this project alone, it’s still a lot and you are the face of it, I’m sure that makes you feel some anxiety.” 

He felt tense and it made you frown, you wanted to help relax him as much as you could, and now you could see this was probably what was keeping him up at night. 

“Yeah you’re right, actually. I just want this thing to be good, something informative and easy to use and it scares me to think it’ll be a huge failure or it’ll be used for the wrong things. I think I’ve been thinking of about a hundred ways it could go wrong if I’m being honest and I don’t really know what to do,”

“By now people have seen me going back and forth from here to D.C and I’m nervous about..well everything.” he placed his palm over yours and squeezed your hand. 

Chris appreciated that you took the time to ask and really listen to him, cause half the time all he felt like he was doing was talking about his problems and not paying enough attention to you but then you’d quiet his fears and tell him that you would make sure he knew if you felt neglected. 

You understood the nature of his work and of his always good and kind intentions and how his anxiety played into all of it. 

“I wouldn’t blame you, it’s a big thing you’re doing. But remember that you’re trying to do some good, trying to make understanding politics and policy a little easier and I don’t think anybody can call you a failure for that, no matter what happens. The best any of us can do is try and bring something about that will help others and baby, you do that in so many different ways. Creatively in the art of acting and also in what you believe in outside acting.” 

You scoot closer and rest your forehead against the side of his head for a minute, letting your words sink in. 

“You’ve put so much of your time and energy and passion into this, I think you have to trust yourself a bit more. Maybe this certain project is new to you but from what I’ve seen, you’ve thought this out so well, so detailed and thoughtful to the audience you’re trying to reach. I think, and I’m not just saying this because I clearly have a bias, that you are putting out something great here,”

“And if it fails, if things don’t go how you wanted, you know that you did your best to steer it in the right direction and sometimes it doesn’t always work but that doesn’t make you a failure. You always have the opportunity to make something amazing, and coming from your insanely intelligent brain, I know it’s endless.” 

You finish off your pep talk and give him some quiet to think about what you said, smoothly sliding across to sit in his lap so you could massage his shoulders. 

Chris hummed, smiling at how soft your hands felt on him. 

You were such a gift. 

Not only did you know exactly what to say during times like this but you also seemed to know exactly what he needed, you were so observant and it kind of amazed him how you seemed to be two steps ahead of him sometimes. 

It made him want to strive to be on your level. 

All he hoped for was to reciprocate the same love and affection and support you offered him and you always reassured each other that you were doing exactly that. 

After a minute Chris opened his eyes and met your gaze, blue eyes soft and tired. 

“I fucking love you, you know that?” his voice was low and breathy and it made you bashful. 

“I know and I love you too. I just believe in you and the talent and heart you give to everything. It’s stunning to watch you work.” 

You keep a steady rhythm with your hands, moving them up to massage the back of his neck. 

“Thank you for everything. And in that case I wanna come clean about something. I haven’t been sleeping much more than an hour or so for a bit now, I thought it was just because of traveling and the workload but you were right, it’s from stressing over all this shit. But you’re right, I gotta trust myself more and have some hope in it.” 

“Yeah I figured. And I know you’ll get there, I’m sure it’s still gonna stress you out but as long as you remember what we talked about and can call upon that when it happens. How about we have a de-stress night? We’ll take a warm shower, maybe do a face mask, and I don’t know...something else that might require another shower afterwards too.” you wink and he throws his head back in a laugh. 

“Oh so that’s what this whole thing was really about, she’s trying to get in my pants, I’m just a piece of meat to her!” Chris fake cries. 

“You’re sO ridiculous oh my gosh. I mean that may have been part of it but for real, I know this is gonna come together and succeed. You’ve been doing such a great job.”

Chris nods and leans forwards, his arms coming around you again, pressing you forward into his chest where his lips met yours, a searingly passionate and loving kiss melting everything else away. 

Abruptly, you pulled away, squirming your way out of his grip to drop down to your knees in front of him, your head resting on his thigh while your hands tugged at his belt buckle. His eyebrows went up in question but he didn’t stop you. 

“Oh so this is your idea of de-stressing?” his eyes darkened and he raised his hips up slightly to help you slide his pants down. 

“Mhm, sucking your dick is therapeutic for me honestly, and I wanna make you relax.” you smirked again, letting your hands start going to work because you truly were eager to get your hands on him. 

“God, you’re really something else. Not complaining though, fuck that feels good. I’ve really missed this. And as long as you know I’m gonna return the favor. I was serious about this beard needing some of your love.” 

“Fine by me, baby.” you giggle, sinking your mouth down around his tip, relishing in his taste and the way he hissed and contracted underneath you. 

---

After a couple hours of going at it in bed rather loudly, and a nice shower and peeling face masks off each other, you and Chris were finally settled in bed, Dodger laying at the foot of the bed. 

“I am actually struggling to keep my eyes open right now, baby. It’s a miracle.” 

Chris smiled lazily, pulling the covers up around your shoulders while you got comfy snuggling into him. 

“See, told you I knew the trick to getting good rest. You deserve it too. I hope you have sweet dreams, meatball.” you nuzzle his neck and place a chaste kiss to his lips before settling back down. 

Chris only grunted in response and you went on talking for a little bit longer, explaining how happy you were he was home and that you’d finally be able to sleep in with him for a good week. 

He’d been quiet for a minute and when you glanced up to check, you found your handsome man asleep, a calm look on his face, his breathing beginning to slow. 

And with another soft kiss to his chest, you lay your head against his heart and shut your eyes, happy and serene knowing you were in his arms and had gotten him to finally sleep easily again. 

Sweet dreams. 

---

A/N: Reading that interview Chris did where he mentioned he only slept like an hour a night recently I was like...my baby, nooo. Hopefully he’s getting some good sleep soon cause it’s what he deserves, periodt pooh!

I hope this was alright and thank you to the anon that requested this, I loved writing it and hope it wasn’t too long since I know we discussed making it shorter.

And thank you to everyone reading! I love y’all so much I truly do!

Please let me know what you think also, I’m a slut for feedback!

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#amalia writes #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans oneshot #chris evans fanfics #chris evans fics #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x woc #chris evans x poc #chris evans smut

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (5)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: explicit sex, cursing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, some secondhand embarrassment

word count: 6.8k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: hi loves! thank you as always for your kind and supportive messages regarding the last part! if you didn’t see my post, you can now track the tag #thepactfic in order to keep up with updates and future parts. that being said, i’ve officially decided the story will be a total of 6 parts. one more full part after this! please let me know how you’re liking it and if you have any thoughts, feelings, questions etc don’t be afraid to shoot me a message  ❤️

↳ index here

“I gotta be honest,” Jaebeom said, fingers tapping against the cafe table. “I was surprised to hear from you.” 

“Yeah,” you began, folding your hands on your lap and offering him a kind smile. “I- well, I wanted to apologize for leaving you hanging that night at the club…”

Even though he’d done it to you plenty of times. Texted you, asking what you were up to, until inevitably, he stopped responding a few messages in. Danced with you when you came to one of his DJing gigs only to leave with someone else. Even today, he’d shown up ten minutes late. It was about time somebody did the same to him. Still, you couldn’t help your conscience. 

Jaebeom shrugged. “That’s alright. Although I’m starting to think you’ve been avoiding me.” There was a playfulness to his tone, but you had a feeling it had been a shot to his pride. He wasn’t used to girls standing him up. 

“Maybe… a little. That’s actually why I wanted to meet you today.” 

It had been Sana’s idea, which surprised you both. She’d come home from trivia half an hour later than you the other night, knocking softly on the door to check if you were still awake. 

After a long talk, you finally admitted your feelings for Jinyoung to someone other than yourself. She didn’t reassure you that he felt the same way, because you both knew he probably didn’t. If Jinyoung said he was going to do something, he did it. 

You had no reason to think you were anything more than a friend to him now, with some added bonuses. 

She did say, however, that you needed to talk to Jaebeom. As much as she hated the way he treated you, you needed closure in order to completely close that chapter. You agreed, and here you were. 

You’d picked a very public place during your lunch break from work, just so that you didn’t feel tempted to fall into his trap again. The weird thing was, as he sat in front of you, something had changed. Your feelings for him lingered like an aftertaste, nowhere near as powerful as they had been even a month ago. 

It didn’t compare to the real thing, you realized. 

“I’m sure you know this,” you began, staring down at your fingernails, “but I’ve liked you for a long time. Like, a really long time. Since we were fourteen.”

“I know.” Jaebeom’s words made you finally look up, locking eyes with him. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, Y/N, but subtle is not one of them.” He smiled at you in the way that would’ve normally had your stomach fluttering. “That’s why I was so confused when you started blowing me off.”

“Yeah. I guess I just, I was tired of waiting for you to like me back. Because you never did, right? At least not the way I liked you. So I decided that it was time for me to move on, finally, and now…” you took a deep breath, feeling like you were talking more to yourself than to Jaebeom, “now I think I found someone that I really like. It feels different.” 

You paused to take in Jaebeom’s expression. He wasn’t hurt, but he seemed confused. He had every right to be. He probably thought you were a little bit crazy for sharing all of this, but you needed to get it off of your chest.

“I did like you, Y/N.” 

“You what?” you asked, blinking at him. “When?”

First Jinyoung, now this? You didn’t know how many more confessions you could take. 

Jaebeom shrugged, sipping from his espresso. “In high school. I mean, surely you could tell? I was always asking to borrow a pencil in math class… I figured you didn’t think I was that forgetful.” 

You remembered being tortured in that Calculus class. His seat was diagonally in front of you, allowing you the perfect view to his flawless profile for forty minutes every single day. Whenever he asked you for a pencil, you had to count to ten to stop thinking about his fingers brushing against yours. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.” 

“Well,” he said, his lips quirking up. “It’s true. But I liked a lot of girls—it was high school. I was going to ask you out after graduation, before you and Jinyoung went off to university. But Jinyoung flipped on me, telling me not to mess around with you, and not to ask you out unless I wanted it to last forever. Scared the shit out of me. So I backed off.” 

Suddenly your throat was bone dry, and the coffee wasn’t helping. It was a lot to digest, finding that Jaebeom had returned your feelings after all, if only for a few years. You and probably a dozen other girls. Still, you’d never thought you had a chance, especially not back then.

“Did Jinyoung ever talk about me?” you found yourself asking. It wouldn’t do you any good to find out just how deep his feelings for you ran, considering they were probably long gone, but the masochist in you wanted to know. For some reason, you cared more about that than Jaebeom’s former crush. 

Jaebeom barked out a laugh. “Did he? Fuck, he barely ever stopped. He had a thing for you, you know? I mean, he never told me outright, but I could tell. It pissed him off whenever he’d catch me staring down your shirt at lunch and he’d give me the cold shoulder for the next day and a half.”

How oblivious had you been in high school? You’d always been so busy reading and studying, maybe if you’d lifted your nose out of those books you would have noticed. You spent more time with Jinyoung than Jaebeom, but both boys were a part of your daily life. It had all been right under your nose. 

“Is it him?” Jaebeom asked after a moment of your silence. “The guy you like? I saw you leave with him that night, kinda figured maybe he’d finally grown some balls and gone for it with you.” 

“Y-yeah, actually.” You rubbed the back of your neck. That hollowness of your missed opportunity was still heavy in your chest. You missed him so much it hurt. 

Jaebeom nodded, tongue running over his teeth. “Well, good for him. It’s about time.” He didn’t seem jealous or bothered by the idea of you with Jinyoung, which just cemented what you already knew—his feelings were never as intense as yours. 

And whatever he had going on with that girl, the one from his bathroom mirror selfies, you just felt bad for her now. You weren’t jealous, you felt pity. Pity because she was probably a lot like you, expecting more from Jaebeom than he was ready to give. 

There was an unspoken tension between the two of you now, but you felt different… like you’d finally cut off that loose end that had been hanging around you for years. You looked at Jaebeom in front of you, the person you’d convinced yourself you were in love with, and all you could think about was Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung wouldn’t have been late. He would’ve been early, sat in a corner booth with coffee and your favorite blueberry muffin waiting. Maybe he would have teased you for making him wait, but he’d still let you have your muffin with a little convincing. 

You missed him so much. 

But you knew if you were going to get over Jinyoung, you at least needed to be finished with Jaebeom first. It was almost comical the way your timing always seemed to be wrong. Why couldn’t your heart just be on time for once?

“I should go,” you said finally, standing up. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“No problem.” Jaebeom stood as well, digging in his pocket for cash to leave a tip on the table. “And Y/N?”

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

“Tell Jinyoungie I said hi, and if he wants to catch up…” Jaebeom ran his fingers through his hair, one of his nervous habits. 

You smiled. “I will. I’ll see you around, okay? Take care of yourself, Jaebeom.” 

Jaebeom, despite everything, was not a bad man. Deep down, he was good, which was what had always made it so hard for you to leave him behind. You’d always think of the time he walked you home from school when your mom got stuck late at work, the summer he worked at the animal rescue shelter, the way he used to snort when he laughed at Jinyoung’s jokes, and a million more fragments of his soul he’d let you see over the years. 

But at the end of the day, he wasn’t the one for you. You’d spent so many years making excuses, covering your eyes when he showed you the parts that didn’t fit with your idea of him, but you were ready to see him as he was now. You hoped someday he would find happiness, love, and satisfaction. It just wouldn’t be with you. 

As you walked out of the cafe and the door clicked behind you, you felt that door in your heart finally slide closed. And it felt good. 

~~~

Three long days later, and Jinyoung was finally home. 

It killed you that you couldn’t see him right away. Right after he got home on Wednesday night, he’d passed out from jet lag and you’d had to work late the next night. His body was still adjusting and he’d gone to bed right about the same time you got home.

Your schedules lined up, at last, by Friday evening. Jinyoung had the rest of the week off after working through the weekend, but his sleep schedule was so backwards that he ended up sleeping through most of your waking hours. He was mostly adjusted by Friday, though, and you rushed over straight after work without even stopping for dinner. 

You’d decided that you needed to end it with Jinyoung. There had been rules, after all, to this pact you’d made. You’d broken one already, and in doing so, you’d broken another—honesty. But you knew you needed to see him one last time. Just for closure. Then you could move on. 

Jinyoung didn’t suspect anything, as far as you knew. You’d held up your promise to send him a picture every day, with varying degrees of naughtiness, and even FaceTimed a few times. The time difference made it difficult but… you’d managed. 

It was nothing compared to how he looked in the flesh, though. When he opened the door, you felt those damn butterflies wake up, low in your stomach. 

He didn’t look as tired as you thought he would. In fact, he looked pretty damn awake to you. 

You barely got inside before he was pushing you against the closed door, crowding you into the barrier with his own body. With his lips pressing into yours, he effectively had you trapped. 

But you didn’t mind. You’d missed this so much it only took you a split second before you wrapped your arms around him, relishing in the heat that came from his body. 

As soon as he parted from your lips, he trailed kisses down your neck to the collar of your work button-up. “Hi,” you breathed, digging your hands into his shoulder blades where you held him. 

“Hi,” he said into your skin, fingers already working at the buttons of your shirt. 

“How was your-“ your words were cut off by a groan as Jinyoung sucked at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Jinyoung's response was a frustrated grunt as he fumbled with the plastic holding your shirt together, and all you could do was gasp when he tore the shirt open, buttons clinking to the floor. 

You stared at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping open. 

“I’ll buy you another one.” 

Without another word, he dove back in to your neck, lips nibbling and sucking at your flesh. You completely forgot about your ruined shirt when he began grinding his hips into yours, his hardness already pressing into your thigh. 

“Missed you… so much…” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and inhaling the scent of crisp summer fruit. “You smell so good. Is this shampoo new?”

“Stole some from the hotel,” he replied, punctuated by a bite to your neck that made you shiver. 

“All that…” You slid your hand down his body, fingertips brushing over his belt buckle until you were able to cup your hand over the obvious bulge in his pants, “hard work packing… and you still stole hotel toiletries.”

Jinyoung made a noise deep in his throat, almost a growl as you began massaging your palm against him, his face still buried in your neck. “Don’t tease. I’ve been hard since you said you were coming over.” 

You smirked, running your tongue over your lips. “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you left, Jinyoung. Trust me, I’m not teasing.” 

Finally, Jinyoung pulled back enough to crush your lips together in a heated, messy kiss. You had missed his taste, the warmth of his mouth colliding with yours, the way he ran his tongue over your lip before he nipped it. 

Your hands quickly undid his belt and zipper, freeing him from his jeans just enough for you to wrap your hand around his member over the fabric of his briefs. He was hard as ever, pulsing slightly in your grip. 

As Jinyoung licked into your mouth, you began a slow pace massaging his cock, fingers following the outline pressed into your hand. You’d barely traced the length of him five times before he was moaning and rutting his hips into your hand. 

“Fuck,” he said, pulling back from your lips but keeping his forehead pressed into yours. 

You squeezed his length once, then twice, and felt Jinyoung’s cock pulse, even through the barrier of cotton. A feeling you usually only felt when he was inside of you. 

“Shit, no, no-“

Jinyoung inhaled sharply, fist coming up to slam into the wall next to your shoulder, trying to pull his hips from the contact of your hand. You barely realized what was happening until you looked at him to find his eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack as an orgasm wracked through him. 

You gulped, your hand slowly falling away once you were sure he’d come down from his high. Though when he opened his eyes, they were filled with regret and shame. 

“God, I’m sorry, I-“ he started, looking down at his crotch, then up at you. “I can’t believe I just…”

“You just came in your pants.”

It took just about everything in you to keep your face straight. He’d never come that fast, at least not with you. Jinyoung dropped his head onto your shoulder with a breathy laugh. 

“I’m so sorry.”

You bit back a giggle, sliding your arms around his waist, fingers sliding up the back of his black tee. “Jinyoung, it’s fine. We have all night, you know.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” he said, deep and low near your ear before he pulled away. His face was flushed from his orgasm, all the way to the tips of his ears. Just from the look in his eyes, you knew he had a plan. 

“Okay… what did you have in mind?” 

Instead of granting you an answer, he slid his hands up the curves of your waist, fingers dragging over the lace of your bra. He kept his eyes on you as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders, just a useless scrap of fabric now that he’d ripped the buttons off. 

Then he dropped to his knees, fingertips trailing down your skin until they played with the waistband of your pants. You hoped he wouldn’t rip these—they’d been rather expensive. 

He took care with the button and zipper, seemingly reading your mind, then tugged the pants down your thighs to pool at your ankles. He removed one shoe, then the other, so that he could allow you to step out of your bottoms. This left you in just your panties and bra, which of course he’d seen you in before, dozens of times, but he was looking at you like you were brand new to him. 

“Open,” he told you, scooting close until his face was level with your hips. You obeyed easily, earning you a cocky smirk. “Good girl.” 

Your head fell back against the door as you stared down at Jinyoung. He’d gone from bashful and embarrassed to this, heating you from the inside out, all with just his gaze. 

As always, he didn’t give you what you wanted straight away. He brushed his lips over the sensitive skin of your stomach, kissing every curve and line, even those spots you hated to see in the mirror. He’d made you forget all about that, only focused on feeling. 

You shivered as his breath fanned over your skin and goosebumps rose on your arms. His lips traveled down to your thighs, skipping over your center because of course, he needed to keep you on your toes. 

“Jinyoung…” you whined, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Please.”

He looked up, mouth still pressing into your inner thigh, and he smiled. He loved to have you like this, and you couldn’t deny your favorite place to be was wrapped around his finger. 

“Hm.. please what?” he challenged, now teasing the waistband of your panties with his fingers. “What do you want me to do?”

You huffed out a breath. “Jinyoung,“ you complained, “eat me out before I go insane.” 

Jinyoung made you wait only a few more torturous moments before he slid the lacy garment down your thighs to your knees, eyes glued to your center as soon as it was revealed to him. He had the nerve to lick his lips. 

“Pretty,” he muttered, placing his thumbs on either side of your folds to open you up for him. He leaned in, hot breath against your clit just before he latched on.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t touched yourself since he’d been gone—hell, he’d been the one to bring you to orgasm twice thanks to FaceTime—but it wasn’t even in the same league as Jinyoung’s mouth on you. 

One second, you felt like you had all the power, the next, he had you practically melting into the door, grabbing his hair and begging for more. The harder he worked into your clit, the more you arched your hips towards him, desperate and whimpering. 

Jinyoung knew all of your spots and it turned out, he wasn’t the only one that had trouble keeping his orgasm at bay. You felt the familiar waves of heat surging through your body as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit, a quick and powerful pace that sent you barreling towards your climax. 

You cried out as you came. Core clenching around nothing, you jerked your hips into his face, completely overwhelmed with bliss. Jinyoung was good to you, licking and sucking until you calmed under his touch. 

Unable to hold yourself up with shaky knees, you slid down the door until you were sitting, level with Jinyoung. You let him take you into his arms, kissing the side of your face and stroking your back. 

“What are we, teenagers?” you asked once your body stopped twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Jinyoung chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you and smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “Feels like it.”

Now that you weren’t quite so consumed by lust, you were able to appreciate him up close, for the first time since his trip. He must have gotten some sun, judging by the slightly darkened tone of his skin. There were no bags under his eyes, not like you would’ve had if you flew across the world. He looked even better than the last time you’d seen him, which was almost infuriating. 

Just as you were going to scold him for being so handsome, your stomach growled, loud enough for both of you to hear. Jinyoung glanced down, then back up at you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Hungry?” 

Your cheeks flushed pink and you nodded. “Maybe a little.” 

Jinyoung nodded back at his kitchen and shrugged. “How about takeout? I don’t really have anything in the fridge, still need to hit the store.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you answered. “But we both need new clothes first.” 

----

An hour later, you were dressed in a pair of Jinyoung’s sweatpants and one of his shirts, and he was dressed in a similarly comfortable outfit. He sat next to you on the couch, slurping on ramen. 

You’d ordered enough food for ten people, you realized, after you covered his coffee table with plates and containers that you each picked from. 

“So what you’re saying is everyone loved you,” you said, wiping at your mouth with your napkin. 

Jinyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Not necessarily. But you know, the girls especially were very interested in our company. One of the convention center employees kept fawning over me. Julie, I think her name was…”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, really? Julie?” You pressed your lips together, grumbling to yourself as you reached for the pork belly. “Stupid name.” 

Jinyoung watched you with an amused smile, setting his ramen down on the coffee table to wrap an arm around your waist. “Are you jealous?” 

You ignored him, shoveling a piece of pork into your mouth, looking anywhere but his face. He took the plate out of your hands, setting it down on the table. You whined in protest, mouth full of food. 

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous.” 

He was right--you didn’t. He wasn’t yours, you didn’t have any sort of claim on him. He could’ve taken Julie back to his hotel room if he’d wanted to, and you wouldn’t have had any good reason to be upset. 

“You’re the only one I thought about,” he said, lips brushing the side of your jaw. 

Why did he have to make it so hard, saying things like that? He thought about you, but not like that. He thought about your body, about the sex, but that was all this was. 

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him you wanted to talk about your arrangement, when he beat you to it. 

“That reminds me, actually, I have something for you.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he stood from the couch and jogged out of the living room towards his room. 

You sighed, head falling back against the couch cushion. You needed to let this go, and you needed to do it now. You could feel yourself falling for him the more that he looked at you, touched you, kissed you. Soon you’d be in a hole you wouldn’t be able to dig yourself out of. 

When Jinyoung came back and sat next to you, he placed a book in your lap. It took you all of three seconds to recognize it, and you were glad you no longer had food in your mouth or you would have choked. 

“You didn’t!” you gasped, grabbing for the book and flipping it back and forth. “This doesn’t come out for another six months!” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “Well, they had some advanced copies lying around and I thought you’d kill me if I didn’t steal one for you.” 

“Yeah, I would have.” 

You’d talked about this book no less than twenty times in Jinyoung’s presence. It wasn’t his cup of tea, but you’d practically been counting down the days for this particular novel, a follow-up to a thriller you’d flown through as soon as it came out last year. 

“Thank you,” you told him, finally looking away from the book in your hands to Jinyoung’s face. He was watching you, corner of his lips quirked. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You stared back down at the book, running your fingers over the cover. Although he hadn’t paid a cent for this, it was one of the best surprises you’d ever received. Your fingers were itching to open it and dive in. 

“You want to start reading it now, don’t you?” 

Giving him a sheepish smile, you nodded. “Yeah.” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “You can. I’ve got plenty that I need to read, I’ll join you.” 

Half an hour later, the two of you were still on the couch, but you were laying with your head at one end and your feet on Jinyoung’s lap at the other end. He had a book resting on top of your ankles and you were already three chapters into your new book. 

You normally hated reading around people, too easily distracted just by the presence of another person, but this felt so natural. You wondered if you’d be able to go back to normal again, after you ended it. 

You’d find a way to live without the affection he’d given you. After all, it hadn’t been real. Your arrangement had served its purpose—you could finally say you were over Jaebeom, and as far as you knew, Jinyoung was over Yeri. He never talked about her, but he didn’t seem particularly torn up over her anymore. 

You wiggled your toes when Jinyoung began running his fingertips over the top of your foot to your ankle, then back again, just a mindless graze over your skin. You looked up over the top of your book, watching the way his eyes followed the words on the page he was reading, brows together in concentration. 

Someday, some other girl would be the one to see him like this, reading on the couch in the evening light while surrounded by greasy takeout. You hoped this girl would love him the way he deserved and wouldn’t take it for granted like Yeri obviously had. 

You stared back down at your book once Jinyoung caught you staring and pretended as if you’d just been spacing out, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

“What are you thinking?” Jinyoung asked. 

“Huh?” You looked up, shaking your head. “Nothing. Why?” 

“You look sad.” He set his book down on his lap, resting both of his hands on your shins. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing,” you said once more. If this was your last night with Jinyoung, you weren’t going to waste it wallowing and thinking about the end. You could pretend, just for the night, that this was real. “Just a sad part in the book.” 

“Already?” 

You nodded. “Could use a kiss.” 

Jinyoung pressed his lips together, considering it. “Huh... that’s an interesting suggestion. You think it’d make you less sad?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Ah,” he nodded, stroking the exposed skin of your ankle with his thumb, “It’s worth a try, then.” 

In an easy movement, he was shifting your legs off of his lap and crawling over you until he hovered over your body. You’d missed having his weight on you like this—you always felt so safe underneath of him. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, once his lips were only a centimeter from yours. “Not just the sex. I missed you.”

Jinyoung shifted back enough to look at your face, his eyes searching your features for something, you weren’t sure what. “Yeah? I missed you too.” 

You slid your hands up the fabric of his shirt, grazing over the warm skin of his back. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could think about was how somehow, your heart had become entirely his.

You needed to show him, just once, how you felt. 

So you tipped your head up to kiss him, as softly as you ever had. Kissed him with all the love you could muster, as scary as it was to let it pour out. 

Jinyoung was gentle with you in return, his soft, polite lips melting into yours. It was almost tragic how well your lips fit together, knowing you’d never feel it again after tonight. 

Your hands trailed up his back, pushing his tee up to his shoulders in the process. Jinyoung sat up, parting from your lips just long enough to remove his shirt. 

Then he was kissing you again, hand resting on your jaw as his tongue pushed past your lips. You moaned, savoring the taste of him, even if the kiss tasted a little bit like cheap takeout. 

“Wait, wait,” Jinyoung said against your lips as soon as you made a move to push down his sweatpants. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Wanna spread you out.”

You shivered at his words and nodded, letting him pull you up off the couch by the hand and lead you back to the bedroom. 

It was much neater than it was the last time you’d seen it. In fact, it was spotless as ever. No suitcases lying on the ground or shampoo bottles littering the bed. 

Jinyoung removed your shirt the proper way this time, then unclasped your bra a moment later to allow it to fall to the floor. Goosebumps covered your chest but the pure heat in Jinyoung’s gaze got your blood pumping faster, hotter. 

He lifted you without much warning, guiding your legs around his waist as he carried you the rest of the way into his room, falling onto the bed with you trapped underneath of him. You squeezed your legs around his waist, desperate for some contact between your thighs. 

“So… god damn beautiful,” Jinyoung whispered, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before he brushed soft kisses across your face. Your forehead, each cheek, then your nose. It crinkled in response, and you were blessed with a fond smile from Jinyoung. 

The rest of your clothes seemed to fall away, an act that had become as natural as breathing for the two of you. Jinyoung whispered words of praise as he moved down your body, hooking a leg over his shoulder. 

His tongue found your clit naturally, delving deep into your folds to taste the arousal that had gathered there. With each gasp and moan, he worked harder, wanting you needy and wet for him. 

You felt around for his hands, needing something to anchor you to earth while he sucked at your clit for the second time that night, the pressure just enough to drive you mad. 

“Oh, fuck—Jinyoung, right there. Feels so good.” Your hips rolled, matching the rhythm of the heavenly way he was licking into you. 

He moaned into your core, the vibration like a shock of electricity against your clit. Your hips jerked up towards his face and he squeezed your hands, as if telling you to let go. 

Jinyoung brought you over the edge for the second time that night, your thighs clenching around his shoulders as you repeated his name, over and over. 

Your whole body went limp afterwards, only vaguely registering Jinyoung kissing your skin, nuzzling his face into your thighs. 

“Perfect. You don’t even know how stunning you are, like you were made for me,” he spoke against your skin, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands. 

When you recovered enough to open your eyes, you tugged Jinyoung’s hands until he got the hint, crawling back up your body. His lips were on you again in an instant, tongue tasting and exploring like it was the first time. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight. 

Jinyoung parted from you after a moment, dipping his head down to leave hot kisses across your chest. Your hands pushed into his hair, moaning out when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

You arched your back as his tongue drew tight circles around the hardened peak, shameless moans and whimpers falling from your lips. 

“Jinyoung, please,” you begged, tugging at the locks of hair between your fingers. “Need you inside.”

Then he looked at you again in a way that made your heart clench. It was only because he was lost in the moment, nothing more. But it felt like he was looking deeper, right into the center of your heart to see the truth there. 

“Y/N…” he started, bringing a hand to the side of your face. His fingertips ran down your cheek to your chin, where he pressed the pad of his thumb into your lower lip. Something about it made you want to cry. 

So you cut off whatever he wanted to say with a kiss, a bruising pressure that you hoped let him know that this was the only place you wanted to be. Here, underneath of his body, you couldn’t imagine anything better. 

It was easy, automatic, the way he angled your knee so that he could sheathe himself inside of you. Slowly, inch by inch, you accepted him. Your walls were slick and ready for him, but it was still a stretch that you’d missed.

“Shit,” Jinyoung whispered against your lips, finally pulling back and taking a deep inhale. “You feel so perfect.” 

You groaned as he bottomed out, burying your face into his neck. You whispered his name if only because it was the only thing you could think as he started rocking his hips into yours, a deep but unbearably slow pace. But this was what you wanted; you needed it to last. Forever, if it could. 

You felt so vulnerable now, knowing that this was it. Jinyoung didn’t know that, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t keep it up. You couldn’t fall more and more in love with him every day, and only get this part of him. There would come a day where you couldn’t take it anymore, and by that point the damage might be too painful to reverse. 

It was better to end it now. But for tonight, you’d take as much as you could. 

Jinyoung began a consistent but torturous pace, the tip of his cock reaching as deep inside of you as you’d ever felt him each time he pushed inside, past the tight resistance of your walls. His free hand trailed down your body, fingertips ghosting southbound over the center of your chest. 

This was all you wanted, all you needed. 

“Please,” you found yourself pleading. Your nails traced angry marks down his back, marks you wanted to remain there forever if only so that he would think about you when this was all over. “Jinyoung…” 

“I’m right here, angel.” His lips found your ear and he kissed the sensitive spot underneath, letting you hear the breathy pants falling from his lips as he picked up the pace of his hips. His hand drifted over, only a few inches, until it was covering your heart.

“Yours,” you whispered, practically inaudible, half hoping he didn’t hear. It was his, it had been for longer than you knew. 

Something about this egged Jinyoung on, his pace growing stronger inside of you and his hips pinning you into the bed roughly. Without any warning, Jinyoung rolled the two of you over so that he was underneath of you and sat up. 

You maneuvered your legs to allow you to kneel over his lap, your thighs straddling his hips and hardly missing a beat as you began to ride him. When you stole a glance at Jinyoung’s face, you wished you could have taken a photo. 

He was completely blissed out, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. You reached for his hair, guiding his head forward so that you could look at him. You needed to see him. 

Jinyoung held your hips as you placed your hands on his chest, allowing yourself some leverage, especially when he started to buck up against you each time you slid back over him. You dug your nails into his chest and moaned out, louder and louder as he fucked into you. 

“Look at me,” you said, commanding his attention back to your face. You were met with so much lust that it made your walls clench around him. 

The way he looked at you sent heat through your limbs, even as your thighs started to shake from the way you rode him. Jinyoung touched you all over, hands roaming your back and down to your ass, squeezing it within his palms. 

“Oh God, don’t… don’t stop,” you pleaded, head falling forward to rest against his forehead. You looked into his eyes, clouded with desire. Jinyoung reached for your hand on his chest, sliding it over the few inches until it rested over the left side of his chest, right over his heart. 

“Yours,” he whispered, then brought your hand up to his lips to kiss your fingertips. 

You closed your eyes and felt a tear slide down your cheek, so you turned your head to the side so he wouldn’t see. He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know what it meant. Caught up in the ecstacy of the way your bodies moved together, the pleasure it brought the two of you. 

His hips jerked up, hard, forcing his cock deep against your inner walls. He did it again and again until you were squeezing his hand, tight enough to hurt, but you needed your release. You were desperate now. 

The complicated tornado of emotions inside of you was getting to be too much, you wanted it to be over. You needed it to be over, so you could figure out what the hell you were going to do. 

“Need more. Fuck me, Jinyoung. Please,” you whispered, deliberately squeezing your walls around his cock. He groaned low, wrapping his arms around your waist to tip the two of you forward until you were on your back again, knees locked around his waist. 

His hands found yours, lacing your fingers together as he held your arms above your head, pressed deep into the mattress as he drilled into you. “Mine,” he told you, eyes locked onto yours. He didn’t know just how true that was. 

You knew you were close by the way your thighs started trembling, tightening where they rested on either side of his hips. Jinyoung sensed it as well, picking up his pace. His jaw tightened with the effort, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck. 

“Oh fuck, you gonna come for me?” he asked, running his tongue over his lips. “Come on, baby, come for me again. Need to feel you.” 

His words went straight to your center, where his body met yours, sending you tipping over the edge. You arched your back, not caring how loud you cried out. Your hands tightened around his as your entire body pulsed around him, locking your legs around his waist. 

Jinyoung must have been encouraged on by your orgasm, as you felt his thrusts become more and more off rhythm. He let go of your hands and buried his face into your neck as he filled you up, letting out a guttural groan into your collarbone. 

You crossed your ankles behind his back, not ready to let him pull out of you just yet. With your arms and legs wrapped around him, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck and willed yourself not to cry. 

It’d be okay, you knew it would be, but right now you just needed him to hold you. You’d find a way to forget this someday, the perfect way he fit inside of you, the way he made your heart pound without even trying. 

Your efforts were unsuccessful. Once Jinyoung pulled away, he reached up to wipe wetness from your cheeks. “Did you miss me that much, angel?” 

“Shut up,” you said, averting your eyes. “My period must be coming… hormones or whatever…”

“It’s okay,” he told you, lips brushing across your cheek to collect your tears. “You don’t have to explain.”

Jinyoung left you with a hollow feeling as he pulled out of you, falling to lay on his side next to you, feet at the pillows. Propping up on one of his elbows, he brushed your hair away from your face. 

“You’re okay though, right?” 

You nodded, not having the confidence to answer out loud. But he backed off, though you could tell from his expression he didn’t completely believe you. With a kiss to your forehead, he climbed off of the bed to grab a cloth to clean you up. 

“Wait-” you reached out for him. “Stay.” 

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” Jinyoung replied, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile.

“Just-” you sighed, reaching for his arm to tug him back to you. “Just a few minutes. Please?” 

Jinyoung stared down at you, you knew he was trying to read your expression but you prayed that he wouldn’t find the truth there in your features. “Okay.” 

He laid back down, pulling you close as you curled up into him, soaking up all of the warmth he could offer to you. You tucked your head into his chest, eyes closed to keep your emotions trapped behind a wall, however shaky it may have been. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight, you could pretend. 

#thepactfic #writing #got7 #park jinyoung #jinyoung #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung smut #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung scenario #jinyoung imagine #got7 smut #got7 scenario

[forgottenpasta]

Baby, You’re Bad | 01

Summary: A drunken, pre-debut mistake comes back to haunt Yoongi when years later you turn up pregnant from the sperm he donated when he was a broke, underground rapper. idol!au, pregnant!reader.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 9.5k

Warnings: overuse of the word sperm lol; graphic depiction of artificial insemination; this is an asshole!Yoongi au; Suga when he was Gloss; use of real-life instances for plot purposes; idk some people might not like that.

“Are you ready, Miss___?

No. Yes. No. 

Maybe the fertility medication they had you on was making you illogically sentimental, but you felt like bawling your eyes out. 

The thin pen-shaped catheter in the doctor’s gloved hands epitomized everything you’d ever wanted. Third time’s the charm, they say. God, you hoped so. 

You nodded a little too vigorously. “Yes, please.”

The kind nurse who’d been assigned to you since the beginning of your treatment chuckled from beside the ultrasound machine. If the doctor was amused at your enthusiasm, she didn’t let it show. She bent her head between your stirruped legs. 

You were beyond any kind of embarrassment now, no stranger to a doctor tinkering with your vagina to get you pregnant. This was your third IUI. If you could, you’d shout it from the rooftops. If climbing the Everest and planting a flag at the summit that said “I want a fucking child!” got you pregnant, you would. If could just blast off to space—

“This might feel a little uncomfortable.”, the doctor, Kim Yeri, warned, adjusting the speculum wedged down there.

“I know.” 

The nurse gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up as she mouthed “Fighting!”. Feebly, you smiled back. In a moment of weakness, you’d spilled all your world woes to her when you’d come for the initial check-up. After two previous failed Intra Uterine Insemination attempts at two different clinics, you had been feeling like the most barren woman on the planet, despite the doctors assuring you that it wasn’t your uterus that was the problem, but “you know sometimes these things just don’t work, it’s all luck and probability.” 

Your bank balance wasn’t surviving on luck and probability though, it was suffering. Your money wasted on absolutely nothing, nada, nothing coming out of your vagina in the next nine months except more periods. You’d started to hate the sight of your own blood, associating with it the feeling of disappointment at your empty womb. 

You twitched slightly as the catheter entered you, willing yourself to not clench your pelvic muscles as the doctor had instructed. 

Ever since you could remember, you had wanted to be a mother. You absolutely adored children, lived for them. Literally. Your job as a children’s fiction writer wasn’t something that just happened, you had decided what you wanted to be during the summer vacation of junior year in high school, when all your aunts would leave you with their children as they went off golfing. That’s when you discovered that you had a special talent with mini people. You could spin intricate, sometimes nonsensical stories that put them in a trance and into a deep sleep in record time. Stories about princesses who turned into pirates, a little mouse’s adventures on other planets, a talking pebble who wanted to be a diamond and so much more. Kids loved you, even days old infants seemed to like being in your presence (their mothers’ words not yours). 

But as much as you couldn’t even dream about being anything else, writing children’s stories was hardly as lucrative as being a doctor or a lawyer. You did good enough for yourself but your job couldn’t support repeated attempts at artificially induced pregnancy. 

As the catheter breached your cervix, you closed your eyes and relaxed back into the examination chair. This was it. If it didn’t work out this time, you didn’t know what you’d do.

Try the traditional method like everyone else.

Internally, you snorted at the thought. One side effect of wanting your own child in your mid to late twenties, no potential partner ever saw eye to eye with you. Men didn’t want to be saddled down with a child this early. Your own pickiness with partners could also be blamed. You weren’t into men who weren’t good with children. One of your ex-boyfriends once scolded a 11-year-old kid for loitering around his new bike, checking it out. The next day you’d dumped him via text. 

Suffice it to say, at twenty-seven you were painfully single and the prospects of a serious relationship in your near future looked as microscopic as the sperm being currently inserted inside you. 

Looking down your hospital gown-clad body, you noted the transparent tube pumping “washed” cryopreserved and thawed semen into you. The clinic where you’d went for your first IUI had explained the procedure. The preserved donor sperm was “washed” off any impurities and chemicals to ensure maximum sperm count per mL. 

As the cloudy liquid travelled down the tube, you briefly wondered about it’s origins. When you were filling the form for donor specificities, Dr. Kim had presented you with the options of having sperm that could result in potential desired characteristics for your child. Such as a donor with green eyes or dimples or tall height or even a specific race. The whole talk had left a weird taste in your mouth and you had quickly dismissed it, writing only ‘healthy’ on the form. This wasn’t a pre-order and you’d love your child no matter how they turned out. 

Now, you let your mind wander off to the unknown person who’s child you would potentially (hopefully) bear. What were they doing right now? What did they look like? Did they have any idea they were likely about to have a biological child out there? You shook your head, anonymous donors sold their semen for money, they probably already had many children out there from women like you or infertile couples. You could never understand how a parent was comfortable knowing there was a child out there who would never know them, but you weren’t about to criticise someone you were directly profiting off of. 

“All done.” Dr. Kim smiled as she sat up straight, slowly pulling the tube out of you and placing it on the tray the nurse held out. 

“Do you think this might be it?” There was a slight wobble in your words. 

Damn hormonal drugs. 

Dr. Kim gave you the signature neutral yet evasive and unintentionally condescending smile all doctors seemed to master when their patients asked hopeful questions with no right answers. 

“If everything goes well from here on out, I can’t imagine why this shouldn’t be it. You have to take care of yourself and keep us informed about any changes in your body. I’m scheduling a check-up in two weeks. But you can take an at-home pregnancy test before that if you miss your period and feel like you might be pregnant.”, she explained, pulling out the speculum as well.

You stayed put, knowing from previous experience that keeping your pelvis horizontal for a few minutes was recommended after insemination. 

“Okay, thank you, Dr. Kim.” You smiled your gratitude at the cheerful nurse too.

“Good luck, Miss __. I’ll see you soon, hopefully with good news.”

Afterward, when you slowly made your way to your car in the clinic’s parking lot, you couldn’t help but caress your stomach. A tender, optimistic gesture. This had to be it. Having a child of your own was everything you’d ever wanted, the dream of being a mother one of the goals you had always been steadfast on. A dream which might finally be coming true. 

~•~•~

“What a nightmare.”

Yoongi’s hushed words seemed loud in the silent SUV. A complete contrast to the din and clamour outside. The car was inching at a snail’s pace, wading through a mob of fans gathered outside Charles De Gaulle. After landing, their private jet had taxied close to the VIP exit and they had left feeling like this might be a rare hassle-free entry into another country. But somehow, someone had been tipped about the cars they were leaving in and a horde of fans had greeted them as soon as they merged into the main exit outside the airport. 

“Shut up, they’re endearing.”, Taehyung griped, peering out the window when some armys started doing fanchants. “A little cringy, yeah, but cute.”

A loud thud against Yoongi’s side of the car made Taehyung and Hoseok flinch, snapping their gazes towards their hyung. In the push and pull outside, someone had toppled against Yoongi’s car door. 

The rapper cursed under his breath, immediately switching to an expression of indifference when phone cameras flashed too close, making him squint. He had thrown his face mask in his handbag and shoved it in the trunk and now he regretted it. The damn car didn’t even have tinted windows. Their jet lagged, irritated faces were going to be headlines in a matter of minutes. 

Ahead of them, the SUV Jeongguk, Namjoon, Seokjin and Jimin were in wasn’t faring any better, a swarm of fans surrounding it like bees to honey. 

Yoongi turned away from the window so they couldn’t read his mouth. “Cute, my ass. Where the fuck is the airport security? Someone’s gonna get hurt out there.”

As if on cue, three blue cars with the words Gendarmerie and flashing sirens atop haul in on the side road in a queue, the officers jumping out to contain the mob. As the fans start to disperse under harshly shouted commands, one girl pressed her hand to Yoongi’s window, gawking down at him with tears in her eyes, showing no signs of moving. 

Yoongi gave her a small smile, reaching up to align his palm with hers through the glass. Cameras flash wildly as he observed the girl hyperventilate. Soon enough the officers clad in dark blue manage to push back the crowd and the cars surge forward. The girl’s hand slipped away from the window and the rapper didn’t look back as he sighed deeply, leaning his head back against the headrest.

Their motorcade sped down the freeway in a line, heading to the Peninsula, Paris. 

His phone buzzed once in his pocket, but Yoongi didn’t care to check it, didn’t even open his eyes. 

“You shouldn’t nap right now, hyung. You’ll feel more tired when we leave for the magazine shoot as soon as we reach the hotel.”, Hoseok advised, not looking up from his own phone. 

“I don’t care. I’ll nap at the shoot too, they can take my photos with my eyes fucking closed. Nobody told them to schedule the shoot as soon we step foot in Paris.”

“Our management did.”, Taehyung supplied helpfully. 

Yoongi snorted. “Of course they did. When do they ever let us breathe.”

Their manager in the front seat cleared his throat. “I’ll be sure to relay that to the higher ups.”

“Thanks.”, Yoongi replied dryly. 

When they reach their hotel, the SUVs parked in the basement. Their keycards were quickly handed to them as they bypassed the front reception, to the private elevators straight to their rooms. Two master suites with connecting doors, four bedrooms in total. As usual, they Rock Paper Scissor it and Yoongi got to room with Namjoon. And as usual the lucky maknae won, sauntering to his room with a smug grin on his face. 

“You have half an hour to freshen up, we have to reach the magazine’s studio at 3 sharp.”, Sejin informed after them. 

Namjoon sprawled on the king sized bed when Yoongi called dibs on the shower, shucking his clothes haphazardly and placing his phone on the ornate bedside cabinet. 

His mind was blissfully blank when he stepped inside the walk-in shower, the control panel allowing him to set the perfect temperature and pressure. Because this was routine, getting to the hotel just to jet off somewhere else, his mind was on autopilot, his body long since adapted to the requirements of someone always on the move. Although he complained and grouched, he knew he wouldn’t change a thing. Couldn’t. This was what kept them at the top. 

He was out of the shower in five minutes, toweling his hair dry as he stepped inside the room naked. Namjoon didn’t even blink at him, they had been living together for the better part of a decade now, they’d seen all there was to see of each other. 

The leader stretched out his long limbs languidly, getting up sluggishly to head to the en-suite. “Your phone’s been buzzing.”

Yoongi wrapped the towel around his waist, snatching up his phone to rove a cursory glance over the notifications. He was about to throw his phone atop the bed, dismissing the vague emails, when something stops him short. He peers down at the sender’s address. 

Ajeevan Fertility & Gyne Centre. 

What?

He unlocks his phone, thoroughly confused. This was his personal phone and he only got personal emails on it.

When the email expanded to full screen, he realised something. It wasn’t send to his current email address, but the one he used to use pre-debut, the one he’d made in high school. The one which fell into disuse after they had to change all their contact information due to privacy reasons. He didn’t even remember it syncing up through all his phone changes over the years, he never got notifications from it anymore. And sure enough, the last email of import send to him on this address was from five years ago. The spam folder was full though. 

He opened the weird email again, finally deeming to read it. It was succinct, to the point.

Dear donor,

Thank you for your donation dated 2011/03/09. It has been successfully utilised to make our client’s parenthood dreams come true. You are eligible for another donation, please contact us if interested. 

Regards

Sperm Bank Office

Ajeevan Fertility & Gyne Centre

**This is an automated message, please do not reply.**

Yoongi’s eyes burned a hole where the phone displayed the date. 2011/03/09. His eighteenth birthday. He took in a shuddering breath.

No no no no no. 

Without conscious thought, he plopped down on the bed, his knees going weak. His heart beat spiked to triathlon levels. Putting the phone face down on the table, he rested his elbows on his towel draped thighs, head in his hands.

He had to think. But there was nothing but static in his jumbled brain, which was still trying to catch up to the implications of the email. 

They made a mistake. They must have. I refunded the money. I told them I didn’t want it used. 

But the date. 

“You’re still not dressed. It’s almost time.”

Yoongi almost had a heart attack at Namjoon’s abrupt voice. “Fuck, dude. Why are you sneaking up on me?”

Namjoon’s frowned. He took out a pair of jeans from his bag, pulling them on as he eyed the other rapper. “I’ve been out here for a few minutes. What’s got you so lost?”

Yoongi didn’t answer. He wasn’t lost, he was on the verge of a full blown panic attack at even the minuscule possibility of a stupid teenage mistake coming full circle to end his life as he knows it. 

“Hyung.” Namjoon came forward, now genuinely worried, jeans riding low on his shirtless torso. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

Yoongi had only told one person about the time when he’d hit rock bottom in his life. Namjoon was not him. 

“Can you get Jin hyung for me, Namjoon-ah?”, he asked, his words clear and coherent despite the chaos inside his mind. 

The leader didn’t question it, just got up to do as asked, plucking out a shirt along the way. 

A few minutes later, Jin poked his head inside, immediately entering and closing door at Yoongi’s pensive countenance. He raised a brow at the younger.

Yoongi held out his phone. 

Jin took it, seating himself on the bed as well. 

A few beats passed. 

Jin exploded. “What the hell?! Yoongi?! Is this saying what I think it’s saying?!”

Yoongi ran a tired hand down his face. “ I gave them their money back. Explicitly told them I wanted my sperm thrown in the trash.” The anger which had been slowly simmering, now bubbles to the surface. “What the fuck is this, hyung? I don’t even recognise the name of the clinic. What the fuck did they do with it?”

Jin bit his lip, confused. “What was the name of the place you donated to?”

“I don’t even remember, but it definitely wasn’t that. I should have known they were shady as fuck when they refused to return my sample.”

Jin was surprised. “Yeah, that should have raised several red flags, Yoongi.”

“I was eighteen.”, Yoongi growled. “I was stupid as fuck. Shit, I agreed to donate sperm because my bank balance was riding the negatives, what does that tell you?”

“That you were desperate.”, Jin shrugged. 

“Yes but not knowingly-having-a-kid-out-in-the-world desperate!”, Yoongi was freaking out. “I realised I didn’t have the moral consonance to have a kid I didn’t know and have estranged parents I despised at the same time. It was a stupid drunken whim, which I regretted the minute after and it has been one of the most shameful moments of my life since.”

“Wait.”, Jin scowled. “You were drunk when you donated and they let you?”

Yoongi sniffed. “I was tipsy, yeah. I needed liquid courage to go through with it.”

“That isn’t just red flags, Yoongi, thats red blaring fucking sirens. What kinda third rate, illicit place did you donate to?”

There was a knock on the door before Taehyung pushed it open. Behind him, the rest of the members looked ready to leave. 

Sejin also came into view, frowning at Yoongi. 

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

Jin and Yoongi exchanged a glance. Here goes fucking nothing.

~•~•~

“What a fucking liar.”

Yoongi’s glazed eyes drifted over to his roommate, Jaehyun.

“Who?”

He didn’t particularly want to know, but if he didn’t give Jaehyun some sort of verbal response he would likely keep pestering him about “liars who lied about lying”. 

The blonde man took a deep inhale from his cigarette, blowing the smoke towards Yoongi. “That lying rat, Hyungwon. Did you see him strut in here decked head to toe in designer shit I can’t even pronounce the name of.”

Slowly, Yoongi turned around on his barstool, scanning the packed club with lazy eyes. He spotted Hyungwon among a gaggle of scantily clad girls feeling up his biceps.

Yoongi squinted. “Hyungwon? Wasn’t he asking you to set up a gig for him last month?”

“Asking? No, the bastard was begging.”, Jaehyun sneered. “Said he didn’t even have enough for his next meal. Now, look at him. The lying fucker.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Don’t tell me you actually took pity on him.”

“He was pretty fucking convincing.” Jaehyung signaled for two shots, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray atop the bar. “I even introduced him to our underground regulars, told them to give him a chance.”

“Is he any good?”

Jaehyun snorted. “Raps like a bubblegum pop princess.”

Laughing, Yoongi glanced back at the man in question, doing a double-take when he saw Hyungwon making his way towards them. “Ah shit. He’s coming here.”

Jaehyun blanched. “Hide me, quick.”

Too late.

“Hey, guys!”

Hyungwon hopped on the empty stool beside Yoongi, ordering a whiskey on the rocks, before turning towards the two men. “How have you been doing, Jay-T?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little. “And you, Gloss?”

Yoongi threw up in his mouth a little. 

Jaehyun groaned. “I told you not to call me that if I’m not on stage.”

Hyungwon grinned. 

Yoongi perused his attire. A gaudy jacket with square prints made up of the letter F, leather jeans that didn’t look like it came from a discount store where Yoongi got his from, ugly spiky sneakers with red soles. Although the outfit was hideous, he did seem to appear loaded all of a sudden. Usually, Yoongi wasn’t one to pry, but this bastard made him uncomfortable so he guessed he could return the favour. 

“Weren’t you broke last month? Did you rob a bank or something?”

Hyungwon smirked. “Nothing that extreme. I just happened to get lucky overnight.”

“So you won a couple games of poker, then?”, Jaehyun questioned. 

“Nah. Not that kind of luck.”

Both Yoongi and Jaehyun stared at him expectantly. The smug fucker just laughed.

“I paid off all my back rent, plus two months advance. Got presents for my three girlfriends and made the first deposit on my Royal Enfield.”

“You wanna rub it in?” Jaehyun scowled, his middle finger saluting him as he picked up his shot and downed it. 

“Jaehyun helped set up your first gig.” Yoongi guilt-tripped. Normally he wouldn’t care about some random fucker’s get-rich-quick schemes but these were desperate circumstances. “You owe him.”

The bartender brought Hyungwon’s drink. He paid for it in cash, noticing for the first time that Yoongi was neither drinking nor smoking. “Ah, why don’t you just admit it out loud? You need money. Can’t even afford a drink, can you?”

Yoongi flushed, squirming in his seat. 

Hyungwon raised a brow, feigning surprise. “Aren’t you one of the best underground rappers out there? The next big star?”, he snickered. “Dreams not quite panning out?”

“Shut up, loser.”, Jaehyun snapped. “He’s got a big audition coming up in a few months. When he gets in, we’ll see who’s laughing.”

“With what company? SM, YG?”

Jaehyun grit his teeth to stop himself from strangling the man. “Bighit.”

“Never even heard of it.”

Yoongi cut in, not liking the two men talking about him as if he wasn’t there. “Not your concern. Just tell us how you made so much in a month.” 

Hyungwon took a small sip of the whiskey, swallowing leisurely. He eyed the two men down as if they didn’t quite hold up to whatever judgments he was imparting in his mind. “It doesn’t matter anyway, you both are a bunch of pussies. 

Jaehyun, infamous for his short temper, bristled. “What the fuck did you say, you cumstain?”

Yoongi held his arm, halting him before he stood up. 

If they had put up with the asshole for so long, he was going to damn well make sure they got something out of it. Besides, he NEEDED to know how to get some quick cash. Jaehyun wasn’t aware of the extent of Yoongi’s destitution. What little money he made doing odd jobs and occasional gigs went to school fees and rent, whatever was leftover, if anything, went towards his music. Pretty soon even his daily diet of ramen was gonna go out of his budget. 

“What do you mean a bunch of pussies? Are you selling your organs or something?”, Yoongi pressed.

Hyungwon snorted. “Close enough.”

Okay. Yoongi wasn’t that desperate. “What the fuck, dude!”

Jaehyun’s eyes went wide and sorrowful. A complete 180 from his ire two minutes ago. “Bro. You don’t have to do that, there are always other options. Selling your body isn’t the answer. Let me set up something for you, spare your kidneys, please—

“Shut up.” Hyungwon scowled. “I’m not selling my internal organs.”

Yoongi was confused. “What are you selling then?”

Hyungwon took an unconcerned sip. “My sperm.”

Yoongi was shocked into silence, while Jaehyun scrunched up his face like he’d just tasted the sourest lemon. “That’s equally as fucked up.”

“It’s not. It’s just cum.”, Hyungwon defended. “I’m getting paid handsomely to cum in a plastic cup. If that’s not the easiest money, I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah and that cum is probably in some middle-aged woman’s oven, baking your fucking babies.”

Hyungwon shrugged, not in the least bit concerned. “They’re not mine. Biologically maybe, but I got nothing to do with them apart from that. I’m not an idiot, I read all the terms and clauses. Legally, I’m not gonna be a father until I fuck a baby into someone.”

Jaehyun shook his head, not convinced. “That’s still fucked up.”

“Whatever.” Hyungwon rolled his eyes, finishing his drink. “As I said, a bunch of fucking pussies.”

Yoongi was in deep thought as he listened to the two argue intently. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing out his opinion, “That’s gonna be on your head forever, always at the back of your mind. That you’ve got kids out there who don’t even know you exist.”

“They’re not my kids.”, Hyungwon reiterated, done with the conversation as he spotted a busty bottle blonde leaning across the bar seductively. “Now if you pussies are done, I gotta go dole out my thousand dollar cum for free tonight. Charity turns me on.”

Jaehyun watched him approach the blonde with a grimace. “What a sleazy asshole.”

“He is.”, Yoongi agreed. “But I hadn’t ever thought you could make so much selling semen.”

“I don’t think the government recognised sperm banks offer so much. He must be going to some back alley place.”

Yoongi hummed. “Must be.”

A month after the encounter with Hyungwon at the club, Yoongi had never felt more downtrodden in his life. If he had sinned in his previous life, karma was working overtime. His pity party had been going on for a week now. Right from when he’d been kicked out of his apartment for nonpayment of three months’ rent, to when he’d turned up at his usual hangout with the underground scene just to find out his upcoming gigs had been given to a new rapper he hadn’t even heard the name of, to his bank calling him for payment of pending bills, to here. In a line with the homeless for some free food at a soup kitchen and shelter. 

When he’d left home to chase his dreams, he’d never imagined that the road would be easy. He’d been prepared for ups and downs. But these weren’t just downs, these were never ending canyons that seemed to stretch on forever. He’d long since sold the music equipment he’d bought with his hard earned money to pay for school. With graduation so close, he hadn’t wanted to be expelled on top of being homeless. Jaehyun had offered to pay either his rent or tuition but Yoongi knew the guy was barely hanging on by a thread himself. He couldn’t ask for money from someone who barely had any to spare. 

He heaved a sigh when the line finally moved. The woman in front of him, who looked like she’d been on crack for decades, gave him a glare for the impatient noise. He wanted to flip her off. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday when the kind acquaintance who’s sofa he’d been crashing on had offered him a sandwich. Moreover, in about half an hour he had an interview with a pizzeria for a delivery guy position. He didn’t wanna pass out in front of his potential employers, his ticket out of homelessness. But if this line didn’t hurry up, he’d have to forego a meal, he didn’t want to be late. 

Which was exactly what happened. Twenty minutes and the line barely moved a few feet, the bored volunteers taking their time serving the cold soup and stale bread. 

After a few more minutes Yoongi cursed, his old wristwatch told him it was 3:56 pm. If he didn’t hightail it out of there he could kiss the job goodbye. 

Fuck it.

Breaking the line, he sprinted out. The pizzeria was just two blocks away, he could make it in time if he ran. He didn’t have the money to catch a taxi anyway. And if he jaywalked a little, he could even have a few minutes to spare to change into the button down in his backpack. It was just a delivery position, but for him everything depended on it. He wanted to make a good impression. 

And jaywalked he did. Right into the bumper of a speeding car. 

The first few seconds, the lights were knocked out of him. When he came to, he did a mental survey of his body as he lay there on the pavement, a crowd forming around him. He didn’t feel any wetness, no blood then. Not a lot of excruciating pain either. Could it be that his stupidity had been spared or was he in hell already?

The murmurs of the crowd registered. A kind elderly man’s voice spoke somewhere above him. “Young man, are you okay? The ambulance is on its way. We don’t wanna touch you in case anything’s broken.”

Ambulance.

A sudden electricity zinged through his body, and Yoongi sat up, flinching when his shoulder screamed. There’s the pain.

“No ambulance.”, he grit out. He couldn’t have medical bills on top of everything right now. 

As he reached up to push back the hair in his eyes, his watch gleamed. 4:09pm.

His shoulders sagged in defeat. 

That night he sat with Jaehyun in his former apartment, drinking cheap soju his friend had scrapped together for him somehow. He’d told himself he deserved it after the day he’d had. Hell, the week he’d had. But somewhere inside him was a feeling of self loathing for wasting precious seconds not actively seeking to remedy his situation and stop relying on others. 

Jaehyun had picked him up that afternoon when he’d refused any medical help. So now his arm was in a makeshift sling, painkillers and alcohol doing the job doctors were supposed to. He was pretty sure he’d torn a ligament or something. He didn’t know, he slept through all his biology classes. 

On top of it all, it was his birthday tomorrow. He was turning 18, a legal adult. Not that it mattered, he’d been on his own since 15. Why did his life feel like it was ending when it had barely just begun?

“What if I do it?”, he hypothesised out of the blue. “Its gonna be quick and I just need to forget afterwards.”

Jaehyun frowned. “What are you talking about, my man?”

“Sperm donation.”

Jaehyun choked on his drink. “Yoongi! No, what the fuck!”

“Why not?”, Yoongi asked, his mind working overtime to justify something he’d never thought he’d need to. It was a given. “Its not like anybody would know. Well apart from you and me.”

“That’s not the point. You wanna have kids so young?”

Yoongi scowled into his glass. “I’m not the one who’s going to be having them.”

“Look, man. I think its just the alcohol talking—

“I’m not drunk.”

“—but I’m not gonna stop you if you think this is the only way out. Just know that you’re gonna regret it later.”

“Later.”, Yoongi muttered softly. “How I wish it’d be later already.”

Later that night, he dialed Hyungwon.

~•~•~

“Jaehyun was right. I regretted it the second the hangover dissipated. That was one of the worst days of my life, not counting the string of shit shows preceding it. I rushed back to the place as soon as I could. I returned the money, I hadn’t even taken it out of the envelope. They said the sample couldn’t be returned to me, but they’ll make sure it was out of the system.”

“Well, they lied.”, Sejin deadpanned, eyes narrowed as if figuring out a thousand ways around this situation already. 

The rest of the boys, barring Seokjin, stared at Yoongi in awe. They sat around him on the living room couches, while he stood by the window, gazing at the Parisian skyline.

A far cry from the broken pavement, busted in windows and dilapidated buildings, the landscape of his late teens. 

The boys had known the rapper had struggled a lot before joining bighit, but for it to be laid out in so much detail. A new respect for him shone in their eyes. 

When Yoongi turned to face them, he was surprised to see no judgment on their faces, but he shouldn’t have been. 

“So,”, Jin straightened up, clapping his hands. “Let’s lay this down, shall we? Yoongi donated sperm to a shady place in 2011, but returned the money and demanded it not be used. Since this sperm bank was likely illegal in the first place, they didn’t care to actually go through with his request. Then it somehow ended up in the fertility clinic he got the mail from. Which leads us to now, according to the mail, someone is probably pregnant with Yoongi’s child.”

“No, don’t say that.”, Yoongi shook his head, refusing to come to the obvious conclusion. “Don’t even imply it. I don’t have a kid out there but I do want all traces of my sperm out of any kind of bank.”

Namjoon peered at Yoongi with sympathy. “Hyung, they’re saying you’re eligible for another donation. Your previous sample was used already. According to my guesstimates, there’s 50% chance the woman they put it in, is pregnant.”

“Fuck your guesstimates.”

Jeongguk scratched his head. “But it’s been years since Hyung was 18. How is it getting used just now?”

Sejin answered him, not glancing up from his phone. “Google says preserved sperm can be used for upto 20 years after donation.”

Yoongi cursed. 

Jeongguk was still confused, brows scrunched. “How? Won’t the baby be—“

“Don’t say it.”, Yoongi groaned.

“—20 years old then?”

A slap to the back of the youngest’s head sounded. Yoongi didn’t look to see who’d done the public service.

“What are you going to do, hyung?”, Jimin asked worriedly. “You could just let it be. Ignorance is bliss and all.”

Taehyung gasped in outrage. “How can you even suggest such a thing, Jimin? It’s his kid we’re talking about! He could be a parent!”

Yoongi growled. “Don’t say that.”

But Taehyung wasn’t finished with his sermon. “Even if there’s a minuscule chance of this actually being true, it’s his duty to care and provide for his offspring. Even if he or she is unwanted.”

Yoongi gazed at the darkening sky for divine intervention.

“Hold your horses, Taehyung-ah.”, Sejin stood up. “I messaged the magazine studio about a reschedule. The photoshoot will be before the concert tomorrow.”

No one said a word, everyone too preoccupied to be focusing on trifling things like photoshoots.

“As for this problem.”, Sejin continued, giving Yoongi a reassuring look. “Let me handle it. I’ll run a check on the place you mentioned and the fertility clinic. We can’t publicly sue anyone because one, donating to an illegal place would incriminate Yoongi as well and two, we can’t afford to have a word of this get out. But an anonymous tip to the police should do the job.”

“What about...”, Taehyung trailed off, not knowing how to mention the person who might be carrying Yoongi’s child. 

“I’ll pull some strings, find out who it is. First, we need to know if they’re pregnant or not. We’ll go from there.”

Yoongi sighed, nodding. He supposed he could only hope and pray now. 

~•~•~

“I can’t believe it. All your hopes and prayers came true. I’m so happy for you, noona.”

Taeyong gushed as he arranged his Staedtler coloured pencils on your desk, lining them on the upper edge of his sketch book perfectly. The illustrator was obsessive about having all his stationary in perfectly designated places before drawing. 

“It still feels like a dream. When the doctor confirmed it yesterday, I almost passed out.”, you grinned, lovingly flipping through your manuscripts to the scenes you wanted illustrated.

Your friend turned to face you with a pout, his ethereal face glowing from the sunlight streaming through your windows. “You should have taken me with you, noona. I don’t like that you went alone.”

“It’s alright, Ty.”, you addressed him with the nickname he loved so much. On cue, his cheeks flushed adorably. “I was fine, just jittery with excitement.”

Taeyong grinned, mischief in his eyes. His boyish youthfulness struck you and not for the first time you thought about basing a playful character on him. He was a college student, an art major. You hired him because you loved his whimsical sketching style and his watercolour realism. Also, because you didn’t have the money or the patience to get more “professional” artists. From your previous experience, they often turned their noses at any extra input from the author. Taeyong, on the other hand, loved to have you by his side as he set about bringing your characters to life. 

Most importantly, you hired him because he was kind of your muse, though you never let him know that. He teased you enough as it is.

“I will let you off the hook if you declare me his or her godfather.”

And you loved to tease him back.

“You’re 19 years old, you’re a kid yourself, Ty.” You giggled as he flew off into an outraged rant. 

“Noona, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not a kid! You’re not that much older than me, I don’t know why you gotta put on motherly airs already. It’s been a day since you found out you’re pregnant. Pump the breaks. And don’t you dare try to experiment your parenting skills on me, I’m warning you—“

The ringing of your phone from your bedside table cut him off. You stretched to reach for it, still guffawing lightly at your friend. 

It was an unknown number. You picked it up. 

“Hello.”

A man’s voice answered you. “Hello, is this __?”

“Speaking.”

“Good afternoon, Miss.__. I’m Park Beomgyu from Tangent Publications. You might have heard of us. We are a graphic novel and manhwa publishing company, but we’re starting to venture into children’s fiction as well. Your work has caught our attention and we’d like to partner up with you for your next project. That is, if you’re interested.”

You stared wide eyed at Taeyong, who was starting to look worried at your dumbstruck expression. 

Work had never come to your doorstep. You’d always had to go chasing for it.

“Miss, are you there?”

“Y-yes! I’m here. And yes, I accept.”

The man chuckled. “Not so fast, Miss. Let’s discuss it first. If you’re free tomorrow morning, can I set up a meeting with our editor at 10 am?”

You spoke before he could properly finish. “Yeah, totally. I’m free. Just let me know the address.”

“I’ll message it. Looking forward to meeting you.”

“Yeah, same here.”, you said lamely as he hung up, your heart beating crazily in your chest.

“Who was it?”, Taeyong questioned, coming to sit beside you.

You launched yourself at him with a squeal.

~•~•~

You weren’t surprised when the address led you to Gangnam’s busiest area, office buildings and corporate suits abound. Though you did feel nervous in your light blue tea-length chequered dress. You didn’t own any suits or even pencil skirts, always feeling a little insecure with figure-hugging attire. 

You had done your research last night, having never heard of Tangent Publications before. Sprawled on your couch with your all-time favourite animation, Finding Nemo playing on your tv in the background, you had set up your laptop on a cushion. Not perching it on your stomach like you usually did, paranoid about harmful rays reaching your baby. 

You were surprised at the search results. As the man on the phone mentioned, they did only publish manhwas and even webtoons, but these were about idols. Their most widely sold comics being about BTS’ concept storylines. 

A little further digging revealed that the company was partially owned by Bighit entertainment and STIC investments, which also had stakes in the entertainment sector. 

What mattered to you was that they were successful, which looking at their net profit, they were and they had good editors, which your searches confirmed.

You were feeling extremely lucky and happy that they chose you for their next venture. At the right time too, the first installment in your new series was almost done. 

The friendly receptionist greeted you with a smile, immediately telling you the right floor when you gave her your name. You checked your appearance in the elevator mirror, making sure there was no food stuck in your teeth or wrinkle in your dress. 

You alighted on the eighth floor, where another lady at the front pointed you to the right door. You knocked at exactly 10 am, feeling satisfied at your timing. 

The heavy oak door opened, startling you. You thought someone would call you in. 

A tall man in glasses smiled at you, opening the door wide. You stepped in as he introduced himself. 

“Good morning,__-ssi. My name is Sejin.”

“Oh, good morning.” Not the editor google mentioned, but of course, there would be others in a big publishing company. “Are you one of the editors?”

Sejin closed the door, motioning you to the seat in front of his desk, answering you only when you both had sat down. “Yeah.”

You smiled. “Thank you so much for offering me this opportunity. I’m so flattered you chose me for your first foray into children’s literature.”

“Your work speaks for you, __-ssi. You’re incredibly talented.”, Sejin praised, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table and interlace his fingers. You interpreted the body language easily, he was all business. 

“We’d like to offer you a 5 book deal. A complete series if you will. You can negotiate for more if you feel like 5 won’t be enough. We will leave the story’s concept, art and every other creative decision to you, except of course the editing and research help you’d require. As well as get you the illustrator of your choice.”

“I already have an illustrator, I’d like to retain him.”, you interjected though everything he said left you reeling. Was this a daydream?

Sejin nodded. “No problem. As a starting point, we’d like to offer you 100 million won per book, negotiable down the line and not including sales profits.”

Your jaw dropped. “Is this a prank?” You turned in your chair, looking for cameras. “Am I being pranked? If so, I don’t appreciate it.”

Sejin gave you a calm smile. “No, ma’am. You are not being pranked. You heard me correctly. 100 million won per book, not including profits.”

You laughed. A disbelieving sound. “I’m sorry but either you don’t know how to do business or you’re really sure these books are gonna sell like hot cakes. And although I do think I’m really good at what I do, children’s literature is no fantasy or science fiction. It doesn’t have a fanbase readership to buoy every new installment that comes out. I have learned this the hard way.”

“You didn’t have us before. With the right marketing, anything can sell well.”, he simply replied, dismissing your concerns. 

“Okay.”, you took a deep breath, a sudden pressure on your shoulders, something nagging at your brain you were too preoccupied to figure out. “I’d like to see the contract first.”

“Sure.” Sejin produced a thick document from the desk drawer, flipping through it as he casually spoke. “You can take it home, mull it over, take your time coming to a decision. You’re pregnant, so I wouldn’t like to keep you here for long.”

You froze, blood leaving your face. 

“What did you say?”, you whispered.

Calmly, Sejin looked up from the papers, briefly glancing behind you before meeting your eyes. He didn’t repeat himself, showing absolutely no reaction.

Goosebumps raised on your arms, your voice fearful as you asked, “How did you know that I’m having a baby?”

“Because it’s mine.”

Jumping out of the chair in fright, you spun around. 

A stunningly attractive and familiar face was leaning against the closed door. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in. 

Glancing back at Sejin, who’d stood up as well, you slowly extricated yourself from the tangle of chair legs, moving to the middle of the room to have direct access to the door, but the newcomer was blocking your exit. 

Sejin approached him, whispering something you couldn’t hear. The man nodded, not breaking the critical gaze with which he regarded you. 

He let Sejin leave, locking the door behind him. 

“Is there a reason why I’m alone in a room with you? I will bring this whole building down with my screams if you don’t unlock that door and step away from it right now!”, you threatened.

He rolled his eyes. “The room’s soundproof.”

“You—”, you paused your scathing diatribe before it had even begun, cogs whirring, memory catching up. “You’re Min Yoongi.”

“Congratulations.”

Bewilderment swamped you. What the hell was going on? “What do you want from me?

“Absolutely nothing.” Yoongi ambled towards you with indolent grace, his eyes never leaving your befuddled ones. “You have something of mine, unwillingly given.”

“I have never even met you before. I don’t even like your music.”

Maybe that add-on wasn’t necessary, but you were feeling caged and on the defensive. 

Yoongi pursed his lips, his censorious gaze roving up and down your form. “Yeah, we don’t make music for the likes of you.”

You bristled. What the heck did that mean? You didn’t want to ask. “Thanks for sparing me. I still don’t see how I could possibly have anything of yours.”

“You’re pregnant and it’s mine.” 

“I’m pregnant, yes, but what’s yours?”

Yoongi scowled. “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Say what?”

“I’m the father. You’re carrying..”, he seemed reluctant to continue but did, scowl deepening. “..my child.”

You faked a laugh, amused but more concerned for the unhinged man in front of you. “No, I’m not. Maybe you have amnesia or something, this is the first time I’m seeing you in person. Usually, your tetchy self only greets me from magazines and subway ads.”

“Don’t try to sound smart.__. You don’t.”, he parried. “The thing with artificial insemination is that the lonely women who get it, often don’t know who’s baby they’re carrying.”

For the second time, you tensed with trepidation. They had entirely too personal information on you. It didn’t make any sense, none of what he was saying did. “Why do you know that?” 

You glared at him when he smirked.

“Ran a background check on you. Single, 27-year-old, children’s fiction writer, who’s been trying for pregnancy at different clinics for a year now. Bank balance is at an all-time low, the previous publisher isn’t picking up any of your new work. A string of failed relationships behind you because of your desire to have a child so early. Most of the time you hang around some college-aged kid who also does artwork for you, apart from that you don’t have many close friends. You stay at—”

“Shut up!”, you fumed, feeling really violated. The nerve of this man. He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered with his words. “You’re a celebrity, aren’t you? Don’t you guys scream privacy at every unsolicited photo, every personal detail revealed to the public? Your hypocrisy is alarming.”

“I will let you know one thing. Guilt is not an emotion I feel. The two situations aren’t even remotely comparable.” He stepped closer, his all-black attire striking against the white of the room. He looked like an irritated bat who’d been disturbed from his hibernation. 

“Don’t interrupt me.”, he commanded. “I had to know what type of person my sperm had been,” he coughed, gaze drifting away for a second. “..used on.”

“Your...?”, you trailed off, still not connecting the dots. What he was implying was preposterous, it couldn’t possibly be that.

It was exactly that. 

His voice was dispassionate when he explained, his countenance inscrutable, he was a master at masking every emotion. “A sample of my semen which was sent for regular health checkups was misplaced by a lab technician, accidentally labeled for donation to a sperm bank. I got to know about it when your fertility clinic sent me an email.”

You swallowed harshly. “They put it in me?”

Yoongi scrunched his nose. “Unfortunately.”

Did he have to sound so repulsed? You stepped back, only speaking when you’d somewhat processed your predicament. 

You gave him a sympathetic frown. Best to go with understanding, you didn’t want a confrontation. It was a delicate situation which, if you wanted to weasel out of, you’d need some tact. 

“That is unfortunate. I’m sure you must feel very frustrated. But I signed very hefty paperwork, before going in for treatment. And it said that the donor would have no legal right over the child, unless there’s a mutual agreement. I’m sorry but I have no obligation towards you and this is my child only.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to the hand you placed on your belly. He bit the inside of his cheek and you had the sneaking suspicion he didn’t give a flying fuck what your obligations were. 

“I’m going to make myself very clear ___. I don’t want your apology. The people responsible for this mess are paying for it, don’t worry. But if you think that I’m gonna roll over politely and let you scamper off with what’s mine, you have another thing coming.”

Your blood boiled and you hurled towards him. He didn’t show any surprise when you poked his hoodie-clad chest angrily.

Fuck tact. 

“I didn’t ask for this, you asshole. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire fucking life and no dickwipe with a huge ego just because he can spit some words is gonna fuck it up for me.”

Yoongi blinked. “You swear too much for a children’s author, no wonder your sales are tanking.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You dug the pointer finger deeper in his chest. 

He winced, clasping your wrist. “Okay, is this the right time to tell you that I was gonna suggest an abortion in exchange for the book deal?”

Panic swamped you, anger disappearing for a huge dose of terror. You clutched the fabric covering your tummy, a clawing need to run and protect your baby blanketing you. No one was going to take him or her away from you, not when you’d toiled your last penny and pinned your every hope on this baby. 

“Hey.” Suddenly Yoongi crowded you, gently grasping your shoulders. “Hey, breathe please.”

His words made you aware of your lungs screaming for air, short, staccato breaths making you lightheaded.

“Breathe in for me.”, he guided and you obeyed, looking into his worried eyes to ground yourself. “And breathe out. Again. Just like that. You’re alright.”

A hand at your back guided you to the chair you’d previously occupied and you flopped down on it gratefully. Yoongi hunched over you, roving his searching eyes over your face for more signs of panic. 

“I was joking. Partially.”, he bit his bottom lip, and strangely you found the action alluring. “I knew someone who worked so hard to reach this point, wouldn’t even entertain the notion.”

You glowered at him, annoyance dimming for surprise when you noted how close he was, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. He didn’t seem to notice it though.

“It’s very highhanded of you to even think about such a thing. No amount of money can replace a life.”

His eyes softened, the first genuine smile from him peeking through. If you didn’t know how much of an asshole he was, you’d think he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

“You’d be surprised how many people would disagree.”

“I’m sure you would.”

He nodded, having no problem admitting it. “Can you blame me? I’m at the peak of my career right now, this has all the makings of my fall from grace. Besides, I didn’t want children, ever.”

“Didn’t?”, you questioned his use of past tense.

He shrugged, straightening up and letting you relax a little from his heady presence. “You gotta roll with the punches.”

You hadn’t unclasped your hand from your dress, the fabric covering your stomach wrinkling horribly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You dreaded it, but what he said wasn’t unexpected.

“I want shared custody.”

Never.

“No.” You brought down the hammer.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I’m not gonna be an absent father, __”

“That’s alright.”, you threw back, absolutely done with this conversation. “You don’t have to be any kind of father.”

Slowly, so gracefully you didn’t even notice it at first, Yoongi hunched back over you, now impossibly closer. You leaned back as far as possible but you could tell two things, that his cologne was expensive and it smelled delicious as fuck. 

“Then who’s gonna be the father?”, he asked quietly. You gulped.

“I- the- I mean no one. Single moms do just fine.” And because he started to move off of you and you were secretly a glutton for punishment, as well as for men who smelled mouth-watering, you added, “My future husband...”

You trailed off at the tick in his jaw.

He raised a brow. “How fucking cute. Too bad your domestic dreams are never coming true,__. What’s mine is mine. No other man is going to be the father of my child. Over my fucking dead body.”

You almost said, “then perish”, but he stood up, grasping your upper arm to help you up as well. He was incredibly gentle with you, a stark contrast to the verbal barbs he inflicted every time he opened his mouth.

For example:

“We’re also going to have to get a DNA test done.”

Before you could implode in his face, he interlocked your fingers with his, tenderly releasing your death grip on your dress. His other hand came up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear and hook your chin up.

You were blindsided. Rage and fluttering heart palpitations a weird combo. 

“Don’t lose a fuse over it now. I think you’ve got enough on your mind already. Go home, sleep it off, we’ll talk when you’re feeling more level headed.”

It really shouldn’t have surprised you that he’d turn this into some sort of reverse psychology “I’m only looking out for you” situation, making you the unreasonable one for feeling, very justifiably, enraged at his imperiousness. 

But you did really want to sleep it off, your newly changing body demanded you recharge from this draining encounter already. You sagged in his arms, letting him support you.

Yoongi smirked at your body’s compliance and you wanted to slap it off. 

“How did you get here? Did you drive?”

You shook your head. “Took the subway, then walked.”

Yoongi peered at the heels on your feet, irritation flaring on his face. “For someone so adamant on having a baby, you’re already putting your health on the line, huh?”

There he fucking goes again. 

“It’s none of your business.”, you said curtly.

He raised a challenging brow. “The baby you’re carrying is my business.”

His high handedness knew no bounds. 

He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call a driver to take you home.”

“No need.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

You grit your teeth, biting your tongue as he led you to the door. Just a few more seconds in his presence, then TO FREEDOM. 

He opened the door.

And three men tumbled inside on top of each other, the momentum making them fall on the floor in a heap. 

You winced.

“What the fuck?!”, Yoongi growled, his resting death scowl back with a vengeance. “Were you three fuckheads eavesdropping?”

The men immediately stood up, fixing their clothing. The one at the bottom of the heap winced when the one above him used him as support. 

You recognised all of them. His bandmates. Although you weren’t their fan, you were still a little starstruck. The cameras didn’t do their faces justice. You shrunk behind Yoongi, a little intimidated at so much testosterone surrounding you. Prime specimen of the male species too. If you weren’t already pregnant, your ovaries would be tingling with primordial urges. 

Then they all spoke at the same time. 

“You wouldn’t let us come with you!” Taehyung.

“It’s all Taehyung’s doing hyung, we just wanted to make sure he didn’t get in any trouble.” Jeongguk.

“We?! What the fuck, don’t include me in your schemes. You guys dragged me here!” Jimin. 

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose and you prepared for another of his already infamous searing rebukes. You wanted popcorn to watch these three guys get thoroughly chastened. 

Taehyung just held up his hand, stopping the elder even before he began. “Calm down, hyung. We’re not here for you.”

Your jaw dropped. He shut Yoongi up with a hand. You wanted to worship at this guy’s shrine. 

Then he peered around Yoongi to look at you, giving you a shy smile. “Hello,__. I’m Taehyung.”

Wow, Yoongi and his bandmates were night and day. This guy reminded you of Winnie The Pooh while Yoongi was Cruella de Vil personified. 

When you didn’t say anything, Taehyung frowned with worry, turning accusing eyes at Yoongi.

“Hyung, you upset her.”

Yes, he did, Pooh.

Yoongi raised an unconcerned brow. “And? Why the fuck are you here again?”

“Would you stop with the swearing, there’s a child in the room.”, Taehyung reprimanded and your worshipful impulses grew. 

Jeongguk scowled.

Jimin nudged him. “Not you, idiot.”

Taehyung came towards you with a placating smile, likely sensing the damage Yoongi had done. “I can drop you home. There’s a really good gelato shop a block from here. If you want we can stop there. Ice cream fixes everything.”

You nodded immediately, letting your guardian angel lead you out of the room with a hand at your back. 

You didn’t spare Yoongi’s disbelieving face another look. 

A/n: Taehyung will make a more proper appearace in the next chapter. Do let me know what you thougt, feeback keeps me writing.

#bts smut #bts imagines #bts fic #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #yoongi angst #taehyung angst #pregnant reader #young x pregnant reader #taehyung x pregnant reader #sperm donation #baby you're bad #Indian readers did you get the shoutouts? #back from hiatus #writing is a little rusty

[staysuki]

Ash I don’t think some of my asks are coming through 😭. Like I sent two a few days ago but I still haven’t seen a response lol. Does this happen often? Is anyone else having this problem? I feel stupid if I send them again and in reality you’ve already seen it pfft.

Omg your getting so many asks I’m so happy for you rn!!! The hype is real. People are really throwing in their thoughts and feeling now, we’re definitely getting the ball rolling to you being tumble famous✨. Not to mention how fun it is to come up with conclusions wrong or right. It’s almost like we’re a jury panel trying to figure out who is guilty. I’m also glad to see you’ve got your mojo back, I know your were procrastinating a bit there at one point. Even so, you must have a lot of energy to keep birthing these fics haha. When I write I have so many crazy ideas, plot hooks and so forth but when I start writing I just get stuck at one point and give up🧍‍♀️.I always get writers block because of my perfectionist heart 💔. In school I was always good at creative writing, once I even got 97 percent on one of my best written pieces but now it feels like a chore for me to create new ones, school ruined it for me I think because I was made to do it. I envy you and your genius, you really are brilliant and I guarantee everyone here agrees 🥰♥️.

Also in 🍕’s ask not that long ago, where they asking me how I’m doing??? I wasn’t sure if it was aimed at me or you haha. Pizza is cute~

~ lovegame anon

what 😭 no, your asks are definitely not going through

i've seen other anons have the same problem before so they usually just resend the ask, dw about thinking it might be doubled! i'd rather have duplicates than not get your asks at all :,)))

AND YES so many asks, maybe that's why it's lagging??? idk, i definitely know some other users who get a lot more asks and theirs seem alright idk 😭 maybe it's just my tumblr? or your tumblr?? ever since the new mobile updates, i've been getting lots of glitches and bugs lately (like the photo issue and the readmore issue)

tumblr famous pLS. i could never. maybe only in stray kids fic tumblr but idk 🤔🤧 i like being here at the back~

thank u for always enjoying my crazy ass messy fics. i swear the next ones won't be as heavy anymore JHSHWJSHE I SWEAR. I PROMISE. I CAN'T SAY IT'LL BE FULFILLED BUT I WILL TRY TO WRITE LIGHTER ONES. i mean, the jeongin smau was really really fluffy tho so i'm just balancing it out 🤷‍♂️. ehaloj is like the neutral fic lmao, it's just slice of life.

but yeah, i've always loved writing ever since i was a kid, sometimes i get burnt out when writing the written chapters so i'm happy that SMAUs are a thing because i can just pump out content without having to like, write tons of paragraphs. and jgejshwjshss the time i was procrastinating was when i was getting ready to fly back to the PH so it was hectic 🤧🙈 got lots of time now though~ hence the new fic hehe BE EXCITED FOR IT. IT'S GONNA BE GOOD, join the fic name event (it's anonymous) if you haven't already!!

and i think that was for you uwu

#anon: lovegame

[that-banana-headed-bovine]

Knight Rider 2000

WARNING

This post contains spoilers for Knight Rider 2000, the 1991 film which attempts to expand on the canonical universe of Knight Rider (1982-1986).  Key word, attempts.  I know that this film came out almost 30 years ago at this point, but I also know that this fandom grows a little bit every day, and there will ALWAYS be people who haven’t seen every episode (myself included), let alone every movie!  I happened to catch it on Charge! for Hoff's birthday (yes I'm hella late posting this LOL) with my good friend @trust-doesnt-oxidize​, and boy let me tell you, it was… Something.

From here on out, I’m not holding back from sharing my impression of the film based on specific details from it, so if you want a spoiler-free viewing, go watch it and come back!!  Or… don’t, it’s kind of awful.  I can only think of one thing in canon that it may spoil, and even that appears in early Season 2 and is fairly minor, so if you are curious about it, I HIGHLY recommend watching it BEFORE reading this.  The scenes with the most impact are touching because they come as a surprise, so even if you know the general plot of the film, I would recommend watching it first.

Also this is really rambley because I have a lot of emotions about this series and, by extension, this movie.  I really don’t blame you if you click away here, but if you DO read it all the way through, I would love to hear anything you would like to add, agree or disagree!

OKAY!  Knight Rider 2000 is a movie that exists!  And I hate it!

The film sets up an interesting argument between two groups of people whose names I don’t remember because they were boring (except for Devon, I know his name at this point).  In this interpretation of the “future,” gun control has been implemented to,,, some extent, I can’t entirely tell if there have been some policies implemented across the country or if it is all localized in this one city that even the Wikipedia page for this movie doesn’t bother to mention.  And no, this city is NOT in California for once!  Usually I would be happy to see a change of setting, but considering that everything in this film felt so foreign to the Knight Rider that we know, it would have been nice to at least have a familiar setting.  Anyway, gun control stuff.  The debate between whether these gun control policies are ethical or not is very interesting.  Innocent people are dying because the wrong people have guns and the police are rendered useless when they themselves don’t have access to weapons.  This argument happens to support my perspective on the issue, so I appreciated how it took a look at that side WITHOUT it sounding like we are crazy murderer people, but I digress.  It makes sense that the ban happened in the first place, because much like how the main conflict in Pixar’s latest film Incredibles 2 revolves around society’s over-reliance on superheroes, I could see Knight Rider’s society becoming dependent on technology to save them.  It can be easy to seem like the most advanced tech in that society is present only in KITT and KIFT, and to SOME extent that is true.  However, Shawn does say that it is relatively common in this society for people to have memory chips in their brain.  That counts for something.  And the police DO have a defense mechanism according to the Wikipedia page for this movie, it’s just nonlethal.

So as you can see, I am very interested in the conflict this world sets up.  I sure hope they expand on these conflicting ideologies throughout the film, giving us a clearer idea of why the bans were set in place AND giving us insight into what exactly has caused some revolt against it.  That subject is seemingly timeless, and with how decently the introduction tackled it, I have some confidence that this film could pull it off in a tasteful way.  Wouldn’t that be amazing?   It’s some of the most serious subject matter Knight Rider has ever tackled.  It’s so interesting!

Yeah they pretty much abandon that plot in place of a very, very bad copy of the original show’s “Hearts of Stone” (season 1, episode 14).  Illegal guns exist and are bad, but we don’t really know why.  I may know a little better if I had been listening closer, but I was trying to not get so bored that I missed Kitt’s parts!

At some point during this sequence, we are introduced to Shawn, a happy police officer who is happy to have a family on a happy birthday.  And then she gets shot!  Due to head force trauma rendering her unconscious, she’s sent to the hospital.  She goes in for a risky operation that miraculously saves her life against all odds.

Then, Michael wakes up with Garthe Knight’s face and hears a great story about how one man CAN make a difference!… I mean what?  

Jokes aside, it’s kind of amazing how much this very Michael-esque sequence comes across very differently.  It’s almost the perfect example of why I don’t like this movie.  The surgery is weirdly realistic for a Knight Rider entity.  There’s blood and screens and surgeons and a sterile white room for operations.  Michael woke up in a Medieval castle with one doctor and two random people he’d never met at his side.  Shawn’s situation clearly makes more sense, but is it half as fun and whimsical?  No, no it’s not.  This whole film comes across as depressing to me, and it’s only worsened by what’s to come.  Apparently, she had KITT’s CPU/Microprocessor/something sciencey implanted into her brain.  That’s especially strange since all that I saw was a yellow liquid being injected directly into her skull!  That’s a lovely image, and definitely gave me the idea that there was a full computer chip going in there???  (It may have actually been explained more clearly, and I just looked away because eek weirdly bloody operation scene)  This caused her personality to do a full 180.  So, Shawn is going to be fun, snarky, and full of personality like KITT is because they share memories now!  Right?  Right???

I think they tried to do that, but it came across flat.  So flat.  She speaks in a purposefully monotone, robotic voice and delivers downright mean comments that leave Michael and KITT scratching their heads.  She seems to lack basic empathy until her own memories start flooding back, and at that point, the emotions she show seem so foreign to the character we see that it’s not remotely believable.  You want me to believe that this robotic woman with -10 personality points started nearly crying after one string of memories, albeit a very traumatic one, entered her mind?  This would have been believable if she was entirely changed afterwards, coming across as far more human, but that was only the case sometimes.  It also would have been believable if the film had the same energy that the original Knight Rider show does, where suspending one’s disbelief is necessary to make it past the opening credits.  However, this movie tries to be so grounded that the kind of dramatic beats that would work in the original seem forced here.

Shawn is not the only character who I take issue with, though.  Let’s start with the most potentially problematic change from the usual canon in the entire film: KITT’s personality.  I have very mixed feelings on how he is portrayed.  If you’ve seen as much as a spattering of quotes from this movie, you probably could sense that KITT was… off.  When KITT first comes on screen, he slams Michael with a wave of insults, and none of them come off as their normal joking around.  However, I don’t necessarily have a problem with that because he has the proper motivation to be very, very upset.  He is sitting on a desk as a heap of loosely connected parts that have just enough power to make the signature red scanner whir and make an oddly terrifying red light eyeball thing (Hal???) move.  The first thing he hears is Devon nonchalantly saying something along the lines of, “I’m afraid he was recycled” to explain why KITT has been deactivated for OVER A DECADE and is not currently in anything that moves (my Charge! stream thing lagged at this point but @trust-doesnt-oxidize​ has since told me that Devon DID appear upset about KITT's being sold, but KITT likely wouldn't have heard that and what Devon said seemed to be moreso directed at HOW the chip was sold and not the fact that it was sold in the first place).  KITT is justifiably mad, and if they had kept KITT’s actions in character while his emotions said otherwise, I would have no problem with it at all.

However, once KITT’s CPU is somehow implanted into Michael’s Chevrolet, KITT does not act in character.  Shawn drives, not Michael, so it stands to reason that he would not necessarily listen to her.  She stole his CPU, his life for over a decade.  KITT does tend to listen to human companions, regardless of whether he is programmed to or not, but I can see where this would be an exception.  However, Michael soon intercedes and essentially tells him to cut it out.  Based on everything that the original Knight Rider told us, KITT no longer has a choice of whether to listen or not.  Michael is ultimately the one who calls the shots because of KITT’s very programming.  And yet, in this scene, KITT doesn’t listen to Michael and apparently gets so angry that he downright stops functioning.  Because that happens all the time in the original series!

And if you’re wondering where I got the conclusion that KITT frustrated his circuits to the point where they could no longer work, he said that.  KITT.  Admitted to having feelings.  In fact, he did not just admit to being angry in the moment.  He told Michael that, while it may seem like he is an emotionless robot, he does have a “feelings chip.”  A FEELINGS CHIP-

I am for recognizing KITT’s obvious emotions as much as the next guy.  I think they are often overlooked when discussing his character.  While I don’t think that real artificial intelligence will ever reach the level of human consciousness, the entire energy of Knight Rider comes from playing with this concept by portraying an AI character who clearly emotes interacting with a human who doesn’t seem to know that.  But the thing that makes this show feel so sincere is that neither character plays too heavily into that trope.  While not always knowing how much KITT feels and by extension hurting those feelings alarmingly often, Michael recognizes it enough to work in concert with KITT, apologize for his more major flubs, and consider KITT a friend.  And KITT subverts the trope by never recognizing that he has feelings to begin with.  He will say that he cannot feel sadness but, in the next breath, say that something upset him.  He will say he cannot hold a grudge only to immediately rattle off a string of insults directed at the person he clearly has a grudge on.  The show is magic in how these two characters display a subtle chemistry that always has room to grow because both characters are slowly coming to see each other for who they truly are and supporting one another along the way.  From what I can tell, the original show never fully concludes that arc, and it may even start regressing after Season 1.  However, we can feasibly see how Michael could slowly come to understand that KITT really does feel things just as much as he does.  And we can imagine the relief KITT would feel knowing that Michael was never bothered by that possibility.

So, you can see where I have a big problem with KITT spelling it out so plainly.  The audience gets full confirmation about what has been displayed to us through nuanced hints throughout the series, which sounds a lot more satisfying than it really ends up being in this film.  But worse than an underwhelming conclusion to a thrilling story, Michael knows it plain as day.  There is very little buildup to KITT admitting this.  He barely even sounds moved.  Instead, in this movie, the “feelings chip” is a fact of life that does not need to be covered up in the slightest.  Michael himself doesn’t really… react.  He just kind of nods along, as if he’s saying, “Huh, makes sense, alright.”  After everything these two have been through, if there really was such a simple explanation for why KITT is the way he is… why arguments went south, why the mere mention of a Chevrolet was enough to get a seemingly jealous response, why inconsequential things like music taste and gambling were subjects of debate, why KITT had always acted so exaggeratedly dismissive when topics of emotional significance struck a chord, why every little sarcastic banter had a hint of happiness until it didn’t… don’t you think Michael would do something?  Whether that something would be a gentle, “I always knew that, pal”; a shocked, “Why didn’tchya tell me sooner?!”; or even a sarcastic, disbelieving, “Yeah, right” is up to interpretation.  But there would be something.

And yet, even that concept is flawed.  We learn a lot from KARR’s inclusion in the original series, and what I take away from it boils down to a simple sentiment.  FLAG never meant for their AIs to be human.  I do realize that directly contradicts what Devon says within this film, but I see that as another way for the film to steer the plot in this direction, not as a tie in to the original.  When Wilton says that one man CAN make a difference, he means that.  He isn’t considering that KITT is just as much a person as Michael.  He’s not seeing that, at the end of the day, teamwork is what makes the show work, even if Michael is the glue that holds it together.  So, I think that to say that there is a “feelings chip” is to disregard the entire point of the original, that in this world life finds a way of inserting itself and that KITT’s (and KARR’s for that matter) humanity is an anomaly, not the rule.  At the end of the day, KITT’s humanity can’t be explained away with science.  And really, I don’t think it should be explained away at all.  The show has had an amazing trend of showing us how KITT feels, in all its unorthodox glory, alongside private moments that had me sobbing like a baby.  The movie should just be like a longer, more complex episode of Knight Rider… Although I cannot pinpoint exactly how it should be done in the context of this film, I know there are ways that Michael could have been shown that KITT feels rather than being told.

One last complaint, albeit a more minor one, is the idea that he has to listen to what Shawn says over Michael's authority.  I have spent a decent amount of time thinking about this one point, which has caused a lot of the delay in posting this.  There's multiple reasons why this flies right in the face of what is canon in the original series.  Perhaps the most obvious of these problems is the fact that, in the original pilot episode, it's made very clear that KITT can't assume control of the Knight 2000 without Michael's express permission unless Michael is unconcious.  Devon makes it quite clear in this episode that KITT is programmed specifically to listen to Michael, not just anyone who happens to be piloting the vehicle at the time.  In case there was any doubt about this, KITT ejects two people who are attempting to steal him later in the episode (well, ok, later in the two-parter, I don't know if it was the same episode or not).  The show isn't SUPER strict about this in future episodes, but it does at least acknowledge Michael's authority in a few pivotal moments throughout Season 1 (I can't comment on episodes that I haven't seen yet, but I suspect that this pattern continues).  Of all the rules set up throughout the series, it actually seems to be the most loyal to this one.  One moment that stands out to me is in Trust Doesn't Rust when KITT attempts to stop Michael from causing a head-on collision with KARR, but Michael then overrides him and the climax unfolds.  If one of the most iconic moments in the series is caused by this one bit of programming, to throw it out in the film is to disrespect the basis of the original series.

Speaking of KARR, he provides yet another reason niglecting this detail is such a big problem.  From what we can tell, KARR isn't programmed to one specific driver (at least, not anymore[?]), and so he can override anyone in the pilot's seat.  This is something they seem to highlight in TDR as well, although not so plainly as the previous point.  KARR ends up ditching Tony to gain speed and get an upper hand in the chase with Michael and KITT (although a scene they deleted would have made this a mUCH MORE SENSIBLE ACTION THAT R E A L L Y ISN'T A BETRAYAL but y'know what this post isn't about that) whereas KITT has to listen to Michael even to his own detriment.  If this one feature is indeed one of the major things that separates KITT from KARR, the idea that Shawn can override all of that cheapens the original conflict between KITT and KARR.

...Well okay, let's be real, KARR was never that compelling as an antagonist to begin with because he's a LOYAL SWEETIEPIE-- I'll stop.

And finally, we have the biggest, most bizarre reason that this is a problem:

If Shawn can override Michael's authority, that means KITT can override Michael's authority.

Why?  This would be the first time (outside of episodes where some sort of reprogramming or mind control was involved) in the series that KITT had not only listened to another human instead of Michael, but also listened to that person OVER Michael.  The only difference I can see between Shawn and quite literally anyone else in the show's history is that Shawn has KITT's chip implant thing.  If that's the reason her opinion has more credence than Michael's, then wouldn't that mean KITT's own opinion has that authority?  If that is the case, literally every example I've gone through in the last couple of paragraphs is not just challenged but rather negated entirely.

The most frustrating thing about this scene is that it simply didn't have to happen.  Michael could have gone along with KITT's plan, showing him (and us) that he does trust his former partner even after all these years.  Shawn could have convinced Michael to go along with it using her... feelings chip.  Blegh.  Or we could have had a stubborn Michael force this scene to be delayed, likely improving the pacing overall.  Maybe we could have even seen a frustrated and emotionally exhausted Shawn wait until Michael is not in the car and then plead KITT to give her the truth, no matter what Michael says.  We have seen KITT control his actions without Michael's input plenty of times, and we could have seen some more of his humanity show through if he could relate to Shawn's struggles... after all, he too has missing memories because she has his chip.  They're both going through a bit of an identity crisis.  I'm sure that he could find some workaround in his programming to help her if Michael wasn't there insisting that he does not take this course of action.

But even after all of that fussing over what has been done wrong with KITT, I can’t deny that he is the heart and soul of this film.  There was only one scene in this film that brought me near tears.  I got more of an emotional impact from this one clip than I have from a lot of movies that are undeniably much better.  Michael’s old-fashioned Chevrolet does not hold up in the year 2000, and it is clear that the usual car chase sequence won’t work as police vehicles quickly creep up on them.  I was personally very curious what they would do here.  I figured that KITT would find some way to outsmart the drivers of the police cars, maybe by ending up on an elevated mountain road that trips up the other drivers and causes them to waste time turning around and hopping on that same path.  Or, maybe, KITT would access a road that’s too narrow for the relatively bulky police cars.  However, it quickly becomes clear that this city is made up of wide roads on the ground.  As KITT veers off the road and tells Michael to trust him, the I found myself having to trust him.  This isn’t the way Knight Rider chases usually go, and with all these odds stacked against him, the only thing we can do is hold our breath.  The way this scene is staged to send us into this just as blind as Michael is, frankly, genius.  Water slowly creeps into the frame as a feeling of dread builds at the thought of what KITT might do.

Surely, we are led to think, he will knock into some boxes and turn right back around.  Right?  We’re reminded of the fact that this is not the Knight 2000, that there is no chance of this car floating.  That if KITT does what he really seems to be doing, there’s no chance… but he wouldn’t, would he?  This is the only action sequence in the film that had me at the edge of my seat, staring wide eyed at the screen.  And then, the turn that you want so badly to come doesn’t, and you have to wonder what’s about to happen.  What was KITT thinking?  Won’t Michael and Shawn drown?  And, most prominently in my mind, won’t KITT drown?

For a moment, this scene plays us into believing that, because magic FLAG science that is pretty par for the course, everything is fine.  KITT explains that they have an airtight cab and over 20 minutes of oxygen.  Everyone lets out a collective breath of relief.  We see it in Michael and Shawn, and I know I felt myself relax.

And then there’s a flicker in the screen, and that pit in the bottom of my stomach came right back.  Michael is confused, and KITT explains what we should have realized was inevitable.  This is KITT sacrificing himself.  He even goes as far as to let Shawn know that she can use any of his computer chips that she may need.  This comes off as strange at first, but it goes to show that KITT is, at his core, the same kind soul we always knew.  He acts angry because he feels betrayed, but given the choice, he will chose another person’s life over his own, always.  Even the microprocessor that he is most frustrated over, the thing that seems to drive a wedge between him and Shawn, is just how he is expressing his hurt.  Now, thinking it is the end, he offers it up freely, and Shawn doesn’t seem to know how to respond.  KITT is calm as he says his final goodbyes.  And this is the first place in the film that we get to hear the amazingly nuanced  voice acting that William Daniels is so great at.  KITT sounds collected and at peace with what is to come, but there are also subtle hints that he is at least a bit nervous, a bit sad.  “I know.  I guess this is goodbye.”  He doesn’t want to leave his friends, but he knows that he has to for them to be safe.  Even if the pacing of the film seems to actively try to undermine this moment, it stands out to me as an amazing scene, even if the reaction from Michael is underwhelming at best and the reaction from Shawn is… as much as can be expected from Shawn, but that’s not saying much.  As far as KITT knows in that moment, these are his last words: “Michael, take care of yourself.”  Down to the last moment, Michael is everything to him.

IjustwannamakeitclearquicklythatIthinktheirrelationshipisentirelyplatonicokthankyou

And I felt sad, big time sad.  The movie up until that point was unbelievably boring to me, and this wasn’t a turning point where the movie suddenly became great.  It was a moment so darn good that I almost don’t think the movie deserved for it to have as big of an impact as it did.  But that shows just how powerful this universe is, how wonderfully honest these characters are.  Even after being butchered practically beyond recognition, one scene in-character can still bring you to tears because you have connected with them so deeply throughout the TV series.

AND THEN DEVON DIED IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS :D

I don’t like Devon.

Devon was actually more tolerable in this movie than normal, and I can see where people who don’t hate him could be sad that he died  I just,,, he has hurt or talked down to KITT and KARR so many times that I actually could not sympathize.  What’s even more frustrating about that is that Devon’s death is the one that Michael got all sad over when KITT sacrificed his life for him and Devon got kidnapped randomly but okay go off movie you can’t ruin that scene for me.  I knew going in that Devon died, but I was expecting them to spend a lot more time setting it up and making it as dramatic as possible.  Nope, he just got a shot to the old air tanks I guess?  My view of it is nothing more than that it’s a thing that happened.

OH AND DEVON DID PULL ONE HEINOUS ACT.  He said that KIFT was better than KITT in every way other than that KITT has humanity.  SINCE WHEN HAS DEVON GIVEN ONE SINGULAR HOOT ABOUT THE AI’S BEING ALIVE???  TELL KARR THAT???  HECK, TELL DEACTIVATED KITT THAT YOU WERE JUST FINE SELLING OFF AT AUCTION THAT?!?!  Also also, KIFT DOES NOT C O M P A R E TO KITT.  We are coming back to KIFT in a moment, don’t you worry.  For now, I just.  Low blow, Devon, low blow.

Michael was fine too, he played a weirdly small part and that felt off but everything he said seemed pretty in character.  The most out of character parts were when he said nothing at all.  OH AND WHERE HE WAS REPLACING BONNIE but that’s besides the point, no Bonnie OR April… no Bonnie OR April… I’m fine…

…

It feels like this movie wants you to forget that Michael exists because Shawn is here she’s more interesting, right?  Right???

She’s really not.

So back to KIFT.  My favorite part of KIFT is that pronouncing KIFT in your head sounds funny.  It’s like “gift” but if the gift were actually an underwhelming villain of sorts that is overtaken in a garage, parked, by Michael either removing his microprocessor entirely or moving it to a Chevrolet.

I was surprised how not bad KIFT looked.  I had seen stills from the movie that looked really uninteresting compared to the regular designs, and while I still agree to some extent, it was a lot more epic than I would have thought.  Something about how the paint shines on it is captivating.  I was genuinely happy when KITT was moved to the snazzy red vehicle, although a big part of that could have been how disgusting mint green looks with red.  Seriously, including the red scanner on that bizarre seafoamy-bluey car (and yes, I do think it is a very pretty car by itself) was like when people say movies were “inspired” but in the opposite direction.  And the scanner looked weirdly small?  Was it just me?

Am I the only one who feels w e i r d just looking at this??

I think this is the most normal thing to be categorized as being in uncanny valley but there we go, I did it.  It’s not right.

Anyway, as neat as KIFT looks, it is no comparison to the classic Knight 2000 or even Season 3 KARR.  Red can be striking, but not when the classic scanner is also red.  No contrast!

KIFT is absurdly easy to forget, and I don’t think that the car’s design has anything to do with it.  KITT spends most of the movie piloting that car, and while it is not what we are used to, it doesn’t come across as super lame to me, either…or at least, not because of the design.  The biggest problem with KIFT is, I think, simply his voice.  His voice feels so out of place in the movie, and it’s so strange to me considering that Daniels’ voice is integrated just fine.  The recording sounds too crisp, too clean.  KITT’s voice always has a great deal of character, a very Earthy-sounding voice for an AI character.  I actually think that this incongruity is purposeful, and it’s a very clever concept.  We are supposed to recognize that KIFT isn’t human like KITT is.  KIFT sounds out of place in the real world among real people; he’s too neat around the edges.  It’s especially obvious when KITT and KIFT talk to each other.  This is also mirrored by how KITT occupies a well-loved Chevrolet that has little imperfections that make it feel real whereas KIFT is in this red… whatever it is that feels like it comes out of a sci-fi film.  This effect would have really worked if we had enough time with KIFT to understand his personality–or, more aptly, his lack of personality.  What makes this not work is the fact that we spend practically no time with KIFT.  We don’t get to hear what he feels he is programmed to do, we don’t get to hear him deliver the sort of lifeless lines that Shawn did that made her so unlikable, and we don’t even get to hear his voice more than 4-5 times.  Every time comes as a shock, taking us out of the moment of the film.  We could have gotten used to his crisp sound if he had spoken more, and we may have seen the actual plot significance of it.  Instead, it pulls you right out of the movie.

Oh yeah, and the only line(s?) that KIFT delivers to KITT are full-on taunting… that’s not very lifeless of you KIFT.

Alright, just one last thing to really hammer home a point from earlier and conclude this whole thing.  You know what I was saying about this movie lacking the whimsical nature of the TV show?  Well, the final chase puts the icing on this oddly sullen crab cake.

Yes, crab cake. 

Because the pinchy crab that is Shawn makes it quite painful to get this particular cake and icing doesn’t even belong on it anyway.

KITT is racing down the street in this bright red car that I just explained is thematically wrong for him to be driving tbh but whatever, he’s racing in it and comes up to a barricade of randomly stacked up cars.

Oh Yeah, we all know what is coming.

The music swells.  Michael looks at the upcoming barricade with furrowed eyebrows and quietly asks KITT what the heck they’re going to do now.

OH YEAH, we definitely know what is coming.

And at last, for the first time in the film…

KITT veers off to the right and they drive on water.  “It’s really sink or swim with you, isn’t it?” Michael asks, pretending that’s funny as if I am not still emotionally raw from that scene that happened an hour ago.

Apparently, KIFT had that one obscure feature from “Return to Cadiz,” the Season 2 episode where April forces KITT to follow KARR into the ocean on the hopes that waterproof wheels might work maybe, directly ignoring his many attempts to get out of it.  Yay.  I love references to That Episode.  That Episode which baited me with an opening that looked like KARR could have been discovered underwater only to show me that not only was there no KARR, but KITT was going to be bullied into repeating what his brother did when he died.  Wholesome.  Lovely.  Fantastic.  And how did KITT know for sure that would work?  KITT clearly still has some technical hiccups in his own CPU from Michael tampering with it, that was an awful lot of confidence to place in a maybe.

AND MORE IMPORTANTLY…

THIS MOVIE DID NOT HAVE A TURBO BOOST

A TURBO BOOST

I cannot believe that a movie based around Knight Rider did not have a turbo boost (or for that matter, the THEMESONG???).  Like I am honestly still surprised by it.  Almost every episode of the original show had at least one turbo boost, and there is a reason.  The idea of a talking car jumping in midair, sometimes with Michael “WOO!”-ing like a girl, is so fantastically fun that nobody even tries to question how impossible it is.  I think we all know how impossible it is, and that doesn’t matter, it is yet another thing that embodies the heart of this show.

And… not even one.

…

So yeah, that just happened.  I think this is technically a small novel.  Wow.

  I know that I'm still missing a lot... I have a lot of thoughts about this movie, and if you for some reason want more please ask!  I would also love to hear your thoughts on this!  Do you agree with my analysis?  Do you disagree entirely?  Did you notice something that I failed to mention entirely?  Pleasepleaseplease send ideas, I would love to hear them!  Also know that, no matter how much I was disappointed by the movie itself, I am fully open to hearing your ideas about how to improve or expand upon it.  I truly believe that this film introduced some great concepts, and I would absolutely adore seeing them reworked in a way that's more true to the original.  Thank you for reading! :D

#knight rider #knight rider 2000 #kitt #knight industries two thousand #k.i.t.t. #Michael #Michael Knight #michael knight rider #movie review #bad movie review #bad movie #knight rider 2000 movie review #knight industries four thousand #kift #k.i.f.t. #shawn #shawn mccormick #spoilers #movie spoilers #movie recap #film review #rant #movie rant #oh yeah one more thing #why is Shawn named after spices #mccormick

[kpophours]

One Love || part I

➵ SF9: Youngbin x fem. reader / series, werewolf AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight mentions of loss and death

➵ word count: 3k

next.

You knocked on the slightly ajar door in front of you. 

It was just a plain, white door - not a fancy oak one or something like that, which you had always imagined the door of a professor's office to look like. This one pretty much looked like any other normal office door. 

"Please enter.", a deep, male voice answered and you immediately pushed open the door, following the invitation. 

"Well, hello there, how can I help you?" A brown-haired, handsome man with dark eyes smiled at you, closing the book he had just looked at. "Professor Kim? I'm Y/N, your new scientific assistant.", you answered, smiling a bit shyly. Immediately, his face lit up und he circled his desk to shake your hand. "Ahh yes, of course! It's so nice to finally meet you in person - please, have a seat." His smile widened even more and he gestured towards one of the black chairs in front of his desk, taking a seat himself. 

"Thank you."  You smiled again and handed him your documents, which he quickly looked over.

"Great, everything seems to be in order! As today is your first day, we don't want to overwork you immediately, so I thought I'd start with giving you a tour around our beautiful campus and introduce you to some colleagues and then, I’m going to show you my most recent research papers, which you can have a look at for the rest of the day. Sounds good to you?" 

You smiled and nodded. "Sounds perfect, Professor Kim." 

"Ah, please - we'll have to work closely together, so just call me Inseong. I hope I can call you Y/N?", he said, simply waving his title aside and smiling at you.

"Of course, Prof- uh, I mean, Inseong." you answered, returning his smile and following the tall man out of the office.

The campus was really beautiful, full of old brick buildings as well as some more modern looking office buildings. The library was a towering, imposing structure which reminded you more of a church than an actual university building - and you immediately fell in love with it. The whole university reminded you a bit of Hogwarts, so you felt like walking through a dream. Only a handful of students seemed to be hanging out on campus today, but that wasn’t really surprising - the new semester hadn't started yet. 

"And this is the most important building out of all of them - the cafeteria.", Inseong explained, ending his tour with a grand gesture towards one of the more modern looking buildings. You laughed and he smiled, really liking the sound, bright and fresh so early in the morning - he already knew working with you would be a pleasure, you were open-minded, talkative, funny and seemed to be pretty laid-back. He couldn’t wait to hear your thoughts on his next big research project.

"Well, I think I'm going to like working here. The atmosphere is truly amazing - and the campus is beautiful, I always love when buildings have a certain... history to them.", you told Inseong just before you entered the History department again and smiled up at him, looking around and taking a last deep breath of autumn air, before pushing inside. 

"Well, you can definitely say this about these buildings! Ahh, I'm truly just so glad you're finally here. I really do need a helping hand and I'm sure we'll become a great team. Are you maybe interested in having dinner with me tonight? I could show you around our little town, if you like." Inseong immediately saw you withdrawing upon hearing his proposal. "I mean as friends of course! I am definitely not interested in dating at the moment, I simply don't have the time!", he quickly explained further, sheepishly ruffling his hair and smiling down at the you. 

You exhaled, relieved. "Oh, well... sure, I'd like that, then." Your attitude quickly changed back to your usual self and Inseong began gnawing on his lower lip. He meant it, he really wasn't interested in dating anyone at the moment - you were nice, intelligent and rather beautiful, but he knew a relationship with him would be a doomed one - because of his secret. He was a werewolf and therefore had a mate - somewhere out there in this world. It was possible that he would never meet her of course, but if he did... well, every other woman in the world would simply fade into the background, no matter how much she had meant to him before. He didn't want to risk breaking anyone's heart, so he always tried to keep his distance. And this would obviously also apply to his new research assistant.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. You were able to work through a few of Inseong’s research papers without much difficulty, already pointing out some weaknesses - he had been right, you truly were the right person to help him. You were incredibly bright and quickly came to the right conclusions - Inseong knew you’d improve his little research team in just the right way.

The walk around town in the evening was very enjoyable as you had a lot to talk about. Inseong found you very easy to talk to, your witty sort of humor entertaining him greatly. He learned that you had grown up in a rather small village together with an older brother and your parents. Your childhood had been filled with good memories, up until your grandfather died - your family had been torn apart by the loss, one of your uncles and your mother hadn't talked to each other in years afterwards. You hadn’t been allowed to play with your cousins anymore - one of which had been like a brother to you, as you were the same age. Your mother had died when you were 15, as well as your maternal grandmother a few years later, to which you had been very close after losing your mother so early. You didn't really get along with your older brother, but loved your father beyond words. 

Inseong also found out that you loved to read, listen to music and to travel, that you liked baking but not cooking and that your favorite animals were wolves (oh, the irony) and penguins. Inseong in turn told you about himself as well - that he had been raised by a very large family, that no, he had no "real" siblings, but was living together with a bunch of people now - a somewhat adopted family, he called them. Some were working in town, some were still students at university - none of them being a student of his, of course - and they were close like brothers, living together in a big old farmhouse outside of town, deep into the woods. He told you he also liked reading, but was more into historical fiction, something you rarely decided to read. 

You noticed how much you already liked your new boss and began to really look forward to working with him and the rest of his team.

It was already completely dark and rather late, when you finally finished your dinner and left the cozy restaurant. "Well, thank you very much for this evening, Inseong - I had a lot of fun. Just one last question: do you happen to know about a car repair shop around here? I just bought a car and it seems to be in pretty good shape, but the previous owner said I should get it checked as soon as possible - just to be sure." 

The tall man grinned and nodded. "I know just the guy for you - he actually lives with me! His name is Youngbin and he owns the best and biggest repair shop in town. I think I have his business card with me, just a second..." He searched through his wallet, finally finding said card and handed it to you. "Kim Youngbin, CAR REPAIR SHOP.", you read out loud, "Oh perfect, thank you! I'll call him tomorrow and ask for an appointment." But Inseong waved that aside. "I'll just tell him you'll come over after work tomorrow and he'll have a look at your car. I'm sure that won't be a problem." 

"Are you sure?", you asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, I'll tell him tonight - he’s a night owl and most definitely still awake.", Inseong answered and smiled at you.

You returned it immediately. "Well, thank you! That's really nice. I'll see you tomorrow at the office, then?" 

"Yes. I'll bring coffee - a latte for you?", he asked, car keys already in hand.

"I’d prefer a cappuccino, thanks. And can I interest you in a muffin or bagel?", you replied and he grinned.

"Oh, you absolutely can." 

"Then that's what I'll bring.", you said with a smile - and with that, you parted ways. 

When you got home, you immediately threw off your shoes and jacket, quickly tumbling into your big, comfy bed - the jet lag still hadn't fully disappeared and you were completely exhausted. Minutes later, you were already fast asleep. 

Inseong on the other hand wasn't nearly as tired as you when he came home - he also wouldn't have been able to get any sleep yet. The house was full of his brothers and some of their mates, it was apparently time for their monthly movie night again. 

"Inseong, there you are! We were almost beginning to miss you - don't tell me you were working until now?!", Jaeyoon immediately greeted him when he entered the living room. He was one half of the, how Inseong silently called them, ‘chaos line'. 

"Well, he probably wasn't one a date, so where else could he have been?", Dawon, the other half of said line, grinned and struck out his tongue at the older man. 

"Don't be mean.", his mate Ava immediately scolded, wacking him over the head and smiling apologetically at the older man, who just rolled his eyes. 

"I actually was out, just so you know." 

"ON A DATE?!", the tallest of the bunch, Rowoon, almost shouted, surprise written all over his handsome face. All fell silent, gaping at Inseong who had turned slightly red. "No, don't be ridiculous. I just had dinner with my new scientific assistant, that's all. She's new in town and doesn't know anyone yet, so I showed her around a bit." 

"Ohhh, is she pretty?", Kate, Jaeyoon’s mate, asked, smiling brightly just as Dana, Chani’s mate, asked: "Is she nice?" 

"I don't see what her looks have to do with anything, but yes - she is very pretty. But more wha’s even more important, she is nice, yes - thank you, Dana.", Inseong answered, making Kate pout. Jaeyoon grinned and slung his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. 

"Who's pretty and nice?", a male voice behind Inseong suddenly asked and Youngbin entered the living room, hands still full of grease from repairing cars all day. 

"Inseong’s new assistant.", Rowoon explained immediately. 

"Scientific assistant, there's a difference.", the older man automatically corrected, "She's writing her doctor's thesis as well as joining my research team." 

“So she's intelligent.", Zuho guessed. 

"Oh, highly so. I think she'll be able to improve my papers greatly.", Inseong confirmed and Youngbin whistled. "Coming out of your mouth... she must be half a genius." He cracked a slightly crooked smile, indicating his irony. 

"But she's not your mate, I guess.", Rowoon said and everyone fell silent again. 

"No, she is not. But something about her... I don’t know. Her scent indicates something, but I can't put my finger on it.", Inseong explained thoughtfully, staring into nothing, before shrugging, "Maybe I'm wrong, who knows. I'll go and try to get some sleep now - you guys don't stay up too late, okay?"

Everyone nodded, before looking at the big screen in front of them again. 

"Ah, by the way - Y/N needs someone to check her car, so I told her she could come by at your repair shop after work tomorrow and you'll have a look. I hope that's alright with you?", Inseong said to Youngbin and his alpha just shrugged, before nodding. "Sure. I'll be around the shop until 8pm at least, I think.", he answered.

"Perfect, Y/N will be glad to hear that. Good night then.“ With that, Inseong left their living room.

It was bitterly cold the next day. 

You already froze half to death when you hurried along the sidewalk to get to your car. Your breath formed tiny white clouds in front of you and you cursed yourself for not having thought about bringing your gloves. They were still in one of the few unpacked boxes inside your new apartment - but who could have guessed that the temperature would drop so low just over night? Not you, that much was obvious. You were glad that your car started pretty quickly, even though it was a such an old one - a black VW golf cabrio from the 90s. Back home you had driven a newer model, a shiny, silver VW polo, but now you were on a tighter budget. You just hoped that the repair shop wouldn't find any real damage tonight. 

When you finally arrived at work, your car was already cozily warm and you felt much better. You had quickly stopped at a little café not far from campus to obtain the promised muffins and bagels for Inseong and yourself and now you were rushing towards the office so you wouldn't be late for your second day. 

Inseong was already seated behind his desk when you arrived - a bit out of breath, you should really start your workout routine again - and immediately began to smile when he saw you, his dark eyes forming little crescents. "Good morning, Y/N. Slept well?" 

You grinned back, placing the food on top of the table. "I did, thank you. But I was a bit shocked when I stepped outside this morning, if I'm being honest. Such a radical temperature drop over night!" 

"Well, that does happen sometimes in this state.”, Inseong confirmed, reaching behind him and handing you a steaming cup, ”Here, take your coffee - it'll heat you up." You deeply inhaled the familiar scent, smiling slightly and thanking him, before taking a seat behind you own desk. 

You spent the next few hours in comfortable silence, with only a few interruptions whenever you had questions about the research. At around 2pm, Inseong and you had lunch at the cafeteria, where you also met up with a few other professors and their research assistants, before returning to your work. At 6.30pm, Inseong finally yawned, stretched and turned off his desk light. "Well, that's it for today. Let's go home - or in your case, let’s go to the repair shop. Youngbin knows you're stopping by, so he'll be waiting for you." 

"Ah, perfect, thank you so much, Inseong! I'll see you tomorrow, then.", you answered and smiled at him. 

"Yes, have a nice evening, Y/N." With that, he shot you a wink and left the office.

You didn't have much trouble finding the repair shop, even though you usually didn't have the best sense of direction. But earlier that day, Inseong had shown you the way on Google maps and as the shop was just a few blocks away from campus, you found it rather quickly. You parked your car in front of one of the many garages, got out and looked around a bit helplessly. The shop was much larger than you had expected and you weren’t exactly sure where to go now - the front entrance was dark, but you saw light coming from the inside of one of the garages. Still, you decided to try the front entrance first - which was already closed as you quickly found out. Finally, you knocked against the door of the illuminated garage. 

"Hello?", you asked as you carefully pushed open the door, "Is anyone here? Mr. Kim? I'm Y/N - Inseong said you could help me with my car?" 

From under the car, a person emerged, clad in heavy worker boots, a greyish tank top and an overall whose upper part was loosely tied around narrow hips. The man was tall when he stood up, his well-toned arms even more prominent thanks to his tight muscle shirt. He wore his black hair in a slight undercut and sported dark, smoldering eyes. 

He didn't return your smile when he saw you - no, he looked a bit shocked and taken-aback upon spotting you. 

"Mr. Kim?", you asked, getting a bit shy now and ducking your head when you saw his almost critical gaze. "Oh, uh - yes, I'm Youngbin." His voice was a bit rough, which caused a shiver to run down your spine. Your heart began to pound faster and your breath caught. 

Dear Lord, he was hot. 

You’d never felt such immediate attraction towards anyone ever before. 

"Hwi, can you take over, please? I have to... go." With that, Youngbin almost ran away from you, leaving you somewhat bewildered behind. Suddenly, another, younger man emerged from behind a car, sporting long, messy hair and a sweet gummy smile. "Hey there, you must be Y/N. I'm Hwiyoung, Youngbin’s helping hand. Sooo, you want us to have a look at your car?", he asked without batting an eye at his boss’ weird behavior.

You just nodded, still flabbergasted thanks to Youngbin’s strange exit. "Uh, yes, that would be great. There's nothing wrong with it - or at least not something I, someone who knows pretty much nothing about cars, can see. But the previous owner said it would be better to have it checked by a car shop.”, you finally explained and Hwiyoung nodded, taking the car keys from you and turning to leave the garage. "You can stay here, if you like. It will take about half an hour to check if anything's broken or faulty.", he said over his shoulder, smiling at you. 

"Oh... well, thank you? I just...", you trailed off, looking around the garage.

"The office is just around the corner. Ask Youngbin to make some coffee or tea. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, he grinned one last time before leaving you behind. 

You just stood there, undecided for a few seconds, before sighing deeply and finally making your way towards the office.

[next chapter] | [all chapters]

#Youngbin #SF9 #fantasylibrary #Youngbin fanfic #Youngbin fic #Youngbin fluff #Youngbin x reader #Youngbin series #Youngbin one shot #SF9 fluff #SF9 series #SF9 fanfic #SF9 fanfiction #SF9 fic #SF9 x reader #SF9 one shot #SF9 Youngbin fanfic #SF9 Youngbin fanfiction #SF9 Youngbin x reader #SF9 Youngbin series #SF9 Youngbin fluff #SF9 Youngbin fic #SF9 Inseong #SF9 Hwiyoung

[boybandsim]

leafeana replied to your post: 

WAIT i was just scrolling through your blog cause im hungry for content and saw this again and realized you asked what version i was playing? which i dont remember answering whoops

im playing it on pc! which is great bc then i get to mess around with mods (like the one that gives cindy some real clothing lol) but its also got its downsides since my computer is definitely not a gaming computer, which means graphics take a serious hit and lagging isnt uncommon

im...not sure if its royal edition?? I think windows edition has all the features of royal edition, although im not completely sure. I think luna has a cutscene in Insomnia thats only in royal edition, so once im there ill be able to tell. technically im in Insomnia now but ive time traveled back and it might be a while before i push on to the finale. after dealing with Altissia --> the start of Insomnia linearly i wanted some time to chill with the bros and pretend

everything is fine for a while. it has been a WILD ride for sure and yeah I haven't even started up any of the dlc yet! theres so much content!! ive been practicing playing as the other bros during medium-hard combat which has kept it feeling really fresh too. also its hilarious just blasting bad guys with a bazooka while the other people are in there swinging around swords and knives. and i haven't done any of the crossover quests yet, which seem big and exciting!

ill be forever sad that i missed the assassins festival but theres definitely plenty to do that I'm excited for. and im getting really into the fishing!! charmed is definitely the right word like..its not perfect at all but this game is so genuinely endearing with its characters personalites and development and its themes and music as well and it really does some things SO well.

god okay this is a lot of words. sorry for rambling and for the late reply! no one i know plays this game or has much interest in it so youre getting all my bottled up enthusiasm

PLEASE DO NOT EVER APOLOGISE FOR RAMBLING SEND ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE WORDS AND THOUGHTS AND TALKING ABOUT FFXV DUDE <3333 also literally no worries about late replies or replying at all im forever shit at them myself i get it bro nw nw nw

hell yeah pc is royal edition with a bunch of other shit and the dlcs (bar ardyn) incorporated, dont worry, also i would die for that one cindy in a decent outfit mod i know the exact one youre on about LOL (also i can recommend you some other mods if u like!!)

if i can share some knowledge with you right quick cuz i had the same problem and wouldve died to have someone tell me i went from barely 20fps on a good day to being able to run multiple programs with ffxv in the background; specialk is a very quick install and majorly helped with multithreading; otherwise for the in game options are using low resolution texture pack (assets option); shadows look near visually identical on the lowest option compared to the highest; all nvidia effects can be turned off with no significant graphic change; turning off anti aliasing entirely genuinely makes the game look better for me; i can post my full settings if itll help you and ive also read through a few tutorials for modding around lag so i can try and help you with that, i do get pretty major lag spikes though and frequently find it near impossible to stream/record, but i manage to nail that 60fps on average if im solely running ffxv with a few cut corners like those

also dont blame you with altissia, ngl i boiled through the story rollercoaster right quick after exploring most of the open world before even touching altissia and ended up ignoring all postgame content for starting a new save immediately and replaying just to get that hangout time in the open world that wasnt just go-back-in-time-through-magic-dog. but i feel you so hard dude i just want more of them chilling. literally i have 300 hours in this game already and i know half of those have been using the car listening to tunes LMFAO

yeah the crossover quests are funnn the one with terra wars is sweet and the ffxiv one is SO funny its literally hysterical i was roaring with laughter a couple times!!! and good on you practising i didnt touch any of the extended combat until my third save and yeah honestly if you want to do the postgame menaces those skillsll come in useful, its funny because the maingame bosses arent that hard but the postgame is mental. but yeah i love blowing shit up with proms bazooka it fucking rules nerds can keep their swords

ALSO SAME... i wanna play the promptis date so bad!! i wanna play episode duscae so bad!!! wanna play the platinum demo with baby noctis so bad!! knowing theyll never be ported kills meeeeee. sad & upset but as you say theres so much to do and the dlc honestly offer so much im still finding shit i havent done and ive spent a year playing already

honestly so much of this game for me is literally just booting it to go hang with the guys its really relaxing lmfaooo... hiking around with these goofy dudes. sometimes i just wanna chill with the anime boys. YEAH literally its sweet and charming and then fucking heartbreaking and even though the writing is hammy as hell im honestly so willing to forgive it. not only for the clear amount of care and love that went into specifically building the guys relationship (which anyone knows is the best and most realised part of the game) but the details and amount of lore you can uncover if you take a step and interpret a little. maybe thats too generous a statement for what was an executive nightmare and critically underdeveloped but i grew up on ffxiii and knowing the versus 13 lore and that ffxv was part of that extended canon im satisfied with it being another side to that story and running with that. i think supplemented with its additional content years after release ffxv isnt a complete experience but enough of one to leave an impact or at least it did majorly for me! ive been obsessed.

OMG sorry im nerding too its all good lol just genuinely i love this game and its hard to find people talking about it these days but i really had such a good time and still am continuing to and i love it fuck it ball hard

real shit though it has the best fishing minigame of all time hands down nothing has come close fuck the haters

#readmore for dashboards

[tiredandineffable]

The (Rule Breaking) Kiss

Still behind on fictober (this is entry #6), but I am hoping to catch up after my exam this Thursday. Wish me luck! Also, with regards to texting styles, I am somehow both Crowley and Aziraphale in this.

This is a continuation of the past two entries (part 1 and part 2). As of right now, I’m planning for this thing to have a total of 5 parts. 

Thank you to my amazing beta, @eunyisadoran!

Rated G

Summary for the whole work: Aziraphale just wanted to get her parents off her back about her love life. She did not plan on falling in love with her best friend and fake girlfriend along the way. Nor did she plan on getting fake engaged. But such is life, she supposes. Ineffable wives, fake dating au that Escalates to fake engagement au. All around, a good time to be had.

...................................

Aziraphale sits in the kitchen, ignorant to the happenings of world and her breakfast in favour of reading through the same page over and over, hoping to spot something new. Her dissertation is nearly in flames and all she can do is hope that there’s something, anything she might have missed. Is this a metaphor? Is it an autobiographical tidbit? What does Wilde want of me? Long fingers brush along her cheek and she just barely begins to process her surroundings when she feels a soft kiss against her forehead.

“Going out for the day?” Aziraphale has no idea how to handle these endearments so early in the morning. Does my voice sound as tight as it feels? Am I blushing? Can Crowley tell how much these dumb little acts of not-love affect me?

“Got a grocery list to run through, stockpile our fridge before the real holiday celebrations kick up and your mom gets mad at me for skipping chores,” Crowley says, throwing a tea bag into a travel mug of water and shoving it into the microwave before leaning in for a kiss.

It should have been sweet and short like the multitude of other kisses they’d shared just that week. They had done this for three years because that’s what respectable suburban couples did when attempting to remind everyone that they were together. But Aziraphale’s hand comes up to her cheek and Crowley presses a tinge more firmly and before either of them can really process what’s happening, it’s a kiss. Crowley’s lips part and Aziraphale’s hand tangles into those unfairly perfect curls to pull her in closer.  It’s easy to ignore the world, to ignore the fact that her mom is literally one door away in the living room, to ignore the fact that none of this is real. This isn’t a kiss anymore, it’s bordering on a make out session. A make out session they cannot, should not be having because this relationship isn’t real.

Shit.

Her hand detangles itself from Crowley’s hair to push her slightly back, to keep her at arm’s length. The way Crowley looks now is utterly unfair, like a muse made up of mussed curls, slightly parted lips, and utter confusion. But then something clicks in Crowley. She grabs the long forgotten, likely oversteeped tea and turns on her heel.

“Gotta get those groceries!”

……………….

Crowley is an idiot. She is an absolute idiot and she is acutely aware of it as she sits in her car, noticeably not shopping for groceries. The groceries were not a lie so much as they were a volunteer excursion used to get out of the house. She could pick up the things Aziraphale’s mother wanted, Aziraphale’s breakfast ingredients, and late snacks to cover the last of their grading. Most importantly, she could take some time to herself to examine what the hell she is actually doing.

Good question. What the hell happened back there?

It's all over, she’s sure of it. There’s no chance in hell Aziraphale will let this keep going after Crowley so obviously overstepped a boundary. They had rules around these things, around what they were willing to do. These rules were in place for a reason, protecting their friendship from the inevitable weirdness of pretending to date. Crowley had even contributed to a good chunk of them herself.

“Fuck,” she groans, letting her head fall to the steering wheel. She had one job. All she had to do was be relatively normal. She had to ride out this weird wave of pretending to date someone she loves and then maybe get to a point where she could tell Aziraphale the truth. If there was any chance whatsoever with Aziraphale, it’s definitely gone now. She’s pissed probably. That wasn’t overstepping a boundary, that was literally somersaulting over the fucking line like no problem. She runs a hand through her hair in frustration and just tries not to cry. Seems she’s been doing that a lot lately.

A short blip of the X-Files theme song interrupts her self-pity 80’s playlist, signalling the arrival of a much feared text from Aziraphale. She takes a breath, closes her eyes. She’ll deal with it. Whatever is in that text, she can handle it. Most definitely. Absolutely. She is a grad student, for fucks sake. She had done one of her best conference presentations while hungover, hungry, and jet lagged. She has handled flaky supervisors and demanding undergrads. She can handle one basic text from her best friend.

From: <3 Aziraphale <3

“Crowley, can we talk?”

Sent at: 11:45 AM

Nope. Crowley cannot handle this text. She can handle lots of things, including grad school, but she cannot handle this text. This is it. Oh fuck this is it. Aziraphale is going to kick her out of her life and Crowley is going to have to finish this dissertation and grade terrible undergrad papers alone.

To: <3 Aziraphale <3

“yh sure man. gonna be home in 30”

Sent at: 11:45 AM

No more post-grading drunk movies. No more making crepes just because Aziraphale likes them. No more thoughtful notes from Aziraphale tucked in between the pages of Crowley’s books. No more Aziraphale talking her out of pre-presentation, conference-induced panic attacks. No more ordering ice cream through delivery services when either of them gets a publication rejected.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She grabs the list from the dashboard and all but slams the car door, ready for the fastest supermarket shop of her life.

……………….

“So, this morning…” Aziraphale doesn’t know how to phrase this. So this morning I kissed you and got so lost in it that I let myself go too far and now I’m just desperate to keep one of the best relationships I’ve ever had the privilege to have. Please don’t hate me.

“I apologize for this morning,” she says. “When we kissed.”

“Don’t need to apologize.” Crowley sets blueberries into the fridge, pancake mix into the pantry. “And yeah, I’m aware of what happened. Your point?”

Crowley is trying and failing to act normally. Aziraphale has known her long enough to know the meaning of too-high shoulders and tight-lipped smiles. She picks up on the way Crowley’s hands shake just slightly as she puts the milk in the fridge. When Crowley stands again to look at her, there’s the trademark anxiety stance: hands in her pockets and hips hyperextending. To the untrained eye, she is as aloof and nonchalant as always. But to Aziraphale, one of the only people to have seen Crowley break down in all of her 25 years of life, she’s not handling this well.

Of course she’s not. You’ve overstepped a huge boundary and she is more than permitted to respond in any way. Any consequences are a direct result of your own actions.

Now say something. Just go. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“I hope this won’t come to affect our relationship permanently.”

Because I don’t know what I’d do if it did.

Crowley goes back to putting away groceries but Aziraphale swears that she sees her sort-of-partner’s shoulders relax. Aziraphale sips on what is now her third mug of camomile tea since that morning.

“I’m good with forgetting it ever happened, if you are,” Crowley finally responds.

Thank you to whatever supernatural power is out there.

“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”

#ineffable idiots #ineffable wives #ineffable wives fanfiction #ineffable wives fic #ineffable wives fanfic #ineffable partners #crowley #aziraphale/crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #Aziraphale #my writing #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #fictober #fictober19 #the 80s self pity playlist is real and I know that because I made it #hmu for the 80s self pity playlist

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 8: The Hunters

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Katherine returns with a friend and some bad news. Nadya meets another member of the Council.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Hey, Adrian?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“I think I put that I knew shorthand on my resume.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I think now’s a good time to point out that I don’t know shorthand.”

Adrian’s delayed laughter is like a lag in the matrix. He looks up from his files and offers a comforting smile. “No worries. You’re not here in an official capacity.”

She hopes it isn’t obvious how she slowly slides three of her four colored pens off the tabletop and into her sweater pocket. If Adrian notices he doesn’t call her out in it. Not like orange pen would show up well on yellow office paper anyway.

Before she can ask him to clarify there’s a sharp rap of knuckles; the conference room door opens to Nicole with a stack of papers tucked neatly in her elbow. Not a hair out of place. God what Nadya wouldn’t give to look so impeccably perfect right about now.

Everything in the VP of Operations’ body tenses when she catches sight of the pair of them sitting thick as thieves at the end of the long white board room table. Nadya tries a small wave, but she’s not surprised that Nicole ignores her.

“Mister Raines, your ten-thirty has arrived.”

“Great,” he nods and starts piling up the spread of documents and research he’s slowly been hoarding, “send her in.”

Nicole looks as if she’s debating saying something — whether it’s her loyalty to Adrian or her professionalism in the workplace that wins out it just leaves Nadya feeling even more confused.

“She’s brought a guest.” When Adrian looks up; “Another one of them.”

The vampire’s expression darkens and Nicole takes her leave. Professionalism her butt — Nicole looked delighted to have upset her boss just so.

Nadya watches him pace with growing concern. “Then what am I supposed to be doing, exactly?”

“Keeping you in the dark just doesn’t sit well with me anymore,” explains Adrian, “not on anything.”

The door opens again — this time without announcement — and they both turn to greet their guests. The vibrant punch of colored hair sends Nadya reeling into another moment of nostalgia. She’s been having a lot of those in the last month. But it isn’t Lily who joins them — it never will be.

“Katherine, a pleasure to see you again.”

Adrian crosses the room in a single bound. He’s been doing a lot of that lately, Nadya notices. His eyes scanning documents faster than her heart can beat and the occasional vampiric dash to catch something falling. Even his familiar black-matte water bottles no longer carry the guise of a tea bag string hanging over the cap.

How hard must it have been, she wonders, for him to pretend to be human with me?

A charade he obviously doesn’t need to have around Katherine. With everything going on she’s not thought about the mysterious stranger from the Gallery in a while but now she’s just another piece of the puzzle that’s growing faster than Nadya can solve it.

Katherine backs up; nearly into the figure behind her, at Adrian’s approach. Plasters on an obvious grimacing smile and doesn’t take his offered hand.

“Yeah, wish I could say the feeling’s mutual but — it’s not, so.”

At Katherine’s back the dark-haired man’s face grows somehow more stern; something Nadya wasn’t sure was possible. Were his brows furrowed any lower they’d obscure his eyes. He doesn’t move to put himself in the way of Adrian but there’s an obvious connection between the leather-clad guests that Nadya can see even at a distance.

Adrian’s well-versed in the world of business transactions; knows he’s not going to be able to force either of them to ease the tension through stiff-if-polite interaction. He nods curtly to the man and gestures for them to take any of the open seats at the conference table.

Katherine pulls out one of the chairs and only then seems to notice Nadya.

“Well look at you,” though everything she says seems laced with sarcasm there’s an impressed sparkle in her eye, “all grown up and at the big kids’ table now?”

In her confusion, Nadya only fumbles. “I—huh?”

Katherine’s friend yanks his chair back and practically falls into it — kicks his snow-caked boots up on the pristine white table and gives less than zero fucks about the flecks of mud that dirty the marble.

He jerks a thumb at Nadya; still floundering. “This the muggle you were talking about?”

Katherine nods. “Yeah, but I could’ve sworn she didn’t know a thing.”

“What, that vampires are real?” She pushes up her glasses and puts on her best fake smile. “I’m pretty perceptive.”

“Not just vampires.” There’s a chuckle hidden deep in the man’s Southern twang that brings a pink to Nadya’s cheeks. Before she can ask what he means, Katherine hits his legs.

“Can you at least try and act professional, Ryder? Christ.”

“Anything for you Kathy.”

Ryder’s boots find their way firmly onto the floor. He gives Katherine a ‘What?’ look with only his face but remains silent.

Back at the front of the room Adrian clears his throat. “If we could begin… I have another meeting in an hour.”

Not that Nadya expects Katherine or her friend Ryder to suddenly pull out a presentation on the overhead projector, but whatever this meeting is (importance aside) she hoped for something a little more official. But apparently official just doesn’t exist outside of secret meetings at city events.

“Anything for you, boss.” The word drips off Katherine’s tongue with nothing less than her full sarcastic capability. “Did you follow up on the information I gave you on Courette?”

Courette. Even hearing his name sends a shiver down Nadya’s spine. Makes her remember everything Courette led to; The Shrike, the Baron, Maricruz — what happened to Lily — the Cellar…

“Yes, thank you for that again,” Adrian sifts through his papers and pulls out a small packet, slides it down the table where Ryder snatches it up to lazily peruse, “but it led to a dead end.”

Nadya glares at him sharply. “Seriously? What about the Summons?”

“He appeared in front of the Council as per the pact. But Courette stopped showing up for work a week prior to his attacking you. Sometime in between the two events he was Turned Feral. The Council voted and decided there was no connection.”

When was this, Nadya wonders; can’t help but wish she could give that Council — and The Baron — a piece of her mind on the matter.

Adrian squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. It helps and it doesn’t. Too many things were complicated these days.

“I hope you know info’s info and I demand payment regardless.” Katherine warns. Adrian gives her a curt nod.

“Kamilah’s already transferred your funds as well as a compensation for hazard pay. We do appreciate the danger you’re putting yourselves in — whether you believe us or not.”

The comment seems directed at Ryder; who snorts and goes back to reading. He’s not a man of many words.

Coming into this, Nadya had hoped Adrian would at least fill her in beforehand. Trying to pick up the story from context is proving harder than she thought — but there’s no way in Hell she’s raising her hand and asking what’s what. Katherine and the Ryder guy were hired by Adrian and Kamilah for something involving the Ferals �� something that was starting even before she was attacked.

“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” drawls Ryder, “but I think it’s in Kathy’s best interest to up the pay anyway.”

Adrian stills. “And why is that?”

“You wanna tell him or should I?” Ryder seems to be getting some sort of delight in whatever information they’re withholding. Katherine smacks his arm but his smirk doesn’t abate.

“We think we found a couple of viable candidates for the Feral that Turned Courette.”

“A couple?” asks Adrian, appalled.

“Well, a few.”

“I need a number.”

“Eight.”

The color drains from Adrian’s cheeks. “Ei — over half a dozen?”

“Well, there were ten, that’s why Kathy called me up from the Bayou.” Ryder explains. “But we took care’a two of ‘em.”

It’s Nadya’s turn to offer comfort as Adrian sinks into his chair with a hand on his forehead. He’s not sweating — she doesn’t even know if he can — but he’s definitely more pale than usual. With the bright fluorescents overhead the shadows under his eyes are more prominent, too.

“Is that more than you thought?” she whispers while pushing his water bottle close. He shakes his head like he can’t even stomach the news let alone a drink.

“We’ve killed a good baker’s dozen on our own… and thought the problem handled.”

Ryder clears his throat to draw their attention. “We’ve narrowed down their territories to a couple square blocks per target. I’m sure I don’t gotta tell you these bastards are normally pack-oriented — but they ain’t smart enough to divide and conquer.”

“So most likely scenario we can come up with is that someone’s making Ferals with no relation to one another to keep them separate. Nothing to tie them to each other or whoever holds the leash.” To her credit, nothing in Katherine’s voice is amused. In fact Nadya wonders if she catches a quiver of unspoken fear.

Adrian doesn’t immediately reply — the duo wait in patient silence. She feels so useless, so ignorant; like any suggestion would be met with Ryder’s laughter and scorn and an explanation as to why she’s so wrong. She doesn’t know what to do and it’s an awful, awful feeling knotting inside her.

When Adrian finally stands the room lets out a collective exhale of relief. Palms flat on the tabletop, he keeps his eyes downward.

“Nadya, can I have you head back up to the office and set up a meeting with Kamilah before the night is through?”

It’s a little bit of a shock. Takes her a moment to realize he’s talking to her even though he very clearly said her name.

“Uhm, yeah,” because that technically is part of her job, but… “like, right now?”

“Yes. Please.”

It takes her a few seconds to catch up, but she does. It’s in the way Katherine suddenly won’t meet her eyes — how the Ryder fellow’s dark gaze hints at pity. Whatever Adrian has to say — really say — he doesn’t want her to hear.

She wants to argue even though she knows it’ll make her look like a petulant child. After all wasn’t that why he’d asked her down here? So out of respect for her dignity she doesn’t. She does, however, make sure she pushes back her chair a little louder than necessary when she grabs her things.

“Let her know it’s urgent.”

“Yes, Mister Raines.” She finds small satisfaction in his almost imperceptible flinch.

“Nadya…”

“Anything else I can do for you, Mister Raines?”

He sighs. “No. Thank you.”

“Of course Mister Raines.”

So much for not keeping me in the dark. She gives a nod to Katherine and a polite smile Ryder’s way as she leaves. Finds herself lingering by the doorway — literary irony thou art a cold-hearted witch — to catch the turn of the conversation just briefly before it closes.

“How much will extermination cost?”

“For something like this? A favor.”

When she tiredly scrapes her key in the door the first thing she hears is the faint lilt of opera music through the thin wood.

Nadya’s gotten used to living alone. She didn’t want to — sometimes her brain even tricks itself into hearing the familiar sounds of digital violence and Lily’s cheers of inevitable victory. “The harder you hit the buttons and the louder you yell the more powerful you are,” that’s what Lily would say. And she played like it was a proven fact, too.

But there’s no pretending this is Lily. Winter’s been melting into spring and her grief still burns bright but not so much it makes her ignorant.

Her thumb hovers over the button to dial Adrian as she slowly pushes the door open. Yes, most people would call the police. But most people didn’t have a two hundred year old vampire for a boss and yes she’s still frustrated at that very vampire but that wouldn’t stop her from letting him make a midnight snack out of anyone stupid enough to break into her apartment and listen to opera.

When a voice she doesn’t recognize calls from inside she almost drops her phone from fright.

“Miss Al Jamil, finally. Here I was starting to worry something terrible had befallen you on your commute home.”

It’s not quite sunrise yet. Maybe an hour—hour and a half until it would be dangerous for Adrian to drop her off. Yet the living room curtains are drawn and the whole place smells of faint spices she’s not indulged in since she moved away from home.

She closes the door behind her and tries very very hard to understand the broad-shouldered figure sitting at the tiny table she’d forced Lily to buy prior to taking up her share of the lease.

“Senator Vega.”

The Senator smiles; all charm and one left dimple in the way that’s won him at least the household wife vote. He looks dreadfully out of place — Adrian was the last time something that expensive walked through her doorway — but at the same time doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable. He just is. But he is in her apartment.

“I gotta tell you,” yes, she’s disturbed beyond belief, but Nadya follows her routine like it’s any other day — leaves her shoes by the doormat and goes to put her dirty lunch container in the sink, “there’s such a thing as going too far with your constituents. This. This is too far.”

But why else would Senator Vega be in her apartment? She’s not dumb.

“The sun will be up soon.”

Vega laughs with a shake of his head. His fingers drum continuously on his starched pants.

“Well, Adrian wouldn’t have signed you into his Clan if you weren’t bright. But I have to say Miss Al Jamil —”

“Just Nadya is fine.”

“— Nadya, then; you should be a little more careful going forward. I’m sure you can guess our kind aren’t deterred by locks and deadbolts. Do you even carry a stake in your purse?”

She chugs half a bottle of water from the fridge before turning to Vega fully. “You know, until now I hadn’t seen the need.”

“Tsk tsk, then Adrian has failed you in properly ensuring your protection.”

Her fists clench at her sides. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t break into my place to tell me what Adrian’s not doing right, Senator.”

“Please,” with that same politician-smeared endearing tone he uses during newscasts, “call me Adam.”

“No thank you.” Even in the darkness barely permeated by the overhead kitchen lamp she sees the tick of his frown — there and then gone in a flash. Vampires are cunning and politicians are cunning so what happens when you put all that cunning into one vessel? Nadya’s got a sickening feeling she’s close to finding out.

He waves it off easily. “I digress. Yes, Nadya, I am not without ulterior motive for visiting you tonight. But I’m not the only Council member eager to put a face to the name Adrian praises so often these days. My associate Cecil had the, ahem, pleasure, I was told, but he’s not the most hospitable even on a good day.”

“Cecil?”

“Our friend ‘The Baron.’” He says the name like it’s on the same tier as ‘The Boogeyman.’ Nadya sucks in a breath and nods.

“Yes, yes we were told you two had been acquainted. Dreadful business — certainly something that never would have happened under my purview.”

“Sucks you weren’t there, then.”

Vega obviously finds her funny but he’s the only one laughing. “Indeed. Now, onto business…” Nadya does her level best not to tense when Vega starts pacing the apartment. His angular nose twitches — makes her wonder if he can catch some whiff of what happened to Lily. Adrian tried to insist on a cleaning crew but Nadya refused — wanted to take care of it herself. Took a long weekend and spent it on her hands and knees scrubbing industrial bleach over the tiles and threw away everything with even so much a speck of dirt on it just in case that dirt was blood.

He stops opposite her, the kitchen island between them, and thumbs the leather strap of her purse idly.

“I don’t know how much your dear employer has told you about the Council. How it was founded. Why it was necessary — why it continues to be a necessity in these troubled times. What we stand for, and what we stand in the way of when it comes to the balance of things.

“This city is teetering precariously, Nadya. We’ve become a mountain on the head of a pin in the middle of a hurricane. And if things continue as they are…” He doesn’t have to give her the visual. “I’ve already prepared for the inevitable; as many of us in the Council have. But I fear Adrian may be too ensconced with the present to be thinking ahead as he must.”

She fumbles for words. It’s a lot to take in. “If you think — or know — something bad is going to happen, why don’t you try and stop it?”

“Such a finite way of thinking about things; part of that mortal charm, I’m sure.” Answers Vega — only it’s not an answer at all. He’s just talking in circles.

“The Council and I need Adrian Raines to be looking far ahead — his sights set on the future. Your influence has apparently been enough to keep him fixated on the present, so perhaps your influence might be enough to tilt his chin up a bit — if you get my meaning.”

No, I don’t, she wants to say. Get the hell out of my apartment, she wants to say.

But he’s waiting for an answer, so…

“Yeah.”

“Good. If you value him as much as he values you then I think you’ll find this leads to an outcome beneficial for all.”

The sudden beeping of her phone cuts through the tension harshly. Makes her jump and grasp her chest before she looks down at it. Her sunrise alarm greets her with a digitally smiling sun.

Vega’s the one who turns it off — takes a moment to look at the screen with something akin to amusement before hitting the snooze. “I believe that’s my cue to leave. This has been an enlightening discussion but the sun waits for no vampire — no matter his age.”

Discussion? She can’t remember really discussing anything. Only talking in circles.

“No need to show me out, I remember the way.” Vega takes her hand without prompt and kisses the back of her knuckles. God, how she wishes chivalry was dead right about now. “Thank you for entertaining me, Nadya. I hope you found this meeting as delightful as I did.”

She resists every urge to yank her hand back, but crosses her arms defensively. “Sure. That’s a word for it.”

The Senator heads out likely in the same manner that he came in; as though he owns every piece of ground he walks on. He stops just shy of closing the door behind him and gives Nadya a final farewell with his unnerving politician-practiced smile.

“Don’t forget to vote.”

The door clicks shut but Nadya doesn’t move. She stares at the blank wood with a trembling lower lip. Just waiting, waiting for him to come back inside. Or for another vampire to invade her space.

Her snooze alarm snaps her out of her trance. Nadya sinks to the kitchen floor in blubbering tears.

“I do not seek to invalidate your fear but leaving your front door unlocked sends a message even I am confused about. Has it been this way all day? Nadya? Where are y — Nadya.”

Kamilah sighs as she takes in the sight before her. Nadya on the kitchen floor, legs curled to her chest, phone clutched in her hand. White knuckles that won’t thank her for keeping such a tight grip later on in life.

“What are you doing down there?” She waits for an answer but Nadya… she doesn’t give one. Doesn’t think she can speak more than the dozen desperate voice messages left on Adrian’s cell.

A dozen whimpering, tear-filled pleas for him to come protect her and what did she get in reply?

[TEXT]: Nadya I’m so so sorry. Out of the city. Calling Kamilah ASAP. -Adrian [TEXT]: Kamilah en route. Stay there. Have a bag packed. -Adrian

“Stand.”

She lets out a shaky breath and shifts her legs. Pins and needles race along her skin and her knees ache in protest. How long has she been down here?

“Are you impaired, now? Or injured in some way?” Then Kamilah’s face comes into her sight line; the vampire crouched before her in a way that lesser, confused people might call concerned.

“Nadya, look at me.” Her voice, like smoke and cinnamon, draws Nadya’s eyes to hers. Lets her map every little crease that was allowed to set in before she was Turned — frozen in eternal beauty. Holy… wow. “Are you injured?”

It takes a second for her to recover but Nadya manages to shake her head. Kamilah nods, satisfied, and when she stands she has a slim hand extended in offering. With her help Nadya pulls herself up.

“Oof!” The pins and needles catch up with her; angry at her audacity to move after being still from sunrise to sunset. She sways and reaches out for purchase. Finds herself held steady by a lithe and impossibly strong grip.

“You said you were uninjured.” chides Kamilah; who now looks Nadya over with almost medical scrutiny.

“I’m fine,” though her voice probably shouldn’t sound foreign to her own ears, “seriously — my legs just fell asleep. I’m fine, Kamilah. I promise.”

Only when the vampiress seems satisfied does she let go of Nadya — Nadya who’s desperately putting every brain cell she has left into resisting flushing crimson red. Without another word Kamilah vanishes in a blur — reappears not a moment later. The opera music no longer plays.

“The premises are empty.”

“Yeah, I could have told you that.”

“You seemed incapable of doing much of anything.” Kamilah glances back where Nadya had been on the floor and, well, she’ll give her that. “Adrian contacted me hours before, but I could do nothing until sunset. He said you were attacked. But I see no evidence of —”

“Not — it — lemme explain—”

“I expect nothing less. After we’re far from here.”

Nadya packs under Kamilah’s careful surveillance. She has to wrangle her old suitcase out of her closet — runs past her vampire protector several times to grab her things from the bathroom, the living room, Lily’s room — but manages to shove in a couple changes and enough comfy hoodies to last a prison sentence in Siberia. And a change of work clothes just in case.

“Make what you can carry last,” Kamilah advises her from the doorway, “you likely won’t be returning soon.”

Nadya pushes up her glasses — a reminder that has her rifling for her spare pair in her bedside table. “What do you mean?” Well there’s one pair… what happened to the third?

Kamilah scoffs. “You’re unprotected here.” She says it like a fact; something obvious. And in retrospect the fact that she continued to sleep in the same place where Lily was attacked — where Lily was killed — for weeks after… It makes Nadya pack just a little bit faster.

She’s known objectively that Kamilah and Adrian were very different people — but learns just how different when Kamilah opens the passenger side door of a car that would look more at home on a 60s spy film set. Her suitcase stays clutched in her lap while she waits for Kamilah to join her; both taking in the dark leather-lined interior and finding herself terrified of damaging it.

Kamilah shuts her door with possibly more force than necessary. “What are you staring at?”

“My student debt cost put into one vehicle — how did this thing not get stolen while you were upstairs?”

“If that is truly your only curiosity then you should really reconsider your living arrangements.”

“A broke girl lives where a broke girl can afford.”

Kamilah looks at her sharply — Nadya quickly backtracks. “Something Lily used to say; but without the expletives.”

It’s no surprise that Kamilah’s empathy has a limit — and she’s expended all she can manage. The car peels away from the curb in a squeal of tires and blaring taxi horns. If she wasn’t so exhausted she’d be a little more terrified of crashing. Instead Nadya lets the purr of the engine and the lights of the emerging New York night lull her into a snooze until they arrive.

There’s one thing glaringly wrong with all the splendor of Ahmanet Financial and the apartment Kamilah sets her up in: it’s nothing like the condo at Raines Corp. at all. Still wide and spacious but every turn of her head makes Nadya dizzy — no surface left un-adorned with antiques older than she can even fathom. And despite the night every curtain is still drawn shut and clasped with a wrought iron hook. Nadya wouldn’t mind seeing the view from this side of the city but she’s not going to impose on Kamilah more than she already is.

“I thought we were going to Adrian’s.” She follows Kamilah’s lead and toes off her shoes at the doorway. Steps on the raised hardwood floors and feels the cold leech through her socks.

“Adrian is out of town until tomorrow. Urgent Council business.”

“You didn’t go with him?” The arched brow she gets makes Nadya fumble to take her words back. “I—I just mean, you know, as a Council member too.”

“No. I did not. Lucky for you.”

Her tour is brief — closed doors mean stay out and she’s strongly encouraged to take a shower. “Or a bath, if you prefer, I trust you know how not to drown.” And the way she gestures to the single fanciest bathtub Nadya’s ever seen in her entire life incites just a hint of jealousy.

All too soon Kamilah’s sliding her heels back on at the doorway. Nadya stares silently — she can’t help but feel a little like a babysat kid… or a house pet left to its own devices.

“Try not to have any life-threatening emergencies. My butler Gerard can be reached through the landline.” Christ she’s not seen a landline outside of an office in ages. “Keep up after yourself.”

“You’re not going to…”

Kamilah’s stare stops her words in her mouth. “What,” asks the vampire, “did you think I would stay?”

Adrian would, she thinks, and definitely doesn’t say it out loud because she values her head on her neck.

“While it may be the single most bothersome occupation I’ve filled my time with, the running of a Fortune 500 company does not simply happen. We’ve made ourselves titans of business and now we must follow through.”

“Yeah, yeah no, of course.”

Kamilah opens the door; seems to remember something and flashes a look over her shoulder.

“And one more thing — do not leave. This is where you are safest.”

She wasn’t planning on it. “Thanks — again. I mean… for everything. Thank you, Kamilah.”

“Mm.” The door closes with Kamilah on the other side.

Nadya wraps her arms around her middle and tries — with little success — not to feel so utterly alone.

#bloodbound #nightbound #adrian raines #nik ryder #playchoices #bloodbound mc #katherine nightbound #mc: nadya al jamil #adam vega #kamilah sayeed #oblv: bound by destiny #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[jian-riou]

Coffee & Conversation || Cris & Ji

Who: @cristian-capulet and @jian-riou Where: coffee shop When: February 8th What: Cris & Jian meet for coffee and getting to know each other. Flirting ensues and plans are made.

Cristian slid gracefully into the seat opposite the Dominant, despite his nerves. Meeting Jian the month prior in an event setting had felt more informal despite their setting, but he had enjoyed their conversation nonetheless. If The Duchess knew of him, he figured he must be a decent individual— and on some level she thought they might click... right?  “Apologies if I kept you waiting long, Sir— I had a work call to take this morning and unfortunately it ran a little long. I usually try to be early to these types of things,” he explained as he set down his coffee cup.

The week in Korea had worn him out. He was still suffering from jet lag but he had things to do, including meeting Cristian Capulet for coffee. "No worries at all. I'm still on Korea time so I'm not even sure what time it is let alone if you are late," he said, smiling. "Your day is going well? Despite the overly long call..."

"Oh uh-- yes," Cristian responded with a polite nod, itching to ask about Korea. "Work is work-- the Duchess pretty much comes first right now in terms of my priorities," he explained, quickly adding, "At very least until I get more adjusted and settled within my position."

"Despite not being of House Nantes, I'm a great admirer of the Duchess. She has done much good for her House and for the country," Ji said, his compliment for Katarin LeMeur sincere. "How long have you been in Vannes? I can only imagine that it is quite the change."

The submissive's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise at the compliment, taking a sip of his drink while the other spoke. "A little over two months now," he answered. "I arrived late November. It's been.. interesting. The holidays are kind of a chaotic time to get settled, but I'm working on it."

Ji noted Cristian's surprise. Was it so strange that he thought highly of Katarin? "The holidays are a chaotic period. So beyond getting settled, how are you finding Breton so far? I am sure it is very different from...Verona, yes?"

Cristian hesitated a moment before nodding. “Quite different, though to be honest I’ve never lived anywhere else prior, so anything likely would seem different to me,” he answered with a shrug. “I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to figure out new places from doctors to good coffee shops— let alone how hard it would be to meet people,” he added, smiling shyly as he finished speaking.

The shy smile was very attractive on the other man and it pulled a smile to Jian's face. "I've never lived anywhere else either. I can only imagine the difficulty. Though you seem to have done very well so far. As far as meeting new people, you seem to have done pretty well. I mean, if I do say so myself," he teased, smirking over the rim of his coffee cup before taking a sip.

Cristian felt his cheeks flush faintly in response to the other's compliment. "Um well... Until the ball, I didn't meet too many-- and if anything, I have the Duchess to thank for this technically," he excused, averting his gaze briefly before it returned to Jian. "I tend to be a bit of a workaholic at times-- it's... easy... to get wrapped up in work when you don't have much of a social life established yet, yeah?"

"Yeah, that definitely makes sense. And being a workaholic on top of learning a new position? Not exactly optimum conditions for any kind of social life. Did you end up enjoying the ball?" Jian asked, enjoying the faint blush on Cristian's cheeks.

Jian's understanding helped Cristian relax, nodding as he took a sip of his drink again. "I did, actually... I went with a friend of mine, and enjoyed getting to know others at it--  yourself included. I admittedly didn't think we'd be crossing paths again though.. Breton is quite large, after all."

Jian chuckled. "Large? Really? I think most find Breton to be fairly small. At least in some circles. But I confess, I'm more than happy to cross your path again."

The submissive's smile spread, chuckling softly. "All perspective I guess," Cristian answered with a shrug. "You know.. If I remember correctly, we spoke a lot about me at the ball... I admittedly don't feel like I know much about you, Sir. Care to change that?"

"Sure, but if you want to know something specific you have to ask..." Jian paused, thinking of what to start with. "I was born and raised in Breton, but I was adopted at birth. I have lovely parents. My birth mother was a student from Hong Kong. I have an older brother, also adopted. We are polar opposites. "

Cristian couldn't help his surprise at finding out the other was also adopted, his smile spreading at the commonality between them. "I was going to ask about your job or hobbies-- or favorite past times in general... But family works too," he responded. "Believe it or not, I'm actually adopted too-- but I'm afraid I don't know anything about my birth parents, and I was raised as an only child."

Jian was surprised to find the other was also adopted but maybe the Duchess thought that might give them a connection. "Really? That's...really interesting. I just haven't met that many adoptees. I know nothing about my birth father. I suspect he was a Breton." Jian shrugged. "I want to go to Hong Kong someday. I feel that pull to know more about my background..." Jian paused and sipped his coffee. "As for a job, I'm a vlogger. Yes, its a real job."

He couldn't help but pause, ready to respond when the other added on his reaffirmation of his work. He couldn't say he knew much about vloggers..? He barely knew the term, and didn't tend to watch people who filmed themselves online, knowing it was popular but simply something he never had time for. "Touchy, touchy," he couldn't help but comment in amusement. "I'm guessing someone's given you a rough time for that? I can't say I'm very familiar with the profession, but if it pays the bills..."

Jian smirked at the comment and shrugged. "Some people don't realize the work that actually goes into it. Sure, in the beginning it's not much. It takes time to grow and find a voice and a following. I've done that. Now I'm expanding. We'll see where that leads."

"And you make a living off it entirely? No side job?" Cristian asked curiously. "What kind of time does that take? Standard forty hour week, or...?"

"I do now, yes. Once I graduated from University and could concentrate on it exclusively." Truth was, Jian had a very good following in Breton and it was beginning to expand. "I wouldn't say I work eight to five every day but I put in forty or over most weeks. I'm also starting a website so that has taken up time." He also had sponsorships which generated income. But that was a lot of information to digest.

Cristian nodded, surprised slightly by the workload, even though he knew most people who ran their own businesses worked long hours. “Sounds like quite the commitment— you sure you have time to take breaks like this for coffee with strangers?” He asked playfully. His own job was a commitment himself, but at least most things were scheduled and organized, which allowed him to block out time for others. Without it, Cristian wasn’t sure how good he would be at balancing work and play.

"See, that's the bonus. I'm the boss, so I can do what I want, when I want. Including having coffee with handsome strangers," Jian said.

Cristian felt his cheeks flush again, taking another sip of his coffee before responding. “I suppose being your own boss certainly has its perks... So aside from your online business, what else do you do? You know— aside from flattering strangers over a cup of coffee?”

"I read quite a bit. I used to skateboard but I haven't done that in awhile. Too busy. I travel a bit with my friend, Jaewon. He is a figure skater. I go to support him in competitions." He was enjoying the blush on the other man's cheeks. "I spend a fair bit of time with my family as well."

"You skateboard," the submissive repeated back in faint disbelief. "You.. certainly don't look like the type," Cristian added, trying to picture a younger version of Jian in stereotypical skater attire. "Jaewon though..." His voice dropped off before a look of recognition crossed his features. "You know-- I think I met him actually.. At Pittegreen as well!"

"Is it that unbelievable?" Jian chuckled. He supposed that he didn't look like a skateboarder at the moment, but he'd definitely done a lot of it. "Did you? Jae is my best friend. So ridiculously talented it nearly makes me ill to think about it."

"I suppose not, though I'm admittedly picturing a slightly younger version of you in a beanie and elbow and knee pads-- maybe some baggy shorts," he teased. "And he certainly sounded like it. I played a little tennis back in the day, but nowhere near a professional's skill level. I don't think I could handle the kind of stress he probably deals with-- it was always a hobby."

"You may not that be far off," Jian said, groaning at the description of who he was in university. "Skateboarding was always a hobby for me as well. It takes a whole lot of drive to do well in a global competition. Something Jae has in spades." Sometimes to his own detriment. "Tennis though? Now I'm picturing you in little white shorts."

“Yes, Tennis,” he repeated back with amusement. “Hopefully you don’t have something against said shorts— I’m afraid they’re rather popular attire on the courts.”

"White shorts with those legs? No, no problem with that at all," Jian said, giving Cristian a wink over his coffee cup.

Cristian couldn’t help laughing, retorting, “Last I checked you’ve only seen me wearing full length pants— careful you don’t set too high of an expectation if that changes.”

"I can see that you have legs, despite the length of your pants, Cristian," Jian said. "I also have a wonderful imagination."

"Oh really now?" Cristian couldn't help but smile, playfully adding, "Duly noted then, Sir. Perhaps we could get together and play a few rounds some time if you're interested in making that a reality?"

"When it's warmer outside, absolutely. I'm a shit player, forewarned but as long as you are wearing the shorts, I'm good."

"No worries-- I've been told I'm a decent teacher, white shorts and all. And of course, fair's fair. I'd be willing to split the day doing an activity of your choosing as well, Sir," he responded back with a grin, enjoying the idea of negotiating a future activity.

Jian chuckled. "So, I can put you on a skateboard?"

"Do you want to put me on a skateboard, Sir?" Cristian gave the other a pointed, amused look as he added, "If you're looking for me to skin my knees, rest assured there are other, more favorable methods."

"I don't disagree, but if you end up with skinned knees, I'm not doing something right," Jian said, smirking. Knees were not his preferred location for delivering pain.

“You didn’t answer my question though, Sir,” Cristian teased. “Though I’m a bit curious as to what ran through your mind just now as well admittedly.”

"I think it is pretty obvious I was thinking about putting you on your knees. But yes, I'd like to get you on a skateboard. Mostly because I think it's something you'd never think to do."

Cristian couldn’t help but laugh, shrugging innocently as he did so. “Is it that obvious, hm? I’m afraid I’m liable to break my neck, if not a bone at very least, if you try to get me on one— fair warning of course. I’m pretty sure that requires far more foot eye coordination than I’m capable of.”

"I promise you won't break a bone. I won't promise you won't come away with any bruises, however." Though he'd rather be the one creating them. "If you can run and make contact with a tennis ball, you have enough coordination for a skateboard."

“Perhaps. But just so you know, I bruise like a peach.” While he wasn’t one for being forward, Cristian was enjoying their conversation and decided to try being a bit more forward than usual, adding, “And if that’s at all your end goal, I’d be far more open to exploring other means to get there.”

Jian truly couldn't help the small hum of pleasure at the thought. "It's definitely a goal, but not necessarily the end one," he said, gaze steady. "There are far more things I believe I'd enjoy exploring with you."

“And just what would those things be, hm?” The words left Cristian’s lips almost immediately, drawn in by the other’s comment.

"Beyond getting you on your knees and seeing exactly if you bruise like a peach?" Jian repeated, drawing out the words. "Things that require a lot less clothing and far more time than we currently have."

Cristian’s gaze flickered over Jian, flushing slightly as he thought about the idea of scening with the Dominant in front of him— someone he’d have likely considered out of his league and not even remotely interested prior to their coffee date. Perhaps things were finally looking up? “Sounds like we need to meet again then, doesn’t it?”

"It does." Jian sipped his coffee as his gaze traveled the submissive. "Any ideas, then?"

“Well...” Cristian hesitated a moment before suggesting, “Do you have plans yet for Valentine’s?”

"No, do I now?" Ji asked with a subtle smirk.

The response was enough to draw a mirror smirk from the submissive, answering, "Seems so."

#[cristian capulet] #para