it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

hi its 3am and im brainrotting again. can we talk about the first time we see dazai and chuuya interact? the scene where dazai gets caught by the mafia and chuuya comes to taunt him while hes chained to the wall? rewatching it after knowing their full history..... like. they started working together when they were children. fought side by side for YEARS. sure, they bickered the entire time, but chuuya explicitly put his life in dazais hands on multiple occasions. they claim to hate each other, but their actions speak otherwise. they were PARTNERS. the deadly duo. soukoku. THEN dazai disappears for like a year or two? (i forget the timeline but im pretty sure its around that.) [EDIT: four years. four years???? oh my god. cant believe i was so far off. dont post things at 3am lmao. ty @azapofinspiration] just fucking drops off the face of the earth. and chuuya claims he celebrated when dazai left- in fact, he probably did! but you know he missed him. you KNOW. he just wont admit it to himself

and now, after dazai has been missing for a substantial amount of time, hes back. playing for the enemy team. can you fucking IMAGINE this from chuuyas perspective????? god, id be FURIOUS. [well. id be feeling a lot of things. but anger is easier than unpacking all of that.] and he also knows that dazai is too smart to be captured by the mafia, so he goes to give him a piece of his mind, ask him what his fucking deal is, and finally be the one picking on HIM for once. let out some of the frustration [and definitely no other feelings] from his former partner betraying him, disappearing, and then showing up again a year later. and then what actually happens? dazai reads him like a fucking book, taunts him with the opportunity to kill him, blackmails him for information, and then reveals that he could have just left at any time but he SPECIFICALLY waited to fuck with chuuya. and then humiliates him on the way out! the absolute DISRESPECT.

and like. not only is this an EXCELLENT introduction to their relationship- it establishes that they know each other very well, they used to be partners but now theyre enemies, and that the hostility between them is very familiar- but it gets SO MUCH FUNNIER with the full context. like dazai doing All That is disrespectful enough, but this is after he: left the mafia without so much as a goodbye, BLEW UP CHUUYAS CAR, disappeared for FOUR YEARS, then silently reappeared as a member of an enemy organization? the absolute AUDACITY. no wonder chuuya threatened to kill him!

and then. and THEN. chuuya STILL uses corruption the next time they meet. WHAT.

and its because no matter how much bullshit chuuya puts up with, he KNOWS that dazai has his back when it really counts. even after ALL OF THAT, he still trusts dazai with his LIFE. ohhhhh my god i need to lie down. they make me ILL

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.19)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Nineteen) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,883 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Eighteen || Part Twenty || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Staring into the bathroom mirror, you wiped underneath your eyes at where your mascara had started to run. You were heartbroken and confused. What had you done wrong to make them want to give you away? You had been imagining then that Tony was becoming softer towards you and you had slowly started responding in like. It had been foolish of you to think you could find some sense of happiness living there, as if either of them actually cared. Tony had been acting weird as of late now that you thought about it more and Steve had stayed away. Like they had been planning to separate from you. And Tony fucking you last night… like it was the last hoorah before sending you off. And he could not be here to do it himself as Steve said. That made you more furious than anything else.

You should not be surprised; Johns lost their interest eventually. But you had let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You had told Tatiana yourself that they were just like all the others when you had been first whisked away to stay in the apartment. When had you let them wear down your wall?

“Stupid,” you whispered to yourself.

And now you found yourself stuck on a ship with another man who you had no idea what his real temperament was. You were starting all over again, stranded.

Your mind went to your apartment, all your things… Luna. You closed your eyes, trying not to think of everything that Steve had made you leave you behind this morning. It was too much, you needed to focus. Survive here and find out how that was going to be possible to do.

Since you had left your purse in Steve’s car – your ID and everything, fuck – you had left your makeup behind. You had essentially ruined your mascara, but your eyeliner still looked decent. You touched up your eyes with toilet paper before taking a few deep breaths.

A knock came at the door and you took a couple more moments to look at yourself before you tore yourself away from the counter.

<><><>

You were hunkered down in the speedboat, shaking still. It had stopped moving but you were not making any effort to move. Steve was talking to you, but you did not want to look at him, let alone focus on what he was saying. Your arm hurt where you had cut it and blood was running down your arm. Your opposite hand came to the blood, running your fingers over it before holding it out, staring down at it. It was deep red, wet.

Steve’s hands were at the necklace at your throat, and he unclasped it, taking it from you. “Here, Buck. Take that back to the office. It should be recorded. The evidence we need if anything comes up.”

“It was,” you heard Sam confirm.

Steve got up from beside you and moved around, coming to the other side where your injury was.

You felt a sharp sting and hissed, snapping out of your haze to jerk away from him. You took in his appearance; he was bloody, his hair disheveled. You had never seen him not looking pristine except for after the two of you had rolled around in the bed. He was wearing a dark suit, an actual stealth suit. You remembered you had seen him on the yacht, beating the shit out of some of the guys. He had been wearing it then.

Steve held tight and said, “Stay still, Y/N. I’m cleaning it!” Eyes moving down, you saw he was wiping at your cut with hydrogen peroxide. No wonder it was stinging. “I don’t think you need stitches which is a good thing. Did you get hurt anywhere else?”

Anywhere else? Of course you had! You wanted to scratch his face.

“You left me!” you said loudly, finally finding your voice. “You sold me!”

“Good to know that you can still talk. I thought we’d lost you there for a moment. But they’re dead, Perez included. Don’t worry about it,” Steve told you as he moved to grab gauze. He said firmly, “No one is coming for you. I wasn’t leaving you there permanently.”

He held it there before placing a large bandage wrap around your arm, securing it.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” he told you, standing up.

The two other men, including the one who had flown you off the boat – Sam? You recognized him from the press – were standing up in the boat, keeping an eye out. Steve tapped you to move and you glowered up at him.

“You can rot for all I care!” you snarled at him.

Steve rolled his eyes before swooping down and picking you up in a fluid motion. He slung you over his shoulder and you shouted in protest, hitting his back as he climbed out of the speedboat.

“Take it down the coast and leave it where we agreed,” he ordered the other two.

“You got it,” Sam said in response as you continuously hit Steve’s back.

“Y/N, you’re going to make yourself bleed more,” Steve said sounding annoyed as he started walking up the dock. You stared back at where they were in the boat, pulling back away. You hit him again and he ordered roughly, “I said stop it! You’re going to injure your arm more!”

You heard the sound of his car alarm beeping and he opened the door before placing you down. He held you firmly in place and said threateningly, “You’re going to sit in the car and we are going to go back to the apartment. Is that clear?” Your lips curled and his fingers dug into your shoulders. “Y/N.”

The apartment. Like you wanted to go back there. But at least you could have privacy there and lock him out. You just needed to endure a car ride with him. You got into the car, throwing your seatbelt on angrily as Steve closed the door and came around the other side.

The first part of the ride was silent, you staring at the window, trying to will yourself not to cry as the shock wore off and the impending feeling of helplessness came over you about the whole thing. You had not had any control over any part of that situation, tossed back and forth like a rag doll and kept in the dark apparently if what Steve said was true about not meaning to leave you there for real.

Where was your purse? You thought suddenly.

You looked around before turning to look into the backseat, spotting it on the ground next to the briefcase he had taken. Steve noticed you looking at it and he finally spoke.

“Think about the money you got today. That put a huge dent in what you owe. Huge dent.”

Turning a hateful eye at him, you scowled. That is what he wanted you to think about? Money? And acting as if you had earned it knowingly?

“Stop talking to me,” you snapped, scooting further away from him, up against your door. You turned away from him as far as you could to put your back to him.

“That’s what would be the smart thing to do, Y/N,” Steve continued on. “Focus on that goal of yours to pay it off.”

Tears welled up and you told him, sniveling, “I don’t care about that! How… how could you think about that right now?” Steve started to speak but you unwound yourself, throwing your hands out. “No! You used me! You threw me to the wolves! I could’ve been hurt! Did you even stop to think about that?”

“You were helping out SHIELD,” Steve said as if that was supposed to mean anything.

“Then use a fucking SHIELD agent!” you exclaimed, your voice strangled.

“I couldn’t. There were none that would not rouse suspicion. You have been seen with me and Tony. They know you’re the real deal.”

“You could have at least, I don’t know, fucking told me!”

“It needed to seem authentic.”

You stared at him, aghast. You gasped, “Authentic? You needed my fear to be authentic?” Steve said nothing and your vision blurred with angry tears. “Well, I’m glad you got what you fucking needed! Good for you!”

Turning away from him again, you clenched your jaw so tightly you thought your teeth would crack. You just wanted to get away from him.

<><><>

Over his Bluetooth, Tony saw that Daryl was calling him and he immediately picked up. “Daryl?”

Daryl said, “She’s back. So just giving you a call like you asked.”

“Is Steve with her?” Tony asked him, switching lanes, needing to turn around and head back the opposite way on the highway.

“Yeah, they’re getting into the elevator,” Daryl answered before he added, “I don’t know what happened, but she looks terrible.”

Tony demanded, “How do you mean terrible?” Under his breath he hissed, “Move, you piece of shit!” at this car that was going far too slow for his liking.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m talking to some fucking jerk off who doesn’t know how to drive. How do you mean she looks terrible?” The worst was coming to his mind, thinking of how she looked after that asshole ex of her had had his way with her.

“Definitely been crying. She’s got a bandage on her arm. She’s keeping her distance from Mr. Rogers. Should I follow them up?”

Shaking his head as he took a left off the highway to head back to the onramp going east, Tony said firmly, “No. I’m on my way. Let me know if he leaves.”

“Sir?” Daryl asked, confused.

“Let me know if Steve leaves,” Tony repeated. “And if he does, ask him where he’s going. If you can catch him.”

Daryl sounded concerned when he said, “Okay… you got it.”

“Great,” Tony said curtly before hanging up the call, and merging onto the highway, squeaking his way into the left lane, cutting someone off, who honked. He paid them no mind as he cut someone else off in the right lane, weaving his way through the slower drivers.

<><><>

Y/N had stormed down the hallway without words, only a choked sob leaving her throat. She went into the bedroom, slamming the door closed, and he heard the lock fall into place. Steve sighed heavily, stopping in the hall himself, debating about trying to get her to open the door. But, he had tried to talk to her in the car and she was not interested. Give her space, that is what his gut told him. At that though, he turned on his heel, walking back towards the front door.

Steve beckoned Terrence from down the hall and when he approached, Steve said, “Stay in here. She’s in the bedroom, doors locked. Make sure she doesn’t do anything reckless. And don’t take any drinks from her.”

“Learned my lesson last time. And what do you mean by reckless?”

“Anything past chugging down some shots if she comes out here,” Steve told him, adjusting his watch on his wrist. He shook his arm out and said, “Tony will be here soon, I’m sure. And then he can take over for you. I just don’t want her being left alone right now in the state she’s in. Make sure to check in on her every once in awhile until Tony gets here though. Knock on the door, make sure you get a verbal confirmation.”

“If she’s sleeping…?”

“I think she’s too rattled to sleep, Terrence. But doors are easily replaced if you feel the need to kick the handle in if she’s not responding.”

Terrence shrugged, “Alright.”

“Thanks,” Steve said before reaching for his keys and swiping them off the counter. “I’m counting on you.”

On his way out of the lobby, Daryl approached him. “Is everything okay?”

“It’ll be fine. Y/N just had a rough go and she just needs some space to come down,” Steve answered.

“You’re leaving her though? Where are you going?”

Steve eyed him and said, “Yeah… I’m leaving. Terrence has it handled. He’s keeping an eye on her.” He saw the look on Daryl’s face and Steve snorted. “I told him to not take any drinks. The man learned his lesson. Anyways, Y/N is pouting in her bedroom and I don’t think she’s going to come out for a while. So, he’s got it under control. I need to go back and finish the debriefing for the mission. Get yourself something to eat, you look jittery.”

With that, he left Daryl standing there.

<><><>

“He’s gone,” Daryl said, meeting Tony’s stride when Tony came into the lobby, practically speed walking.

Tony swore under his breath before asking, “Did you talk to him?”

Daryl nodded, “Yeah, for a moment. He said Y/N’s pouting in the bedroom, Terrence is in the apartment to keep an eye out. And he said something about having to go debrief the mission?” Tony stopped at the mention of that on a dime, stopping to face Daryl. Daryl looked back at him nervously at the murderous look on Tony’s face. “He didn’t say anything past that.”

Letting out an angry growl, Tony shook his head before exhaling sharply, “Thank you. That helps.”

Tony entered the apartment, finding Terrence sitting at the dining table, messing around on his phone. He looked up, hearing Tony enter, and said, “I checked on her a few minutes ago like Mr. Rogers asked me to continue doing. She’s still hysterical as all hell, but she responded.”

Furious, Tony shook his head, snarling, “What the hell did he do?” Terrence looked confused by the question and Tony purposely ignored it, not wanting to deal with all the bullshit going on between him and Steve at present.

Tony tried to open the bedroom door, but it was locked. For the umpteenth time today, he sighed angrily and said through the door, “Y/N. Open the door.”

“No!” she shouted out back at him.

He had been here before and this time Steve was not here to stop him from entering the bedroom. Although, this time he was going to have tact about it. He went back down the hall to the kitchen and grabbed a butterknife from the silverware. He was worried and he was not about to just leave her in there by herself. He unlocked the door with ease, much to Y/N’s fury.

“Stay out!” she snapped at him, sitting up, the blankets falling to her waist. She looked a sight, her makeup having left black underneath her eyes, trails running down her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and red.

Tony ignored what she said, coming into the room, and closing the door behind him.

<><><>

Of course Tony knew how to pick a lock. That was preschool shit to him. And of course he was not listening to you; when did either of them ever? The sight of him infuriated you.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you snarled as he came over to the bed. He was approaching with caution. He sat on the edge of the bed and that was still way too close. “Tony, get out!”

Tony’s eyes fell to the bandage on your arm, and he started to reach for it. You were gone in the blink of an eye, startling him in the process. You did not want him touching any part of you.

“Don’t touch me!” you sneered at him, pulling away from him, wrapped up in the sheets. They prevented you from moving any further and you sat defensively, hands planted by your hips.

Tony held up his hands, keeping his distance. He sunk back down to sit more on the opposite side of the large bed. He was keeping his eyes trained on you, like he was afraid you were going to lunge either at him or away.

“What happened?” he asked evenly.

You let out a bark of a laugh. What was he playing at? “Are you serious right now? What do you think happened? You two and your stupid little plan! You left me! You let him take me because you…  you’re a fucking coward!”

He looked at a loss. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut up!” you snapped back at him, furious he was trying to act oblivious and wash his hands of it. “I’m tired of playing games with you two! When are you going to let me go?” Tears welled up at that, all over again. You were tired of crying over men. Especially men who had no regard for your well being.

Tony ticked his jaw, studying your face. Your chest was heaving with your anger; you were sure you looked rabid, like a cornered animal. And that is how you felt, truly. He scooted an inch towards you, and you leaned back causing him to still his movement again, an angry sigh leaving his lips.

He fought to keep his voice calm and even as he said, “Y/N. I really, really have no idea what you are talking about. And I would like you to explain it to me. Where did Steve take you?”

You searched his face accusingly, trying to find the crack in his façade of innocence. But you were met with the worry in his eyes, despite his tranquil tone, and you realized that maybe he was being serious. He seemed to really not know what had transpired. Still, you kept a wall up, thinking perhaps he was putting up a good front; they had both ruined your trust at this point. You would tell him what happened, play his game, but you were going to be watching him like a hawk.

Wiping at your eyes, you spat, “The docks. He sold me!”

“Excuse me?” Tony asked, unable to hide the venom behind his voice.

“But he wasn’t really selling me, turns out. Spoiler alert.” You gave a humorless laugh, wiping at more tears that had started to spill over. “He came here and made me get dressed up and rushed me out the door. Saying he had to go to a meeting. When we got there, he was selling me to this guy and getting money for a shipment. He… he left me there! With all these men I didn’t know. And he said you knew and you both were tired of me, that I wasn’t new anymore.” You were watching Tony grow more and more furious, like he was bursting at the seams. And it only encouraged you to go on.

“The guy who bought me, Perez, I don’t know. He was trying to be accommodating but I hated him, I could already tell. He wasn’t kind, he was donning a mask. I know men well enough to pick up on that. I… fuck,” you said, tearfully. Tony was keeping his distance still, listening with rapt attention. You shook your head, “I was sitting next to him and he was touching me. And all of a sudden, there were just b-bullets flying. I got thrown to the ground and my arm caught on the corner of the table. It was loud and I didn’t know what was going on. Then S-Sam? I think that’s his name. The one with the wings. One of your Avengers.”

Recognition flashed across Tony’s face you saw at the name and description.

“He grabbed me and took off from the boat. I hate heights. I hate them. And he dropped me back on this boat that was just floating out in the water before leaving me there by myself. There was a lot of shit going on on the yacht that I could see from where I was.” You sighed shakily. “I don’t know. They came back eventually. Steve, Sam, and that metal armed guy. They were covered in blood. And it’s… I was back in the car…” You were starting to lose steam at all the explosion of emotion you had been emanating and reliving the chaos. “Steve told me… told me that I had made money to go towards my debt to you guys. And I should be happy about that. But he didn’t tell me anything! I thought… I thought he was leaving me there. And that I had done s-something wrong!”

You caught Tony’s eyes again. He was staring at you, flabbergasted, his lips parted in shock. His head shook ever so slightly, and you crumbled then, seeing the stricken look on his face at what you were telling him. Like it was all new to him and he was horrified. He had not betrayed you like Steve had said. Your bottom lip warbled, and you threw yourself across the bed at him and he caught you clumsily. Your fingers dug into his back and you broke down into sobs into his shoulder.

Tony’s arms came around you, his grip tight, one hand at the back of your head.

“I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong!” you wailed, it muffled into his collar.

You stayed embraced, Tony’s hand at your back rubbing. He kissed the side of your head and said quietly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.” And that only made you cry more. “I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know. I… I don’t know what he was thinking.”

He really had not known. Steve had lied to you about that too. He had snuck in and taken you away with Tony was not here. You could not help but to think about how it would have been different if he had been here. You probably would not have gone at all. Your fingers dug in again into Tony’s back.

When your cries began to subside as your energy began to wane, Tony started to pull away and you looked up at him worriedly, “Don’t leave!”

“I’m not going to. I’m just gonna go out to the kitchen. You… would you like to rest?” You sniffled, your brow stitched. “Tylenol PM, love. I think sleep will do you well. I promise I won’t leave while you sleep. But I think it’ll help. What do you think?” You whimpered quietly and he said reassuringly, “It’ll help.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you let him pull away. You grabbed your blankets, holding them tight as he walked out of the room, silence filling the space where he had been.

When he came back, he held out the pills and the glass of water to you. You took the pills from him and swallowed them readily. He was right, sleep would do you well. You just wanted to escape whatever you were feeling right now. The water went down too and you handed him back the cup. You watched him place it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, anxiously waiting for him to come back.

Tony kicked his shoes off and pulled off his suit jacket, tossing it on the end of the bed.

You curled up next to him the moment he was there and focused on your breathing. You were trying to keep the anxiousness back at bay, just willing sleep to overcome and do it soon.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part TWENTY-THREE

Here’s the previous post and

HERE is a supplementary post that went right before this and which is relevant!!

This was so late because I slept most of the day on Tuesday.

WARNING for some fantasy horror coming up; but if you can handle Gravity Falls you'll be fine!

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

[Image Descriptions: Princess Hilda is walking down a long hallway, her long black hair, her long cape and her long dress sweeping behind her.  She notices a conversation in a nearby room that piques her curiosity; the first part is unintelligible but the part she catches is "Lost MOST of my crew."  Princess Hilda goes to the door and puts a hand on it to open it further.  "Lord Serenumbra," she says, face placid and regal, "Is everything QUITE all right-" she cuts herself off.  In the room are Serenumbra with his hands behind his back calmly, the Scarred Woman and the Burly Man in less than happy attitudes, and between them- Princess Zelda, tied to a chair, her mouth gagged. Princess Zelda gives Hilda a pleading look, as someone says "Ah, your highness, just in time."  Hilda can't hear them over the sound of her own horror.  "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" she demands, rushing forward.  The Scarred Woman and the Burly Man seem surprised, as she hurries to Zelda and pulls the gag off her face, letting her spit a piece of cloth into Hilda's hand.  "Oh dear," Hilda says, "Yes, spit it out, dear."  The Scarred Woman and the Burly Man give an angry stare in Serenumbra's direction.  "...You mean Princess Hilda didn't KNOW?" the Scarred Woman asks. Serenumbra hums as if he's surprised to be spoken to.  He strokes his chin thoughtfully.  "Did I ever say she DID?" he asks.  The Scarred Woman, furious, shouts, "You conniving slimy little GHOUL RAT!" and pulls a knife to point at Serenumbra's chest.  Hilda yelps and puts herself more in between Zelda and the others in the room, while Zelda mostly just looks angry. "Give me ONE GOOD REASON we shouldn't take you into the GARDENS and GUT YOU FOR THE PIGS!" the Scarred Woman demands, gesturing with the knife. Serenumbra touches the heavy pendant on his chest, specifically the disc meant to represent the Moon Pearl.  "Hmm, if you insist," he says. The disc begins to glow, then floods the room with blue light.  It is, in fact, the actual Moon Pearl.  The Scarred Woman and the Burly Man grimace as the light engulfs them; Hilda presses her forehead against Zelda's and puts a hand up to shield their eyes, both girls gritting their teeth and screwing their eyes shut tight as possible. As the light recedes, Hilda claps a hand to her mouth in horrified terror and Zelda grimaces in horrified disgust. "Now then, your highnesses," Serenumbra says with a cheerful smile.  The camera pans to show what's become of the Scarred Woman and the Burly Man: She has been transformed into a terrified fox.  He has been transformed into a disembodied hand with one horrified eye in the palm.  One of their masks has landed on the floor beside them.  Serenumbra continues: "THIS WILL ALL GO MUCH EASIER IF YOU COOPERATE." Hilda repositions herself around Zelda protectively once more, and demands, "COOPERATE?!  What are you TALKING about, what are you even trying to DO?!"  Serenumbra gives her a friendly smile.  "Why, I'm going to TRANSFER THE TRIFORCE OF WISDOM from Princess Zelda to YOU, of course." The tears of terror on Hilda's face are ruining her makeup, but she's now as furious as she is afraid.  She throws her arms around Zelda.  "WHAT?!  That's CRAZY!!" she yells.  Zelda looks to the side, thinking about the fact that the Triforce of Wisdom is back home with her mother.  "For more reasons than ONE," she mutters anxiously.  Serenumbra smiles and the Moon Pearl glows, lighting his face from below.  "Oh, Hilda," he says.  "YOU'LL THANK ME EVENTUALLY."  End ID.]

This is the one place I'm worried people will shout "plot hole!! Why doesn't he check Princess Zelda's hand!!"  The answer is that he's so sure he's right about her having it that he wouldn't even listen if she waved her hand in his face.  

Anyway I like Serenumbra as a villain he's creepy as fuck.

Claimed

Summary: An intruder enters the territory of Chan and his pack, attacking people and causing havoc. Seemingly by chance he saves a victim that turns out to be his mate, but as fate would have it, he happens to be a wolf at the time. How will he protect her, come clean, and claim his mate?

Word count: 8.2k

Content warnings: slightly dark themes, a werewolf serial killer who is a vindictive asshole, impregnation kink, marking, minor descriptions of violence, sort of stalking, sort of possessive behavior. Some cursing.

Music: Come Out by Lenise Morales and War of Hearts by Ruelle

“Come on, boy,” she said, patting her leg and holding out the leash. “Let’s go on a walk before it gets too late.” Chan hopped up off his round dog bed near the couch, wagging his tail as he came to her. He sat patiently, turning his head to let her reach the leather collar she had put on his neck. Jesus, his pack mates would be in hysterics if they saw him like this, he thought to himself. But he could have endured the embarrassment for her.

How had he ended up like this? Really, it was a mix of destiny and bad luck on  both of their parts. He honestly never thought he would meet his mate when he was in his wolf form and hurt on top of it. Fights weren’t something he got into that often and something he avoided when he could, but that night three months ago he had caught that piece of shit lone wolf stalking her.

Why the loner had picked her, he had no idea, but Chan had to be grateful in some ways. How long would it have been before he ran across her if not for that? Jesus, what if he had gotten there too late? He didn’t want to think about it.

That night he had been sent to track the interloper that had been causing havoc in their territory. He was the first of the pack to actually find him, which must have been luck since Minho was generally the best tracker and Changbin a close second. They had taken the two days before and barely missed catching him at the no-tell motel he had been staying at and at some restaurant where he had mauled some poor woman heading home after her shift. Changbin had been furious with himself for not tracking him fast enough and had been the one to find her bloodied and crying near the back door of the restaurant. He had shifted back to human and called 911, telling them he had been passing by when he heard her crying, a plausible enough story not to raise any suspicion. Besides as far as anyone involved knew, it was a rabid dog attack… a massive rabid dog.

Tracking was exhausting work and got shared amongst all the members of the pack. The third night had been his job and he had taken a neighborhood near the one he had been stalking, suspecting he had moved his hunting grounds but not that far. His hunch had been right, but it was pure luck that he had come across the scent of the intruder as he patrolled, just hoping to catch some hint, some clue.

That whiff had pulled him down an alley and into the strip mall parking lot of the craft store. For the life of him, he could not figure out why on earth he would pick this sort of place. The parking lot was half empty since most of the stores were already closed… except the big hobby shop. The sodium orange lights of the parking lot had flickered and buzzed, bothering his sensitive senses and it must have done the same for the lone wolf… so why on earth would he choose to hunt here.

Chan had spotted him, in human form, leaning casually on a planter half a dozen meters from the entrance to the store taking a drag on a hand rolled cigarette. He had let out an involuntary huffing sneeze, hating the smell as it drifted to him. That had given him away. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense that he was a fellow werewolf, no dog would have been wandering around alone in a parking lot here, like this, at this hour.

“I’m surprised you found me, rover,” the loner had chuckled, self-satisfied and amused. “I would have let you guys be, but you couldn’t just let me hunt a little.” Chan had growled as he watched him stand up, letting the shadows and flickering lights obscure his face as he pulled himself into a standing position. He had moved fast, charging at Chan and drawing a knife just before he got within an arm's length of him. Chan dodged but not fast enough, and the knife caught him in the ribs, grazing over a couple of them before he could dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Fuck,” the man yelled, punching Chan in the jaw to force him to let go. Stars sparkled in his vision and pain sliced through him as the knife slid along his collarbone and upper leg. He had gotten one last swipe in before retreating, leaving Chan bloodied and limping.

A safe place to shift was what he had needed, there surely would have been someplace nearby, a little alcove or alley between a couple of the shops, but before he could get very far, she had stepped out of the store, locking up and leaving for the night.  Chan froze. He had been slinking away, slowly trying to get out of view, but was still very clearly in view when she had stepped out. His pain had blinded him to other sensations at first, but even before she turned and saw him, it hit him like a freight train.

Mine the sensation said with a ferocity he had never felt before. Why he had to find his mate like this, he had no idea. He wasn’t particularly unlucky. He didn’t spend tons of time as a wolf either. His pack was pretty chill and was pretty careful to stay below the radar. Their territory was safe and they were known for not being overly territorial, letting people pass through without a problem so long as they left and didn’t make problems. So how he ran across her while he was shifted and injured was just stupidly bad luck.

She had gasped when she finally turned around and saw him, but who wouldn’t when they turned around to see a massive dog behind them limping and bleeding. A moment’s fear had shot through her at the sight until Chan had whimpered, flattening himself on the pavement to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey puppy,” she said softly, putting out her hand for him to sniff as she leaned down, slowly coming closer. “Can I take a look at you?”

Yes please, he thought, rolling gently onto his uninjured side.

“What on earth happened to you… boy?” She asked, catching sight of his belly. “I don’t suppose you are going to make this easy on me and would just get in my car if I brought it around?” She sighed and patted his head. Rubbing his head into her hand, he rolled back over and pulled himself up to stand again. “Maybe you can just come with me, hmmm?” Standing up, she started to move towards her car, keeping an eye on him as he slowly limped behind her. She opened the back door to her car and patted the seat, inviting him to hop in, which he did quite happily. “Well at least that was easy.” She observed, closing the door behind him as he laid down on the back seat. “Now we just have to go spend my whole paycheck at the emergency vets.”

Sorry, he said to her in his head. I’ll pay you back when I can. Pain pulsed through him as the city lights swished over him in the back seat. The emergency vet clinic was only a half an hour away but that was way longer than he would have ever wanted to have to lay bleeding in the backseat of a car. In fact, he really was sure he could have gone his whole damn life without knowing what that felt like.

He was tough, he was the alpha of the group, though he didn’t enforce a hard hierarchy like some did. They were more family than anything else. They looked out for each other, did their part, contributed in any way that they could. It worked well for them and everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It was just his job to be the final voice when decisions needed to be made or to speak for the group when dealing with outsiders.

“Can you get up, pup?” She asked when she opened the door in the parking lot of the vet’s office. Chan nodded, though it probably didn’t look like it, what with being a dog and all, and stood up on slightly shaky limbs. Thank god they were close, he thought to himself as he stepped out the door and onto the pavement.

“I need some help please,” she said as they stepped through the automatic sliding door of the clinic.

“Oh my god,” the woman behind the counter said when she caught sight of him, picking up the phone on the desk and hitting a couple of buttons. “Doctor West we need you in reception now please, and bring whoever is back there to help.” She hung up the phone and dashed out from behind the desk. “What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said looking down at Chan as she kept a hand on his head. “I was just coming out of work and found him like this in the parking lot. Maybe he got cut getting out of a yard or went through a window or something?”

The receptionist had shrugged, it seemed like as good an explanation as any. They had taken him back, stitched him up and scanned him for an ID chip, which, shocker, he didn’t have. With no one else seemingly accountable for him, she had decided to take him home, saying she would try and find his owners. For now, she would pay for the vet bills and she just had to hope whoever owned him would pay her back. Though honestly, given the shape he was in, she wasn’t holding out hope there was someone, or at least someone responsible.

That was how he had ended up here and stuck in his canine form way more than he was used to. The one upside was that he was with her. She had spent a couple of weeks hanging up posters with his picture, but eventually just decided to adopt him herself, leaving him in the weirdest bind he could imagine.

The first few days he had stayed just because everything hurt too much to do anything else. I’ll change back soon, he told himself, I just need the stitches to heal a little first. Then one evening when she came home he could smell him and cigarettes on her and his heart had clenched. The loner had been there for her? For his mate? At that moment, that realization he had a feeling he never would have thought possible. Thank god I was the one that got stabbed. That had settled it. He had to be there, he had to stay and protect her, at least until the intruder was caught.

Not long after that he had shifted when she was off at work, finally getting in touch with his pack. After the understandable chewing out he let Jisung give him since he had basically disappeared without a word for DAYS, he explained what had happened and told him to pick someone to shadow her while she was out or at work. Jisung agreed, letting out a low whistle at the story and the news that he had found his mate. Chan left the details to him and the others, still not feeling even 50% if he had to be honest. He trusted them and for now, he was stuck.

Now it had been three months and the loner was still on the loose and still in their territory. They had no idea why and he had only attacked one person since that night. Now and again, when she came home from work, he would smell him on her, and still other times, he would catch the smell of the loner when they walked through the neighborhood. But it was never enough, never that fresh, and he had no idea how he was flitting around so close yet so far.

Jisung had the brilliant idea of getting one of them hired to work with her at the craft store. Chan had to admit, it had been a good idea, it kept someone close, but it probably wouldn’t have been the solution he would have wanted. Smelling Changbin on her every night when she came home from work rankled him an unbelievable amount, despite the fact that he knew nothing was happening with them. But between smelling his pack mate and the loner on her, and being unable to do anything with her aside from pretending to be her pet was going to drive him mad.

How on earth was he supposed to tell her who he really was? Buck also couldn’t just disappear. And yes, she had named him after the dog in Call of the Wild which was both adorable and painful. She was attached to him...just the wrong him. He needed to come clean but, aside from breaking to her that werewolves existed at all, something that would most likely freak her out, saying, surprise (!) you know that dog you’ve been letting sleep in your bed and changing in front of… well, he’s actually a guy. Because, you know, that would go over really well.

So that was how he ended up on the end of her leash, heading out for a walk. If he didn’t have to do this as a dog and have to make a show of going to the bathroom on these walks, he would be far happier. It was nice being out with her, he just wanted to be able to do it as a person, maybe holding her hand, though he might have tolerated a collar and leash if she really liked it for some reason.

Chan walked ahead of her, scenting the air as they made their evening loop of the neighborhood. All seemed well and normal for the most part, at least for the first half of the walk. But as they made the turn that would head them back towards home the scent of the loner drifted across their path. Chan stopped, causing her to bump into him and make a little sound of surprise as she accidentally stepped on one of his back feet.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” She asked, looking in the direction he was looking. “Did you see something?” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer and, after pausing for a few seconds, she moved past him, trying to snap him into moving again. Chan stepped in front of her, preventing her from going as he tried to place where the scent was coming from. “Come on, boy, I want to go home.”

I know, he said mentally, willing for her to understand him. Trust me, me too. Suddenly he saw it, the shape of another of his kind skulking on the other side of a cinder block wall. It’s dark chestnut fur moved slightly in the breeze as the animal stayed stock still. In a split second, it dashed back behind the wall and Chan gave chase. He pulled his leash out of her hand, sending a mental apology to her, and immediately gave chase. He couldn’t let this just keep going on. She called out his name, well the name she had given him, as he disappeared behind the wall, giving chase.

Quick as a flash, he saw the tail disappear around the back of the house on the other side of the block wall. He skidded around the corner, keeping the scent trail of the intruder under his nose. The chase led him through alleys and back yards as they ran and dodged. Finally he saw him disappear over a high fence and Chan lept after him, feeling like he was finally gaining on him.

When he landed he heard a snap and knew immediately that he had made a mistake. A sharp pain shot through his front leg. It had all been a plan, been a trap to get him here, to get him trapped… and to leave her alone. He had never really felt as stupid as he did right now. He finally gathered the will to look down at his leg to see it clasped in a leg hold trap, cut and bleeding, but thankfully not broken, probably by sheer luck. He couldn’t run like this and he had to get back to her.

With a gulp, he changed back, needing the dexterity of human hands to get out of the contraption. It pinched harder, stinging his nerves as his leg turned into an arm, thickening in the vice like grip. It took him a moment to stop seeing stars and then another to figure out how to press down the sides of the trap to open it. When he was finally free, he looked around. He had to get out but running around naked and bleeding was a great way to get the cops called on him.

Making his way to the edge of the neighboring yard, he looked over the wall to see laundry hanging on a line outside. He hopped over the wall and took a t-shirt and some pants, promising to try to remember to bring them back when he could. Once he was dressed, he ran. He ran towards where he had left her; ran like his life depended on it. Ran because hers probably did. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed back to where he had left her.

Suddenly he heard a scream rend the air and he felt his whole body go cold. So stupid, he berated himself as he willed his body to move faster. Turning the corner a couple of blocks from where he had left her alone, he saw her… and him. The loner had cornered her against a fence in the front yard of some house, a hand around her throat and a knife pressed against her ribs. Without a second thought, Chan rushed forward with a guttural growl. The loner heard him and turned. Momentarily distracted from her, he didn’t notice when she jerked herself down, loosening his grip enough on her neck to fall in the direction opposite the knife he held on her. With his attention torn between two people now, Chan had the upper hand and wrestled him away from her.

“Run,” Chan commanded her as he tackled the loner to the ground. They rolled and grappled like gladiators, vying for dominance, both ignoring her. Something that turned out to be a mistake on the part of the loner. Just as he rolled on top, pinning Chan by gripping his injured arm, she rushed toward them, picking up the dropped knife and driving it into his back. The loner let out a rage filled scream and rolled away from them both as he changed back into his wolf form. Running away as quickly as he could manage and disappearing into the neighborhood.

“Are you okay,” Chan asked, getting up and grasping her upper arms. Her face was a mask of shock, eyes wide and not really seeing anything. “Look at me. Tell me that you are okay.”

“I have to find my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing around them, yet she didn’t pull away. “I think he tried to chase that thing away. He ran off and I need to make sure he’s okay… he was already hurt and…”

“I’m okay,” Chan said to her, giving her a little shake to get her attention. “I’m Buck. You found me in a parking lot and saved me. It’s me.” Her eyes snapped to his face and she went white. “I was following him that night, trying to figure why he was here. That’s how I got hurt, but that’s how I found you.”

“You were looking for me, too?” She shrank back, her eyes searching for something in his face.

“No, but,” Chan sighed. He needed to come clean but this wasn’t the place. Not in the open, not in someone else’s yard. “Let’s go home. Please. Can we talk there?”

“Home?” She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Your home,” he corrected. “Just, let me explain. Give me a chance.”

She looked down at the arms that were holding her, finally noticing his cut arm. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” he let go of her arms, trying to hide his injury a little.

“Let me take care of it,” she offered timidly. “Then we can talk.” Chan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. With a nod he led them both back to the house, keeping a gentle hand on her wrist as they walked. He needed the assurance that she was there, that she was safe.

She followed, letting him take the lead, slightly unsettled by how well he knew the way to her house. Part of her still didn’t believe him. But then again, she had just seen a man change into a dog or… wolf maybe, and she couldn’t explain that. She had never seen him before and yet he knew her dog, he knew where she lived, he had saved her. She wasn’t 100% sure, but something told her to trust him.

When they got to her house, she let them in and Chan pulled her inside, locking the door behind them before tucking her behind him as he scanned the room and tested the air inside the house for anything amiss. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he stepped further into the living room and headed towards the bathroom to care for his arm. He really knows where everything is, she thought as she watched him head there without hesitation. Stepping up to the sink he started running warm water, dipping his arm under the spigot to rinse it. He hissed as the water hit the wound, a tingling pain shooting outwards from it.

“Here,” she stepped up beside him, dampening her hands and lathering them so she could gently wash his wound. Chan sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I appreciate you helping me. I owe you my life twice over now.”

“Seems like both times it was because of me anyway so…” she didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on what her hands were doing.

“It’s not your fault,” Chan soothed. “We should have gotten him out of here long ago. He just… he keeps slipping away.”

“So what are you?” She asked as she patted his skin dry with a towel. 

“Werewolf,” he replied softly. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and pulled some gauze and tape out of the cabinet behind her. Kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the toilet, she spread some anti-infection cream over one of the wounds before putting gauze over it and taping it down. She did the same with the other side, then wrapped both with a sports wrap to keep it secure on his arm.

“What’s your name?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Chan,” he replied gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My name is Chan.”

“That fits better than Buck,” she gave him a nervous smile and laugh.

“God I love hearing my name on your lips,” he admitted. He leaned forward hesitantly, giving her a chance to pull away, taking her lips with a gentle firmness. She tasted like heaven, even better than he had dreamed those nights when he lay beside her in bed pretending to be her pet.

What am I doing, she asked herself, feeling a fuzzy, intoxication filling her brain as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue darted out against her bottom lip, begging her to open to him. Why did he taste so good, she wondered as she shivered under his touch. He was hardly the first guy she had kissed but he felt different and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know him at all, despite the fact he seemed to have been living in her house for months.

“Love, I… I need,” Chan pulled back and stepped away from her. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry,” she leaned back, not meeting his eyes, wiping her lips to try and erase the distracting sensations.

“No, don’t apologize,” he soothed, reaching out to her. “I just need—” he broke off. “I need you to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” she asked him, frustration coursing through her.

“You’re mine,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I knew it the moment I saw you that you were supposed to be mine. I protect what’s mine. But I need you to choose me. I can wait. I can send someone else to stay here and protect you. Just… I need it to be your choice because once I have you. I’m not letting you go.”

She should have been afraid, she should have made him leave and run as far as she could as fast as she could. But something in her trusted him. No that wasn’t strong enough. Something said he was right, they were a part of each other.

“Okay,” she nodded as much as she could, still restricted by his hands on her face.

“What?” He asked, his eyes searching hers, trying to divine what she was saying.

“I understand,” Her hands came up to loosely grip his wrists, guiding his hands down from her face. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his.

“Wait,” Chan took a step back, having to use all his willpower to do so. “You’re sure?” She nodded and his will broke. It had taken so much of him to pull away, to do the right thing. He hadn’t expected her to accept him and what he was. With a desperate hunger, he smashed his lips into hers as he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He already knew the place well enough he didn’t have to take his lips from hers as he took them both to her room. He tossed her onto the bed and crawled in over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He was pure muscle as he pressed himself against her, she could feel it even through the odd mismatched clothing he was still wearing.

“Chan,” she breathed when he shifted to kiss along her cheek.

“Say it again,” he groaned, grinding himself against her. “Say my name.”

“Chan,” her hand tangled in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back, only long enough to strip off the shirt and to slip the borrowed jeans off his hips. He covered her still clothed body with his, drawing her arms around his neck. She moaned underneath him, parting her thighs to let him settle between them.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” she pointed out.

“I can fix that,” he grinned, rolling them both over. With hurried hands he pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra before sliding it off her arms and tossing it across the room. His pupils widened as he took in her bare breasts. They looked soft and inviting and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to cup them. She giggled and covered his hands with hers. Sliding backwards off him, she unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan propped himself up on his elbows and took all of her in with his gaze. Her hands lifted to cover herself and he sat up, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Don’t hide…” he blushed slightly as he admitted it, “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her down to straddle him, running his hand over her waist and thighs.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to his as his hands wandered over her body. He had thought about this moment for months. Being so near her and having her not notice him, not see him had been killing him. So close, yet so far. Every night when she changed for bed, he had done his best not to stare as she stripped and put on her pajamas, only peeking a few times. Everytime she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into his fur as she went to sleep. He had wanted to change, to confess, to throw himself on her.

Now he had her holding him as his human hands wandered over her soft curves and it was even better than he had dreamed. She smelled like heaven. Like the forest in summer and fields of wildflowers. He wanted to take her in every way possible. Kissing along the side of her neck, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing her body against his tightly. He wanted to taste her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He knew why. It wasn’t that he wanted to eat her. The bite would mark her as his to any other wolf that might cross her path. It would meld them together according to their customs and the rules of the pack. The mark would claim her as his alone and give her the protection of the pack.

Breathing deeply, he fought the urge. He needed to do this right. I’m not an animal, he reminded himself, rolling over and moving them both to the center of the bed. Her pleasure had to come first.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. “I just want you to feel me.” She looked into his eyes for a second before nodding and closing her eyes as she laid on the bed beside him. Kissing her lips, he tasted her with a slow and lazy sense of leisure, reminding them both they had all night. He licked and nibbled at her lower lip, letting out an involuntary whine as he asked her to open to him. She parted her lips and let him in, still allowing him to set the pace, to guide her. His tongue thrust into her mouth with a hungry confidence. He devoured her like a sweet dessert, enjoying her taste with a slow deliberation. As he did, one hand played lightly over her chest and collarbone. His touch was as light a feather, teasing her with the contrast of sensations.

Leaving her lips, he slid himself down her body, dragging his lips and tongue over her neck to the center of her chest. He could hear her heart beating under her delicate rib cage, fluttering like a wounded bird. The sound stirred the animal inside him. Was she afraid? Her scent tickled his nose telling him that she was mostly aroused but underneath it was a faint sliver of fear. It wasn’t a fear of him, or at least not a real fear of him. It was the type of fear that makes a rollercoaster fun or that tickles your stomach when you stand near the precipice of a mountain and take in the wonder of the view. That frisson of a potential danger that was entirely unlikely, but not impossible. Looking up her body, he saw her bite her lip in anticipation of… something, of him.

He slid between her legs and moved lower on her body. He kissed and nipped at the flesh of her belly; so soft and vulnerable. The wolf in him loved that she trusted his teeth there. His wolf could have ripped that flesh with such ease and the fact that she trusted him like this made pleasure rippled through him. Moving lower, he settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I taste you?” He asked, nuzzling against her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hands fisted around the blanket beneath her.

“Show me what you like,” he instructed, licking a line up the slit of her body. “Let me know how to please you.” She nodded, her hands fidgeting with anticipation. “Baby girl, you can look at me now.”

Opening her eyes, she looked down the line of her body to see his hungry eyes fixed on her. Chan’s hand reached up to take hers as he held her hips down with the other, keeping eye contact as he made a testing thrust of his tongue into her. She gasped and squeezed his hand. Satisfaction settled in his chest and he threw himself into pleasing her as he read her body. He licked and nipped and sucked at her until she came apart underneath him with a strangled cry. She was beautiful and he had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.

He needed to take her, to fill her with his seed until he was sure she would bare his child. An image of her, round with child, floated through his mind. Yes, the wolf inside him growled, take her. Chan slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance as he pulled her into a kiss. She could taste herself on him as he stole her breath.

“Are you ready for me, baby girl?” He asked, brushing hair off her face.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes hazy as she looked up at him. “Please, I want you in me.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” He admitted, coaxing her thighs around his hips. “Have you… done this before?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hold back. Holding her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes as he curled his hips into hers with a slow deliberation. He watched as her face filled with wonder at the feel of his invasion. When he was finally seated fully inside her, he paused, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body stretched to accommodate him. It was like she was built to hold him.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“God, yes, please,” she nodded, digging her nails into the skin and muscles of his back. Smiling down at her and keeping eye contact, he pulled himself half way out before thrusting back inside her. She sighed at the delicious friction. His body felt so good inside her, felt like it belonged, or perhaps that they were becoming a part of each other. Chan moved slowly, relishing this moment. She shivered, her hands grasping at his wide shoulders as he moved.

“Please,” she said again. “I need more.”

“Anything for you,” he soothed, placing a few kisses across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He pulled his hips back and plunged inside her, going as deeply as he could. Setting a steady rhythm, Chan buried his face in her neck as he began to let go and lose himself in the feeling. She filled every sense of his. Her smell, her feel, and the taste of her skin under his lips. Even her pants and moans filled him as they teased his ears in the quiet of the room. Her limbs held him close, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling. 

Pleasure rose inside him and he knew there was only so long he would last like this. He wanted to feel her come around him, feel her body milk him as she came beneath his touch again. Her heels hooked around the back of his thighs as she arched against him. The slight change in angle let him brush the sensitive spot inside her, making her quiver and gasp.

“Harder, there,” she begged, a desperation growing inside her.

“Are you close,” he questioned, his face tucked in against her neck.

“So close,” she whimpered, her nails raking his spine.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” Chan panted. “I need to hear you cum.” She whined and moved restlessly against him as the warm pleasure pooled in her stomach. He put his lips to the thrumming pulse of her throat.

“Chan,” her voice was barely a whisper when the knot of delight finally snapped inside her. As her body gripped him, he bit the flesh where her neck and shoulders met marking her as his. The shock of pain melded with her orgasm sending a cascade of sensations through her. With a final thrust he came inside her, filling her body with his emissions. He stayed like that until he felt her move restlessly beneath him and only then, reluctantly pulled out and moved to curl up beside her on the bed.

Her hand went to the bite on her neck. It still stung slightly but not nearly as much as she thought it should. Chan splayed a hand over her stomach, rubbing it in small circles.

“Are… are you okay,” he asked, looking at her lovingly as he laid beside her.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking her hand from her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bite me.”

“Just this once,” he promised, pulling himself closer to her. “It marks you as mine, gives you the protection of my pack. You’ll carry a little of my scent now.”

“Oh,” she blushed and looked at him. “Am I supposed to feel different? I don’t feel any different.”

“No,” he chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s something only my kind would notice.” She nodded and laced her fingers with his where they laid on her stomach.

“Did you do it so that he, whoever he is, would know?” She questioned. “Was this all just to, I don’t know, put him off?”

“No, although I would be happy if it did,” He gave her an adoring look. “This was because you were meant to be mine. Meant to be the mother of my babies; to be by my side for as long as we live.”

“So you want children,” she laughed.

“I want to see you filled with my child,” he admitted, his eyes going to where his hand lay on her. “I want to see it grow inside you. I want to raise it with you, watch it grow into someone as beautiful as you are.”

“Someday,” she nodded. “But I’ve been on birth control, so I don’t think we could just yet.”

“The bond,” he explained. “When I claimed you with my mark, it sort of…” he paused, searching for the right wording. “It opens you to me.”

“Oh,” she blinked at him a few times, trying to process what he was saying. “Even if we just… this one time?”

“Maybe,” he furrowed his brow slightly. “If  you don’t want, at least not yet,” sitting up, he moved to help her walk to the bathroom. “We can try to clean you out, maybe prevent it.”

“No, it’s just a lot to adjust to,”  she explained. “A lot has sort of happened since this morning.”

“I know, baby girl,” he laid down again and pulled her into a spooning position against him. “Let’s go to sleep for now and figure out the rest in the morning.”

Over the next few days neither of them left the house. She called in sick to work, not wanting to put either of them in danger by going out to a place he could so easily find and potentially corner her. Even with Changbin there, with so many people and such a big space, it would be possible to miss him, or at the very least, to not notice him until it was too late. Instead his pack mates came over to plan their next move. Chan spent most of his time planning with Minho and Changbin, setting patrol schedules and scout missions for everyone. Hyunjin was assigned the duty to investigate at the hotel and talk to the woman who had been mauled. Maybe it wasn’t a random coincidence that he had picked her, Felix had suggested after their second meeting. After all, if he was just looking to hurt people and just stir up trouble here, why target her? Sure it could have been a coincidence if he had just been foiled and chosen another target, but he hadn’t.

The suggestion had made Chan go cold. It made sense, but what had made him target her? There wasn’t something particularly special about her, except that she was his mate, but even he hadn’t known that yet. Was it possible the loner had some way of knowing even before Chan did? As far as they knew, it wasn’t possible to know but, still the thought lingered.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Chan’s phone rang. Hyunjin was calling him from the hospital where he had gone to talk to the other victim.

“Chan?” There was a slight edge of panic to Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke.

“What’s the matter?” Chan asked the other boy, worried immediately by his tone.

“She’s… she’s my mate,” Hyunjin whispered into the phone.

“What?” Chan had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He stood up, needing to see his mate, to touch her and know that she was there and fine. He found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, snacking on something as she read.

“I’ve never met her before,” Hyunjin started to explain. “But I felt it the moment I walked into her room. She was just lying there, still sleeping, so hurt, and it just hit me. Her scent and just her presence; I know she’s mine.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, pulling his own mate against him as he spoke.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be a coincidence,” Hyunjin insisted.

“I know,” Chan agreed.

“Look,” Hyunjin sighed. “I can’t leave her alone here. I have to stay for now.” Chan understood, letting him stay with the promise to send someone else to keep watch over her tomorrow so he could get some rest and come back to discuss what to do next.

“I hate this,” Chan said, as he sat at the cafe a block away from the craft store.

“We can hear everything that is happening,” Jisung assured him. “She’ll be fine, but we need him to come out.”

“I know,” He shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They spent the afternoon waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Over an open line, Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin listened as she went about her day like everything was fine and normal. She helped customers, stocked shelves, and worked at the register, all while Chan was on the edge of his chair, waiting for something to happen. But, it seemed, it was all for nothing. The sun set and the store closed and seemingly all was well. She locked the front door and set about closing everything down by herself.

Chan relaxed a little, hearing her calm humming as she closed down the register and counted out the money in the back of the store. After the money was counted and locked in the safe, she just had to make one last pass through of the store to make sure no one had left something behind or left a mess and then she could head home. Over the radio, Changbin and Jeongin started joking around, getting playful after a tense day. Everyone was relaxing, at least until a loud crack broke over the mic followed by her surprised squeal. The jokes stopped and everyone froze.

“I know you all are out there,” the loner’s self-satisfied voice cut through the silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t make her suffer, but sadly, you will.”

Before the words were even finished coming out of the loner’s mouth, Chan was up, running as fast as he could to the store. He had to get in, he had to protect her. Jisung was on his heels as they ran across the street and into the strip mall parking lot.

“Why?” She asked, her voice slightly strained.

“Why should he have you when my mate was stolen from me?” He growled.

“What did they have to do with that?” She asked, keeping him busy for as long as possible. If he was explaining things, he wasn’t killing her.

“Nothing,” he admitted, dragging her towards the back door. “But neither did anyone in the last three territories I went through. This one was the first one that figured out it was me though.”

“What the hell is the matter with you,” she spat. “You think you can take something from others just because it happened to you?”

“Why should I be the only one who has to be alone?” He demanded, pushing her against the wall by her neck.

“The only one,” she scoffed, realizing this was probably not the ideal way to handle this, but she couldn’t help it. “You know most people don’t have some beacon to tell them who they are supposed to be with. Even those who do, people lose the people they love all the time. Car accidents, illness, crime, no one needs your help suffering, you selfish, shitty person.”

“What do you know,” he hissed back. 

“I know that your mate was lucky not to have had to spend a lifetime with someone who would do this,” she challenged. “No one deserves that.”

Shock and rage vied for dominance in his expression as he stared at her. He made a sound of pure rage and pulled back a hand to strike her. Never having been the sort to just lay down and give up, she kicked out catching the side of his knee. It didn’t really hurt him, but it was enough to unbalance him and make him catch himself, giving her the chance to break out of his grip. She knew she wouldn’t get far, he was faster and stronger, so she just tried to get as close as she could to where Chan and the others were. They would come, she had faith.

The loner came up, grabbing her from behind. “I’m glad, even if this is the last thing I do, I’m not just denying him his mate, but I’ll take his child, too.”

On the other side of the glass door, Chan felt half a second of numbing terror. He had to get inside, for both of them. Changbin picked up a part of a broken concrete curb stop and smashed it against the window, cracking the safety glass into a million little pieces, still stuck together by the coating, but weakened. He hit it again, opening a hole the size of a fist, and again, until the tear in the inner plastic layer got bigger. Impatiently, and perhaps a little recklessly, Chan covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and tore at the shattered glass. Finally the hole was big enough and he crawled through onto the display on the other side of the glass. He had to find her.

Their scuffling was audible and he found them quickly, rolling on the floor a few aisles into the store. She had curled into a ball, only moving to thwart his attempts to move her or drag her further to the back of the store. They all leapt on him, pulling him off her and dragging him away before they made sure he could never hurt another person. Chan stayed with her, trying to get her off the floor where she lay. He needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, make sure the loner hadn’t done anything to her that needed an ambulance.

She peeked out from under her arm, checking who it was before throwing herself into his arms. Relief coursed through her like she had never felt before. She breathed his name and threw her hands around his neck. Pulling her to his chest, he held her close for a moment before pulling her back to get a better look at her. Bruises were blooming on her neck and wrists, but that seemed to be the most serious injuries inflicted upon her.

“Baby girl,” he looked into her eyes, trying to find the words to express how sorry he was he hadn’t been there.

“I knew you would come,” she assured him.

“I will always come for you,” he promised, his hand dropping to her stomach. “For both of you. I will always protect my loves with everything I have.” Over the past few days he had been so preoccupied with their hunt and their planning that he hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her scent.

“How do you know,” she shook her head. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing much, just a little change in your scent… hormones and all that,” He smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really something a person could sense themselves. “Are you happy? I know this has been… too much.”

“I am,” she nodded. “I may not have chosen this way to meet you and fall into your world, but I don’t think I can imagine ending up anywhere else.”

“You’re mine,” he assured her. “And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do just to see you smile.”

Masterlist

HOSTIS, Chapter XVII.5: Inevitabilis, Inevitable

HOSTIS PLAYLIST: WONHO - LOSING YOU

Previous Chapter (XVII: Et Universum Parallel)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz) 

Genre (by chapter): drama, angst

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

Dana’s A/N: this is a special piece written by @vxstarlightxv​ who has been feeding me ideas to fuel this story. i did not write this chapter, i only merely proof-read it/gave her tips etc, but otherwise the beauty of this chapter will never be able to be my own original work.

P.S: if you’re emotional, please keep a box of tissues with you 

“there is no escape from you, not now, not ever. you are inevitable.”

The day the kids at school start calling you Ares is the day Hyunjae loses faith in humanity. You are a spineless, low-life coward, who hardly deserves to be bestowed with the same title as himself. Yet here you are, acting as though you were worth being on the same plane as him.

He hates you. Oh god, he truly does.

He remembers the way you fucked him over so well and thoroughly, and in front of the whole school that too. Granted, he may have screwed with your equipment, but maybe if you didn’t suck so bad you wouldn’t have failed.

Blaming him for your shortcomings. How typical.

But showing Minhee ​that picture of the accidental kiss (that meant ​nothing​) for the sole purpose of destroying his relationship? That was a bitch move right there. So he has no regrets when he posts a cleverly edited picture of your lab teacher with his girlfriend. None at all. In fact, the sight of your tears when that himbo Younghoon dumps you is something that brings him delight.

His heart definitely did not twist when he saw you cry, because he definitely does not care. You hurt him, and it’s only fair that you’re hurting too.

Nonetheless, he is pleasantly surprised at how fast you bounce back. His breakup with Minhee was a huge watery mess, and he cannot help his grudging admiration for your strength when you power through your own with Younghoon.

It is only admiration, for he definitely still hates you.

When the time comes to choose a medical school, he chooses the one that seems the furthest away from you. But fate hates him, so after 4 years of respite, he is dumped back on your doorstep as your fellow intern in the neurology department.

Of all the fucky coincidences.

~~~

Ares is a brutal god. He is the fire of war, wild and relentless.

Hyunjae is furious when he finds out you’ve stolen his report, but he’s not surprised. Not when he would’ve done the same thing. Then again, he was kind of hoping you would leave him alone. Naturally, you’ve done the opposite. He wonders if his emotional response is a little… disproportionate, given the situation, but he’s not going to let you fuck him over like this and escape unscathed. He isn’t a fucking pussy, your thoughts on the matter be damned.

Silly little kitten. Put your paws in the fire, and watch the heat bubble your skin.

He is simmering as he bangs on your door. He hears you screaming some nonsense about your mother, but he’s too pissed to process anything. You open the door, face falling as you see him. He cannot help but reach out a hand and grab you by your pretty throat.

He shoves you into the house, fuelled by the magnitude of his anger. You’ve hurt his pride, made a fool out of him in front of Dr Kim. He wants to shred you to pieces, get you on your knees and rip the apologies from your mouth.

Tonight you will understand why the other gods fear the wrath of Ares.

 ~~~

Hyunjae replays the encounter in his head as he drives home. He has never once considered you as anything but an enemy. But today, something of seismic proportion has shifted in your dynamic.

The flutter of your lips against his, like butterfly wings on a flower. The warmth of your chest against his in a tight alcove, hiding from Dr Shin. The way you felt when you took him in, the way you cried when he hit every single spot that made your toes curl. The way you purred when he called you kitten and mewled as you fell apart on his cock.

In retrospect, he hopes that he didn’t hurt you. He usually likes to stick around for aftercare, but he didn’t want to ruin your pride even more. You’d already been dealt with a devastating blow, and he didn’t want to make it worse, regardless of how big of a dick you think he is.

(Ring, ring)

The sharp blare of his ringtone shatters the silence of his ride home. He glances at the screen, smiling when he sees the caller id.

“What’s up, Juyeonie? Are you finally back?” Hyunjae is thrilled to hear his best friend’s voice. Juyeon is very busy these days, being a commercial pilot and all, so these rare moments they have with each other are more precious than gold.

“Hey, hyung! Yes I am! On that note, are you free next Friday? Let’s get drinks and catch up!” Juyeon sounds so eager and hopeful that Hyunjae can’t help but say yes, no matter how packed his schedule might be. The rest of the conversation proceeds pleasantly, and he is happy to forget the day’s drama.

It is only when he reaches home that he realises that the thought of you has never quite left his head.

~~~

“So what happened? The last I heard, she left you high and dry in JFK.” 

He watches as feline eyes crinkle with delight at his question. His friend launches into a happy tirade about his mystery girl, going on and on about fate and chance encounters and love lost and found. Hyunjae listens carefully, admiring the way Juyeon has changed. He wonders for a moment if he'll ever experience something as profound as Juyeon has, will ever wake up one day knowing that his heart sits in the palms of another person, and will not fear the idea.

The image of your eyes dancing with wicked laughter arises unbidden, and it punches the breath out of him.

He is jostled out of his thoughts when a hand lands on his thigh. It is so abrupt, so sudden that he all but jumps out of his skin.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

Choi Minhee is standing in front of him, batting her mascara-painted eyelashes at him seductively. She is as pretty as ever, with her delicate collarbones and anime-girl eyes.

But she is not you.

The thought is so dreadful and unsettling that he cannot help but flirt with her the whole night in order to get it out of his head.

When have you become anything but an annoyance, anything but a pest that’s been shoved down his throat?

It is pleasant, talking to someone who he hasn’t met in a long time. He remembers her fondly, despite how miserable their parting was. Minhee is soft and kind, a gentle cherry-blossom compared to your ever-burning inferno. She complements him well (not perfectly, because only ​one​person does), and for a second he feels white-hot annoyance at you for fucking him over in this regard. Hyunjae cannot help but wonder if they would have been married by now had you not intervened with that photo. Would they be living the white-picket fence dream? What would their kids have looked like?

All he can see are children with your ash-brown hair and his almond eyes. The image causes his gut to clench so tightly that he wonders if something inside him might have cracked open.

“Have you and Y/N gotten together yet? I figured that after we broke up the two of you would end up going out. You were always kinda obsessed with each other.” The question jolts him out of his reverie. Juyeon, who has been listening politely so far, decides to insert himself into the conversation.

“Yeah, hyung. The two of you have always had something special, right? What was that stupid nickname we gave you? Paris and Helen?”

The irony is not lost to him. Enemies, being compared to the two greatest lovers of all time. A face that launched a thousand ships, a blaze of love that destroyed a nation. Only fools succumb to Aphrodite, the cruelest of the divine hosts.

“Ares and Ares. And for fuck’s sake, I will never be attracted to that hag. You won’t believe what she did at work last week-”

Hyunjae misses the knowing look Minhee and Juyeon exchange. He’s only seeing you.

~~~

If there is one thing that Hyunjae hates, it is surprises. So he really, really hates it when he sees you flirting with the intern as though ​he ​doesn’t exist.

The day had actually started off pretty well. He came into work feeling all pleased with himself. Not only did he break you down, but he also figured out a solid way to keep you in line. You were reacting beautifully to his taunts, and seeing you unable to walk made something vicious inside him preen.

And then, before he can breathe, you are making stupid cow-eyes at the snot-faced little intern as though he created entire galaxies in your honour.

How dare you, honestly? You’re wearing ​his ​hickeys on your neck, limping and ​sore because ​he​ripped you apart last night. How can you even ​think​of flirting with another man? Are you doing this on purpose, to get some semblance of power back?

This is not jealousy. It definitely is NOT jealousy because that would mean he would have to be attracted to your hideous hag face. No, it was an issue of pride. And no, he definitely was not deluding himself right now.

Nonetheless, watching Eric help you into his car after work makes him want to vomit.

~~~

It is the party incident that truly knocks it into his head. He spends the entire night seething over your flirtations with Eric, with even ​Sangyeon. He glares at you, but you pretend to not see, and it shoves him off the edge.

Why won’t you look at him? A room full of people, but you are the only one he sees. So why aren’t you seeing him too?

He reminds you that night, who is the only one who knows how to pick you apart, snap you in half. He reminds you who is the only one who can make your body thrum and vibrate, who is the only one who can coax tears from your eyes and pleasured sobs from your throat. But he is also tender with you after, because under that diamond-hard exterior is a heart wrapped in silks and satin. Hurting you is the last thing he wants to do.

It is only when he wakes up alone in the morning that he realises that maybe, just maybe, he wishes he could see you in his bed again, hair spilled across the sheets as your breathing slowly evens out into slumber. He wants to coo over your keening wails, drink the moans from your mouth.

A thought, fleeting and profound, surfaces.

He wants you to be his.

~~~

He goes to work on Sunday with iron resolve. He has spent the entirety of Saturday thinking hard about you, and the relationship you shared with him. The line between obsession and infatuation is a thin one, one that the two of you have been dancing on for 10 whole years. When did his foot slip? When did the late nights plotting revenge mutate into candied dreams of your lips, of your body, singing for him?

But of course, who else could it be? You have always been, will always be, his forever other half.

Ares and Ares, locked in their death dance. But when did Ares become Aphrodite? War has become Love, and Love has become War.

Somewhere along the way, something has gone wrong. At some point or the other, he has forgotten the hatred that sizzled through him like blazing poison. He has forgotten that you are annoying, that you are competitive, and that you get revenge in the sleaziest ways possible. He has forgotten everything, because all that remains is the way your smile looks like a flashing ray of sunlight, like a tendril of shimmering starlight. All that remains is the sound of your wind chime laughter, the softness of your small hands on his heated skin. All that remains is the memory of how good you are for him, how addictive the juxtaposition between your submissive sweetness in bed and your fiery heat outside of it is.

So he decides that he is going to make you his. Granted, the order of things was completely wrong, but he would fix it. He would cook you dinner, press kisses onto your cherry mouth, and then love you till morning comes. And then he would repeat it every day, till the day the two of you are cradled in the eternal embrace of death.

Surely, surely you reciprocate his feelings? How can you not, when your body weeps for him the way it does?

He likes to think you do, when he admires the way your eyes flutter closed when he steals kisses in the pantry. He likes to think you do, when you stay four hours past your shift and order takeaway for him. He likes to think you do, when you dangle Eric in front of him in order to get him to fuck you ​hard,​just the way you like it.

You are his, now.

~~~

Hyunjae’s love for you grows like tender flowers. It starts off small, but grows into something lovely and heartbreaking. You have carved your way into him, nestling against the walls of his heart and beseeching him to let you in with your stupid almond eyes.

He loves your stupid almond eyes.

He is on a cloud these days, brimming with affection that lights up his every step. He never considered himself to be one of those annoying, lovey-dovey honeymooners, but he can definitely see where they get their joy from.

Lovers alone wear sunlight.

You become his greatest delight. When you are around, even dust seems to sparkle like a thousand tiny diamonds. He loves waking up with you, your eyes half lidded and neck covered in his marks. He loves to see you in his clothes, smelling of his body wash, smelling of ​him.

(He has an extra special fondness for the days in which you are soft and pliant, allowing him to dress you like a doll. It makes his internal organs feel like they are tumbling over each other, and it makes him a little giddy. He loves taking care of you.)

But if he really had to pick a moment, he supposes he loves you most when you are with your patients, hands calm and steady and strong. It reminds him of everything beautiful there is about his profession, and he cannot get enough.

You are beautiful, in all the ways there are to be beautiful. You race through him like lightning, and he is sucked further into your orbit everyday. You carry his heart with you (inside yours), and you are never without it.

So he is overflowing with love when he picks you up and tastes your peach-covered mouth. He is overflowing with love when you smile at him with a sort of lightness that he's never quite seen directed at him before. He is overflowing with love as he goes to your favourite cafe one day to pick up the chowder you never stop talking about. Tonight, he will ask you to be his girlfriend, make this tentative little dance official.

Perhaps that is why the pain is so exquisite when he sees you with Younghoon, and hears you talking about Eric with such tenderness in your eyes.

“​He’s super enthusiastic and there’s just something about him that’s so... comforting. I see him and I think about nothing but sunshine and warmth and laughter. He’s just... so cheerful, compared to whatever i’ve been used to.​​” Something inside him shatters into a million jagged pieces when he hears the words, and every breath becomes as a blood-drenched ordeal.

Sunshine and warmth and laughter. Sunshine and warmth and laughter. Sunshine and warmth and laughter. The words ring like alarm bells.

Fool. Naive, hopeless fool. You were never really his, were you? You might be the light by which his spirit is born, you might be his sun, moon and stars, but he? He is your nothing. He is the shadow that is birthed of your radiance, forever connected and forever forgotten.

Is this is why storms are named after people? You have destroyed him in the sweetest of ways. Is this taste of heartbreak? Rust coats his tastebuds. Is this how tears are born? The agony is magnificent and all-encompassing. There is nothing left for him here. He has never been enough, never will be.

He leaves quietly, chowder forgotten.

~~~

It is truly repulsive, the fact that he can see what you adore about Eric. The intern is strong and sweet, kind in all the ways Hyunjae is not. He is soft and mellow, and will cool your scalding tantrums with gentle words. He will not stir up the embers of your fury the way Hyunjae does, hoping for a reaction. He will be tender with you, gently laying you out and coaxing your body to sing. He will not be harsh and hard and possessive like Hyunjae, claiming you with bites and bruises and writing his possession into your blood.

He has been measured, and he has been found lacking. Eric is the perfect Hephaesthus, a sweet spring dandelion, and it is no surprise that Zeus will give you to him.

Aphrodite never belonged to Ares, after all.

“Hey, Eric! Do you have a moment?” By some miracle, his voice doesn’t crack.

“Hey, hyung! What can I do for you?” Eric is as mirthful as ever, and Hyunjae wishes they weren’t fighting over the same girl because he might actually ​like the​ intern otherwise.

“Have you gotten Y/N’s number yet?” He pauses to watch the bashful amusement dance across the intern’s face, and waits for the head shake he knows is coming. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but she’s very into you. So here’s her number, and make sure you call her, alright?” The teasing lilt he’s going for comes off more as a hoarse croak, and he realises belatedly that he really needs to be less of a shit actor.

“Thank you so much, hyung! But hey, don’t you hate Y/N? Why are you helping her out?” The intern offers him a cheeky grin, and all Hyunjae wants to do is knock his teeth out. But he’s a ​professional,​so he offers Eric a tight smile (read: grimace) and says “Well, maybe I’m hoping you’ll distract her from work so that I’ll get the promotion first.” He tosses a wink in for good measure, before reaching out to ruffle Eric’s hair with a certain sadistic pleasure.

That’s thirty minutes in the bathroom gone down the drain. But that’s what he gets for stealing Hyunjae’s girl.

Of course, because Eric is quite literally an angel who can apparently do no wrong, he gives Hyunjae a sweet smile and rolls away happily in his chair, high off his excitement at finally getting the girl he’s been after for ​ages.

And then Hyunjae is left alone to drown in self-loathing.

Hyunjae is clearly a masochist who likes to hurt himself, so that’s why he decides to tell you to meet him at the carpark after work. One last time, he’ll be the one to drive you home, the one who kisses you goodnight.

He promises he’ll let you go after this.

~~~

The car ride is as quiet as ever. You enjoy being left alone with your thoughts, and Hyunjae isn’t about to interrupt you when he’s being pummeled by his own.

The Japanese once made up a fictional disease to describe the horrors of unrequited love. They call it ​Hanahaki​, in which flowers grow in the lungs of the victims, causing them to cough up petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

He supposes that it is the exact feeling that he feels now. His love for you coils in his chest, choking leaves and thorns that crush his internal organs. It is rooted so deep that it might never leave, killing him softly but surely. The petals tickle his throat in an insidious kiss as he chokes on his desire for you, their softness a poisonous taunt of your lips against his, a feeling he might never know again.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a balm to his wounded heart.

Of course he’s not okay. He’s in love with you, but you’re not in love with him. He knows that he is nothing without you, and that knowledge is somehow everything.

All this time he wanted to make you his, but you have made him yours.

He cannot form words, so he looks at you, really, really looks at you. He memorises the contours of your face, the slender bone of your nose, the tilt of your eyes, the exact shade of red your lips are. He'll hold every little detail close, remember the last night you're his and his alone, because tomorrow Eric will ask you out and his Aphrodite will never be his again.

He wants to pretend like the sudden moisture in his eyes is surprising, but he can't lie to himself anymore.

Liar, liar. Ares is a liar.

Is this how Lucifer felt when he fell from heaven? You are life, you are life and light and everything bright. And he is cold, dark and alone. He has fallen from grace, and all that is left are the coiling tendrils of hubris keeping his spine straight and gluing the shattered pieces of his heart together. He is heartbroken, but he will clench his teeth and grit through it. Your joy is worth it. His ego won't let him fall apart. He's stronger than this. Isn't he?

Break my heart. Break it into a thousand pieces and then some. It was only ever yours to break anyways.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Anyways, we’re here now. Get out already.” Your scoff is musical. He is aching and he is broken, so he does not have the strength to resist the screaming in his head to steal one last kiss from you. He luxuriates in the feeling of your petal-soft lips against his, before pulling away reluctantly.

Everything is more beautiful because the two of you are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. You will never share this moment again.

“Goodbye, kitten.”

The words are far more permanent than he likes. You don’t hear them.

His tears run as he pulls out of your driveway. He allows himself one last look at you, confusion blossoming on the face he once swore was hideous but now haunts his every moment.

Love is fire. It burns as much as it warms, and he is the poor fool who allowed himself to get scarred.

~~~

Crossing the line from enemies to lovers was a wheeling drop of ecstasy and biting kisses. Crossing the line from lovers back to co-workers is a study in heartbreak, and Hyunjae doesn't know how much longer he can handle it.

How do I forget you? I've tasted your secrets on my lips and drank the whispers of your body. You are the weakness in my bones and the hollowness in my lungs. How do I cleave my soul from yours, when you are the drum that my heart beats to?

It is an awful sort of pain, feeling his chest cave in when he watches Eric roll over to you from his cubicle. You find him cute, it's obvious from the way your eyes crinkle like little stars when you regard him.

Look at me. Look only at me.

You look up, searching for his eyes like you’ve heard his prayer. You're expecting jealousy, disdain, fury. You're expecting him to drag you to the pantry, to call you ​kitten ​and kiss you till you bleed. But Hyunjae has no more poison to offer you. He is empty, and all he can do is give you a blank look. He hopes you will be happy, silently wishing you the best.

Hephaestus gets Aphrodite, and all Ares can do is watch. Bloody, brutal Ares is never the winner.

His lack of response throws you off. By now, you are used to his hissy fits, his seething rages. But who is he? What right does he have? You are not his to rage over, or his to claim. You might wear his marks on your neck, but you are definitely not ​his.

How he wishes you were. But wishes are like pixie dust, and this is no fairytale.

The rest of the day is agonising. His body is so keenly attuned to yours now, and he doesn’t know how to rewire himself. He keeps a cool distance from you, but every molecule in his being roars in fury at the forced detachment.

He misses you already.

You continue to press him, trying to push his buttons and rile him up. Hyunjae studiously ignores you, hoping his coldness will further fray the ropes holding up the fragile bridge of a relationship that the two of you have developed. You are looking at him with a strange mix of anger, disdain and annoyance. For a second, he thinks he might even see-

Is that? Could it be? Longing? Do you miss him like he misses you?

Wishful thinking. That’s what it is. But it hurts so bad that he decides that he’s just going to avoid you from now on, until he finds a more appropriate coping mechanism than simply crying like a toddler when he can’t get his way.

Maybe he should call Minhee, and try to rekindle-

He cuts the thought off before it dredges up more painful memories. All he can see when he thinks of Minhee are the one-thousand-and-one different ways you exceed her.

You’re fiercer, with more spine. You don’t give in as easily. You’re not afraid to fight with him. You have a kinder heart. You are so much smarter. Your lips are softer. Your hand fits into his so much more perfectly. You are lovely in all the ways she never was, never will be.

It is a numbing, novocaine relief when Dr Choi summons him for rounds. If Hyunjae is left for even a second longer with his thoughts, he might just spiral into a pit of depressed longing and self pity that he might never emerge from.

Mighty Ares, on his knees. Aphrodite’s laughter perfumes the air, irresistible and menacing.

~~~

He is on his final round when he meets Mrs Kang. The kind, old lady takes one look at him, eyes lighting up with knowledge that he wishes she wasn’t able to glean so easily.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Well he doesn’t, but the words explode out of his bleeding heart like ink spilling on ivory pages.

“I... I thought that it would be okay, that I could forget and let go and that it would all be fine and good but then… I saw her--” his voice cracks miserably as a lump etches itself into his throat. His heart is racing, and every inhale feels like swallowing glass shards.

“I saw her and something went terribly wrong because I couldn’t forget and my heart was remembering and I felt like I was dying but I couldn’t do anything because all I want is for her to be happy and I know that happiness isn’t with me and I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT.”

Mrs Kang is silent, regarding him with a look he can’t quite decipher. He takes it as an invitation to continue.

“I wish I was him. I wish I was the one who could make her smile, make her laugh. But I’m angry, I’m jealous and I’m immature. I’m overly competitive, and I don’t know how to lose graciously. When I’m pissed, I do stupid, radical things.”

Silence. Inside, outside. It is deafening.

“Why would she want me? I don’t deserve her, and knowing that I’ll have to live my life watching her in another man’s arms is ripping me apart.”

He’s breathing hard, like he just ran a marathon. It’s a terrifying prospect, facing his feelings head on. Until now, they were swirling around his head in an ugly tangle of emotion. Verbalising them, hearing them out loud, is painful and cathartic at once. But he’s already feeling like a pathetic little sap. He wonders if you would sneer at him if you heard. Is this what it feels like to lose? Is this how you felt, lifetimes ago, on your sofa? The two of you have always been push and pull, a forever impasse. But today, you’ve finally shoved him off balance.

Who is the stronger Ares now? Your kisses are his kryptonite.

A hand comes to rest over his.

“Love always finds a way. I know you’re feeling hopeless now, but know that if you are meant for each other, you will always find your way back,” Mrs Kang finishes with a gentle smile. The pretty words do not reassure him.

If only love was as perfect as love seems to be, if only his flaws and broken edges could be hidden away. But this is a dream that will never come to life, a flower that will never grow to bloom.

She does not know who it is that he is fighting with, who it is that is slipping away from him with every passing second. She thinks that it will be okay, but she does not know that Ares has no mercy. He expects none from you. Nonetheless, he gives her a watery grin in return before standing up to complete his rounds. He may have lost, but he has enough composure to know better than to break in public.

It is a monumental effort, holding it together.

Hyunjae makes it to the lift in peace, stepping in through the shiny doors and slamming the button for the fifth floor. When they slide open, the sight before him makes his heart drop like a wineglass.

You and Eric are standing across him, hand in hand. Eric’s foot is tapping impatiently, eager to drag you off to wherever he was taking you for dinner.

For a second, he loses control over his emotions. Agony crumples his face, and you, because you’re just that smart and just that perceptive, register it. He doesn’t have the heart to pretend anymore.

Hyunjae brushes past the two of you, ignoring your questioning look, ignoring Eric’s cheerful greeting, and most importantly ignoring the writhing in his chest. He goes straight for his briefcase and shoves his belongings in, flicking the lights off and rushing to the carpark. He does not want to see anyone. He does not want to process anything.

He is empty. So, so empty, and hollow. The void inside him threatens to consume him whole.

The moment he reaches home, he goes straight to his spirits. There’s a bottle of whiskey sitting in the top most shelf of his kitchen, a birthday gift from his father. He pulls it down, slamming the glass decanter onto the kitchen counter, and the pressure nearly cracks it open.

He remembers the sight of you pressed up against this very counter, squirming under his ministrations. He remembers your lips fall open in a sigh, and then to beg. He remembers standing between your thighs, feeding you and then licking cream off your lips. Memories swirl through his head, cutting through his ribcage and slicing his heart open.

He doesn’t bother to grab a glass, pouring the scorching liquid down his throat. It claws at him, and he welcomes the pain.

Love is cruel, love is cold. When it kills, it does it slow.

He knows the tears are coming. The pressure has been building in his head for the last twenty-four hours. They fall as he walks over to the living room, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

The mirror you clutched when you moaned wretchedly, promising him that HE was the only one who could ever ruin you this way.

He lifts the bottle, forcing himself to look his reflection in the eye as he drinks a toast to Eric. ​Here’s to you, buddy.

His reflection sneers back, bloodshot and desolate. A half of a whole, incomplete. This is what he is without you.

Hyunjae sinks to the ground, bottle thumping down on the carpet. It rolls once, twice, and rivulets of alcohol splash across the floor. Another memory lunges up.

There is nothing more striking than red on white. Blood on snow. Wine on cream skin, tracing paths his eager tongue follows. A hiss of anger that softens into a sigh.

The sofa smells like you. The study smells like you. You are everywhere, and it breaks him, tearing a wail of grief out of his chest.

One day, the smell of you will fade. You will slip between his fingers like the wisp of a dream, and all he will be left with is the recollection of the fleeting seconds you were his and his alone.

Too much. This is too much. He cannot think, he cannot see, he cannot ​breathe,​without being haunted by you. You are in every orifice, in every nook and cranny and cell. You are in the water of his blood and in the porous hollows of his bones. You are in the fibre between his atoms, you are in the electricity racing across his neurons. 

There is no escape from you, not now, not ever.

You are inevitable.

(Knock, knock)

It takes him a moment to realise that the pounding is not from the blood rushing in his head, but from someone impatiently banging on his door. He picks himself off the floor, not bothering to fix his appearance.

By now, you must be in Eric’s arms. He would kiss you softly, like summer rain. You would sigh into his lips, and he would look at you like you hung the moon. He would take you home, and press more kisses into your silk skin as he whispers his love. One day, he would get on one knee and present you with a diamond. You would say yes, because Eric is sunshine and warmth and laughter. Sunshine. Warmth. Laughter.

This, this is what you deserve. Not him, not his twisted mess of anger and jealousy. He is a stinging scorpion, and you deserve more than his petty poisons. But his heart still lurches at the thought of you, nestled into Eric.

The gods have always feared Aphrodite more than Ares. He thinks he can finally understand why.

He swings the door open, and once again forgets how to breathe, forgets how to think, forgets that he kinda hates you but now kinda loves you because there you are, raindrops glistening in your eyelashes, and you eclipse every star in the sky. There is nothing but you and you alone, and his withered little heart is shooting to life because ​that’s just what you do to him. There’s so much he wants to say, so many thoughts tumbling through his head. But he’s a frightful, useless coward, so all that flies out of his mouth is:

“Why the fuck are you--”

And then your lips are cushioned against his, kissing the venom out of him. He cannot help the sigh he breathes into your mouth at the way your body slots so perfectly against his.

Home, home is in your arms. He has been running all his life, and you have always been his only destination.

Tears slip out, hot and fast, washing the festering wound inside him clean. The cracked pieces of his soul begin to lift up and fuse together.

The light of a thousand suns slices through the void in him, and the darkness melts like ice on a hot summer day.

He is shuddering, wrecked by the sheer ​force​ of the emotions in him. But you are holding him tight, so very tight. He hopes you will never let him go. ​Never ever, ever let him go.

He is yours, and you are his. Where he ends, you begin and where you end, he begins. There is nothing else, no one else, because there was never anyone for him but you. Love not at first sight, or even the second, but at last sight and at ever and ever sight.

When you finally pull away to murmur the words he would have never even dreamed of hearing from you, it’s like starlight is filling the dusty hollows of his chest, sewing the pieces that have fallen apart back into the tapestry that is you. He is surprised, he really is, but something inside him has always known, has always clung to the hope that you would choose him, despite everything.

All that matters, is that you’ve come back to him. You are the only truth he’s ever known.

~~~ 

Later in the evening, when the two of you are spent from your love-making and coiled so tightly that your breaths have become one, Hyunjae takes a moment to contemplate the situation. You have won this competition between the two of you. You have planted yourself as first in his life, and for once (​and of course, the only time ever, because he is still going to get that damn promotion before you)​, he is happy to cede to you. This is what love is, to break and to be broken, to be full and to be empty, to win and to lose. He would have it no other way. All that he is, and all that he will be, center around the axis that is you.

Do you feel like this too? Like your heart is bursting from the seams?

You sigh in your sleep, seemingly agreeing. He loves you so much, it hurts. But there is one final thing to do.

He lifts his head to the stars, who have been waiting for this collision of souls for a long, long time.

Thank you, he whispers.

And for once, Zeus smiles down on his Ares.

ENDING THOUGHTS:

First of all, a very big thank you to everyone who made it to the end!! This piece has been a wild, emotional ride from start to finish and I understand that the sudden change in style can be jarring for some. As such, I am very grateful to everyone who took the time to read it :)

Hyunjae has always been a very complicated character. We’ve seen him through Y/N’s eyes for the last 17 or so chapters, and she is definitely not the most reliable of narrators. Many of her thoughts regarding his actions and motivations are shadowed by her own negative emotions, and he has come off as a rather poisonous character, except for the rare moments of tenderness he seems to show. Hopefully this will help you get a glimpse into Hyunjae’s psyche, in a way that is untainted by Y/N. I’ve seen many of your asks about Hyunjae and his behaviour, and perhaps you will see this as a sort of redemption for him, in the sense that he is so much deeper and complex than the seething neanderthal Y/N sees him as.

Writing this was a challenge nonetheless, and I think we should all be very grateful to Dana for powering through Y/N and Hyunjae’s story, given how much of a hot mess this couple is! It’s very hard to write an enemies-to-lovers fic without it coming off as corny and shallow, and she had the double struggle of writing that dynamic in a medical setting. The fact that we’re all whipped for these two is testament to her brilliant writing, so let’s all say a big thank you for that :))

Before I end, I’d like to pay homage to some of the writers that have inspired this fic. Reading through, you will see quotes inspired by the likes of Nabokov, Cummings and Homer. If I’m not wrong, there’s a little bit of Sarah J Maas and Caitlyn Siehl in there as well. And of course, who can forget the little bits of mythology peeking out here and there? If you happened to notice these references, feel free to scream in Dana’s ask box! It’ll be fun to read your thoughts :)

Once again, a very big thank you for following Hostis so devotedly, and showering Dana with your love. I hope you’ll continue to give her all your love and support the rest of her works.

(P.S Did anyone notice Pilot! Juyeon? If you didn’t, you should 1000% check out his story too, here.)

Love Always,

V

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter XVIII: Renuntiatio

A Little Bit Longer (Supernatural x Teen Wolf)

Crossover

Summary: As she doubts her boyfriend, Y/N confronts Stiles about cheating. 

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader, Winchester x sister!reader

Title Reference: A Little Bit Longer x Jonas Brothers

Word Count: 1682 words

Warning: angst, cheating, violence, swearing

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

"Please don't tell me you're going to order the milkshake, Y/N." Sam rested his head on his arm, watching me as I grinned widely.

"Of course I am. That's the best part about this diner." I placed the menu down and sighed, "Especially after Stiles ditched me today, I kind of need it."

Dean grunted, "Whatever. You act like you didn't just see him."

"For your information, I haven't seen him in over a week."

"Boo-hoo."

Sam nudged Dean on his arm, "Give her a break dude. A week is a pretty long time, we solved two cases since."

"Well if you're such a sob, why don't you surprise him and drop by?" Dean let out a suggestion, which really wasn't a bad idea.

Except for the fact that I didn't know what he was doing. I don't want to visit him unexpectedly and see Stiles freaking out for some reason.

Seeing the worried expression on my face, Sam let out a breath. "Don't think too much into it. If he ditches you again or doesn't try to text you, just start asking questions."

"Haha, make him squirm. I love that." Dean laughed.

I starred at my oldest brother and rolled my eyes. It pissed me off that Dean always joked around with my misery. Scooting off the booth, I got out of my seat. "I'm going to go order my milkshake now."

Sam and Dean started bickering from behind as they fought about me and my attitude. Ignoring them, I continued to walk towards the counter.

As I was waiting by the counter, I noticed a wallet sitting there unintended. It was familiar but I didn't think too deep into it. The waitress that was behind the counter smiled as I handed the wallet.

She flipped the wallet, looking inside to identify the person by their ID. "Mi.. Miec... Stilinski... Wow the first name i-"

"Wait, can I see the ID please? I think I know the person." I kindly asked, hoping that she would show me the card.

As she flashed the ID at me, I immediately knew who it belonged to. It wasn't like I didn't know it was Stiles' the moment the waitress tried to pronounce his name. I just had to make sure it was really his drivers license.

"Seems like you know him... The look in your face says so. Are you alright?" The waitress was really friendly, which was why I loved this diner.

"Uhh yeah. A close friend of mine, actually. Mind if I give it to him?" It probably came off as sketchy but this could be an excuse to go see him, as pathetic as that sounded.

"I trust you, go ahead." She smiled as she wiped off the counter. "Worse case, Stilinski comes back and I remember your face."

A giggle escaped my mouth, the waitress laughing with me also. "You're right. Thank you."

Gripping the wallet tightly, I sat back down to the booth next to Sam.

"So chocolate? Cookie and Cream? Vanilla?"

"Huh?" I questioned Sam, looking puzzled as I starred at the wallet. Nothing really made sense to why my boyfriend's wallet was here.

Maybe I was thinking too much of it; Was he here by himself? Perhaps with a girl? Stiles knew this diner was my favorite place to eat at. I sounded like a crazy girlfriend but there was nothing but doubt on my mind.

"Stop doing that overthinking crap, don't worry." Dean said before taking a huge bite off of his burger.

Opening the wallet once again, I starred at Stiles' picture on his license. He was too sweet to mess around with other girls, I knew that much. Or did I?

I checked the pockets to see if I can find anything; There was just a condom, some cash and few receipts. Picking up the first receipts that was crumpled up between ten dollar bills, I read it to see if there was perhaps any clues.

"I'll be in the car." My heart dropped as I re-crumpled the receipt back into Stiles' wallet and stormed out the door.

Sam followed me outside. "Y/N, Y/N!"

"Stiles was here this morning!" I started crying, I honestly was exhausted from having him in my mind all the time. "He was just here..."

"Okay, okay. Let's go home okay? We'll talk about it at home."

----

"That fucking prick!" Dean slammed the front door as we got into the house. "Call him here, now!"

Sam walked over to Dean, "Hey calm down. We don't know anything yet. The only thing we know for sure is that he was at the diner."

"You better punch him in the face or I will, Y/N." Dean huffed, pacing back and forth.

"He's on his way..." I mumbled, turning off my phone as I checked my text from Stiles. "... After I told him it's an emergency."

Dean shook his head, "I'm fuming. Funny how now he wants to show up."

"I'm glad you're mad at him for me, Dean but I need to do this on my own okay?"

He nodded, his face clearly stated that he was beyond pissed. I looked at both my brothers, "I'll be upstairs in my room."

The sound of footsteps followed me from behind but I heard it stop as Sam mumbled something under his breath. I suppose Dean tried to come with me, which was refreshing because that meant my brothers were really looking out for me.

Sitting on my bed for about five minutes, I heard a knock on my door. Stiles came in with a nervous look on his face, "Long time no see."

"And who is it to blame?" I didn't bring him here to be petty, it was just that all my anger and confusing had me going crazy.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Stiles closed the door behind him and approached the bed. "I've been busy."

"You were so busy you forgot your wallet." I smiled sarcastically, lightly throwing his wallet towards his chest as he caught it. "Guess where I found it?"

Stiles put his wallet away into his pocket, sighing. "The last place I remember seeing it was at the diner."

Curling my lips, I starred at him. I didn't know what else to say anymore. I was scared of what his answer was going to be if I asked him.

"You ditched me today to go to a diner, with who?"

"I went by myself."

That was a lie. "Do you want to try again?"

"Y/N, I was by myself."

"You have a receipt in your wallet and you ordered food and drinks for two people!" My tone was louder and much angrier. "If you're lying about going to the fucking diner by yourself, I can assume that you were with some girl."

Stiles stood still, he was emotionless. His mouth was opened, figuring out what he should say to somewhat make me feel better.

“So am I right?” I shouted at him, dying to know the answer at this point. It was frustrating seeing him freeze, I knew he was guilty.

“I don’t know what to say...” Stiles murmured.

Tears immediately flooded down my face as he confirmed my assumptions. Everything was true, I wasn’t being paranoid. This time however, I wish I wasn’t right because my heart felt like it was crushed into billions of pieces.

“What about an apology for starters? You don’t even have an excuse to defend yourself?!” I shoved him, having mixed feelings between anger and sadness.

“Y/N, I am sorry and I don’t have an excuse for any of this. What I did was wrong, I’m truly sorry.”

“Why did you keep this from me?”

Dean and Sam rushed into my room, they must of heard banging from when I pushed Stiles. Being occupied, I honestly didn’t think it was loud at all.

“You can show yourself out.” Sam spoke in a deep voice as he pointed towards the door. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so furious like this before.

“Not so fast, buddy.” Dean pulled Stiles in, grabbing him by his collar. He swung his arm behind and landed his fist into Stiles’ cheek.

“Dean!” I screamed, kneeling down next to Stiles after he fell to the floor.

The oldest brother huffed, “What you’re defending this asshole?”

“Of course not! Dean, I told you I’m taking care of this myself.” After helping Stiles off of the floor, I pulled him downstairs all the way to my front door.

“Thanks.” Stiles sighed. “Your brother would’ve killed me.”

“As much as I want that, I know for sure he would kill you and I can’t have Dean in prison forever.” I bit my lips and looked at him. There was already a bruise forming on his left cheek, I hate that I still cared that he was hurt. “Make sure you ice that, I’m sure your new girlfriend will be glad to help you.”

Stiles shook his head, “Can we talk about this? It was a mistake and I love you. Y/N, I want you and not her.”

“Goodbye, Stiles.” Seeing his sad and beat up face made it hard to close the door on him but it had to be done. As I locked the door, the tears continued to stream down.

“Y/N.” I heard Sam’s soft voice from behind. Quickly turning around, I jumped onto him and started to cry into his chest.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo.” He stroked my head, hugging me tightly.

Dean walked from behind Sam, “Hey, I didn’t mean to punch Stiles. It was just a reaction and I know you said you wanted to do it on your own bu-”

“No, thank you for being there for me. I’ll always need you even if I deny it sometimes.” I reached my arm, inviting Dean into the hug. “Besides, he deserved it.”

“I’ll always be there for you, champ.” Dean squeezed me tightly. “And honestly, we’re the only men that should be in your life.”

“Uh-huh.” I looked at both my brothers and smiled.

Project Partners (Song x Katara)

Happy day two of ATLA wlw week! This one is for the academia AU.

content warning: alcohol

@atla-wlw-week

"So, in conclusion, you and your partner will research one new surgical or oncological technique from the last five years on any of the cancer types I've included here. You'll have three weeks to complete the project." Professor Pakku pauses, lifts his eyes from his notes and turns them on the horde of bleary eyed, eight am lecture suckers in front of him. "Any questions?"

Song, who is just as tired and out of it as the rest of her classmates at 8:30 on a Monday, studies the powerpoint slide in front of her, struggling to write down all the project requirements before Professor Pakku moves on from the assignment and starts the day's lecture.

"Before you ask, Taedo," the Professor is saying from the front of the room, "no, I will not accept any late papers. If you would have read the syllabus I distributed at the beginning of the semester instead of no-doubt chucking into the garbage as I'm sure you did, you would know my policy on late assignments."

Song grins to herself as Taedo slumps down in his seat. Pakku is something of a hardass, but since Song mostly keeps to herself and stays out of his way, she's never had a problem with him. Besides, his course on cancer treatment was super popular among the pre-med and nursing students. It would take a lot more than verbal abuse to get Song to give up her seat in the course. She needed the elective to finish her third year of the nursing program at Ba Singh Se University, and since she wanted to work at a cancer ward after graduating, this course was practically a requirement.

From the front row, Katara pipes up. "You could just put the syllabus online."

Pakku sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose while Song rolls her eyes. For the entire semester, Katara seems to have made it her mission to make the Professor's life difficult, and it drives Song crazy.

"I suppose I could, but my ancient and old-fashioned ways make it quite difficult for me to use the computer, or so you told me in class last week." Even from her spot in the middle of the room, Song can hear Katara harumph. 

"Any other questions?" Professor Pakku asks, then sighs when Katara shoves her hand into the air. "Yes, Katara?"

"I've noticed you didn't include the breast as part of the infected areas we could study," she begins, but the professor interrupts her.

"Yes, thank you for proving, yet again, that you know how to read," Pakku says easily. Song winces. Lately she’s found herself unable to focus in this class, devoting her energy instead to either silently cheering on Professor Pakku in his misguided quest to get Katara to be quiet for more than five minutes so he can teach, or silently (always silently) commending Katara as she points out Pakku’s rampant sexism. Their relationship confuses the shit out of her, and while right now she finds herself inclined to defend the student (because wow, that was a really asshole thing to say, Professor), she thinks both of them go way too far.

Either way, it’s threatening to wreak havoc on her GPA.

Unaffected by Pakku’s rudeness, Katara presses the point. “That’s sexist,” she says bluntly, and Song finds herself nodding. “We should be able to study whatever cancers we want to. Just because you want to ignore all the stuff that only affects women doesn’t mean we want to.” She stops for a moment, considers. “Also, will we be able to pick our own partners?"

Pakku seems to have lost his temper. "You know what, just for that, everyone else gets to pick their partners, except for you. You will be paired with," he stops, consults the class list on his podium. "Song Ma."

Um, what? Song lets out a breath, unable to believe her shit luck. Everyone in the course turns around to stare at each other, wondering who the unlucky girl is until they catch Song's face. She knows she's got a completely disbelieving, what the fuck look on, so much so that Pakku actually smiles when his eyes catch hers. He gives her a small shrug, evil grin totally upstaging his non-apology. "Good luck," he adds helpfully.

Katara sniffs, turns back around in her chair. Song resigns herself to the inevitable. It's obvious there's no getting out of this one.

***

Song finds Katara waiting in the hallway after class. Slugging her backpack over one shoulder, Song steps forward and introduces herself. "Hi. I'm Song." She briefly considers holding out a hand, then stops herself, raising it to stifle a yawn instead. 

"I know," Katara says snobbishly. Jesus, this is going to be like pulling teeth, isn't it? Biting back a rude reply in kind, Song asks "do you have any ideas for what you want to research?"

"I want to research the use of dye to identify positive lymph nodes in breast cancer patients," Katara says immediately, and Song sighs. "Look, I know you're apparently cool with being on Pakku's bad side, but I don't need a shitty grade on this report because you can't pick your battles and have to stick it to the man whenever you have the chance." Katara looks a bit surprised by her outburst. Whatever. Song's grade is on the line, she's not going to risk it for some girl with a death wish, even if she is really pretty, skin somehow looking shiny and gorgeous even under the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

"I'll talk to Pakku," Katara offers begrudgingly. "See if he'll officially allow us to go beyond the project parameters."

"Fine, go ahead," Song relinquishes. Katara hadn't asked if she had any ideas, but whatever. "Your funeral."

Katara cracks a smile. "Is that okay, or did you want to research something else?" 

Song is so surprised by Katara's thoughtfulness, by her apparent ability to reach into Song's head and pluck out her inner monologue, that she merely shakes her head. That's alright, though. Lymph nodes are fascinating enough.

"Cool," Katara says. "I'll swing by his office hours today and let you know how it goes." Song nods, watches Katara walk away, and realizes she never even gave the other girl her phone number. 

Oh well. They have three weeks to work it out, and she'll see Katara in class on Wednesday.

Song shrugs to herself, walks out of the biology department toward the squashy chairs on the ground floor of the science building to get some reading done before her next class.

Later that day, when she's studying with her housemate Bohei after lunch, an email pops up on her phone.

Hey Song,

I talked to Pakku, he'll let us do the breast cancer project without deducting anything from our grade. 

Let's find a time to talk soon so we can figure out how we should divide the work. I can handle the research part of it if you want to handle the conclusion and summary.

-Katara

Song is furious. Why is Katara relegating her to the easy stuff? Doesn't she think Song can do good work?

"What's wrong?" Bohei, one of her housemates, asks from across the table. Song reads her the email. "Isn't that the stuck up girl that's always getting into fights with the professor? Sucks that you're paired with her."

"The professor put us together," Song explains. "Ugh. Why won't she let me do the work on this project? I'm smart, I can handle a research paper!"

"I actually think you're in a golden situation," Bohei says, reaching over to snag a few of Song's chips from an open bag on the table. "Just let her do all the work, if she cares about it so much you'll probably get a good grade, free A for the project."

Song shakes her head. "No, I want to help, I can do it. Why doesn't she think I can help?"

"Why do you care?" Bohei counters, raising an eyebrow. A great question, but Song is not in the mood for self-reflection.

"I, I don't," Song splutters. "I don't care, I just, I just don't think it's fair that she's doing all the work alone! And besides, how do I know she'll do a good job?"

"Okay," Bohei says, giving Song a look that says she knows what a flimsy excuse that is. Why does Song care what Katara thinks of her? She's just some know-it-all who can't leave well enough alone. Song emails her back, tells her she's free for dinner, and gets a reply a few minutes later that Katara will meet her at the dining hall. Song tries to push the other girl out of her mind, turning back to her chemistry notes. 

It's no use. By the time dinner rolls around, Song is simmering with indignation over Katara's assumption that she couldn't help with the project. She packs up her stuff, trying to tune out Bohei's pointed questions (the other girl had gotten over her instinct to leave Song alone about it and has instead spent the rest of the afternoon asking if Song likes Katara, like, like-likes Katara???) and begrudgingly makes her way over to the dining hall. After swiping her school ID to get in, she sees Katara at a table with a plate of food. Sighing, resigning herself to a confrontation, Song heads over there, dropping her bag onto an empty seat.

"Hey," she says, monotone, and Katara looks up. "Hi," she says back, a bit startled, but Song's not exactly giving her the best attitude.

"How was your day," Song asks rhetorically, and Katara raises an eyebrow but whatever, Song is just being polite.

"It was okay," Katara answers, tossing some of her long brown hair over her shoulder. Song likes it this way, better than when she puts it in the long braid that snakes down her back. "How was yours?"

An awkward moment, where Song has lost herself staring at Katara's hair. She realizes the other girl has asked her a question, and gives herself a shake. "It was fine too," she answers quickly. 

"Do you want to get a plate before we start working?" Katara asks.

Song agrees, gets up to scour the dining options for something to eat. She ends up with a bowl of pasta, some carrots, and a glass of water. Reaching Katara again and sitting back down, Song pulls her laptop and notebook out of her bag before spearing a piece of pasta and angrily throwing it into her mouth.

Katara, oblivious this time to her anger, has gotten out a laptop of her own. "So, I already made a google doc, I'm sharing it with you now," she says, and Song moves to check her email, loading the document on her screen. "Like I said, I can handle the research part and you can do the conclusion, is that okay?" Katara asks, not even looking up from her computer.

Song takes a deep breath. "No, it's not really okay," she answers in a rush. That makes Katara look up. "I can help with the research part too, I think I can handle it," she says drily. "I just don't think it's fair for you to do so much of the work," she tacks hurriedly, wanting Katara to think she's doing this for more noble reasons than wanting the other girl to think she's smart.

"Oh, it's okay, I don't mind doing the work," Katara brushes Song off, turning back to the laptop. 

Song groans internally. "Katara. I can help. I want to do some of the work on this project, it's my grade too," she reminds her.

Katara looks at her skeptically. "Alright," she concedes finally. "Here, want to look over some of the sources I've already gathered?"

Song takes another bite, nodding. They spend the rest of the evening compiling journal articles and studies on the use of dye to identify positive and negative lymph nodes in the armpit. It's not half as bad as Song thought it might be, both girls are focused on the work, and after an hour and a half they have enough to start working on the paper. Song drafts a preliminary outline, which Katara approves of after making only one or two small changes, and then they call it a night, agreeing to meet up again later that week. Song packs up her bag feeling good, they got work done. And she's definitely proved to Katara that she's smart enough to hold her own. Not that she cares about any of that.

***

As the week goes on, Song finds herself enjoying her study sessions with Katara more than she'd like to admit. For all her sharp edges in class, she's surprisingly laid back when she talks with Song. She's got a sharp sense of humor, and the way she vivisects Pakku and some of the other asshole idiots in their class causes Song to nearly pitch a fit. About the work itself, she's pretty anal, but Song's own standards are exacting themselves, so it's not like she can complain.

They meet again on Wednesday, but it's on Friday that Katara tells her that she's pre-med and plans to become a breast cancer surgeon. Her mother died of breast cancer, and she wants to work so other people don't suffer like she did. It only seems natural to tell her about her father's fatal car accident, in turn. 

"Is that why you want to become a nurse?" Katara asks quietly. She doesn't say she's sorry, and neither does Song. What good would that do?

Song blows out a breath. "Maybe?" she offers. "I don't know. I just know that I'm good at this, I'm good at helping people when they're hurt, and if I can do it, shouldn't I?"

Katara nods. "I understand," she says, and Song gets the feeling that she really does.

***

By Friday night it becomes obvious to both Song and, unfortunately, Song's housemates, that their girl is quickly becoming enraptured with Katara. "What do I do?" Song moans into a chocolate chip cookie that D'wei made to cheer her up.

"I thought she was annoying," he asks, topping up his glass of cheap, Barefoot wine, before handing the bottle to Song. 

"No, she's still annoying," Bohei chimes in. The three are sitting in their kitchen, Bohei painting her nails at the table and Song in the chair next to her while D'wei perches himself on the countertop. 

"But she's annoying in a hot way," Song whines. She gives herself a generous glass of wine, her third of the evening, then slumps over the table, cheek pressed against the wood.

"Haven't you only met with her like, twice?" D'wei asks. Song opens her mouth to respond, but Bohei beats her to it. 

"D'wei, come on. Song's a, you know," and she holds her wrist at shoulder height and bends it so her arm flops over.

Song chuckles, face mashed into the table.

"A what?" D'wei asks, and Bohei rolls her eyes.

"A lesbian," Song mumbles. "Exactly," Bohei says, nudging Song's head with her elbow. "Falling in love inside thirty seconds, that's classic lesbian behavior, you should know that."

"That's our M.O.," Song agrees. "Song's done that four times in the past year and half," Bohei continues.

"And once with a boy, but we don't talk about that," Song says. "But Katara's different, I can tell."

"She's stupid beautiful, I'll give you that," Bohei adds, capping her nail polish and blowing on her nails to dry.

"I know," Song grumbles, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth. "How do I tell her I like her?"

Bohei shrugs. "You could play 'girl in red' while you guys study, that will probably clue her in," D'wei suggests.

Song wrinkles her nose. "Too obvious," she answers. "Japanese Breakfast, then?" he asks.

Song thinks on it. "That one might work, actually."

"Hope so, or else you'll just have to pine from afar," Bohei stands up, blowing on her nails to dry them. "Or grow a pair and tell her you like her. Are we watching a movie or not?"

"We're watching," D'wei says decidedly, while Song moans, hopping off the counter and pulling Song into the living room by the wrist. "Don't worry, we'll watch something that's not about romance so you won't feel bad."

Song scoffs but settles herself on the couch between them nonetheless. D'wei's assurance turns out to be a complete lie, and they watch Pride and Prejudice, but whatever, Song's totally not thinking about Katara while the movie plays.

"Hey, Song, do you want Katara to stroll determinedly toward you through the morning mist wearing that exact unbuttoned shirt?"

Shifty silence from Song. "She does! D'wei, she does!"

"It would be super romantic," Song mumbles.

"Holy shit! Dude, you'd better tell her how you feel, or your ovaries will shrivel up!"

Eye roll. "I'm pretty sure you can only say that about people with dicks, Bohei, it's not like Katara's going to get me pregnant."

"But you want her to!"

***

On Friday, the week after their project was assigned, Song blinks the rain out of her eyes, holds her phone to her chest to keep it relatively dry under her bowed head and stares blearily at Google maps. Picking her head up she squints at the street signs, turns left, and then finally spots a sign saying "The Jasmine Dragon" above what looks like a small but cozy shop across the street. Grateful to have finally found the place, after trekking halfway across the city. Song had finished her exam earlier than expected, and with her and Katara's project deadline coming ever closer, she'd texted the other girl to see if she had any free time to work on it right now. Katara had agreed, saying she was studying with some friends at a place called the Jasmine Dragon. So here Song is.

Hurrying into the shop, Song relaxes after getting out of the rain, pulls the hood of her jacket down and snakes her braid out from where it's pressed uncomfortably between her backpack and her shoulder blades. The Jasmine Dragon tea shop is well-lit against the downpour, filled with comfortable armchairs dotting the room in twos and threes, with one long table at the back of the shop. Seated at the table are a few people working quietly by themselves, along with Katara and what must be her friends, working not at all quietly. Katara is sitting next to a boy who looks enough like her to be her brother, along with two people Song doesn't recognize, a boy with a completely bald head and shorter girl next to him. And--

"You!" Song shouts, then looks around herself, embarrassed, as she realizes how loud that was. Blushing a bit, she takes two sharp strides toward the table and says "you!" again, in a much smaller voice.

The boy on Katara's other side, with a nasty burn scar across his face and a Jasmine Dragon employee apron on, mutters "oh, shit," under his breath.

Katara is looking at Song, confused. "Hey Song, this is Zuko. How do you--"

"You're the asshole who stole my bike!" Song says angrily. Bike thief, whose name is apparently Zuko, goes bright red.

The shorter girl across from him lets out a laugh. "Oh man, Zuzu, you have the worst luck!"

"Shut up, Toph," Zuko mutters, eyes anywhere but on Song.

Katara lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Just once," she says, "just once, I would love it if someone recognized you from something nice you did for them, instead of whatever dick move you pulled."

"Never gonna happen, sweet sister!" The boy next to her crows happily. "Our Zuko was an asshole in a previous life!"

"Last year was a previous life?" The bald boy says, half-serious, and then high fives Katara's brother uncertainly.

"Fuck all of you," Zuko says. "He's doing his best," the shorter girl says dramatically, then slugs Zuko in the arm. 

"Wait," the bald kid says, turning to address Song. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes," Song says through clenched teeth, "I saw him leave a party at my house on my bike last year!"

It was one of the only parties Song and her housemates had thrown that semester. From what she can remember, Song spent a good portion of the evening trying to get close to the moody boy who was drinking alone in her kitchen. She had definitely tried to flirt with him, she remembers, cheeks going red, before Bohei had pulled her away to do shots. At the end of the night Song had passed out on their living room sofa. She woke up some time before morning at the sound of the door closing to see the moody boy, who was definitely Zuko, pick the lock on her bike and ride away on it, but she was too drunk to realize what had happened. In the morning, it was too late. Nobody else seemed to remember the boy, and she had no luck finding it.

Back in the tea shop, the bald boy is trying to defend Zuko. "That doesn't sound like something Zuko would do," the kid says, a bit soothingly. 

"No, it does," Katara counters. The shorter girl nods while Zuko hangs his head. 

"Yeah, that was me." He admits. "Look, I'm really sorry. I...was in a bad place that year, and I was super drunk, and--"

"Yeah, whatever, " Song says, uncomfortable with his honesty. "Are you going to give it back or not?"

"Of course he's going to give it back," the bald kid says enthusiastically. Song wonders who died and made him group spokesperson.

"Wait, do you even still have it?" the other girl asks. Song notices that she hasn't been making eye contact or even turning her head to look at anyone talking. She catches eye of the cane lying next to the girl's chair and realizes she must be blind.

"Yeah," Zuko says uncomfortably. "I woke up the next morning and, I, uh, didn't know what to do with it? So I just...kept it in the garage." He runs a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "It's still there."

Song, who has dropped her bag to the floor and started peeling off her jacket, throws up her hands. "You haven't even been using it?"

Zuko coughs. "No?"

"Ugh!" Song shouts, furious that he didn't even seem to need the bike.

"Look, I'll, I'll bring over to your place tomorrow," Zuko says placatingly, standing up. Song shoves past him and falls into his empty chair. "Yeah, maybe you should have tried doing that eight months ago, when you drunk-stole it from me," she deadpans, before turning to Katara. "Are we working on our project or not?"

Katara looks like she wants to keep laughing at Zuko's expense, but stops herself when she sees Song's face. "Uh, yeah, sure. Guys, this is Song, from my biology class. Song, this is Aang, Toph, and my brother Sokka." She points to the bald kid, the girl, and the dark-skinned boy next to her in turn. "You already know Zuko."

Song grits her teeth. "Song, I--" he starts helplessly.

"Zuko!" Someone calls from the back of the shop. "A little help back here?" From behind her, Song hears Zuko sigh. "I'll see you guys later," he says, before walking away. "Let us know if anyone else accuses you of something awful!" Sokka calls out after him gleefully.

"Or if something else from your dark past comes up to bite you in the ass! I want to start a facebook album!" Toph adds, and Song snickers, despite herself.

"Sorry about Zuko," Katara says carefully. "He was in a really bad place last year."

"So I've heard," Song says drily, fishing out her notebook and a pen.

"I'll make sure he gives you the bike back," Sokka offers. Song nods minutely.

"Why don't you guys get out of here," Katara says after a moment. "It's not like you're getting any work done."

Sokka opens his mouth, clearly affronted, but Song beats him to it. "No, you guys don't have to go, it's okay," she starts, but Aang catches onto Katara's meaning and has started packing up his stuff.

"No, Katara's right, we'd just waste your time," he says easily. "Come on, Sokka, Toph, we can study at my place."

Sokka sighs dramatically, but helps Toph get all her stuff together nonetheless. "Ugh, fine." Then he shoots his sister a sharp grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Katara splutters indignantly while Toph cackles. Song can’t even begin to guess what that means. “Nice to meet you, Song!” Aang calls over his shoulder before tailing Toph and Sokka out of the shop.

Song raises an eyebrow in Katara’s direction. “Ignore my idiot brother,” she says hastily, dark skin growing rosy with a blush. Maybe Song does know what that means.

“Do you want something to drink?” Katara continues quickly. “The weather is so shit outside, a hot drink will probably make you feel better.”

“I’m studying to be a nurse, Katara,” Song says, rolling her eyes but letting a grin escape so the other girl knows she’s playing. katara’s face lights up as she sticks her nose in the air. “Well, I’m studying to be a doctor, so I don’t know what they cover in nursing school.” She gets out of her chair and flounces towards the counter.

“You don’t even know what I want,” Song says half-heartedly, eyes on Katara’s ass. “You’ll like what I get you,” she says airily, half-turning to catch Song in the act of looking. Song blushes again, but boldly meets Katara’s eyes. The other girl smirks, before turning to the woman at the counter and rattling off something Song can’t hear.

When Katara returns a few minutes later, steaming mug of tea in her hand, Song has unpacked her laptop and is half-looking over the work they’d done so far. She passes the mug to Song. “Thanks,” she says gratefully, warming her hands against the bright red ceramic of the mug. “How did you guys find this place?” She asks, fighting off a yawn. Holding onto the warm tea has suddenly reminded her how tired she is.

Katara takes the seat across from her, picking up her own cup. “Zuko’s uncle owns it,” she explains. “Zuko’s really sorry about your bike, I know he is,” she says earnestly, casting a glance across the shop at him moving around in the back. “He went through a lot in the past year, he used to be such an asshole, even to us,” she adds. “But he’s alright now.”

Song doesn’t know what to say, can’t quite believe her, so she takes a sip of her tea instead. “Oh, it is good,” she said, surprised. Katara smiles in satisfaction. “Uncle Iroh thought you were a fruit tea girl, but I told him different. Guess I was right.”

It’s cheesy, it’s so, so high school, but Song’s stomach flutters at the idea of Katara knowing what sort of tea she’d like. It's got her tongue tied, but Katara saves her by asking about her day.

“It was good,” she answers. “I finished my international relations exam early, that’s why I texted you that I had time.”

“Well look at you, smartypants," Katara says, and Song scoffs. They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, sort of but not really working on their project, until Sokka comes back to pick up Katara and gives Song a ride back to her apartment.

"See you tomorrow!" Katara calls through the car's open window. Song shoots her a confused look. "When Zuko and I come to return your bike!" She reminds her. Song agrees, but doesn't think anything will come of it, which is why she's so surprised to open her apartment door at eight o'clock the next morning to see Zuko and Katara in her doorway, bike in hand.

"Good morning!" Katara says triumphantly, and Song stares. Katara, she, she looks so incredible Song can hardly believe it. Her hair is perfect and shiny, and she looks like she's wearing extra eye makeup. Zuko, meanwhile, looks like how Song feels, bedraggled in comparison. "Told you we'd bring you the bike!" Katara says excitedly, while Zuko yawns next to her. "Here, here you go," he says, steering the bike into Song's apartment. "Uh, thanks," Song answers slowly, leaving the bike by the door.

"Put your shoes on, we're taking you for breakfast," Katara instructs, and before she realizes what's happening Song finds herself in the back of Zuko's car, sitting next to Katara and behind a girl Song vaguely knows from one of her politics courses last semester, who Zuko introduces as his girlfriend. Song thinks Mai is way too cool a girl for someone like Zuko, but keeps her mouth shut.

"Go to the diner on fifth," Katara instructs, and in front of Song Mai scoffs. "No way, their coffee is garbage."

"All diner coffee is garbage," Zuko offers from behind the wheel, and behind him Katara says "I want pancakes. We went to your shitty coffee shop last time."

"It's not shitty, you just don't appreciate aesthetics," Mai sniffs.

"It's overly minimalist and their cake is bad," Katara says bluntly, before turning to Song. "What do you want to do?"

Song blinks, slightly overwhelmed at being thrust into this dynamic of people who were clearly comfortable in each others' lives. But also, it's early, so: "I want to eat eggs."

"Diner it is, you're outvoted, Mai!" Katara crows happily.

"You didn't ask me what I wanted," Zuko protests, already steering the car in the direction of the diner. "We know you're happy with either one," Mai explains.

"Always happy when I'm with you," he says to Mai, and Song can see his face in profile, he's offering Mai a small smile. Mai meets him halfway and gives him a quick kiss. 

"Eyes on the road," Katara interrupts, pulling a face to make Song laugh in the backseat. It occurs to her that this might be something of a double date.

And it's definitely a date, she realizes, or she hopes, because Katara has squeezed herself next to Song onto the vinyl covered cushion of the diner booth, and keeps knocking her knees into Song and, once, even holding her thigh flush against Song's. She eats off Song's plate with no remorse, encourages Song to do the same to her, and quietly flirts with Song for most of the meal. It's enough to give Song a pleasant whooping feeling in her gut that lasts the whole day.

The restaurant environment is certainly helping, Song loves diners. The way they all sort of look the same, the ridiculously long menus, the poor lighting, all of it. It's her and her mother's favorite place to go, and when she lived at home they used to go there almost every day, even if it was just for a cup of bad coffee. Song feels at home here, which is why she loves the diner so much.

Besides Katara's flirting, Song actually has a good time enjoying Mai and Zuko's company. Maybe he really was a different person when he stole her bike and ignored her at her own party, because now he's making an effort to include her in the conversation, filling in the gaps into which she might have fallen, being the odd one out in a group of friends who knew each other so well.

"We went to school together first," Zuko is explaining, gesturing to himself and Mai. "A different school, actually, one our parents wanted to go to. It was really close to our hometown. Caldera College."

"Our parents are in business together," Mai says. "Well, my father works for his father."

"And my father wanted me and my younger sister, Azula, to work for him too. But that, uh, didn't work out…" his hand moves to the scar on his face, and Song stifles a wince. "So I left the old school and came here. Well…"

"His Dad cut him off," Katara butts in. "But it was actually a good thing, here I met these guys." Zuko says with a small smile.

"Didn't start off as a good thing," Katara mutters, and here Zuko blushes, tilts his face to the table. "Yeah, those were my uh, my bike stealing years," he grimaces another apology at Song.

Katara yelps, it seems like Mai has kicked her under the table. "But we're good now," she adds brightly.

"Like I have to keep reminding you," Zuko says, raising his eyebrows, and now it's Katara's turn to look chagrined. Song wonders at their need to air their dirty laundry in public.

"And then I decided fuck my parents' business and followed Zuko here," Mai declares, setting her hand on top of Zuko's.

Song nods. It's a lot to process. "What about your sister?" she asks, wondering if this is the right question. 

Maybe not. The emotion runs from Mai's face like colors in the wash, her mouth settles into a dull line. Zuko sighs, and, next to Song, Katara huffs out a breath. "We're working on her," Katara explains.

"My Dad was working her to the bone, putting way too much pressure on her after I left," Zuko says. "Especially after I left," he adds to himself, and on the table Mai squeezes his hand. "She snapped, dropped out," Mai picks up from him. "We're trying to make sure she gets the help she needs."

"That's really hard, I'm sorry you have to go through that," Song offers, and Zuko nods. "She'll be okay," he says, face determined.

An awkward pause, but the first of the meal and the plates are nearly clean, so that's a success. "You don't have any siblings, right Song?" Katara asks.

"Mm-mm," Song shakes her head. "Just me and my mom," and Katara nods, which she was expecting, but then Zuko does too, and maybe they have more in common than she'd thought.

"Mai has a younger brother," Katara volunteers, and Mai rolls her eyes but tells them an adorable story about Tom Tom regardless.

"That was...nice," Song says truthfully, when they've dropped her back at her place and she's got Katara on her doorstep.

"They're alright, huh? I thought you'd like them," Katara says happily.

Song, feeling warm and full of eggs and lukewarm coffee, has the confidence to say "maybe they're not the only ones I like," eyes catching Katara's before dropping to her doorstep.

"Yeah," Katara says softly, hand reaching towards hers. "I--"

She's cut off by the sound of the horn. Katara turns and Song sees that Mai's got a hand on the horn while Zuko sits by looking pained. Katara gives them the finger before turning back to Song. "I like you t--"

The horn again. "Katara, let's go!" Mai shouts, and Katara rolls her eyes and Song smiles. "I'll see you at our next study session?" she offers.

"Yeah," Katara says, looking relieved, "I'll see you then." She waved goodbye, bounds off the porch toward the car, opens the back door while yelling "jesus christ, Mai, I'm here, calm down."

Song unlocks the door of her house, still smiling, and heads inside.

***

Katara and Song meet, one last time, to go over the paper. It takes them ages, both of them are deliberately dragging it out. They go through it one line at a time, taking turns reading the paragraph aloud and double, triple checking the references. When it's finally over, i's crossed and t's dotted, Katara's hand hovers over the trackpad of her laptop, mouse on the 'submit' button. "Are we ready?" she asks one more time.

"You're sure it's cool with Pakku if we do breast cancer?" Song clarifies, and Katara scoffs. "Oh, actually Song, I forgot to tell you, he's not cool with it and we're going to fail. Whoops!"

"Okay, okay," Song laughs. "We're ready, do it."

Katara takes a deep breath, clicks the trackpad. Project over.

"It's in the lap of the gods now," Song comments, and Katara nods, shutting her computer.

"Now what should we do?" she asks, and for the first time she's almost shy. It's utterly adorable, the light blush under her eyes, and Song steals herself and says "well, I'd like to kiss you now."

Katara stiffens beside her. "You should definitely do that," she says hastily, and Song laughs, reaches up slide her hand into Katara's hair and leans in, catching her lips.

It's perfect. Katara tastes like everything Song had imagined plus more. When she pulls back Katara chases her lips. "I think you should give that another go," she murmurs, and Song laughs again, happy to oblige.

It's even better the second time. They kiss for a while, lazy, and afterward, when they're resting their foreheads against each other, Katara speaks up.

"I think I'm going to take you on a proper date," she muses.

"I'd like that," Song answers happily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Burnsey for the nit!fic prompt?

The live action part of the heist videos crack me up but the newer ones are doubly hilarious because they’re always shoved into some tiny space that clearly isn’t meant for heist planning, you know?

So, like.

FAHC AU where Geoff and Burnie met way back when before the Fakes made it big and all that.

Geoff is some small-time criminal who’s doing well enough for himself that he can afford a halfway decent place to live.

Burnie’s been with LSPD for a few years now, has money saved up to get a somewhat decent place to live too.

Unbeknownst to one another they’re both interested in this place, right?

Decent-ish neighborhood with a few small businesses operating out of the same building and not ideal for most people, but neither of them are all that picky at the time, right? Don’t know they’re going through the same realtor or whatever and there’s a showing or whatever.

Burnie finds the place after getting turned around a time or two, apologizes to the receptionist in one of the businesses and she’s like, “No worries, happens all the time,” and points him in the right direction.

Geoff – gets turned around and meets a receptionist having a shit day so his experience is less friendly and helpful and he walks into the right place muttering to himself, right? Not paying attention and he literally bumps into Burnie out of all the best romcom meet-cutes that ever meet-cuted.

Only in this instance, Geoff is a wanted criminal and Burnie is diligent enough at his job he clearly recognizes him.

There’s this oh, shit moment for both of them – along with suspicion and paranoia because what are the fuckin’ odds they’d run into one another like this, right?

Burnie’s off-duty and Geoff’s playing average civilian and the whatnot, but still!

Mortal Enemies.

(Because reasons?)

Before either of them can react the realtor shows up, this sweet little old lady who’s a little forgetful but super adorable and all that. (Reminds them of their own grandmothers, you know?)

They freeze because like hell do either of them want to drag her into this mess, get her hurt, and also she’s totally oblivious to the whole Mortal Enemies thing going on over her head.

There’s this unspoken understanding to not start shit with her there, but!

Burnie can’t bring himself to just up and leave – no knowing what dastardly crime Geoff might commit he does. (And also, that asshole is totally laughing at him and like hell is he going to let him win…or something.)Geoff is just like. Totally laughing at the idiot cop – maybe they’ve run into one another before this while Geoff’s criminal-ing, right? And Burnie practically seething about not being able to arrest him or whatever because is hilarious as shit and he spends the whole time the realtor shows them around annoying the hell out of Burnie.

Neither of them get the place – tell the realtor they’ll think about it knowing they won’t. (Talk about terrible idea, okay. A criminal knowing where a cop lives is a recipe for disaster and vice versa for a cop knowing where a criminal lives.)

But!

It turns into a Thing between them, or rather Geoff turns it into a Thing.

First it’s just something to taunt Burnie about those early days just to ruffle Burnie’s feathers, but they keep running into one another. Either in the middle of Geoff being a criminal and Burnie trying to bring him in, and sometimes when they’re both off the clock, so to speak.

Turns into an inside joke between them as time goes by and they become – not friends, because wow, no, just.

Something.

The taunting and teasing goes from being cutting, mean to something softer. (Flirty, some might say.)

Burnie helps clear Geoff’s name when someone tries to pin a crime on him he didn’t actually commit that might have fucked him over a few times. (He wants Geoff behind bars, sure, but for the right reasons and all that?)

And Geoff does the same for Burnie when some asshole is trying to make him look like a crooked cop. (He’s an asshole, but he’s not on the take, okay?)

They save each other’s lives at least once, because of course they do and eventually their closest friends realize they’re the only two people in all of Los Santos who doesn’t realize they’re totally in love. (Like. It’s sad, really.)

But anyway, anyway, all that’s backstory, okay?

Setting up the whole Thing where the Fakes are a Big Deal and Burnie makes police commissioner and they’re both stupidly in love with one another and annoyed about it? (Still assholes after all these years and ridiculous with it.)

Burnie’s made major strides in cleaning up the LSPD and rooting out crooked cops and politicians.

Geoff and his asshole crew are more of Robin Hood and his merry band (but like, more assholish about  it because come on.)

Geoff’s started this tradition with the crew that whenever they plan a heist they borrow an office or storage room or whatever to do it at police HQ. (Because he lives for making Burnie’s life a misery when he can, okay. One of life’s small pleasures and all that.)

Brazen as anything, they waltz on in and go to town planning their heists knowing Burnie will find out and be absolutely furious because what kind of idiots are they?

Either they go in wearing disguises and IDs where no one knows anything until they leave? OR they just decide that is a day they give no fucks and are all but daring whoever they run into to do something about it. (The shock of the Fakes being that goddamned ballsy about things buys them time to get the hell out before the shooting starts.)

But also?

The cops or whoever else working there are just like, fuck, because this weird way of flirting Geoff and Burnie have is super ridiculous at this point.

And to be fair, the two of them have totally had dinner dates and the whatnot over the years even if neither of them would call them that.

…Well, Geoff might, because he’s a bastard. Burnie just calls it Geoff being a pain in his side all this time.

(Burnie thinking he’s going to be meeting with an Informant or something, right? Arranging a table at some restaurant or a booth at a bar somewhere and nervous because what if the wrong people catch him at it? Enemies who’d put him down without a thought or someone looking to paint him as just another slick-talking cop on the take.

Just about to walk out because the anonymous source he’s supposed to meet with obviously bailed on him and then that asshole Geoff plops himself down across the table or booth from Burnie. Smirk on his face as he grabs a menu or calls one of the waitstaff over and Burnie is like “Oh, you fucker,” realizing he’s been had again -

And Geoff – still smirking – tells him he has no idea what’s got Burnie so riled up and then proceeds to rile him up even more.

Waits until Burnie’s about to lose his shit before letting him know that Geoff was his informant all along, or the Fakes picked Burnie’s source up because hey Did they know someone put a price on the poor fuckers head?

Lot of zeros attached and if Ryan wasn’t on one of his murder breaks Burnie would be shit out of luck, but as it is, the Fakes have Burnie’s source hidden away for safekeeping.

Also, does Burnie recommend anything on the menu or should Geoff just go with the house special?

And other encounters along those lines and honestly, honestly, the two of them are so married it’s kind of sickening.)

Anyway, anyway, when words gets to Burnie the Fakes did it again, he storms right on down to give Geoff a piece of his mind, you know?

The others left a long time ago, but Geoff’s still hanging around.

Either kicking back with his feet up on the conference table or ~ambushing Burnie in an empty hallway to give him that crooked little grin of his that’s always more of a smirk and “Hey, asshole, long time no see,” and Burnie’s is just so >:(((((((((((((((((( because Jesus Christ, Geoff.

Breaking into police HQ in the middle of the day for goddamned shenanigans? AGAIN?

Geoff just >:DDDDDDD because yes, and also, Burnie’s cops people are real dumb, and – again – hey.

(Burnie’s people – the ones loyal to him and his ~cause aren’t, really.  Just resigned to the Fakes and their antics and this whole Thing between Burnie and Geoff everyone knows about but damned if they know what to do about it, you know?)

And then maybe a smooch – stolen, of course, because Geoff’s a notorious criminal and stealing is what he does – and this little smile and soft sigh from Burnie because what the hell is he going to do with this asshole?

(He finds a slip of paper in his pocket later, when he’s up in his office and Geoff’s long gone. Dinner reservations at this place they like and so on and Burnie just sighs again because it’s as good of an answer as anything else.)

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: pick me up Joe: rude you clearly did without me Joe: but I'll be able to do a twofer, yeah 👌 Joe: send your distress signal so I know where to point Ronnie: [wherever she's been working for a hot sec, I dread to think lol] Joe: you making a complaint about their cold-calls in person? Joe: tick off initiative on your CV Ronnie: my sides have split & it aint fuck all to the piss poor stitching Joe: see how far we can stretch your guts either side of you, fun Joe: did you self-sew or see one of your gun-wielding pals? different principle tats and triage Ronnie: then you can play a round of guess how much of this blood is mine, get yourself proper going Joe: too kind, stop me from charging the going rate for a while yet 🚖 Joe: what office supply did you use though Joe: if you were too cliche, you are going to have to sit up front and talk to me, proper cabbie punishment Ronnie: everything got nicked day 1 baby they werent about to waste any staples keeping shit on desks Ronnie: phone & a script is your lot Joe: there any drug we can act like anyone's calling it oscar on the street? Joe: you fully Joe Pesci'd someone with the phone, yeah? 👏 Ronnie: any gear that should go straight in the bin Ronnie: call it oscar Joe: you are wasted on 0 hour contracts, my dear Ronnie: not wasted enough for em Joe: join me at your local overpriced shit coffee dealer Joe: our bathrooms couldn't pass a piss test but they all only want the ⬆pers Joe: 💔 Ronnie: ill have an escort if you dont get a fucking move on Ronnie: you got enough student spends to feed coffee & doughnuts to the full force yeah Joe: say lucky you but security guards got as many hairs on their head as they got IQ points Joe: lot down Soho are decent conversationalists, unlike Daz and Gaz Joe: I did just get this terms though so hold on and you can help me 🔥 through it Ronnie: i dont get turned on by einstein & his pals mckenna thats your wank fuel Ronnie: easiest way to get a cunt off my back is to put him on his Joe: he only banged his cousin, that's nothing to waste energy on Ronnie: 💔 none of your cousins look enough like your mam for you Joe: why do you think i was searching Joe: daring to dream Ronnie: give a fuck about your nancy drew fantasies Ronnie: that schoolgirl shit is tapped Joe: the catholic schoolgirl uniforms have been overstated Joe: not all that in person, be the review Joe: nuns though, yeah Joe: enough mild peril to manage Ronnie: charlie will be gutted youve switched from homos to dykes Joe: you're the only one who's guts I wanna play around Joe: I'll break it to him nicely Joe: doughnuts, yeah Ronnie: consolation hole Ronnie: youve had shitter ideas Joe: it was yours, in fairness Joe: dunno about offering up my hole to every bloke at the met but if I put my foot down shouldn't be an issue Ronnie: i dont reckon a consolation footjob is gonna cut it Ronnie: not my first offence Joe: giving away how highly you think of my 🍑 Joe: what happened then, beyond telemarketing being worse than shitting out razorblades Ronnie: you wish you had 1 whitey Joe: says you Ronnie: if i had any curves theyd be cut off by now Joe: junkie chic before the habit Joe: some girls have all the luck Ronnie: lucky i need your bullshit heroics for this or id send you on a fools errand to sleuth the pieces out of landfill Joe: white knight > jester Joe: not my usual style, but for you I'll make an exception Ronnie: unless youre gonna say your horse fucking girlfriend dressed you the other night ive already seen it like Joe: you think her thing is budget kurt cobain? Joe: or that she's blind Ronnie: be blind by now if you catholics arent full of shit about touching yourself too much Ronnie: homesick for the horse & rejected by you Joe: what do you think its called Joe: my bets are on some boy band member she fancied when she was 11 and daddy was gutted Ronnie: or the 1st lad she wanted to meet round the back of the bike sheds Joe: you're such a romantic Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: im thinking like a basic white bitch from kent or wherever the fuck you said Joe: you do it well Joe: no way her school had anything common like bikesheds though so knocking a point off Joe: getting fingered on the hellipad is more voyeuristic but has less of a charm about it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: shes gonna be charmed by the namedrop Joe: return the favour Joe: she's making me help her with her coursework Ronnie: plaster cast of your cock and then what Ronnie: tell her you aint no hendrix & its been done Joe: charlie wishes, whitey Joe: I'll cc 'em both in about my disappointing dick Ronnie: ill pass on gaz & daz numbers Joe: god I hope the plaster ain't dried Ronnie: god aint listening to you nancy Joe: adds up Joe: that kind of dad, technically always keep an eye but going in one ear and out the other Joe: 💔 woe is me Ronnie: irish catholics aint got fuck all going on between the ears she werent in it for that Joe: fucked me up with her shit genetics then Joe: you manage to get a pen? Joe: shove it in my ear and dig it out Ronnie: pull it out of my neck & you can stick it where you like Joe: we'll let the blood piss out 'til it feels right Ronnie: im the romantic Ronnie: shut up Joe: alright, you need to be conscious to woo me Ronnie: couldve fooled me Joe: dead girls pale in comparison Joe: 💘 Ronnie: the boners you lot have got for open caskets over there i dont reckon youve ever seen a dead girl the proper colour Joe: just said you were #1 but you've got to be 1 and only, yeah? Ronnie: in your fever dreams mckenna Ronnie: i aint looking that much like your ma however much slap i put on Joe: you're prettier than her Ronnie: now you want me to drink bleach instead of having a bath in it Ronnie: make up your fucking mind like Joe: just knew that would wind you up Joe: gotta bring out some cliches Joe: you're perfect just the way you are, you know Ronnie: drop dead Joe: god willing Joe: he's being fucking slow about it, despite my best efforts Ronnie: ill give it my best shot if you keep on Joe: another one for the cv Ronnie: find it written in my blood shit & bile on this wall Ronnie: thats your girlfriends coursework aced for her Joe: beats the lecture I'm skipping out on by miles Ronnie: no shit none of em are dressed like nuns Joe: none of 'em hate me like you either Joe: so damn likeable, its a curse Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about all your teachers trying to pet you Ronnie: childhoods over golden boy Joe: and all without me getting molested once Joe: by any nuns or teachers anyway Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: why youre such an annoying cunt Joe: abuse really humbles you, does it Joe: builds character Ronnie: gives you something to properly cry about Joe: got nothing on the shit my brain can make up Joe: idle hands and all that Ronnie: yeah youre so special baby Joe: it's just being mental or not Joe: if you ain't, you can go through whatever fucked up shit and be alright still Joe: if you're mental nothing even needs to happen and you'll be worse off Joe: some of us ain't got a chance from conception Ronnie: tell me something i dont know Ronnie: poster child for not having a fucking chance & any mental problems they wanna attach Joe: you better pay for more ad space Joe: call it karma, or dodgy genetics Joe: but I make a great case for abortion Ronnie: like i said before not one that needs to be put to me Ronnie: had more of em than youve had misery boners Joe: won't make you tell me about 'em Joe: no way you'd be as descriptive as the furious pro-lifers who act like the baby is fit to crawl out when you kill it Ronnie: hot Ronnie: shouldve called 1 of em to pick me up instead Joe: condemnation and loathing is meant to be my thing Ronnie: sharings meant to be your thing too yeah? Joe: only when it's inadvisable Ronnie: only when you wanna Joe: if you got to play oldest you'd know that's sadly untrue Ronnie: stuck being the cliche middle kid between fitz & the other one Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: seeking attention and approval because you're overlooked and under-appreciated? Joe: it's why 3 is a good number, any more and you've got multiple middle kids Joe: maybe I don't wanna fuck my mum, just missing all 3 of my own so much 🙄 Ronnie: they wish anyone could overlook me Ronnie: & you deffo do wanna fuck her so thats shit on your thesis Joe: yeah, sounds just like them Joe: suits you Joe: like the basic white bitch thing Ronnie: go fuck your mam Ronnie: im too tired for this Joe: you won't have no early start tomorrow sound of Ronnie: didnt have an early start today Ronnie: thats what kicked off this bullshit Joe: fair enough Joe: who wants a cold call at 7am Ronnie: the cunt who runs the place will be getting 1 off me til he pays me Joe: lucky him Joe: might wanna stay in your debt longer, romantic that you are Joe: attention very flattering Ronnie: what im hearing is i should tell his missus some fucking fairytale about the attention he was giving me Ronnie: everyonell be made up with the lie Joe: could do Joe: like your flair Joe: or I could come in, tell him you're mental and that he didn't make adequate allowances for you but now you're too traumatized to come back so he should just pay and we won't have to sue Joe: might get damages on top Ronnie: who are you my fucking school age carer like Joe: i'm believable, and more palatable than you outwardly Joe: anyway i look older Ronnie: than what 12 Joe: you have a baby face Joe: i look like i've not slept in as many years Joe: which is pretty accurate, as it goes Ronnie: do i fuck Ronnie: i look like ive shaken a baby to death Joe: child on child crime Joe: shocking headlines there, like that scottish girl who was fucked then got out and was someone's gran like she didn't kill a toddler Ronnie: see how palatable you are when I kick your teeth in Joe: it's a curse Joe: if you wanna lift it and be my hero instead of it being this way 'round Joe: love you forever, like Ronnie: ill lift your wallet fuck the rest Joe: already offered you my money Joe: not even a challenge, soft touch Ronnie: like youve ever been challenged soft lad Joe: go on Ronnie: youre already going on loads Joe: bet you've never heard about the traffic in this city, have ya Ronnie: fuck it ill go lay in it Joe: 😍 Ronnie: save the pillow talk for when youre offering me somewhere else to sleep Ronnie: would let you fuck me for entry to horse girls en suite if theres a bath in it Joe: where's your bed gone Ronnie: its got a hysterical homo in it whos only gonna get himself in more of a fanny flap cause ive been sacked Ronnie: ill take the wreckage of a 4 car pile up or whatever Joe: gotcha Joe: how long 'fore he calms it Ronnie: how long are you offering to spend buying him drinks & cupping his balls Joe: i get it Joe: you wanna wifeswap Joe: not just her art assignment you're interested in Joe: but you can just take my bed, I'm always falling asleep on the sofa or up the table and she'll relish at more chance to watch me sleeping Ronnie: your room got a 🔒 Joe: yeah but you're alright, it's on the inside Joe: not going to get fritzl about it Ronnie: youd need more than that to keep me in Ronnie: which youd know if you were earning off dealing with my mental problems Joe: not giving you a challenge either, don't get hysterical yourself like Ronnie: you couldnt like Ronnie: bigger pussy than your basic white girlfriend Joe: oh god stop talking about it Joe: i'll be sick Ronnie: no stomach for any kind of challenge Joe: you crack on Joe: i'll stick to 🍩 Ronnie: not so needy for some clean piss that ill be licking her out for it Joe: you should write this song for me Ronnie: whats in it for me Ronnie: got all your spends on a promise as is Joe: the fame and full writing credits, obviously Ronnie: fuck off obviously Joe: that's how we know you're not really a middle kid Ronnie: more shit you can come at your ma with Joe: I'll save it for the next holiday Ronnie: 💘 Joe: what about your dad Ronnie: i dont reckon hes up for another go on her if youre there watching Joe: 💔 Joe: i meant do you know what happened to him Joe: you might have more interesting half brothers out there, what I'm thinking Ronnie: got no interest in little fucking kids Joe: so you do know Joe: did he come find you or what Ronnie: dont get jealous nance Ronnie: did it myself like Joe: he meet your expectations Ronnie: what kind of fucking soft shit is that Ronnie: get a grip mckenna he aint rich Joe: a no would suffice Joe: though it's adorable you really kicked it like Annie over it Joe: you could've said you had none, or you expected him to be dead or worse, a useless cunt Ronnie: why would i say fuck all to you about it Joe: too painful too private Joe: gotcha Ronnie: wank over your own parents when i aint waiting Joe: the fact you've not implied I'd prematurely cum in my pants Joe: you're so full of hope it's equal parts inspiring and worrying Ronnie: get out of my face before i kick yours in Ronnie: everyone who aint gone blind can see youre a virgin Joe: don't be jealous, sid Ronnie: you cant tell your older sister what to do baby Ronnie: that aint how this works Joe: it wasn't good ever Ronnie: course youre crying about that too Ronnie: fucking hell Joe: just trying to ease your jealousy Joe: anyway, you'll be pleased to know the lacklustre results were down to my lack of trying, not theirs Ronnie: 1 less dose of the clap & i might still be fertile now thats fucking worrying Ronnie: keep your status choir boy Joe: bit cliche far as fantasies go but alright Ronnie: you started it Ronnie: trying to make me feel special Joe: no need to try is there Ronnie: not now my gag reflex has been triggered Joe: like that ain't been decimated by now too Ronnie: youre learning Ronnie: your teachersll be made up Joe: hope for the molestation yet? Joe: nice Ronnie: ease your 💔 & limp dick Joe: calm down Joe: might get attached Ronnie: do your grades the world of good Joe: you wanna help me with my homework? Ronnie: youre that shit in the sack you still wont get an a after giving your teachers a going over Ronnie: unlucky like Joe: so you can help me Joe: what else you gonna do whilst you're hiding from charlie Ronnie: use your imagination Joe: no need Joe: you'll be sharing Ronnie: cant stop you kicking the door in Ronnie: its yours Joe: just the needle, not the bed, like Joe: you're fine Ronnie: yeah youll be between horse girls sheets Joe: don't reckon she's strong enough to carry me Ronnie: only has to strap a saddle on Joe: 😂 Ronnie: fuck knows what she would fill your nose bag with Joe: the surprise is the fun part Ronnie: dont come crying to me when its oscar Joe: if she was half as interesting as you're making out, might stand a chance of working Joe: as it goes, probably be granola Ronnie: stick her thatll make her more your type Joe: come on Joe: she don't look a thing like my mother Ronnie: fucks sake when shes under get a 🔪 Ronnie: do your best like Joe: i keep telling you i'm not one for trying Ronnie: trying not to cry is as far as it goes yeah Joe: even my kiddy medicine cuts that shit off Joe: ain't been able to since I was 12 Joe: not that there was much call for it, my perfect life with mummy dearest Ronnie: the other week before you met me then Ronnie: gutted i broke your streak Joe: you sure you ain't interested in little fucking kids Joe: rearrange that sentence and Freud is having a field day Ronnie: make the effort to get here before i start to rot Ronnie: not trying to make that cunts day or yours Joe: you'd have liked him Ronnie: he rich off peddling that bullshit to the masses Joe: yeah and he reckoned cocaine was the cure for heroin addiction so he really knew a good time Ronnie: sounds like my not boyfriend Joe: oh yeah? Joe: well his grandson was cooler Joe: he fucked kate moss when he was like 70 Ronnie: anyone written a song about that Joe: maybe pete did Joe: he was a painter though so he painted her with her kit off, obviously Joe: reckon it's free for us to give it a crack Ronnie: your girlfriend painted you yet or what Joe: she wants to Ronnie: no shit mckenna Ronnie: every cunt there nearly fucking went arse over tit in the puddle she was sat in at that gig Joe: so that's what that sticky feeling was Ronnie: her juices or charlies Joe: that's called mixed media Joe: potential bio-hazard for her profs though Ronnie: worst theyre gonna get off her is thrush Ronnie: never met a bitch so clean Joe: yeah Joe: boring Ronnie: i told you to kill her last time you started being a baby about it Joe: you can have homicidal, sis Joe: boring but harmless Ronnie: cocaines harmless after heroin you & freud are still pussy enough to call it a party Joe: why it's a cure Joe: get you from comatose to semi-functioning Ronnie: she could be a cure too Ronnie: cold turkey Joe: weren't searching for a cure Joe: am i coming in or are you coming out Joe: can't see you Ronnie: cause youre comatose Ronnie: gutted this ex boss aint a cokehead Joe: not far off Joe: he your not boyfriend or is that just what we're telling the wife Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: he couldnt fund your baby habit nevermind mine Joe: we going there first then Ronnie: yeah Joe: if we get your wages, we don't have to Joe: [come in boy] Ronnie: [a look like go on impress me by getting these wages boy] Joe: [when you can give it social worker chat 'cos what Tess does and the whole beeline of it all like you can be convincing enough that he's breaking some kind of equality law by sacking her without pay lol] Ronnie: [love that for you Joseph even if she won't let you know she's impressed and also lowkey triggered by that social worker energy] Joe: [honestly, lbr this man surely just wants you gone, won't take too much persuading] Ronnie: [literally and he's clearly in some way shady if he's 1. employed her and also 2. not called the police on her rn] Joe: [no leg to stand on sir, love this shakedown for you] Ronnie: [I bet they're all illegals and people being exploited] Joe: [its a mood, as in happens all the time esp. in cities, least you can hit him up again lads, long as he don't get y'all beaten up or something lol] Ronnie: [tbf if you do get beaten up that's a mood too] Joe: [yeah, when they find out you are not social and just taking their money lol] Ronnie: [love a scam] Joe: [the kind of nonsense have your mother rolling in her grave she's not in, love that we're starting that now] Ronnie: [I approve of the vibe, start as you mean to go on lads, all before you've made his poor flatmate wanna die lol] Joe: [poor gal did not ask for you as a flatmate let alone all this lol] Ronnie: [do you wanna skip to like when she's back and Ronnie's in his room or whatever because easy way to keep the convo going without needing it to be face to face] Joe: [works for me henny] Ronnie: [your turn to start boo] Joe: doubt she'll leave her room any time soon now Ronnie: 💔 Joe: yeah poor girl Joe: saying you got free reign, if you need anything Ronnie: i had it before Ronnie: not scared of her like Joe: nah Joe: what about charlie then Joe: or you just don't wanna upset him Ronnie: yeah terrified Ronnie: well sleuthed nancy Joe: that he'll get sick of you, maybe Ronnie: i fucking told you we aint the kind of family who get rid Joe: yeah Ronnie: dont project onto me Ronnie: we aint nothing alike Joe: i'm the one sick of them Joe: if anything Ronnie: yeah & he aint fuck all like you either Joe: I can see that Ronnie: youve seen him once dont flatter yourself Joe: and it's that obvious Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: what? Joe: i only need to know one half the equation to know we're not the same Joe: it's a compliment to him if fuck all else Ronnie: give it to him then Ronnie: hell lap it up Joe: i told you it's nice Joe: what you lot got Joe: but i'm not looking to get in on it if that's what you reckon Ronnie: take what you want pussy Joe: that's not your thing? Ronnie: what we cant both do it Joe: potentially Ronnie: dont remember you having any hesitation to share a needle Ronnie: grow a pair when youre not getting shot up Ronnie: maybe the dayll come when i dont have to spoon feed you the gear like a fucking kid Joe: i'd have to work out if i want anything but first Ronnie: yeah Joe: is it all you want Joe: the heroin Ronnie: mind your fucking business Joe: alright Joe: do you want to do my next tattoo or what Ronnie: i said take what you fucking want Joe: [come through with ink you've undoubtedly stole from your flatmate, also being more spacey/twitchy than normal like distract me gal] Ronnie: [love how old school & gross we're kicking this tattoo situation unlike when Ali does it] Joe: [which is absolutely the point, how your arms and legs don't fall off lol] Ronnie: [their other ones probably wouldn't have even healed yet cos lbr it's gonna be no time in between these interactions] Joe: [just loads of lowkey open wounds, like that isn't life anyway] Ronnie: [mhmm they'd be fucked already too cos they are so itchy when they are healing and y'all don't have chill] Joe: [all the reason for constant touch ups/ messing with so it casually never heals #mood] Ronnie: [I didn't think of that but I stan] Joe: [casual metaphor for your everything lads] Ronnie: [you know you can do anything to her tattoowise yourself Joseph she don't care] Joe: [probably doing some weird repitition moment you'd usually do on yourself which will be painful af excuse you] Ronnie: [she do love the pain you're fine] Joe: [good thing too, we're just here fucking each other up like this ain't gonna go anywhere else lolllllll] Ronnie: [way more #into it than I should be considering I don't  even like when people shout lol] Joe: [you babby, they are not, obviously we're getting and taking drugs even if she's too naive to know why they're in such a state, maybe they can make a dealer come to them when they're feeling fancy/have already had loads lol] Ronnie: [take a moment to appreciate how few clothes she is wearing rn and how much that means this poor gal can and would see like we've got track marks and self harm scars for days even before you start on the tattoos lol, you're gonna get clued in before she leaves hen] Joe: [honestly props for not running home screaming tbh babe] Ronnie: [especially when this dealer comes because he ain't Drew like he should be scary af] Joe: [lowkey makes you work for it even when you're paying 'cos hates junkies] Ronnie: [at least she can basically fuck him in full view for Joe's benefit because the vibe is already there haha] Joe: [i truly love thinking about what the hell you're telling the flatmate when she leaves, she's not that stupid, also must fancy you if she doesn't report you immediately lol] Ronnie: [she definitely does that's not just Ronnie's bpd jealousy shining through like did you tell her you were related after the gig or what even Joseph what's the narrative] Joe: [also, entirely unrelated, when you bleaching your hair 'cos it looks so much better lol, anyways, he's probably had to go with a troubled sister narrative 'cos she's the type to be sympathetic and it makes sense why he'd deal from her pov] Ronnie: [that's gonna make the obvious sexual tension awkward but yeah I vote they definitely do it while she's staying because same vibe as the tattoo sesh so] Joe: [ikr, when you're blatantly fucking this will be very confusing, you should deffo only be about 1st year lol] Ronnie: [are you gonna give him another different flatmate in year 2 or like none?] Joe: [maybe for year 2  on you can still have some like a house share moment but he's the one you never see and has nothing to do with you] Ronnie: [that works definitely cos like I was just thinking how could he afford somewhere on his own] Joe: [yeah, even if we're technically employed whilst in uni by the orchestra, it's not gonna be loads, and that's how London be even if you're not a student] Ronnie: [how long do we think she should stay for this time because obvs she's coming back again and again but] Joe: [hmm, like he isn't gonna tell her to go so it's on her for how long she can deal lol] Ronnie: [just cos I'm thinking she should leave because something happens/almost does and it freaks her out because she's meant to hate him and there's only so much you can play off as doing for shock value when you're blatantly into it] Joe: [that makes sense, clearly it ain't gonna take long for that to transpire] Ronnie: [yeah a few days is what I'm imagining, but like enough that she probably thinks nothing will happen because it hasn't so far, if that makes sense] Joe: [i'm with it] Ronnie: [how far do we wanna go is always the question] Ronnie: [okay idea time, hear me out hun, what if it's like an unexpectedly pure/cute moment by their standards that happens in the day to day because the obvious would be to have them go all in when they are fucked up but like think about it] Joe: [that's what I thought too though 'cos it's more impactful 'cos it isn't as if it's gonna start with a kiss when it does for real like it's all extra and them to cover that it's about anything but being fucked up, so that would shake you both] Ronnie: [so glad we're on the same page here, like I can't think of a good example of what I mean/think should happen but] Joe: [we know the vibe, doing something vaguely domestic before realizing what you're doing] Ronnie: [so she gotta run away and nobody is gonna know where she is or what she's doing for a bit soz Charlie & Bronson] Joe: [you wanna skip to that time period now, this hasn't been excessively long or anything[ Ronnie: [we totally can because we can always skip back/add it if we think of anything else we wanna do while she's there etc] Ronnie: [I've had a potential idea how to start this so neither of them technically has to bite the bullet and go first like if you give me a rough idea what kind of thing Charlie would say e.g where are you/are you dead bitch and I'll reply here like she's in the wrong convo lol] Joe: [that's a good idea boo, probably something like you can stop hiding now and an update about whatever the fuck he's up to in his life which you can make up you know the vibe lol] Ronnie: [I was just like realistically if they were both shook by what happened neither of them are gonna be like oh hey] Joe: [yeah like it'd take him a while even if he would 'cos not just gonna let this go that easy, so it's a solid way to do it] Ronnie: a real scouse ma's meant to shout down the street when its time to stop playing about Ronnie: lazy cunt Joe: I'm only half if I'm anything, and you probably won't give me that any rate Ronnie: 🖕 not talking to you Ronnie: got the wrong gaylord Joe: easy mistake Joe: you not got his number saved? Ronnie: if this was my phone yeah Joe: newly acquired then Ronnie: mine broke Joe: my condolences Joe: wall or pavement? Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter Joe: just making conversation whilst you're here Ronnie: if youve got something to say go ed Ronnie: but if youre gonna pussy out as per it got waterlogged Joe: you dying for the uni update like my ma is a top performance, cheers, like Joe: rice didn't work or you didn't fancy eating toilet water rice after Ronnie: loads in common me & her aint just a pretty face like Ronnie: dont know what kind of fucking 12 year old in a k hole at a festival you take me for mckenna Joe: yeah, it's a shame Joe: soph says save some for the 🐎s Ronnie: cold showers work better for misery boners than they do a suspected od but these fucking amateurs aint know jack shit obviously Ronnie: shame & shameful that is Joe: I'm a better sesh companion Ronnie: ill take the 🐴 Ronnie: whole or in bits Joe: seems the possessive type Ronnie: thats your bitch Joe: who I meant but I ain't claiming her Ronnie: bet shed be made up over a uni update Joe: bold of you to assume we haven't had many delightful lunch dates whilst you've been having cold showers Ronnie: give a fuck if youve been eating her out at any time of day Joe: yeah well I'm pretty gutted you've replaced me with another newbie Ronnie: stop fucking crying Ronnie: i aint running a nursery Joe: ain't the only one sounds of your reply Ronnie: fuck off Joe: reckon he's over you getting the sack now Ronnie: not everythings about that mary Ronnie: & he aint my keeper Joe: just your mum, I got the message Ronnie: he reckons he can baby me it aint the same thing Joe: he's older than you yeah Ronnie: youve got a sister other than me dont act like you cant get your head round it Joe: not really my M.O. Ronnie: special yeah Joe: she's got a dad and another brother happy enough to oblige Ronnie: i dont need to puke up my good time Joe: thought your stomach and nerve were meant to be stronger than that Ronnie: whatever you think about me is bullshit baby Joe: just what you've put out there Ronnie: & yours is heroics just warning you this aint no od like Ronnie: aint gotta press eject Joe: you're typing Joe: don't think anyone knows you well enough to commit to the impression here Ronnie: talking Ronnie: everyone knows idle hands are dangerous Ronnie: but that dont mean i gotta keep em busy typing Joe: yeah Joe: know the feeling Ronnie: its used to my accent & everything Ronnie: more than i can say for the live cunts here Joe: you in 💘 with your phone that's dead cute Joe: its worse when you're angry Ronnie: not in 💘 with kent Ronnie: your girlfriend proper missold it Joe: fuck off are you in kent 😂 Ronnie: fucked you over if you were gonna come carry me out again Joe: acting like you didn't ask Joe: if you're going to now, do it, like Ronnie: if you dump her back home who the fucks keeping the leccy on Joe: only got a baby habit ain't I Ronnie: what so youre carrying me out & dumping me where Ronnie: anywhere near & im taking your money shithead Joe: we don't need electric Ronnie: how will you get off on me wearing your mams face in the dark Joe: would hate to waste your hard work, obviously Ronnie: what hard work Joe: liberating my mums face from her skull Ronnie: be my pleasure Ronnie: all play Joe: alright then Joe: i'll be able to keep up Ronnie: big talk for a 12 year old virgin Joe: hiding it kent you can't talk or type about it Ronnie: im not fucking hiding Joe: yeah right Ronnie: plain sight baby Joe: 40 miles Ronnie: & Joe: if you wanna play, you're gonna have to give me another clue Joe: know if i'm getting warm Ronnie: [a blurry picture clue] Ronnie: 💘 Joe: they new friends or old Ronnie: waste of a question Joe: how many do i have left Ronnie: 39 but if you need that many dont fucking bother Joe: you don't wanna disappointed so bad Ronnie: you disappoint me by coming out the same hole Joe: that don't have to matter Joe: plenty have Ronnie: yeah but i aint met the rest of your happy family Joe: you wanna Ronnie: 38 now Joe: it could've been a statement Ronnie: was it Joe: 39 for you Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: you wanted to go to the beach Ronnie: that a question or what soft lad Joe: ?* Ronnie: didnt know there was 1 Joe: it's a county you know Ronnie: how the fuck would i know that Ronnie: shut up Joe: do you wanna go to the beach Ronnie: i can drown you in the sink Joe: i didn't put you in the shower Joe: or your phone Ronnie: youd have been made up by how blue i went though Ronnie: well like a dead girl Joe: yeah? Joe: what's it feel like Ronnie: youll get your own go Ronnie: aint holding your hand forever like Joe: gutted Ronnie: you wont reckon so when you outgrow that baby habit Joe: i'd mind if you died Ronnie: give you something to cry about Ronnie: youd be fucking into it Joe: nah Joe: people who've got shit to mope on usually don't Joe: enjoy it too much don't I, can't be having it validated, takes the fun out Ronnie: most dont reckon a happy end would be cumming inside their ma Ronnie: youd enjoy having a reason to celebrate or trauma bond depending on her fucking take Joe: our mate freud would disagree Joe: she'd wear black for the rest of her life, if that's what you wanna hear Joe: but counting it as a question, 38 Ronnie: why the fuck would i wanna hear that Ronnie: be boss for her if she never shifted her bastard baby weight like Joe: 37 unless it's rhetorical Joe: i dunno what will make you feel better Ronnie: 38 wasn't a question in the first place you just counted it cause youre a cheating lil bitch Joe: what's the prize and why do you want it so much Ronnie: use your imagination fucks sake Ronnie: why do you always want your hand held Joe: waste of a question Joe: 'cos I'm such a mummy's boy duh Ronnie: if shed let you walk into the road i wouldnt be answering any of your pussy questions Ronnie: 💔 Joe: be a lot easier for all of us Joe: i'll throw myself in front of the tube, fuck up everyone's day Ronnie: ill pick myself up from kent then yeah Joe: oh so you've claimed selfish have you Ronnie: no shit nancy drew Ronnie: fitz is still crying that i 💉 you up Joe: bless Joe: you're not claiming what got me there Ronnie: cant i wasnt fucking there Joe: then don't feel guilty Ronnie: dont fucking flatter yourself Ronnie: could care less Joe: you who's trying Ronnie: taking away a question if youre gonna lie Joe: not 12, not a virgin, don't need you to hold my hand Joe: i wanted to and want to Ronnie: made up horse girl took it while i was away Joe: yeah Ronnie: get yourself checked for 🐴 aids or whatever Joe: could care less is right Ronnie: bullshit youll be gutted if you dick falls off before you put it in your ma Joe: talking about how much you do Ronnie: what are big sisters for Ronnie: ask the other one & hell stutter round how much i dont too Joe: it's not the same Ronnie: you aint special mckenna how many times Ronnie: let your ma feed you that bullshit Ronnie: & fuck knows what youve already caught from my blood Joe: bit late for warnings Ronnie: you had one first time we met like Ronnie: got eyes Joe: exactly Joe: i'm not gonna take the hint Ronnie: too subtle for you yeah Joe: if you think you could be any more blatant Joe: have fun trying Ronnie: i am Ronnie: kent dont know what hit it Joe: i bet Joe: where have you been but some strangers doss house then Joe: and that is a question Ronnie: fuck knows Ronnie: been a blur Joe: you know its about 1,500 square miles yeah Joe: remember one landmark Ronnie: you know youre only getting any fucking answers cause im coming down Joe: we don't have to play this game Joe: if you tell me where you are, you'll be picked up quicker and then you can get whatever you need Ronnie: [a location, lord only knows] Joe: alright Ronnie: for you getting high of your bullshit heroics Joe: if it makes you feel better that you need rescuing Ronnie: do i fuck Joe: then you just wanna see me Joe: either way Ronnie: shut up Joe: what's better for you? Ronnie: your money then your life Joe: very adam ant Joe: and can be arranged Joe: even though you don't have a horse or a car so I'm more of a highwayman than you Ronnie: i aint getting on your gilfriends horse i know where its been Joe: 😏 Joe: you can just admit she's more up for it than you Ronnie: admit youre fucking brain damaged Ronnie: let her be up for hand holding & playing house Joe: what are big sisters for Ronnie: beating the shit out of you Joe: look forward to it Ronnie: yeah youve missed me Joe: not afraid to say it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: no names & you can play it for any bitch Joe: thanks for the hot tip Joe: kill some time on this drive Ronnie: shouldve stuck your judy in the boot Ronnie: be eye spy & red car the whole fucking way Joe: haven't put the plastic sheet down Joe: 💔 short notice Ronnie: so torch it Ronnie: i know youve always got a lighter on you Joe: what gave it away Ronnie: ive got eyes baby Joe: try not to wear it on my sleeve though Ronnie: done a shit job there Joe: why do you show yours off Ronnie: whats the point of only feeling it on the inside Joe: doing it is feeling it on the outside Ronnie: im what they fucking made me they can look at it Joe: that makes sense Joe: yeah Ronnie: what the hell are you scared of Joe: I dunno Joe: doesn't feel like fear Joe: blending in or disappearing has always been preferable Ronnie: & you have the balls to reckon im hiding here Joe: it ain't hiding if no fucker's looking Joe: easier for them and me, like Ronnie: if you gave a shit about easier you wouldnt have looked for me Joe: it was last-ditch attempt Joe: see if you were the same, like all of them too Joe: or not Joe: and you're not Ronnie: cause she ditched me Joe: maybe Ronnie: i didnt have the luxury of blending in Joe: it's not a luxury Ronnie: not when you have it Ronnie: care kids dont Joe: not at all Joe: it was a necessity to not blow my brains out and all i ended up was cracked and wishing i had Joe: you didn't have a family to not belong in Ronnie: & you did em such a massive fucking favour by not ending it all yeah Ronnie: i dont know you or fucking care & i can tell youre desperate to Joe: if she can't get over you, and she never stuck around to know you Joe: it's fuck all to do with the person and everything to do with the label Joe: son, brother Joe: you're meant to care even if life is better or basically the same without Ronnie: good fucking thing i like downers Ronnie: youd ruin an e Joe: cheers Ronnie: get over her for fucks sake Ronnie: keep saying youre not 12 Joe: didn't have that luxury Ronnie: loads more cunts willing to fuck you over Ronnie: live a little like Joe: yeah that'll make it worth it Joe: dead inspirational Ronnie: try your other sister Joe: i'm sure she'd have even more helpful advice Ronnie: take it then Ronnie: ill kill you before i give you a reason to live Joe: you know i ain't fucking looking for one Ronnie: yeah Joe: you need anything Ronnie: i didnt tell you were to get fuck all out of it Joe: apart from a lift Ronnie: what do you reckon Joe: kk Ronnie: 💘 Joe: still not healed Joe: also looks like jobn now Ronnie: anything to make you feel special baby Joe: what I reckon Ronnie: i didnt reckon ocd made you that delusional Ronnie: but when you change it to say jobs youll blend right in Joe: not quite as fitting as when johnny did it Ronnie: whats your girlfriends name Joe: i'll find one to make it fit Joe: josie or jody maybe Ronnie: 💔 no decent gear has a girls name Joe: girls like to party not nod out Joe: gutted Ronnie: ive got a lads name i get why youre confused Joe: you didn't wanna change it Ronnie: you offering up the cash Joe: bit of a waste Joe: just for the paperwork Ronnie: yeah it is Joe: you dunno what to pick Ronnie: swear words aint allowed Joe: don't matter if you're just doing it, telling new people it's your name like Ronnie: not an underage tranny Joe: right Ronnie: bit fucking late now Joe: youre attached Ronnie: i dont care Joe: yeah Ronnie: not what i hate her for Joe: it's a lesser sin Joe: and not the worst name Ronnie: if thats your way of trying to namedrop the others, dont Joe: why would I Ronnie: i dont know you cant really answer why youd do fuck all Joe: i don't need to ask if you want to know them Ronnie: like their names are gonna tell me who they are Joe: like you care Ronnie: like thats ever stopped you Joe: I can't un-find you Joe: but I'm not going to force you to meet any of them or know any more than what's been said Ronnie: no fixed address remember Ronnie: cant make it much fucking easier for you Joe: no, you can't Ronnie: stop crying then Ronnie: you can do better than a car crash Joe: do better Ronnie: yeah like washing up on the beach Ronnie: keep every cunt guessing how you died Joe: see how many beaches I can end up on Ronnie: dead romantic Joe: you can have fun with the hacksaw anyway Joe: least I could do Ronnie: you dont owe me Joe: i do Ronnie: for what Joe: for finding you when you didn't want finding Ronnie: you got the wrong bastard Ronnie: loads of others would be made up Joe: would they? Joe: regardless, I did it for me Ronnie: fuck off trying to take selfish off me Joe: 😏 Ronnie: been a few days since ive used a phone as a weapon Ronnie: keep on if you want it chucked at you Joe: you've promised better than that Ronnie: course you cant last through the foreplay Joe: alright, romantic Ronnie: you fucking wish soft lad Joe: you wish i wished Ronnie: i fucking dont Joe: alright Ronnie: keep the 🕯🌹 for your girlfriend like Ronnie: fuck all i can do with soft Joe: lighters and poppies suit me better as well Ronnie: next tattoos then Ronnie: dont know if itll look like a poppy but fuck it Ronnie: ill cut it out if you dont like it Joe: even if we avoid the sleeve, still a lot of skin to ruin Joe: are you just going over now Ronnie: waste of a question Ronnie: theres fuck all you can do Joe: what, my scribbles weren't a masterpiece compared to your boyfriends Ronnie: told you get what you pay for mckenna Ronnie: & that i dont get hard for mozart & the like Joe: weren't gonna score a symphony on you but alright Joe: no touching Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: you & your baby habit dont score Joe: just pays Ronnie: dead comforting when i get robbed & left in a kent ditch Joe: it'll be the nicest ditch you've ever been in Ronnie: squatters rights Joe: my bed ain't comfy enough Ronnie: its the fact that its yours making me wanna hang myself with a sheet Ronnie: should say its too soft like you though shouldnt i Ronnie: gutted i fucked that up like Ronnie: we were playing so nice Joe: yeah, goldilocks suits Ronnie: unless your hair has fallen out Joe: I've not pulled it out either Joe: or soph, like Ronnie: not enough like a mane for her Joe: 💔 Joe: if only she'd have known me a few years ago Ronnie: get the family album out shell be made up Joe: shed a tear over our lack of horse Joe: sympathy fuck is better than none yeah Ronnie: the lack of me will really get her going Ronnie: had the pity eye fuck soon as i showed up Joe: she's an empath, babe, why she's so good at art Joe: lack of you might be an issue for me though Ronnie: another word for nosy cunt Joe: undoubtedly Joe: if i could sum up what was wrong with me for her I would Joe: but guess she likes the guessing Ronnie: if she was scouse shed just fucking come out with it Joe: gobshites, yeah Ronnie: what you get for having girlfriends who aint even wool Ronnie: self hatred making you go posh about it Joe: my last actual girlfriend was Ronnie: & youre claiming her Joe: not still writing songs about her Joe: well, never was Ronnie: shell still be 💔 Joe: nah Ronnie: you keep her waiting this long or am i that special Joe: you don't even know how far you've gone from london Joe: you're nearly 2 hours away Ronnie: if youre sticking to the speed limit Ronnie: stop being a pussy Joe: meet me and the car in the next ditch over Ronnie: more hand holding for fucks sake Joe: more than that if you want that lift Joe: have to drag the car out and hotwire it Joe: scrape me off the windshield Ronnie: i told you to stop getting me & what im into Joe: maybe i'm trying really hard Ronnie: far as hurting yourself goes thats the shittest way to have a go Joe: 💔 too weak Ronnie: keep your limp wrists on the steering wheel Ronnie: i wanna get out of here Joe: 😏 Joe: in a bit then Joe: got speeding to do and if you won't shut up Ronnie: youd have to try harder to make me Ronnie: that aint fucking likely Joe: only have to ask Joe: not nice or nothing Ronnie: i dont ask for handouts theyre given to me on account of all those mental problems ive got Joe: wouldn't it be nice to be the one doing the charity work for once Ronnie: if thats the only high youre offering me turn the fuck around Joe: not that daft Ronnie: your ma tell you that Joe: loads Ronnie: her judgements for shit not getting rid of us both with a hanger Joe: agreed Ronnie: dont put a kid in her shed only keep that one too Joe: still raising the last one Ronnie: like thatd stop her Ronnie: no fucking time wasted Joe: she did stop Joe: hence the 9 year gap oopsie baby Ronnie: reckon shed know what causes it by then Joe: Ireland got to her I guess Ronnie: dead keen for my invite now Joe: put it across as a valid form of contraception Joe: chlamydia Joe: they'd go for it Ronnie: worked for me Joe: postergirl Ronnie: 💔 there was no need to sew myself up Ronnie: be more fun than whichever fuck gave me it Joe: god willing Ronnie: your catholic one would be dead willing Joe: you're thinking of the wrong over-zealous christian country Ronnie: not on the right drugs for that kind of bullshit thinking Joe: 🍄 Joe: look out for cowshit whilst you're waiting Ronnie: that determined for me to see the sights yeah Joe: can't waste such an opportunity Ronnie: 🖕 watch me Joe: kent only comes calling so many times, like Joe: your choice Ronnie: shell be taking you every time uni gives you time off Joe: i'm good for it Ronnie: its well cute that you reckon youve got any say Ronnie: possessive type i heard Joe: 😏 Ronnie: she changed the 🔒 on your room yet Joe: keep you in or out? Ronnie: reckon it ended at the pity eye fuck for me & her Joe: 💔 Ronnie: yeah Joe: i'll talk her 'round for you Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: i dont need you to translate for me Ronnie: we got the money your carer role is over Joe: it's all in the eyes, I heard you Joe: not patronizing on your deep relationship Ronnie: shut up Joe: 🤐 Ronnie: & drive faster Joe: 👌 Ronnie: fucking hell i can see why shes fucking obsessed with you Joe: if you want chat Joe: definitely in the wrong place Joe: she don't need to know my ears aren't listening to hers Ronnie: she already knows you do what youre told without talking back Ronnie: like a battered wife Joe: anything for an easy 💀 Ronnie: youre coming to the right place for that Ronnie: but i wont tell her Joe: it's not a reportable crime Ronnie: im not a snitch & i can wear shades if she tries to eye fuck her way to finding fuck all out Joe: dunno if that's enough of a disguise but I don't care Joe: a habit, she could say something about that Joe: but the rest Ronnie: what rest Ronnie: you only want a habit Joe: speak for yourself Ronnie: im echoing you Ronnie: you fucking said it Joe: you know it's not true though Ronnie: youre full of shit yeah Joe: yeah Joe: you too if you wanna pretend about it Ronnie: i dont play pretend im not a fucking kid Joe: good Joe: then you know what's happening here Ronnie: [a picture or video of whatever is happening where she is, lord knows] Joe: you don't have to reciprocate, dickhead Joe: no need to try and make me crash Ronnie: thought youd grown a set of balls & had em drop while ive been here Ronnie: what it sounded like Joe: how olds the other one Joe: he looks younger than me Ronnie: didnt do a survey Joe: I mean your mate, I don't know his name Joe: not Charlie Ronnie: 17 Joe: he must've been a baby when you met, like Ronnie: whats your point Joe: ain't got one Joe: just wondering Ronnie: youre not his type Joe: he's not mine Ronnie: stop wondering then Joe: why? Ronnie: hes fuck all to do with you Ronnie: your mam didnt push him out Joe: not trying to get to know him over you Ronnie: then why do you care Joe: same age as my brother Joe: and the girl my parents took in, one of Joe: that's it Ronnie: here we fucking go Ronnie: you said you werent gonna do that Joe: you kept asking Ronnie: cause i dont want you fucking nonce my brother Ronnie: give a fuck about yours Joe: 'cos you think I would, alright Joe: don't be stupid Ronnie: i dont know what youd do Ronnie: dont fucking know you Joe: well I'm straight and entirely uninterested Ronnie: youre also full of shit Joe: why do you give a fuck Joe: I'm only a year older, if I wanted to, I would Ronnie: why do i give a fuck that you lied to me or about him Ronnie: go ed & wonder about it Joe: it weren't a lie Joe: shit changes Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about them that aint gonna change Joe: fine Ronnie: fuck you Joe: also fine Joe: sorry, alright Joe: it means fuck all Ronnie: its not fine Ronnie: & it means im gonna be running comparisons in my head Joe: just forget about it Joe: of course they're all around my age ish, it don't mean you know any more about them Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: it don't matter Ronnie: cause you get to tell me what matters too yeah Joe: come on Ronnie: you dont or what to fucking do either Joe: then what Joe: I said it, I said sorry Joe: you do what you must Ronnie: go home & give horse girl your sorry Joe: fuck that Joe: you still need to get back to London and I'm nearly there Ronnie: i got here i can leave here Joe: bullshit Ronnie: you wish Joe: well I'm still coming Ronnie: i dont care Ronnie: youve been going on about how big it is Ronnie: stay the fuck away from me Joe: Jesus fucking christ don't be such a pussy Ronnie: you fucking wish Joe: whatever Joe: this is going nowhere right now Joe: you know where to find me when you wanna actually do something about it Ronnie: your half arsed self destruction is going nowhere Ronnie: do something about that your fucking self instead of trying to bait me Joe: I'm still on my way Ronnie: kents full of real pussys you can save Ronnie: youll 💘 it Joe: I don't give a fuck, Ronnie Ronnie: why are you crying Ronnie: you fucked me over Joe: because this is a waste of time Ronnie: youre a junkie now get used to it Joe: at least I've got that Ronnie: youre welcome baby Joe: good luck finding decent shit in kent Ronnie: not going with you dont mean im staying here Joe: but I've got mine already Ronnie: you can have selfish Joe: I told you I was bringing more for you Joe: if you can get over it you can have your share Ronnie: ill take it over it not Ronnie: *or Ronnie: you cant fucking stop me Joe: say you want me to come then Joe: i know where you are, not the other way 'round Ronnie: youre the liar mckenna Ronnie: i dont want you to be anywhere Joe: then why should I come and share Joe: that's a question Ronnie: you love heroics Joe: [show up at this point] Ronnie: [what a fun little reunion that'll be] Joe: [so, we know the vibes but also do we wanna pitch it out] Ronnie: [we totally can for our own amusement/in case a moment or something happens again] Joe: [so obviously he gets there and she's gonna be fuming hens, yeah?] Ronnie: [she gonna fight him lol enjoy that random peeps] Ronnie: [but that works cos like if someone takes that seriously instead of realising we just flirting with each other then they gotta go] Joe: [go away for some alone time to take your drugs somewhere, we voting beach] Ronnie: [yeah because realistically nobody will be there at this o clock unless they are likewise up for shady shit so it works for them as well as being romantic for us because has she been to the beach before probably not] Joe: [so unintentionallly wholesome] Ronnie: [try not to freak out immediately about that this time lads] Joe: [or OD again] Ronnie: [or freeze to death because when are you ever dressed for the weather gal] Joe: [have to stay close purely for warmth whoops] Ronnie: [can't pretend you're angry enough to be at the other end of the beach its not that deep] Joe: [shame it'll be too late to get fish n chips or something beach related but you can skim stones] Ronnie: [I wonder if there's anywhere you could break into because always a mood] Joe: [on a lot of seafronts they have those shelter moments that are boarded up you know what I mean] Ronnie: [yeah that was what I had in mind] Joe: [was that tracy beaker when jess and that girl were snuggled in there and tracy thought it was a lad lollol] Ronnie: [I loved that bit] Joe: [soz i've forgotten your name but that whole character and vibe was a mood, buzzing for the show/movie whatever they're doing] Ronnie: [a child Tess mood 100%] Joe: [fosho fosho, you're gonna have to sleep on this beach/his car 'cos not letting you drive in that state for that long yet tah] Ronnie: [we all know you're gonna be snuggling and I'm here for it, maybe you can get fish and chips in the am/when you wake up] Joe: [for breakfast lol, get all the sugary snacks as well like candy floss doughnuts, casual binge here like neither of you clearly eats much day to day] Ronnie: [healthwise you've both got bigger problems so we can allow it] Joe: [sugar high, living for unintentional wholesomeness lol] Ronnie: [love the childlike vibe always] Joe: [when I go the hunstanton with the gals, which is like, scummy seaside vibes you know, there's always rides there, but also there was like a tattoo hut where you could get actual tattoos for like a fiver and it looks so dubious lol] Ronnie: [omg that is amazing and we must] Joe: [you could get piercings too which might have him do just to mess with it] Ronnie: [we know she already has so likewise not gonna resist getting another, the more extra the better though placement wise cos we do love to shock joseph with our endeavours] Ronnie: [whack a tit out casually or whatever like] Joe: [lmao, dreading these infections hens] Ronnie: [I went to margate and all I got was this lousy tat and a persistent infection, put that on a t-shirt] Joe: [shame they only do flashes gals] Ronnie: [get some DIYing happening lads, we know that kind of thing is flirting for you] Joe: [the tension at this point like you've actually shown loads of restraint even though the opposite seems true lol] Ronnie: [lowkey not what anyone would expect of you which is why I like it] Joe: [mhmm not actually all doom and gloom even if we say and pretend it or what would be the point] Ronnie: [they'd actually be having such a lovely time and when was the last time either of them did, I'm fine about it yep] Joe: [truly, it ain't just about the drugs or any of the 'fucked up ness' from the off and that's the tea no one else be seeing] Ronnie: [mhmm and it wouldn't last how it does if it was] Joe: [connection huns] Ronnie: [the TENSION on this car journey back like don't crash tbh] Joe: [at least you can play really loud music and pretend that's distraction enough] Ronnie: [and play with your new injuries] Ronnie: [lowkey bonding even more about your love of music though we see you] Joe: [mhmm, when it's not all classical obvs 'cos you aren't Rosaline] Ronnie: [probably drop her at Charlie's hun cos otherwise something is gonna happen] Joe: [hope you brought him some rock but i know you did not lol, go make friends again, you go think 'bout your life joseph] Ronnie: [probably stole him a postcard that you've written some bants on to slide under his door] Joe: [that's cute, hilarious over-sexual postcard as they always are] Ronnie: [yeah exactly and then he knows you're back so you can talk or whatever you're gonna do to clear the air] Joe: [that's this era in general we know the vibe]

The Outsiders: Lies (Episode 5)

Published: 11-01-19 - Updated: 11-01-19

Pinky steals Newt's grilled cheese so Newt has ordered Pinky, Brain, Squit, Wakko and Pesto to get him another grilled cheese, which leads to Pinky and Brain get into arguments about lying. Pinky bets Brain that whoever gets caught lying first loses which gets them into some crazy hi-jinks. This is loosely based on the Regular Show episode called ‘The Grilled Cheese’. That's the 5th episode of The Outsiders. Rated PG-13 for strong language.

Part 1: The Worst Beginning

(Squit N/R: It all started with a nice, bright, sunny day as we came to look at some dope-ass videos on YouTube, suddenly Pinky came along.)

(Brain, Wakko, Pesto and Squit are on Wakko's computer laughing, then Pinky comes in with the bag of grilled cheese.)

Pinky: Guys, Oh, there you are. You want the grilled cheese? There's 5 slices for all.

Brain: Whoa! Is that a grilled cheese deluxe from Cheezer's?

Pinky: Yes, it is.

Brain: Then, yes.

Squit: Yeah sure.

Pesto: Sure, why not?

Wakko: Please.

(They eat the sandwiches)

Brain: How did you manage this?

Pinky: I bought it. With money.

Wakko: Nice! Hey, you know what would go good with these sandwiches? More funny internet videos! Check this out. (Begins typing in name on the keyboard)

Pinky: No, wait! I know a really good one. (Types on the keyboard)

Brain: No, Pinky! You're just gonna pull up that ostrich thing with the ballsack again.

Pinky: No, I'm not.

Squit: You're typing it in! I see it!

Pinky: Guys, don't look! You're gonna ruin it!

(The others close their eyes.)

Brain: Fine. It better not be that ostrich thing with its huge ballsack. Ready yet?

Pinky: It's loading. Okay... Now!

(They open them.)

Woman: (In video) Don't get too close now, pa!

(The ostrich hits a baseball off the tee, pecks the old man in the groin, and raises its wings to stroke his big balls. Pinky laughs.)

(The others except for Pinky groan about the video.)

Squit: Oh, for Christ's sake!

Brain: Oh, c'mon, it's that ostrich thing with the huge ballsack! Why do you gotta lie to us?

Pinky: 'Coz lying's my specialty!

(Newt calls on Brain's phone very angry.)

Brain: Oh fuck, it's Newt! Why did he call us?

Pinky: Uhhh...I dunno. (looks suspicious)

Brain: (he answers the phone) Hello.

Newt: (one the phone) Hello! Did you steal my fucking sandwich?!

Brain: What?!

Pinky: (snatches Brain's phone) Don't worry. I'll take care of this with my specialty. (talks to Newt) This isn't your sandwich. This is our sandwich.

Newt: (on the phone) This is your sandwich, huh? Then how come it says "Newt" on the bag?

Brain: Wait, you stole his sandwich this whole time!?

Pinky: (looks at Brain) SHHH! (Turns back to the phone) Well it's supposed to say "Pinky," but they misspelled my name wrong.

Newt: (one the phone) STOP LYING!

Squit: What the hell?

Brain: Pinky, I thought you said you bought this!

Newt: (on the phone) No, he didn't buy it, you fuckwit, I can still hear you! Now get off your lazy asses and go get me another Grilled Cheese Deluxe! (hangs up)

Brain: (looks at Pinky angrily) Argh! Look what you've done!

Wakko: Dude, that's so outta line!

Pinky: Hey, calm your tits! We can still make it.

Pesto: Yeah, don't worry, guys. The line won't be that long. Am I wrong?

(Scene goes to Cheezer's. The line is extremely long.)

Brain: (furious) PESTO!

Pesto: Okay, maybe I was wrong. My bad.

Brain: (looks at Pinky) Well thanks for saving the day once again with your specialty, you asshole!

Pinky: Whatever. Like you could do any better.

Brain: Pfff! I'm a better liar than you are.

Pinky: Oh, really? The only thing you're better than me at is being a big piece of-

(Brain swats Pinky in the head with anger. Meanwhile two astronauts in blue jackets go around the line and enter the restaurant.)

Brain: Hey! What the fuck? Those assholes are fuckin' cutting in! C'mon, now it's gonna take forever!

Squit: (sarcastically) Wow! Just our luck.

Wakko: You can't be serious!

Fat woman: Excuse me! Those fine men are astronauts! They can cut in line. They fought for our country!

Pesto: Who asked you?!

Pinky: (Rises off the ground and gasps) Dude, here's your chance to prove you're a better liar than me. Or maybe you can't? Look at your stupid-ass face. (Touches Brain's face all around) It must really eat you up inside to not be able to prove you're a better liar than me! 'Coz you can prove nothing! Y'hear!? You. Can't. Prove. Anything!

Brain: (Slaps away Pinky's hand and grabs his snout) Fine! You want me to fuckin' prove I'm a better liar than you? Why wouldn't we see who is better in lying? Whoever gets caught first loses!

Pinky: Okay. It's not like you're ever gonna lie better than thi-i-is!

(Brain lets go of Pinky.)

Brain: Ahem, excuse me, Miss.

Fat woman: What?!

Brain: We're astronauts! (They enter the Cheezer's, cutting in line.) Ha! I told you I'm a better liar than you!

Pinky: Woah, woah, woah! Step aside! I'll show ya how a real motherfucka lies. (Approaches a counter) Hey, bade! Give me a Grilled Cheese Deluxe and make it snappy and dope, 'coz we're astronauts and we gotta get back up in space! Know what I'm sayin'?

Cheezer's Cashier: Oh, my! (Speaks using a loudspeaker) One Grilled Cheese Deluxe for the astronauts. (The announcement arouses the real astronauts' curiosity.) That'll be two fifty.

Pinky: Damn! That's a moon quarter! (Points to a quarter)

Cheezer's Cashier: Oh! (Takes the money)

Pinky: Motherfucka! See?

Brain: C'mon, that was lame!

Cheezer's Cashier: Excuse me, sir! Your Grilled Cheese is ready.

Brain: Thanks. We gotta get this back to our astronaut captain. Know what I'm sayin'? Hmm! Hmm!

Cheezer's Cashier: Oh, is that your astronaut captain over there?

Brain: Huh? (Sees Pinky talking with real astronauts) ARGHHHH! (Comes up to them)

Squit: That's not good.

Pinky: This is the guy!

Real Astronaut: (Very indignant) You're the guy?

Brain: I'm...

Pinky: Go on.

Brain: (Unsure) I'm the guy...

Real Astronaut: (Suddenly, a real astronaut turns very excited. He is about to shake Brain's hand.) Well! It's an honor to meet you, captain! Lieutenant Pinks here has told us a lot about you and your whole team.

Real Astronaut 2: Yeah, it's great to meet five real fellow astronauts. State your names.

Pesto: Pesto.

Wakko: Wakko, the middle child.

Squit: Squit, the smartest!

Real Astronaut: So, what are you guys doing in this dump hole, anyways?

Pinky: Ah, you know. We're just pickin' up a Grilled Cheese for our commanding officer.

Real Astronaut 2: Ha-ha! I hear that!

Brain: Ha, yeah! We were just getting ready to take it back to the compound.

Real Astronaut 2: Compound? We were just getting ready to go there ourselves! Wanna lift?

Squit: Uh, sure. We'll take a ride to the compound.

Real Astronaut: Come to think of it, why haven't we seen you around the compound before...?

Pinky: We've just got back from a 10-year stand in the old shuttlecraft. Isn't that right, Captain B?

Brain: Yeah. And we've just transferred here. It's our first day.

Real Astronaut: Well, welcome! We'll be glad to show you around! Now, I hope you're up to spend a 2.5 million dollars of taxpayers' money, 'cause we're drivin'!

(They use a kind of an Apollo-like spaceship as their vehicle and simply cross the street because the compound is located right opposite of the Cheezer's.)

Real Astronaut: Gentlemen, welcome to the compound! ('Compound' echos)

Pesto: Oh, uh, I forgot my ID in my other pants. Can you help me out, guys?

Squit: Oh, what? That was my ID! I told you not to lose it!

Pesto: DAT'S IT! (as he was about to fight with Squit)

Real Astronaut: Guys, guys, calm down! You can use our IDs! (They pass the checkpoint.) Here. You guys might be more comfortable in these. (Passes them jackets)

Pinky: Ah, thanks! Yeah, I love these things, but Captain B might not be that into 'em. Don't you like the uniforms in pink?

Real Astronaut: Pink?!

Brain: I only had to borrow a pair that one time from... (Notices an employee list on the wall and quickly picks up a random name) Dr. Asinoskovich. That one time.

Real Astronaut: Ah, you know Dr. Asinoskovich? That's funny. Because she's right here! (Points at a woman standing with her back towards them)

Dr. Asinoskovich: (Turns around and speaks with a German accent) I don't remember you!

Brain: Really? Uh... It was one time at that conference. You don't remember me?

Dr. Asinoskovich: Uh... I don't remember very much from that conference. I... have to go! (Runs away very quickly)

Real Astronaut: Wow! That was awkward! Ah, come on! We'll give you the grand tour!

Brain: Pinky, you should quit right now. You're totally gonna get caught!

Pinky: Ha. We'll see.

(Wakko gets out a large bell and makes a "bong" noise)

Squit: (confused) What was that?

Wakko: That, my friend, is the sound of doom for us all!

(Squit N/R: And do you think that's gonna go well, wait 'til you see what's gonna happened next. Hopefully.)

Part 2: We're Doomed!

(Lies by Thompson Twins is being played while the astronauts are showing Pinky and Brain around.)

(Squit N/R: Just as soon as we got to the antimatter chamber, those 2 dickheads just can't shut the fuck up with their bullshit already.)

(Brain and Pinky wash their hands in the bathroom.)

Pinky: Man! I don't think you can last much longer of this bullshit! I think you should give it up or you're done, you bender!

Brain: They're not onto me, Pinky.

Pinky: Then I guess it's time that I start lying at one hundred percent! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?!

(They come out of the bathroom.)

Real Astronaut: And what tour would be complete without a stop at the pride of our compound - the antimatter chamber! (Slaps some clerk on his back) How is she running today, Jimmy?

Jimmy: Well, actually, sir... There've been some problems maintaining safe levels of-

Real Astronaut: (Slaps Jimmy again, causing Jimmy to drop his clipboard right onto a green button, pushing it) That's fate. I don't understand a half of that these science types say.

Pinky: Oh, that's too bad. Captain here's an expert on it!

Real Astronaut: You're an expert on antimatter?

Brain: Uh... Yeah... Uh... But not compared to how much this guy knows! (Points to Pinky)

(An alert beeper sound grows stronger.)

Pinky: (Frustrated) Uh...

Brain: Did you know he wrote a book on it?

Pinky: We wrote a book on it!

Brain: Well, you did most of the work on it!

Pinky: But your name's on the cover!

Brain: Yeah, right next yours!

Pinky: Above mine!

Real Astronaut: Jimmy, knock off that beepin'!

Jimmy: Yeah, actually, sir, I'm having trouble with-

Real Astronaut: Trouble? We-ell, these guys are experts! Can you lend a hand, fellas?

Pinky: Sure, we can! Go ahead, captain!

Brain: (Approaches the control panel) Well, according to the book Lieutenant Pinks wrote, you wanna turn that knob there.

(Jimmy follows the orders.)

Pinky: (Cuts in) But captain's own research really outdates mine. So turn that knob over there!

Squit: Uhhh...guys.

Brain: But he's forgetting the recent discoveries he made! Flip those switches!

Squit: Guys.

Pinky: Discoveries based on his studies... Hit those buttons!

Squit: Guys.

Pesto: Oh, It's gonna be so dope! (eats popcorn)

Brain: What the fuck, man!? I never said hit those buttons!

Squit: Guys.

Pinky: Yeah, Jimmy! You're not doing like captain B just fuckin' said! You gotta do it like this! (Bumps over all the buttons)

(The anti-nucleus gets unstable. Pipes burst. Danger light bulbs explode.)

Squit: Oh shit.

Brain: (furious) Pinky, knock it off! You're gonna fuckin' break it!

Pinky: No, you're gonna fuckin' break it!

Squit: GUYS!

Pinky & Brain: WHAT!?

Major Williams: What's all this commotion?

Real Astronaut: Major Williams? Sir! (Dusts off Pinky and Brain) We were just showing these new transfers around the compound, sir!

(A warning siren is heard.)

Jimmy: Captain B! Lieutenant Pinks! The antimatter is becoming unstable!

(Shows the antimatter wobbling in a mass.)

Wakko: (scared) We're fucked!

Pesto: I'm lovin it! (laughs)

Real Astronaut: Captain B, Lieutenant Pinks! You can fix it, right?

Brain: Yes! Lieutenant Pinks can totally fix it!

Pinky: Not without captain's help, I can't!

Squit: (confused) Guys, are we even doing anything?

Pesto: Shut up, Squit! I'm enjoying this!

Real Astronaut: No time for modesty! All of you, get in, NOW!

Pesto: Awww! But I haven't finished my popcorn!

(The astronaut opens the antimatter chamber door and shoves Pinky, Brain, Squit, Wakko and Pesto in there.)

Wakko: We're gonna die.

Brain: Dude, this is all your fault.

Pinky: What?! You're the one who won't fuckin' admit that you suck at lying!

Brain: 'Coz I don't!

(The others watch Pinky and Brain argue through the window.)

Brain: As a matter of fact, I don't know if I should ever talk to you again, let alone give you a ride home either!

Pinky: Look! Why don't you give up and tell 'em what's going on so they can help us?!

Brain: No, you do it!

Pinky: No way!

(The antimatter shakes even more.)

(Pinky and Brain argue some more until Squit loses his temper.)

Squit: (frustrated) Fine! I'll do it, it y'all just shut the hell up! (He gets the microphone)

Real Astronaut: What's the holdup?

Squit: Look. I have to tell you the truth. (Pinky & Brain nods.) I have a condition that makes me forget everything in times of extreme stress. (Pinky & Brain's mouth hangs open in shock.) My own fuckin' team doesn't have that condition. They're just idiots!

Pinky: Awww...what?!

Brain: What the fuck?!

Wakko: Outta line, y'know!

Pesto: Hey!

Squit: We need you tell us what to do!

Real Astronaut: Oh, my... Jimmy, what do we do?

Jimmy: They have to penetrate the anti-nucleus with something solid!

Real Astronaut: Right! Listen up! You have one chance at this thing, Lieutenant Pinks! You have to throw Captain B into the anti-nucleus!

Pinky & Brain: WHAT?!

Real Astronaut: It's the only way! Lieutenant Pinks is too big for you to throw. You must sacrifice yourself to save thousands of lives, captain!

Wakko: (shocked) Wait, for a joke!?

Brain: NO! Don't listen to him, Pinky! DON'T DO IT!

Real Astronaut: Do it! Throw him in! THROW HIM IN!

(Pinky looks around, conflicted.)

Brain: Please! No! No!

Real Astronaut: Throw him now! NOW!

Pesto: I dunno about you but this is getting mad tings! (eats popcorn)

Pinky: (looking apologetic) Oh god, what have I done!?

Brain: I'm sorry! I'm sorry for lying! You win, okay?! I won't lie anymore!

Pinky: I'm really sorry, B! But I can't let everybody die because of our bullshit! (Pinky lifts Brain up over his head and is about to throw him in...)

Brain: (Poor Brain) NO!

(A zip sound is heard.)

Brain: Huh? (Sees that his jacket is unzipped)

Pinky: Jesus. You thought I was gonna throw you in? I told you I'm a better liar than you. (Holds the grilled cheese bag in his hand)

Brain: Newt's grilled cheese!

Pinky: You better hope this works, grilled cheese! (Pinky throws a bag with grilled cheese into the anti-nucleus. The anti-nucleus catches the bag with its energy field ready to disintegrate as the others celebrated) Yes, it's working! It's working, it's working, it's… (Then it catches him...) Nyahh!

Brain: Pinky! (...and Brain, Wakko, Squit and Pesto as well) Ahh!

Wakko: OH GOD, IT HURTS, IT FUCKIN' HUR...! (It twists him up as he screams)

(It twists, rips them up, and puts them back together, then explodes as they scream. It then throws them out, knocking over the chamber door. They both look roasted enough. They groan and cough as they look up at the others.)

Pinky: Yeah. We're not astronauts.

(Cut to their house. The two astronauts hurl Pinky, Brain, Squit, Wakko and Pesto out of a van.)

Real Astronaut: If you ever lie about being astronauts again, YOU'RE DEAD!

Pinky: We saved the fuckin' city, astro-!

(The astronauts throw the Cheezer's bag in Pinky's face and drive away. Pinky and the others walked to Newt's house.)

(Squit N/R: Thank god, this cringe-worthy nightmare is over, it all happened because of Pinky stole Newt's grilled cheese,...(Newt: Then how come it says "Newt" on the bag!?) ...lied about getting in,... (Brain: We're astronauts.) ...and suffering some physical trauma. (Wakko: IT HURTS!) The last thing we wanted to do is to be almost exploded into smithereens.)

Squit: So, I hope you guys learned your lesson about this "bullshit"!

Pinky: Y'know what, you're right! Sorry, Brain!

Brain: Sorry too, Pinky.

Pinky: Give up?

Brain: Give up.

(They shake their hands for forgiveness.)

Pinky: But, I'm not giving up that Pesto's dad's gay! (laughs)

Pesto: (furious) MY DAD'S NOT BENT!

(Newt is on the computer as they enter his room.)

Newt: Where have you been? I've been waiting all day!

Pinky: Sorry about the sandwich.

(Pinky gives Newt his Grilled Cheese Deluxe. It is totally burned.)

Newt: What the hell? Dafuq happened to my sandwich?!

Brain: There were spacemen! At Cheezer's! And the tube... we went down and... everyone wore sweatpants... even us... and then the room with the bad stuff... but... we saved the city with your sandwich!

Newt: (in disbelief) Ugh... Why do you always have to lie to my face?

Pinky: We ran it over by accident.

(Pause)

Newt: See? Was it so hard to tell the truth?

THE END!

Hope you guys enjoyed this fanfic episode of The Outsiders. See ya lata! Thx. Peace!

So I saw in one of your replies you came up with a mob boss au. Would you ever write it and put it on A03 cos I would LOVE to read it. Also please say John's the mobster who's like "if you mess with Roger you'll die" so a rival gang kidnap Roger to blackmail John. But then Roger turns out to be trained in combat and beats the shit out them all and escapes and when John hears he's just like "I fucking warned you not to mess with him!"

okay this is a) a long time coming and b) was born from me watching all of narcos in like...a week

in fact, it legit started with me texting lo “maybe i’ve been watching too much narcos but.....” 

okay so our story begins with the knowledge that roger’s dad ran the mob

like roger is his heir and his son and his dad is the Big Kingpin

john’s dad is a shitty little lackey who has waaaaaaay too many debts so he grew up in the mob?? but lower ranks

and john sorta started getting involved when he was like 10 or so bc no one looks twice at the nicely groomed white kid right? and his dad was Desperate

and like he and roger had this whole Star Crossed Lovers shit bc a) roger was Not Allowed to be Gay and b) they weren’t ever supposed to have even met like completely different pay grades

BUT roger overheard him arguing with his dad over a better way to do a job that would be less dangerous and way harder to track but he got brushed off with a “the boss is always right you don’t argue john it’ll get you killed”

but rog was like.... shit no that’s WAY better

and ended up dropping a few lines to find out who this kid is cause... he’s smart and smart goes far right

like u gotta look Out for the smart ones, he knows that, his dad taught him that

(with backhands and cruel fists while teaching him chess, that one night in the barrel when he fucked up a simple plan when he was 13...)

(like rog is smart he’s just not Great at compartmentalization. so his plans start out great but go off the railed as he gets excited/pissed off) but like johns smart he picks up when he’s suddenly being tailed and is like Ok What Did I Do to one of them

and the guy panics and takes him straight to roger who is like..... how did u fuck up a simple tail, Jesus Christ

but yeah like he and john end up having a sort of clandestine friendship of sorts? in which roger essentially brings half baked plans to him and john Fixes them

which sorta turns into mutual pining

john is like this is my angry mob boss son best friend and roger’s like this is my evil genius best friend who kills people

but yeah basically roger’s dad keeps beating him when things go wrong, even if its not his fault

John is observant okay he was noticing the direct correlation between roger “getting jumped” and plans going wrong

So when it’s one of his??? That goes tits up (and tbh it wasn’t even like a bad screw up they just had a witness who was taken care of the next day) and roger like slinks into Johns apartment/office with the break down for John and his eyes is swollen completely close and he’s got a fat lip the size of a strawberry John immediately is ready for murder

And roger never admits it’s his dad???? who’s beating him???

because Taylors Should Be Better

Because why would he? It’s embarrassing but also it’s happened his whole life it’s expected of a mob bosses son (think the Baba Yaga scene in John wick 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻)

which then turns into john pounding him into the mattress and promising no one will Ever land a hand on him again when he turns up one time with a battered to hell face because something went Wrong on one of the plans (which. extra emotional effect bc it was one of johns)

and like a month later roger’s dad is mysteriously found shot dead

cuz John mentally is like okay. Plan Ides of March is a go. Moving it up three years he’s getting taken out tomorrow

And John KILLS ROGER’S DAD IN COLD FUCKING BLOOD

the only??? person??? roger would EVER take that from is his dad

like johns heard the stories about roger taking out men twice his size yeah? but roger never has any defensive wounds on his hand

John knows that roger can and will defend himself

He’s seen him in action

But he never raises a hand against his dad when he straight up could kill him with one hand tied behind his back

so john figures it out and a month later roger’s dad is dead 

and now they need a leader?? another boss

and they look to roger, but roger is like no

he knows himself well enough, he is not strong enough in terms of planning and plotting, he’s a good action man but not strategist

that’s john

so roger steps aside and is like john is going to run the show

obvi there’s a power void and there’s basically civil war but with roger’s ruthlessness and john’s genius they fucking take all the little fractions down and they take them down HARD

john sits on his throne with roger standing over his shoulder, knuckles bloodied and grin wicked

and everyone knows if you fuck with roger??? you fuck with john

and vice versa

once, roger got shot on a mission and it was like, the one time?? john loans him out for a plan that wasn’t his

and he’s fine it’s just a graze but John and him in their bathroom and Johns like hyper focused on cleaning the wound and he furious and harsh and is like you fucking dumbass did no one teach you to duck?? You fool you dumb piece of shit

and roger just gently cradles john’s face in his hands and lifts his head to look at him and kisses him so gently and he’s like it’s okay, i’m fine, i’m here

and john’s like you are never going on any raid or plan or anything that i have not PERSONALLY vetted 

the next day, the guy who’s plan it was is sniveling and apologizing on his knees in front of John and Roger; it was an accident, he says

and johns like “it’s okay. i understand, these things happen.”

and then just blank eyed shoots him in the femur

“these things just happen, you understand?”

roger just smiles from behind him, doesn’t even flinch in the aftermath

john and roger rule with an iron fist until one day things go tits up

and roger ends up taking the fall for john, and he gets sent to jail

john, in retaliation, goes on the warpath

Because he’s totally turned around the family business they’ve gone more corporate and it’s more like s legit business now?? They still kill people and rob and shit but they’re not monsters or criminals

And they give money back into the neighborhood and shit and donate to charity and kiss babies blah blah blah

But the authorities are like we need to show our strength against these villains so Rogers looking at like 25years to life

And John just kinda is like okay cool I can fix this

And it’s the biggest campaign ever he’s got the best lawyers on retainer he’s blackmailing people left and right he’s buying witnesses and finding loopholes like he’s fucking working the system and he’s gonna get roger out even if it kills him because in his eyes it was His Fault

Roger is like your honor clearly there’s been some sort of mistake

Because the only thing that places him there is a grainy cell phone video and a witness that’s not exactly clean

So like the case isn’t solid

But it’s enough for a trial like most of it is circumstantial

And John is like I would kill the whole world for you and Rogers like sounds excessive but same

the difference between roger and john is that john would kill the whole world for roger after sitting down and planning the whole thing for several weeks. roger would kill the whole world for john and not remember doing it after (though still probably not regret it)

Roger would act first think later

And John would be like oh I planned it all out two years ago in the shower

Just in case

so roger gets sent to jail and john just...looses it

like he has to get yanked off of miami when the verdict is read of two years sentencing because its not technically miami’s fault??? its just shitty

and meanwhile, roger is getting dragged off to jail and he’s like don’t worry, babe, it’s gonna be fine

(it both is and isn’t)

roger shows up in jail and within a week he’s running the joint, he’s got lackeys and he’s paid off the guards and its basically a vacation

meanwhile john is just burning his competition to the ground, he’s making people rue the day they ever crossed him

(they TOTALLY get conjugal visits that last longer than uhhhh usual)

bc you betcha ass they’d be So fucking possessive of one another. like roger rules that prison with an iron fist 

anyways, miami appeals on the basis of circumstantial, and he basically proves that legit ANYONE else could have done it and this is clearly railroading and obviously roger is innocent

and after 8 months, he walks

when he gets out???? john is there to pick him up

they drive off to a safe house outside of the city and they had wicked crazy dangerous hot sex and its just insanity

and when they come back??? 

its like people know to just flee when they see them

john, mob boss and kingpin, and roger his dangerous and beautiful second in command 

also freddie is roger’s bff, miami is their lawyer, and crystal is roger’s bodyguard who always gets into more trouble than roger but he once took a bullet for roger so he’s chill

ps anyone tries to kidnap roger??? gets dealt with a) by roger and if roger manages to let them get away then b) john. you’d rather be dealt with by roger, and not john

don't play the fool now (multi) - chapter 3 - lily2

[ summary ] : aquaria is having a ball of a time with her new mission though sharon can’t help but be worried for her daughter and shea has definitely bitten off more than she can chew.

[ authors note ] : I’m not dead! just busy, I’m not trying to neglect this au, I hope y'all enjoy, can you tell I’m struggling to write characters that aren’t sasha / katya / adore ?

— ✧*。

Sharon nervously sat in her chair, attempting to play it off by staring at her phone though she quickly put it down and turned, sipping her drink in the seclusion of her office, the anxiety in her face must’ve clearly been showing as Alaska snickered, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Jesus, I can smell your worry from about a million miles away, she will be absolutely fine.”

“You think so?”

Of course Sharon trusts Aquaria with everything in her, that was her own teammate and more importantly her daughter. Sure, there wasn’t any official paperwork truly stamped and saying in bold print that they were related or that she was adopted but never did she feel so strongly about someone in a motherly sense, Aquaria came when she was ten and when Sharon was twenty two, a hopeless and homeless child who was tossed place to place constantly until her parent’s rotted in jail and she had nowhere to be but the streets.

Sharon couldn’t get all the credit for finding and raising Aquaria, it was really Alaska who first found her, passed out and extremely cold in the dead hit of winter and took it upon herself to take the risk and bring her back to the underground, Bianca was of course furious but now she kicked herself for it: Aquaria was loyal, she was beautiful, she was intelligent and didn’t once speak of her old life, thankful for what she was and where she was brought into.

“Of course, she’s your daughter, with quotes around the word.” Alaska smiled brightly and stole a sip of her alcoholic drink, “Jesus that’s something.” She coughed out the words before clearing her throat, “Besides, she’s been asking Bianca for a mission for who even knows how long, she’s trustworthy and just as good as her mother I’m assuming.”

The flirtatious nature of her tone didn’t sit too well in the moment with Sharon who was just stressed, wanting to hear from her atleast a text but she knew she could ruin the entire mission if she did, her nerves would have to spike down for the moment and luckily the best distraction was Alaska since Bianca was also gone but more to see Katya, that wasn’t a major concern.

It had been three hours, Alaska counted for Sharon she had waited in her office, staring at the clock and occasionally laughing at some weird joke or story the blonde had beside her to tell, to get her a bit out of the mood and herself again.

Curling a piece of hair around her fingers Alaska gave a kiss to Sharon’s head, “Relax.” She whispered, she repeated it as she gently grabbed her shoulders and crouched a bit to be at eye level with her, “I know, I know, it’s an assignment and I should know she’s trustworthy and trained well, I know.”

Sharon had been with Bianca from the beginning of it all, they met at fifteen, Bianca raised well into the underground markets of hitmen, mafia, druga, violence, all that— it didn’t take long for her to absorb all of it and own it, all under her fingertips and so oddly at peace and calm with it, almost as if it was boring and the expected. When a dazed Sharon begging for something to do, definitely having a few kills under her belt even with her age, a job, Bianca quickly jumped on it and here she was: thirty two and still changed her hair color every three or four months.

And then there was Alaska who joined right after Sharon, at nineteen she had just come from escaping the cops and her own problems, hearing about the underground from Jinkx who knew her since they were kids. She was definitely Sharon’s favorite and anyone could sense it from a mile away, their relationship however was a bit complicated. Not complicated but maybe strained— Alaska didn’t want commitment or a relationship in a business where she could be killed or targeted at any moment and Sharon could only nod and let whatever happened, happen.

Multiple times of kissing, sharing a bed, sleeping together, everything possible had happened to them already. Alaska didn’t ever mind the affection or them being obvious in front of the rest of the teammates, it was really just when Sharon tried to make things permanent that Alaska had a problem, never wanted to go on a date, no cutesy romantic gestures allowed.

Alaska didn’t want commitment.

It wasn’t them playing around either, the jealously that boiled through Alaska’s veins whenever Sharon spoke about men or women flirting with her on various missions was enough of a satisfaction to her, seeing the blonde so winded and so aggravated.

Bianca, Sharon, Alaska, Jinkx and Bob were the original five who had met, become engulfed in the business and really built the team up but it was Bianca (who always had the final say regardless), Sharon, Bob and Raja who had the power and leadership tendencies with their own circles and ranks though it always all boiled back to the throne, as Alaska called it, which was Bianca unsuprisingly to everyone.

A sudden burst of the door had Sharon completely jump from her seat and dust off her dress, looking at Alaska who looked around and shrugged, unaware of who it was though Aquaria or Violet seemed like the most viable options.

“Mom!”

Sharon heard it in a voice so clear that she ran out her office, Alaska shaking her head. “Aquaria!” She yelled out her door before the two made eye contact and quickly collapsed at the couch into eachother, “Fuck kid, you can’t just not text me.” She kissed her head and smiled, gasping once she looked at her face and noticed the dried blood from her nose and the skin open on her neck in three slashes, “I’m fine, I’m fine, really!”

The panic running through Sharon was enough for Alaska to widen her eyes looking at how deep the cuts actually ran and went to go out the door, “I’m getting some stuff, hang on.”

Aquaria sniffled and groaned as Sharon was quick to take a tissue and brush the dried blood off, “I’m fine, really!” She insisted, her rose gold sequin dress was stained with blood at the sides but she ignored that, usual part of the job, focusing more on her face and looking at her neck, “No you’re not, what happened?” She spoke as she bit her tongue, they looked awful and battered.

“Well we killed him, Violet took the shot because he punched me after I tried to hold him down, I should’ve thought through the fact he was about five inches taller than me and definitely twice my size.” She laughed though Sharon didn’t find it too amusing so she continued with a small grin, “Basically we brawled and fingernails got involved but—” she showed her hand that had perfectly sharp and studded long stiletto nails, “I think we know who won that.”

She had to grin a bit at Aquaria’s clean and primed nails, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She muttered to Sharon who worriedly hugged her and sighed into her shoulder, pulling back and nodding, she was okay just bruised up but they got the target, Aquaria held up a wallet and smirked wildly, Sharon laughed and clapped, “So even is he, Bianca didn’t tell me too much.”

“So originally we needed to find his daughter, more for finding out who this original person was, Bianca said he was Alaska’s old laywer who betrayed her and all that jazz but instead, we found something else, his daughter was far too busy with poker to notice that his own assistant was there.”

Now I’m starting to see why Bianca didn’t want to tell me too much.

“So we flirted around, got drinks, acted normal, all of that preliminary shit.” Aquaria ran a hand through her straight hair, “Long story short we got to a private area, reserved for special members, killed him, grabbed his wallet and ran.”

“So this isn’t the father? Just his assistant?” The disappointment in Sharon’s voice quick to make Aquaria stand and pull out some of the cards in the wallet, “Yes but guess what? He has a copy of every ID and identification of the father since he was his personal assistant.”

Slowly she puzzled it together, “Because of security measures, they’d never let him carry it since he is so desired and wanted and easy to rob let’s face it, the man is beyond his years, but the assistant would be a smart choice since no one really gives a shit, no one would show up at his house thinking he had any good information or valuables of the guy but he does, all in his leather wallet.”

She threw it on the table, it was slightly perfectly clean and Sharon couldn’t help but groan, smiling and hugging her daughter, “I’m such a proud mother.” Aquaria’s eyes glimmered with nothing but pride, “I’m so glad, it was fun and sometimes a bit tense but, I’m glad.”

The door opened again and they both sat, Aquaria laying down and putting her head in Sharon’s lap, beyond tired. Alaska nodded once more, “I’m back and with the best medic!” She winked before Peppermint presented herself and carried her in her two boxes, all full of supplies.

“Sorry to intrude so late.”

Peppermint was far too soft for her own good, it was almost suprising she was still here though she was definitely the best medic they had, she had a damn bachelor’s of science in biology until she decided to drop out, school and especially nursing school far too much to handle. Her real name was Agnes but no one really used it, Peppermint was her nickname and it stuck with everyone for years. The lingering risk of hospitals and having to expose identities was why they all were so thankful for the medics they had with them.

“Oh c'mon, you’re acting like your job isn’t important.” Aquaria sweetly replied, “I know it is, I hear it everyday.” Peppermint gently moving Aquaria around and crouching so she should look around at her nose, “Okay, are you currently having any difficulty breathing?”

“I did when being driven back home but once I cleaned out all the blood that was dried I’m breathing easier, it’s just a bit more difficult.” Peppermint nodded and glanced from back before coming in close again, “Well, it’s not good if you’re not breathing easy and I can tell from a mile away your nose is crooked, you broke your nose is what I’m trying to say.”

As expected, Aquaria didn’t find it much of a surprise though Sharon almost wanted to collapse to which Alaska sat right next to her and latched onto her arms, “It’s fine, she’s fine.” She muttered close to her ear before nodding at Sharon’s uneasy glance.

“As for these around your neck, these are awful, I say we do these as soon as possible because they look open and god forbid you get an infection, do you mind doing it now or would you rather wait in the morning? You’ll sleep through it or pass out either way with the medicine.”

Aquaria looked at Sharon who only shrugged and left it up to her, “Yeah, let’s do it now.” No hesitation in her voice from the reply as Peppermint smiled and helped her up, taking her by her arm and making sure she didn’t touch anything and told Aquaria to lift her head a bit. “I’ll take her back when she’s finished, don’t worry about her, she’s in good hands!” The door closed and Sharon was left with Alaska, she completely had all faith in their medics but nothing could really make her worry less about Aquaria, it was the “motherly instincts” as Bianca would tell her when she was far too paralyzed about Aquaria being hurt or bruised up.

“She’s an adult, she knows what she’s doing, don’t worry.” Pressing a kiss to her head before shaking her hair, grabbing Sharon’s hand, “It’s late, let’s sleep please.”

For once she didn’t refuse and nodded, getting up knowing it be better to just rest and wake up with a more clear mind in the morning, Aquaria would be fine, she would be fine and getting all the stitches done meant she wouldn’t have to worry about infection or other underlying problems.

She will be okay.

*.✧

“Pep, I met the most gorgeous girl yesterday during the mission.” Shea whispered, hitting her close friends shoulder, Peppermint rolling her eyes, “You’re playing with fire if you’re trying to win a girl over especially one you met while on a damn mission.”

Completely lovestruck Shea flushed, laughing and feeling all her nerves come out. “Well about that…” She begun as Peppermint crossed her arms, extremely curious to where this conversation was going as they sat and ate, the food from the small Chinese market across the block, there was absolutely nothing Peppermint loved more than Asian food and if ten dollars meant twenty five dumplings then she and Shea were sold.

She plopped one of the dumplings into the soy sauce before waving a hand, wanting Shea to continue, she covered her mouth to speak, “And?” She said on the edge of what exactly Shea wanted to say.

“You know Katya right?”

Peppermint glared, “I would hope so after being here for five fucking years!” She yelled laughing as her friend shook her head, trying not to laugh at how stupid the question was once she said it a dumpling in her mouth, she swallowed before continuing, tapping the marble table that they sat in, biting her lip, knowing she couldn’t possibly lie or get out of this.

“It’s her sister.”

The second the three words left her lips Peppermint gasped and almost dropped her entire bowl of dumplings, quickly catching herself and slamming her plate on the table before looking around, knowing no one would be up at seven anyway, they all slept in until noon unless Bianca called for it.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” She whispered as she stared at Shea square in the face, “I need to know everything and anything!” She yelped, clapping her hands before pointing, “But don’t get it twisted, I don’t support this, you’re putting yourself in real danger here messing around with her sister who Bianca said is now a detective.”

Even Shea’s face bleached white at that point, “She— she’s a what?” Her face and tone unclear and confused, Sasha hadn’t brought it up at all though in retrospect why would she? In a casino, late at night, that seems a bit too much to give away. “She’s a detective Shea, Bianca told me when I was getting Aquaria stitched up.”

Suddenly everything became more clear to Shea: why she hesitated to speak more about Katya, keeping the questions closed on her job, why she seemed so anxious someone had spoken to her, why they exchanged numbers— Sasha was a detective and of course blissfully unaware of what Shea was doing as a job, seeing her as a normal human which was refreshing to say the least but this was a bad combination already.

“But she’s so gorgeous and intelligent and she just oozes personality and wit.” She whined to Peppermint who could only sit and laugh at her misfortunate encounter gone right and also wrong.

“Well, I’m not going to snitch, that’s not my job.” She paused to laugh before clearing her throat and extending a hand to Shea who grabbed it and frowned, “But I’m going to say this, she might be Katya’s sister but that doesn’t mean we can be soft and nice to her, she’s still a detective and from what Bianca told me, Katya understands that we’d do what we have to if circumstances rise and she tries to play us out and locate what we do.”

God, you are playing with me too hard right about now.

“I understand.” She swallowed her words hard, knowing that dammit there was something there! Shea hated to sound like a romance novel and blinded by her emotions but Sasha was different and interested in her just as Shea was interested back.

“Good morning!” Yelled Vanessa who quickly stole a dumpling from Shea’s plate, as expected. “These are fucking great, I should start waking up earlier to actually go on food adventures with you guys.” Peppermint smiled sweetly, “It’s the perks of insomnia that comes with the job.”

The Pureto Rican cackled, “Okay but seriously, this is from Bianca.” She tossed the black file to Shea as Peppermint leaned back into her chair, offering her more food which she graciously accepeted, going at it immediately.

“I’m gonna go.” Shea stood up and grabbed her bag and phone, leaving the file after she skimmed through it and landed on what she needed to do, immediately getting up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She replied quickly to a confused Vanessa and Peppermint who glanced with furrowed brows, not even getting a word in before Shea shut the door and was running down the building.

She knew she wouldn’t but Peppermint grabbed the file anyway and opened it, beyond bewildered by Shea’s response, staring at Vanessa out of curiosity who only shrugged with innocent hands, “Hey now, I only delivered this, I didn’t take one peak.”

Putting the file down she sighed, shaking her head, completely unsurprised at what the file entailed for Shea.

“She has a lot of trouble on her hands.”

In Another Life Series: Chapter 9 - The Witch

…in which Y/N and Harry both had to choose.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, assistant!y/n, witch!y/n.

Chapter 8 - The Curse: Y/N discovered the truth, and Harry was just late.

(I think I was drunk and sad when I wrote most of this chapter, and I haven’t edited for the last time so please ignore any mistake while you’re reading)

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“Harry! Where’s Harry?! Where is he?!”

“Y/N, calm down!” Jeff caught the frantic girl right before she could burst into the emergency room, holding her tightly so that she couldn’t break away from his arms no matter how hard she struggled to.

“I need to see him!”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay…Y/N, look at me…It’s okay, the doctor said he’d be fine.”

Y/N kept shaking her head, ignoring whatever the man was trying to tell her because she knew it wasn’t true. Nothing was okay. And she was the reason why everything had gone wrong.

“This is all my fault…Oh God…I did this to him.”

Jeff and the other people from Harry’s team exchanged looks for they had no idea why the assistant was reacting this way. She couldn’t explain it to them, they wouldn’t understand!

“How’s it your fault sweetie?” Sarah asked, reaching out to hold Y/N’s trembling shoulders in order to calm her down. “It’s nobody’s fault. His blood pressure suddenly dropped so he fainted, but he’d be fine.”

“What else did the doctor say?”

Mitch swallowed hard before he spoke, “the doctor…wasn’t sure, she assumed it had something to do with heart problems.” No, no, no, no. “So they’re gonna need to run some tests when Harry wakes up.”

“Harry’s never had heart problems before,” Y/N mumbled, probably for only herself to hear, because she knew this couldn’t be a coincidence. It was the bloody curse that she casted upon him, upon them both! Jason was right. As soon as they’d admitted how they felt about each other, something bad happened. It put Harry in danger. She put Harry in danger. She could never forgive herself for this.

“When can I see him?” Y/N sniffed, taking in a deep breath so as to stay calm because freaking out wouldn’t solve any problems, only make things worse.

“Not now, he’s still unconscious. The doctors and nurses would take care of him, don’t you worry,” Jeff reassured her with a comforting smile; however, she knew he was just as frightened as she was, it was his job to keep his composure when everyone else couldn’t.

An unexpected incoming call got Jeff’s attention immediately. He intended to ignore it, but his phone kept on ringing thus he had to take a look to see who it was. Judging by his wide-eyed reaction to the caller ID, Y/N could tell more trouble was coming their way, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for more.

“I need to take this,” Jeff announced before making an exit and telling the rest to notify him if there was any update on Harry’s condition.

Once he’s left, the others started putting out their own theories on Harry’s sickness while discussing the possibility of cancelling his next few tour concerts. Y/N didn’t participate as she had her eyes fixed on Harry’s manager, who was pacing back and forth behind those glass doors leading into this hallway. The glass was soundproof, yet she could tell he was raising his voice at whoever was talking to him on the phone.

This shouldn’t be good…

“Fuck!” Was the first word that escaped that man’s mouth the moment he returned.

“What’s wrong?” Asked Sarah.

As much as Y/N wanted the answer to be ‘nothing’, she knew from the bottom of her heart it was impossible.

“Lillie Xander’s team had a talk with the press.” He inhaled deeply and that pause had everyone else stop breathing all at once. “She’s…pregnant.”

“You’re joking.” Mitch exhaled an agitated laugh in order to lighten up the mood, but the response he got was utter silence. 

Jeff stormed away, holding his head in frustration, leaving the rest of the team in shock, so Y/N hurriedly chased after him for she was probably the only one who didn’t believe a tiny bit of Lillie’s big announcement.

“She can’t be pregnant! She’s lying!” The assistant cried out as she picked up her pace to catch up with the manager.

“Not possible, but let’s hope you’re right. God fuck!”

Y/N grabbed the man by the sleeve to stop him from expanding the distance between them, and he paused to face her. He was furious, she knew, but behind that anger, just like Y/N, he feared for whatever this would mean for his friend/client.

“She’s lied about many things before, Jeff. You can’t believe something her team said.”

“Look kid, you don’t know Lillie as well as we do, alright?” Jeff gritted his teeth as he spoke in a distraught manner. “That woman might be a pathological liar but she’s also smart, there’s no way in hell she’s lying about having a baby which could be easily exposed.” Then followed a short pause, the look on his face altered and she hoped this man had discovered something in his own previous explanation. “Unless…”

Y/N knew where he was going with this, so she finished the sentence for him, eyes widened. “Unless the baby’s not his…”

“We’ll do a test to find out, what’s it called? The one to identify the father before the child’s born.” Jeff clicked his fingers anxiously, trying to remember the term but Y/N did it first.

“A prenatal paternity test,” she filled in the gap in his mind quickly. Having a geeky friend like Jason did help after all, he’d told her all kinds of weird facts that she’d never asked for, and she was actually surprised how she still remembered most of them, including this. 

“Great! We’ll do that!”

Jeff’s joy didn’t last for too long because Y/N had to put out his hope as soon as it sparked. “It’s not safe, I’ve heard that many doctors are unwilling to carry out this kind of test since its results are unpredictable, and we’ll also need the mother’s consent. She won’t go through with that.”

“Then we’ll wait until the baby’s born.” Jeff nodded once, setting two hands on his hips, eyes switching back and forth from the ceiling and the floor. Y/N was just as distressed, she was pinching her arm so hard it might bleed and she wouldn’t even notice.

“Harry’s career will have been ruined by then…” she whispered, but loud enough for both of them to hear. 

Up till now there was no surprise that she was the root of all these bad-lucks coming towards the man she loved. If she kept staying by his side, who knew what else could happen? She needed to leave, even though it’d be the last thing she wanted considering he was still unconscious in the ER. But how much more damage would it need to take for her to snap out of it and let him go? She’d ruined his life, lifetime after lifetime, since she casted that curse. She couldn’t do this anymore. If anyone was going to suffer in this life, it should be her and her only.

“You stay here in case H wakes up. I’m gonna try contact Lillie, alright?”

“Wait, Jeff.” Before he left she stopped him again. “I need to tell you something…”

“Well, is it important?” He scoffed, receiving a nod in response.

“I…” she began, not knowing whether she should continue or not. Time was running out, she had to make a choice. 

What was it gonna be?

“I quit.”

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Growing up at the French Court, princess Emilié had lived her entire life in gold and pearls. She was loved by her father and mother, and she had plenty of servants. Even in the games she played in the yard with the other noble children, they were forced to let her win. 

Emilié had never faced defeat, until the day her father decided to send her to England for an arranged marriage, to the man whom she did not know. It was the first time in her life she couldn’t have it her way, and no matter what she said or did, even if she’d starved herself for days, she still wasn’t given another choice. So she ended up following her father’s order and travelled to the English Court to see the man she was supposed to love. She was miserable. 

She arrived in England just in time the whole Palace received the news the Prince had gone missing; and a part of her was hoping he wouldn’t return, then she could go home to her family and have her old life back. 

Unfortunately, he did return. And therefore, Emilié blamed Edward for all of her misery; she deeply hated him though she didn’t know him at all. But the big problem lied in the fact that she didn’t know the Prince then. She could’ve just made up a whole fake personality for him inside her head. She could’ve made him an evil man who loved nothing but the Throne and himself. She could’ve done that, and she wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. Maybe he should’ve just let that happen and they would’ve both been free. But Edward did the opposite. He allowed her to get to know the real him.

For the first time since she got to England, Emilié had got someone to talk to, other than her two boring maids. Edward was smart, really smart, and kind as well. He knew a lot about everything, poetry, philosophy, history, music,…all the things she loved. He was a match made for her, well, at least she thought he was. So she completely abolished the idea of running from the marriage, because she loved this man, and she wanted to be his Queen, to sit by his side and devote her entire life to him.

Had it been that easy, things wouldn’t have ended the way it did.

“You!” Emilié called for the Prince guard as he walked by, and the man immediately bowed before the Princess. “Come. Do me a favor.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Bring this to Ann,” she said, handing him a folded piece of paper. “Tell her it’s from His Highness.”

The guard looked at Emilié in hesitation as he gathered all his courage to eventually tell her, “I’m very sorry, Your Highness. I could only do it if was His Highness himself who asked me to.”

“Pardon?” Emilié widened her eyes and breathed out a laugh. “Are you talking back now?”

“No, Your Highness, I—“

“Well, His Highness specifically requested this note to be delivered to Ann. How dare you refuse to follow his order, just because his future Queen was asking you on his behalf? Do you still want to keep your stupid head on this useless body of yours?”

“I do…Your Highness.”

“Then give this to Ann immediately,” she firmly demanded, and the servant received the letter from her hand without any hesitation this time.

“Good.” She gave him a nod. “Now go.”

The man paid his respect to the Princess then hurried on his way without knowing, just like Emilié, he was just a tool for the Queen’s malicious plan. And poor Ann would be the one who had to face the consequences.

Emilié knew that note would end a person’s life, yet she still believed it was what needed to be done. There could’ve been an easy way out had Ann never shown up and made it difficult.

Emilié believed she’d sacrificed her youth for her nation by this marriage, so she deserved a happy ending with the man she loved, as the Queen of England. She wouldn’t let a girl with no name steal that away from her, she could not allow it. The rose had finally shown its thorns, this time she wouldn’t accept defeat so easily.

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There was one thing everyone knew about Lillie Xander, besides the fact that she’d got everything handed to her so easily since the day she ran into her Prince Charming - Harry Styles: Lillie Xander never got sad. 

Sure she could be irritated by mostly anything, but sad? She couldn’t even recall the last time she’d really cried. But it was now 2AM, and Lillie was alone in her hotel room, sitting on the bathroom floor, bawling her heart out, because she was witnessing her life falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a knock on the door, she assumed it was room service so she screamed at them to leave. However, it wasn’t, it was an unexpected guest, the last person she’d want to meet at a time like this. 

The knocking got louder and more persistent so Lillie was left with no choice but to wipe off her tears and head out to see who it was.

“Jake?” Her heart almost stopped the moment she found her love affair outside her room. “How…How did you find me?”

“I contacted your assistant.”

“Goddamn it!” Lillie cursed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she exhaled a heavy breath. “Well, after this she’s not my assistant anymore, that little bitch.”

Jake rolled his eyes yet he ignored the girl’s attitude to go straight to the point, “can I come in? We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t need to talk.” She pressed one hand to his chest to keep him from barging into her room. “We are over, Jake. Go home.”

“We need to talk about that bab—“

Before the man could finish that sentence, Lillie covered his mouth as she grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside, slamming the door shut behind them. He laughed in amusement when she let him go, but she found no humor in this situation.

“So it’s true?” Jake snorted. “It’s mine?”

Lillie’s silence was the answer he’d expected to hear.

“No. Fucking. Way. Why didn’t you tell me first? It’s all over the news now!”

Right. She’d asked her team to spread that news because it was the only way for Harry to know about it.

“This baby,” the word was forced out of her mouth, just the sound of it caused her extreme discomfort, “is not yours, it’s Harry’s.”

“Bullshit. We both know it’s the result of that time we—“

“I remember, you asshole!” Lillie raised her voice and caught her ex-lover off guard. “But you are not fit to be a father! You are an unemployed loser who can’t even take care of himself let alone me and a human baby!”

Jake wasn’t new to Lillie’s insults but it’d be a lie to say he wasn’t surprised. He’d always known the kind of person she was, but to know she would stoop this low was a brand new discovery to him.

“He won’t believe your bullshit and will definitely ask for a DNA test, and then what, Lillie? You’ll be exposed and it’s the official end to your career!”

“Oh he’ll believe me.” She scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “He always will.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s a good person, you asshole! I love him!”

“Love him?! You cheated on him, Lil! With me!” Jake reached for her hands but Lillie shrugged him away just as fast.

“You and I were a mistake.” She swallowed, pursing her lips. Harry and her were going through a tough time and she found comfort in Jake, which was wrong and Lillie knew that now. So she would take this baby as an opportunity to turn things around. 

“And don’t even think about meeting him to tell him the baby’s yours.” A smirk appeared on her face as she calmly spoke, “it’s your words against mine. I can just fake the evidence about our relationship to make you look like an insane stalker, then tell the whole world you’re just another one of my obsessive fans. After all, I’ve been publicly harassed before so people would definitely believe me.”

“You crazy bitch!”

“Yes, I am. So what? Now get out before I call my body guard.” The singer demanded, pointing a finger to the door; and Jake couldn’t do anything else but to exit the room in silence. 

Once he was gone, Lillie dropped down on the couch nearby, face in her knees. She might’ve gotten rid of this burden, yet only temporarily as she knew he would come back for the baby, his baby. She’d better get to Harry first before any more damage was done.

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It was already past midnight, and Ann was still patiently waiting for her prince in his father’s library. When she read his note, she felt it was a bit strange that he wanted to meet at a place like this, it was so unlike him, but she reckoned it was pretty smart since no one would suspect them to be here at this hour. 

She came here with a light heart, unguarded, unaware. She’d been told by almost everyone she knew to never put her hopes up so high, yet she believed in Edward, and she believed him when he said he loved her. She’d turned into a hopeless romantic and there was no turning back now. If tonight he told her to run away with him, her answer would be yes for sure. He could never choose both her and his Throne, so she would either leave this room tonight with him or without him, and judging by his affection and determination to be with her shown in the note, she was leaning towards a happy ending for them, together. 

While waiting, the girl sat by the fireplace, watching the dancing amber putting on a show. There was something unusual this time, the flames were moving in a frantic way, as if trying to tell her something. She straightened her back, eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in closer, slowly being hypnotized. But she immediately snapped out of it when the door opened without warning.

It wasn’t Edward. 

“Your Majesty!” 

Ann bent her knees and lowered her head to bow before the King. She wondered why he was here, and started praying Edward hadn’t already been caught sneaking out to see her. 

With her head hung low, the young girl couldn’t see the man’s face; she could, however, sense his terrifying smirk as the sound of his heavy footsteps were coming closer.

The man pressed his fore and middle finger beneath her chin to lift her face up so they were eye to eye. This was actually the first time she’d ever looked at him up close, and though Ann stood up tall, her trembling hands were gripping onto her dress. The fire behind her grew a bit bigger than before in sync with the fear growing inside her chest.

The King took hold of her hand and she brushed him off, eyes switched to the floor again. She wished it’d been just another nightmare and when she woke up her prince would be by her side. Then her thoughts got interrupted by the older man’s tight grip on her wrist and arm secured around her waist forcefully.

“Your Majesty! Please let go of me!” She pleaded. She wanted to scream for help yet she couldn’t. He was the King, he was the Law, shouting for help could get her executed. 

The voice inside her head was desperately screaming her lover’s name. Where was he anyway? He should’ve been here, not the King!

“Don’t be shy, darling. I know you want me.”

Ann didn’t think twice as she violently pushed the man away, causing him to stumble a few steps backwards and widen his crazy eyes at her.

“How dare you?!” He growled and marched towards the frightened girl like a tiger attacking a wounded deer. 

The fire behind Ann flared out all of a sudden before he could grab her. She fell down onto the floor and opened her eyes to find a horrific scene right in front of her. The King was on fire. 

He screamed in agony as the flames consumed him in a way he’d intended to do to her. Ann stared at her shaky palms, completely terrified. She knew she’d subconsciously done it. Her fear and anxiety had caused her own powers to go out of control, now she couldn’t stop it anymore, she didn’t know how. So she burst into tears and held her knees to her chest as she watched the man in front of her howl and drop down onto the carpet while the flame was eating him alive.

“Guards!” The loud scream at the entrance caught Ann’s attention. It was no other than Princess Emilié, who was holding back the Queen from rushing in to save her husband’s life.

“No, this isn’t my fault! I swear!” Ann cried out, though nobody cared what she had to say. So before the men in armors arrived, Ann fled out of the room. 

“Witch!” Screamed the desperate wife whose husband was dying right in front of her. Ann could hear them chasing after her, she didn’t look back and kept on running until she got to the throne hall, where she found Edward, her only hope. 

He caught her before she fell down on the floor right in front of him and she could barely breathe.

“Ann, are you okay? What’s wrong? Tell me!” He was scared, yet not as much as her. 

She had no time to explain or ask him why he hadn’t shown up. All she could was blurt out, “save me please. They’re gonna take me away, please save me!” 

The young girl had completely lost her composure for her tears had blurred out her eyesights. Edward didn’t know what his lover meant but he knew she was in pain, physically and emotionally in pain.

The guards didn’t take so long to storm in, followed by Emilié and the Queen, who shouted the second she saw her own son, “Edward, she killed your father!”

“What?!” Edward loosened his grip on Ann’s shoulders, and she had to reach for his hands to keep him with her.

No, not him too. He couldn’t take their side, that would mean she’d be on her own. She pulled him back to her, wondering why he looked so confused. He didn’t believe that she was a cold blood murderer, did he? He couldn’t have believed them!

“Edward, please! It wasn’t my fault—“

“She’s a witch, Edward!” Yelled Emilié when the guards yanked Ann away from the Prince. And he let them. He let them.

“She came to the King’s reading room and…b-burnt him alive!”

“It was you, wasn’t it?! You sent me the note!” Ann screamed at Emilié, whose face went pale in fear of being exposed, yet it was the last thing Edward cared about, unfortunately.

“Ann, tell me you didn’t…”

“It was self-defense!”

“You burnt my father alive Ann!”

“No!”

“You gave me your word! How could you have done this?!” He roared, feeling a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach. All the memories of the night they first met started rushing back, how she’d said she’d hated the King for having murdered her family and burnt down her village. He just had never thought she would use him as an excuse to get close to his father. 

“So it’s been about revenge to you all this time?! I brought you in so you could kill my father?!”

“No!” She sobbed, struggling to get away from the men who were holding her back. “I love you, I really love you!”

“Take her away!” The Queen commanded, and the guards used force to drag Ann out of the room. 

Edward watched them take her away, tears filled his eyes still he didn’t do anything about it, he didn’t know if he should. He didn’t know who to believe or what he should feel right now. He held his mother in his arms as she started crying, then eventually turned his eyes away from the girl he’d once sworn to love until the day he died.

“Edward, please, don’t let them take me away please! Please believe me!”

Her screaming echoed within these castle walls, into his own brain. Those sounds would haunt him for the rest of his life.

.

.

.

Harry saw her again in his dream, the woman who looked like Y/N. 

He was back in that room, she was there, once again begging for his help. He tried to ask her to explain what was wrong, but before she could, she faded away. 

The dim light on the ceiling above his head slowly came into view. Harry didn’t recognize this room. Why was there a tube linked to his wrist and what was with all these machines by the side of his bed? 

“You’re awake.” 

He slowly turned to the side and saw his manager Jeff sitting in an arm chair, staring at him.

“What happened? Why am I in a hospital?” Asked the singer, then suddenly he remembered something more important than his condition right now. “Where’s Y/N?”

Jeff sighed, which made Harry think whatever he was about to say wouldn’t be good news. The older man was well aware that he shouldn’t tell his client this while he was still in a hospital bed, yet the Harry he knew too well wouldn’t stop worrying and overthinking until he received his answer.

“She left a while ago,” Jeff spoke the truth. “She gave me her resignation.”

“What?” Harry’s eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth fell open, he didn’t want to believe this. She couldn’t have left him after everything they’d confessed to each other. He might not be mentally stable at the moment but he knew their little moment earlier in his dressing room was real. She told him she loved him and that was real!

With difficulty, Harry rose from the bed and Jeff had to rush to his side to keep him from standing up.

“Hey, mate! You can’t leave now, they said—“

“I need to go find her!” He tried to push Jeff away but he was too weak to do so.

“Harry, you can’t, you don’t know where she is!”

“How could you let her go?!” 

“I couldn’t force an employee to stay when she wanted to quit!” The older man breathed harshly as he held onto his friend’s shoulders and urged him to sit back down.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry shook his head fast to get rid of those images of Y/N begging for his help in the previous dream. It felt too real to ignore. What if Y/N was really in trouble in real life? She might need him there with her.

“Harry, kid, hey…” Jeff got down on his knees and held Harry’s hand while Harry sat on the edge of the mattress. “If you want to see her that bad, I’ll call her for you alright? But you can’t go anywhere until the doctor says you can.”

Though Harry wanted to see his love in person, his whole body was against it. So he decided to compromise by giving Jeff a nod, which was a sigh of relief to the manager.

“Please do that, thank you…”

“Now lie down, I’ll go get her for ya,” Jeff reassured him once more then helped him lie back down. Everything gradually became hazy once his head hit the pillow. Harry saw Jeff heading outside and talking to a nurse, then just like that he nodded off, drifting back to the familiar places at the back of his mind.

.

.

.

It’d been a week, a week which felt like a century long. Time seemed to move so slowly when you were surrounded by four brick walls. The only connection between Ann and the outer world was that tiny gap they called ‘window’ high above near the ceiling, which a person twice her height couldn’t even reach. 

Ann had spent nearly seven days in this tower already. They kept her there until she received the final decision from the new King, King Edward.

She’d heard from the guards about the old King’s death, and that the royal members had told their people he had passed away from severe injuries from a hunting trip. They didn’t mention her setting him on fire and that she was a witch. So despite knowing it was a desperate thing to do, deep down in her wounded little heart, which was still struggling to continue beating, Ann hoped Edward realized that she wasn’t the one at fault, that she did it for self-defense, that she loved him too much to use him as an excuse to take revenge.

Sitting in the corner of the room with her knees pulled to her chest, Ann started counting the bricks on the walls to keep her mind sane for she knew many people who had been imprisoned didn’t get out the same. Their minds had been confined and minimized to the space they’d been locked in and Ann didn’t want that to happen to her, if she could ever get out of here though.

The heavy door was unlocked for the second of the day, and it wasn’t time for her second meal yet. The young girl stood up immediately, with a broken smile on her face, hoping it’d be him, hoping he would run into the room and hold her tight then tell her he would not let those people hurt her in any way. But she was once again, disappointed. 

It wasn’t him, it wasn’t her Edward. It was two men dressed in amours, here to deliver the news, which she already knew would be unpleasant to hear.

“I came in the name of His Majesty, King Edward…”

Ann felt a lump in her throat, still her head was held high for she didn’t want to look as destroyed on the outside as she was already on the inside. 

From the paper sealed by Edward himself, the man read a long list of crimes she’d allegedly committed and she didn’t pay attention to any of them for the only thing she was truly guilty of was falling in love with the future King of England. 

The only word that mattered, the only word she heard loud and clear, the only word that pierced through her chest like a glass knife after hammering in the walls of her brain — ‘Execution’.

That only word sent her down on her knees into a sobbing mess once the guards exited and the door was locked again. By this time tomorrow, she would face her death, and her ultimate ending would be her burnt to ashes by the order of the man she loved with all her heart. She’d looked past every single warning sign for him, and now it was too late to regret or change her own fate. 

It was so stupid of her to believe anyone in this palace could have a kind heart; it was so stupid of her to believe he had truly loved her; it was so stupid of her to try and play this game against her own destiny. 

But, did she deserve all of this? Did she deserve to die for protecting herself, for falling in love, for putting trust in another person? Or did the man who had fooled her into believing they could have their own happy ending despite of everything against them, who’d fed her lies by saying he would always choose her? And after all of this, the thing that pained her the most was the fact that she’d seen it coming all along. When it came to making a choice, she would be the last thing he chose.

.

.

.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. If you haven’t already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin—“

Watching the last passengers boarding, Y/N ignored the airline announcement as always. She just wanted the plane to take off right away so when she woke up from a nap she was back in London again. Being home with her friends would make this heartbreak easier to cope, or so she hoped.

Now that she thought of him, she suddenly remembered she’d never got to say one last goodbye. The last time they spoke, she told him she would come back, and now she was leaving him for good. But how was this gonna work then? How could you leave someone behind when they were all you could think of?

The business man sitting next to her wore the same cologne as him. That flight attendant over there had his eyes color. Harry also owned a similar cardigan as the man a few seats away from her. It was like he was everywhere, even if he wasn’t here. This got Y/N wondering if the past life’s her had put a curse on just Harry or herself as well. Clearly she was suffering too…

Her train of thoughts was derailed by the sound of her ringtone. They still had a few minutes left until all devices must be turned off, so she decided to check who was calling instead of turning off her phone. And the second Y/N saw his name lit up on her screen, she nearly cried. The girl covered her mouth to hide the tiny gasp in reaction to him calling her, which meant he had woken up, and he was okay. Thank God!

Y/N wanted to press answer right away but her finger stopped before it could touch the screen. Jeff might’ve told Harry about her leaving and he was probably calling to ask for an explanation which he deserved. But if she started talking to him, she wouldn’t be able to stop. And soon enough she would find herself coming back to Harry and consequently fucking up his life even more.

Maybe it won’t hurt if you just hear his voice one last time and then hang up…The voice inside her head talked to her, and she concluded that it was a good enough reason to answer the call. She did it quick so her brain wouldn’t interfere in the decision obviously made by her stupid little heart.

“Y/N? Love?”

Oh, if only he knew how hard she had to try not to burst into tears, not to say a single word and just listen to him on the other end of the line.

“I know you’re there.”

I’m here, love, I’m here.

“Say something please.”

I can’t.

There was a long pause. She was afraid he might hang up. 

He didn’t though. He continued, “alright, if you’re not going to speak, just…please listen to me, don’t hang up.”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her, then let Harry proceed on his own.

“I don’t know why you decided to leave, but I can’t try to get an answer out of you…knowing it would only make this harder for us both. I can’t ask you to take a chance with someone with a life as complicated as mine, it wouldn’t be fair…”

That’s not true. That’s not the reason why.

“I know…” she could hear him swallow hard as if the next thing he was gonna say had to be forced out of his mouth “…that you know about Lillie’s news…and I don’t expect you to still want me after that.”

Jeff told him? How could he tell Harry?

“Jeff didn’t tell me that, I found out on my own.” Harry chuckled, leaving Y/N surprised for he’d just read exactly what was on her mind. “In fact, Jeff doesn’t even know I’m calling you. He might think it would be for the best if—if I just let you go…Maybe he’s right. I can’t do that though, not before I tell you this.”

Don’t tell me anything, please. I can’t handle that right now.

“If the baby’s mine I’ll take good care of it, but nothing’s going to change between Lillie and I. We’re over for good. Because I don’t love her anymore…I love you.” 

At this point, Y/N didn’t care if the man sitting next to her found it weird that she was quietly sobbing into the palm of her hand right before the plane took off. All she cared was how broken Harry’s voice was when he stated for the second time that he loved her despite the impossibility of them meeting again.

In fear of her hanging up before he could finish, Harry went on, “this may sound insane to you but I feel like I’d known you long before we met. You’re always on my mind and I see you in my dreams and I wake up hurting to know you’re not there. I guess love is just not for someone like me, but I swear I have this feeling that we do belong together and that…that…” 

He paused and took a deep breath, just like that, leaving that sentence forever unfinished. 

“You made your decision, so I have no other choice except for letting you go. But…if I could choose, I’d always choose you, love. Always.”

She ended the call as soon as he’d said the last word. With her phone held close to her heart and her face turned to the window, her tears started streaming down.

So their story was officially over in this lifetime she guessed. Once again, they didn’t end up together and he couldn’t be the biggest love of her life. This was probably the only way for them to get their happy ending.

But…if they didn’t end up together, was there a happy ending after all?

Dear DANTE NOIRE,

It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!

-

Congratulations, JUSTIN! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklist and send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias; pronouns: Justin, he/him

Age, Timezone: 20, MST

Activity, short explanation: 3-4 hours a day, after work.

Ships: Dante/Kurt since I am filling the connection. Dante/anyone.

Anti-Ships: Nothing.

Triggers: None for me.

Preferred photo for Character’s ID (please give a link): https://media.gq-magazine.co.uk/photos/5d138d392881cc034d0a7267/master/w_1280,c_limit/Adam-Driver-04-GQ-12Dec17_Dante-Brookes_b.jpg

Anything else: I’m filling this connection. https://joie-university-rp.tumblr.com/post/189809373804/requested-connection-for-kurt-hummel-suggested

IC INFORMATION:

Full Name (First, Middle, Last): Dante Matthew Noire

FC: Adam Driver

Age/Year at University (Freshman [1st Year], Sophomore, Junior, Senior, or Graduate Student): 24 years old, freshman/first year

Birth date (MONTH DAY, YEAR): August 13th, 1995

Hometown (please be sure to check the hometowns listed for characters your muse is related to!): Los Angeles, California

Gender/Pronouns: Male, he/him.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Major(s): Philosophy

Minor(s) [optional]: Songwriting/Music

Housing request (remember, only the president of a Greek Organization is required to live at a Greek House to be in it!): Schuester Dormitory Single Dorm 205

Extracurriculars (Click here for the list. Be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, secretary, etc.] If something isn’t listed, please put it here and we will add it to the masterlist!):  Glee Club Member, Fencing Team Member

Greek Life Affiliation [optional] (Please be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, pledge educator, etc.] or if your character is not yet a member, but plans to rush): None.

CHARACTER PROFILE (TW; Alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies):

Dante was born into a relatively normal upper-class family. His parents were a very successful pair, his mother a lawyer and his father a banking executive. He lived in peaceful comfort, went the best private schools for teaching, yet when it came time for him to start building towards a career path, he couldn’t seem to pick one. He was a joy in the classroom and had a knack for tutoring other students that struggled as well. Alas, he didn’t want to be a teacher like his mother recommended, or a social worker like his father suggested. He found his true home in the music room. His parents had him learn piano and other various instruments, including vocal lessons, much to their detriment. When it came to his senior year of high school with not a single college application submitted, Dante came clean to his parents; he wanted to be a musician.

He moved away from L.A. when his family rejected his selected career path, especially after they cut him off from his allowance. When he got to New York, he was dead-broke, but found a job quickly as a jazz -ballad singer and pianist at a couple bars around the city. He sang in parks and street corners, releasing self-written songs online, hoping one day he would get noticed. It wasn’t until he actually took a piece of his father’s advice that he started to gain fame; “Dress as if you already have the job when you go in for the interview.” So, Dante gave himself the new look, dressing like the jazzy, big band singers and performers of old, promoting his image as well as his music.

Dante’s relationship with Kurt ran along with his quest to fame. He met Kurt during one of his nights working at an underage-friendly jazz bar near NYADA’s campus. Due to his talents, the students that came in would tip him well. It was in September of 2016, one year into Dante’s tenure in New York, did he spot the other man in the same seat once a week. It didn’t take long for Dante to introduce himself. Kurt and Dante together felt like they were two puzzle pieces, making a complete picture. When Dante started to gain a small following online, he made efforts to separate his professional life from when he was at home. Kurt made him feel like he could be his true self, open and free, yet while he was on stage, performing for an audience of strangers, he was putting up an act. He knew Kurt’s voice was magnificent, but he never wanted Kurt to think he was using him like that to promote his own career. Dante loved Kurt, and he wanted to keep Kurt far away from his growing spotlight. Let Kurt find his own dream, his own claim to fame, with Dante supporting him the entire way. At least, that was the promise Dante proposed to Kurt with in 2017.

As his fame began to grow and explode, the lines between his face to his growing public and at home began to mix. Dante would come home shitfaced from some party, or a concert, or PR event. Photos online with him holding fans close, kissing their cheeks, and being flirtatious would come out in the tons each time he stepped outside. Kurt would have to sober Dante up, thwarting his attempts to get into his pants. Kurt never obliged while he was drunk, which would result in a heated argument. It wasn’t until the next morning that he would apologize. Trust became very thin, very quickly, turning into a vicious cycle, over and over. It was Dante returning from his first 3-month tour, as drunk as ever, that ended the relationship for good. Another argument had broken out, this time Kurt demanding to know why there were clips online of him running around some party with his hand in some girl’s back pocket. Dante became furious Kurt would think he cheated, yelling up and down it was just for PR. Kurt didn’t buy it, eventually locking himself in the bathroom when Dante threw a glass at him. It wasn’t until Dante woke up the next morning, somehow in his bed, that he realized just how badly he had fucked up. Kurt left him, with the ring on the kitchen counter, the glass cleaned, and fresh coffee brewing in the pot.

The depression that followed Kurt leaving had Dante near suicidal. He tried to find Kurt; his number was blocked, and when he contacted NYADA to find him, they said that he had dropped out. He was blocked on social media, using dummy accounts to find out none of them were being updated. Kurt had disappeared, and there was no way Dante could find him. He gave up, vanished for months from the public eye, nearly destroying his career in its infancy. In that time, Dante wrote songs, poems, and love letters for Kurt he could never send. When his agent demanded work from him, he just tossed the papers on the table in frustration, that having been his only work during that time. It was a good thing his agent had more business sense than Dante, recommending he commit his works to the studio, to audio, to music. And hence, his chart-topping, record breaking, radio dominating album, ‘To Kill the Canary’, was born. It tore away from his jazz swings of the past into a ballad genre, featuring less sax and more acoustic guitar. The day the album released, he saw the crowds form at his feet, resonating and praising his work. He was determined to live despite what happened, even if he couldn’t seem to move on.

With all this success, why attend Joie for a degree? He was set for life, he didn’t need more education. Dante’s agent thought the opposite. With the influence he held, and with him turning twenty-five in August, they thought it would look great for his image if he wasn’t just some good-looking musical flounce, doomed to fail when he was no longer dominating the public. They opted for the Emma Watson route; go to college. Get a degree. That way, he was a cut above all the others in his industry; he wasn’t just a talent, he was educated. He chose philosophy as his major over music because he already mastered music. He didn’t want college to be a complete waste of time, so he decided to learn something completely new. Joie was an easy choice for a university; it was a world-renown college, one his fans would recognize. The fact one of his dummy accounts notified him of a post to Kurt’s Instagram had absolutely nothing to do with this college selection. Nothing at all…

STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY:

(Please answer the following questions IN CHARACTER. Responses can be as long or short as you see fit!)

What made you want to attend Joie University?

The prestigious nature of the school seemed the perfect place to both earn my degree and gain life experience I have been lacking. The administration seemed accommodating considering my current position and gave the impression that I would be treated just like everyone else. Overall, I felt very welcomed and fell in love with Joie instantly.

What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess?

My most positive trait would be my unwavering determination. Even in the face of my family being nay-sayers in the quest for my dreams, I went after them anyway. Now, I wish to prove there is more to me than a pretty voice, exceed my own expectations. Perhaps that is my second trait; ambition for a new challenge. No mountain is too high for me. And that ties into my third best trait being creative problem solving. I simply cannot take no for an answer. If there is a will, there is a way, and I have a lot of willpower.

As far as the negatives of my personality, every positive is a doubt edged sword. For all my determination, it is very difficult for me to know when it is time to stop, reflect, and take it what is around me. I am always pushing for the next goal, leaving me often forgetting to savor the moment. I don’t know when to stop pushing for more, for better. This has had my personal relationships suffer in the past as well, and I do plan to remedy this. Apologies are another weakness of mine. For all I try to correct any wrongs on my part, simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ seems to escape my mind. A third flaw… I am frequently told I am too generous with my money. It isn’t like I could possibly use it all, so I use it on others. This has lead to a few personalities latching onto me simply for my wallet or my fame. I suppose that makes me a sub-par judge of character.

Which of your traits do you value most?

My ambition, by far. Taking on the impossible and making it believable is something I enjoy doing, both in music and in life. I wish to up the ante by studying for my degree, see what challenges I can tackle next.

How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole?

Being I am a special case, it would be no lie to say my experience in the school could lead to positive press. I would also be interested in investing in the school through funding scholarships and such, once I am no longer a student. I do believe in the power of education, so on the same hand I do not wish to distract from other students attending. Making a show of myself here is not the goal. I wish to meld into the student body just as a regular attendee, no special treatment. That is what I could bring.

What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU?

The typical college experiences. The ups and downs of dorm life, the stress of finals, the development into a greater person leaving than you were when you arrived. I want all these things.

What is a quote or song lyric that describes you?

“I wanna take you high up, Let our hearts be the only sounds, I wanna go where lights burn low, And you’re only mine.” -James Bay, ‘Wild Love’

It’s Been a While

Chapter 4

Warnings: Bad Writing, angst I think? Dark characters with bad intentions

It turned out, divorce in America was much easier to file for than divorce in Norway. Your brother had almost no one on his legal team, Arne had dismissed almost all of your father’s staff and turned over most of his property to charities or left them alone unkept, so you had little help moving forward in your life. You took up residency in your mother’s old room in the large house, and began to piece what you could together.

You hired back staff first, help in the house and immediate estate, cleaned up and rented out the properties Arne had let fall into disuse. Then came filing for the divorce, which just so happened to be right around the time you were due. You decided to wait, getting Hvitserk to sign divorce papers while you were pregnant wouldn’t work, not if you hadn’t planned on telling him that you went through with the pregnancy.

Part of you loved Hvitserk, you knew that, it probably always would. But Hvitserk had walked out on you in the hospital, when you had been at your most vulnerable in your whole life, even more so than when your parents had died. By then you realized how used you had been. You had been used as a puppet since you were sixteen, by Aslaug, Ivar, Hvitserk too. Once the baby was gone, you were worthless to Hvitserk, that’s how you felt. That’s what he showed you by walking away.

It hadn’t been Hvitserk who had called, it was Ivar first, then Ubbe. You were settling in as much as you could, moving was stressful enough when you didn’t have a doctors’ appointment once or twice a week, and you had work to do besides moving. You knew it was coming though, that you couldn’t just disappear and Hvitserk would be done with you, let you leave, though part of you hoped for it. Still to be safe, you weren’t answering any calls what withheld Call ID, mostly because you were getting a lot of them.

Seven calls you skipped, that read only “No Call ID”, before ‘Boneless’ and a scowling Ivar popped up across your phone’s screen.

“What the fuck are you doing you stupid girl?” Ivar was hissing through his teeth over the phone as you put it to your ear. “You get back here NOW! You’re a Lothbrok, so get back to the estate. I can’t believe Hvitserk is letting you get away with this BULLSHIT!” he roared, and you held the phone away from your ear.

“I didn’t know you had such strong feelings, Boneless,” your voice monotone across the speaker. Ivar usually didn’t bother you anymore, he deemed himself more important than trying to get under your skin, though sometimes he would make a snide comment and smirk as he watched your eyes flash with rage.

“You are disgracing the family,” Ivar spoke evenly, “you don’t realize what you’re doing, do you?”

“I’m not disgracing anyone, Ivar, Hvitserk walked out on me!” You hadn’t spoken the words out loud, and now you yelled them at Boneless, your tormenter. Ivar didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Hvitserk is still in Norway,” Ivar’s voice grew icy, “you are in America. Tell me again, who is it that left?” Ice and fire, that’s how you would describe Boneless, hot and cold and ruthless.

“Leave me alone, Boneless.” You hissed out and hung up the phone. Ivar didn’t call again for a few days.

  Ubbe called next, though the conversation was much different. If you were to talk to any Lothbrok right now, Ubbe was the easiest, most diplomatic of the brothers.

“Hello?” You had been laying down as the doctors had told you, though you hated how often this pregnancy had you sitting or lying instead of keeping busy.

“Hello, how are you feeling?” Ubbe spoke lightly though you could picture his face speaking into the phone.

“I am alright, how are you doing Ubbe?” You waved of Arne, who had been sitting on the couch across from you, his head pricked up at the mention of Ubbe’s name.

“Neither of us are all right I don’t think.” Ubbe wasn’t going to let you lie to him. He sighed slowly, then spoke again, “Why don’t you just come back home? We’ll get you home in under 24 hours, we can forget about this.”

Ever the voice of reason; Ubbe loved making peace, making deals, quieting things down. He reminded you so much of Ragnar.

“I would also like to forget, Ubbe.” You were quiet for a moment. “All I want is to be left alone. And why can’t I?”

Ubbe let out a dry laugh.

“You can’t just fly to Los Angeles and expect your husband not to contact you, what the hell are you thinking?”

“Hvitserk still hasn’t contacted me, Ubbe.” It was true, he hadn’t, Ivar had called the day before, but no Hvitserk yet. It broke your heart every day he didn’t call, but what could you do? You could hear Ubbe groan loudly over the phone.

“Look, he’s not himself. He’s been out getting fucked up every day, or staying closed away in your room, he’s yelling at Ivar saying it’s his fault, he almost held a funeral for the baby. He’s out of his head, you need to come back home, he misses you, he needs you back.”

A funeral for a baby that wasn’t dead, Hvitserk really was out of his head. He sounded like a mess, and you had too many messes at this point.

“I’m sorry Ubbe, but I need some time. There’s a lot going on there, I need some time away. It’s quiet and calm at my brother’s house, and I need a rest. Besides, if Hvitserk is going out, he can’t be missing me that much.” Again, you heard a groan and Ubbe swearing under his breath.  

“Time, how much time?” Even Ubbe could turn cold if you pushed him. He clearly wanted you home as much as Ivar did.

“A few months Ubbe, I’m not sure.” You needed to be in California for six months before you could file for divorce. The timing worked out, as your baby would be born in four months, which would mean Hvitserk would never know that you had continued your pregnancy. You wanted the Lothbroks gone from your life, and you knew you could never be free of them if Hvitserk or his brothers found out.

 Hvitserk called by the end of the week. His voice was scratchy and a little bit slurred, you could picture him chain smoking cigarettes with a bottle in hand, probably standing somewhere he shouldn’t be standing.

“Hey darlin’,” it was a relief to hear his voice, even after everything that happened, though it was a short-lived relief. The happiness faded fast as he kept talking, you could tell he was fucked up.

“I’ve missed you so much, I’ve wanted to call the whole time-”

“Hvitserk are you drunk?” You cut him off, you could tell he was, he always liked to call and apologize or make excuses for something when he was on something or plastered.

“No, no I had a couple drinks but I’m sober enough I swear-”

“Are you high on something else too? Are you?” You were angry, you didn’t want to hear him sniffle and worm his way back into your life, you knew he was too fucked up to know what he was saying.

“Baby, no I- I want you to come home, it’s been too long, and I need you to come home now.” Hvitserk was more adamant now, though his speech was still slurred, and you could hear him sniffing.

“I’ll be back when I’m ready, Hvitserk,” you weren’t going to play his games, he was a wreck that you wanted no part of anymore. He had walked out on you, his behavior the last year had been shady to put it mildly and you were unconvinced he still loved you at all.

“No, we can come get you, you need to come home baby, please-” you hung up the phone on drunk Hvitserk and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

 Aslaug called next; you were surprised she wasn’t more furious. Somehow her edged calm was more unsettling than Ivar’s anger.

“Are you sure that this is the best decision for you?” You didn’t like her tone, it was almost honeyed calm, the same way it had been when she convinced a helpless teenager to marry into her family and steal her assets.

By then you were farther along, it had been two months since you left and settled into your brother’s large home. Two months and you hadn’t heard anything from the brothers or the family.

“What decision are you talking about Aslaug?” You were determined not to let her onto anything that was happening in your life, you knew by now she was a snake.

“I know what you’re planning dear,” Aslaug continued, your hand went to your stomach in fear. “You’re planning on divorcing my son.” She spoke with finality. You were relieved again; you were worried she had found out about your pregnancy.

“What are you talking about Aslaug?” you asked, still not wanting to let her onto your plans to get a divorce the minute time allowed. Her voice took on a darker tone, she was nearly snarling.

“You’re not as smart as you think you are, so don’t start playing games you don’t know how to win, do you understand?” You could picture Aslaug’s angry face taking on a dark look.

“Aslaug, I’m taking a break. This has been so hard on me, and the boys are busy with their business.” You weren’t lying, this was probably the most trying time in your life other than losing your family when you were a teenager.

You weren’t lying about the boys and their business either; the three brothers spent almost all their time in Ivar’s office, or “out”, while you weren’t allowed to ask questions, or if you did you got dead ends. Hvitserk was dodging questions and spent all his time away, empty promises when he came home in the early morning reeking of booze, Ubbe laughing and holding him up in the doorway.

“I would be careful about taking too much time away sweet girl, this is your home, and you will come back to your husband, I promise you that.” Aslaug’s voice was poisonous.

“You can’t bully me into coming home,” you were angry now, this woman had controlled you for years and you were finally free from her grip. “I’m not coming back until I’m ready. I am welcome here as I am in Norway, this was my father’s estate and my family home. I will come back to Norway when I am ready, do you understand?” You flipped her words on her, hoping to get under her skin. She huffed in reply, then ended the call.