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thefanficmonster · 4 years

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Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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breathlessmorro · 3 years

Note

*emerging from the depths of hiatus to get a sip of that destiNY* oo how about college AU shenanigans? i'm not good at prompts sorry >.<

You ask - you shall receive!

Synopsis - For years, Morro has been forced to put up with Kai's annoying antics in class, leaving him with a bad permanent record and even worse temper. However, things aren't exactly how they appear.

College Isn't Easy, They Said.

Morro grinded his teeth together as he fought to keep quiet, diligently taking his notes and trying to remember what his professor was saying. His handwriting may have been more harsh than it usually was, but at least he was managing to stay calm and collected. Already, he had half of Professor Chen's lecture condensed into clear and concise notes that could make a PowerPoint Presentation beam with pride. Not as easy a task as it might seem with the idiot next to him.

Kai Smith - as always - had his earbuds in and was completely ignoring the lesson. Not that the earbuds did much to silence the irritatingly loud and obnoxious music blaring from the mini-speakers. In fact, Morro often wondered if Kai had such a big listening problem because of the volume in the first place. The aggressive tempo of drums and guitar were grating on Morro's nerves every single day, and he had to fight to keep his cool. He wasn't even sure why Kai was taking a psychology class in the first place when his major wasn't even related to it. It seemed Kai's presence served no purpose other than to annoy; and annoy it did.

Things had been like this for years now. Morro would find out he had a class with Kai, and of course was forced to sit next to him. Showing even an ounce of distaste meant that Kai would take it as an invitation to try and distract Morro in any way possible. Whether it be tapping a pencil, playing footsie, or like now, listening to deafening metal music that he didn't even like, Kai was determined to get Morro in trouble. He took every single opportunity to try and make him look bad. The amount of times where he succeeded didn't matter, only that Morro's hatred for the smug grin that followed worsened with every passing day.

This year, Morro had sworn it wasn't going to happen. Freshmen in college did not shout at their classmates in the middle of a lecture, and Morro couldn't afford to look bad in front of the faculty here. Not while his father was the dean of the university.

So once again, he gathered his steely resolve, and brought his attention back to Chen's lecture about Elemental Envy, a condition where a person became obsessed with elemental powers to the point of violence. An ironic subject for him to teach about, Morro had once thought. Though any logical thinking had left him once he'd seen Kai make a beeline for him that morning. It had of course returned with the lecture regarding jealousy over a certain elemental ability leading some to aggression.

Sensing that Morro was gaining some moral high ground, Kai decided that right then was an appropriate moment to lean over and whisper to him.

"Sound like someone we know?" he snickered, causing Morro to shoot a nasty glare at him before turning back to his notes.

Clearly unsatisfied with the reaction, he tried again.

"C'mon, that was funny." Morro didn't think it was. "Lighten up."

Morro felt his eyebrow twitch. He was fairly certain that meant he was stressed.

He counted the seconds of sweet and glorious silence before he could hear Kai scoot closer again. Without the earbud in his ear, the music was slightly louder than before. Not that it was catching Chen's attention yet of course.

He made it five seconds even. "Think there's some kind of green ninja envy?"

Oh. Low blow.

"You're one to talk," Morro hissed at him, keeping his eyes firmly on his notes. It wasn't lashing out if it was just one statement, he reasoned with himself. "You were obsessed at one point too."

He quickly cursed himself for humoring Kai's jab once he saw the beaming grin across his face. On a good day, that kind of comment would have ticked Kai off to where he would be the one to cause a disturbance, but it seemed Kai came to class armed with patience today. A rare feat. Morro vaguely considered congratulating him.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Kai leaned back in his seat. "At least I didn't bully my own cousin." Of course, this argument again.

"Can't you leave it alone?" Morro bit back, glancing in Kai's direction before looking back to his notes. "That was in high school. I don't even-"

"What was that, Morro?" Ah shit. "Do you have something you want to share?"

Chen's high-pitched voice was tolerable when it wasn't directed at anyone specific, but the way Chen's said someone's name made it a thousand times more irritating. Seriously, did he just hate his students or something? Why even become a professor?

Meeting his eyes, Morro shook his head, leaning back into his seat. "No, sorry," he answered. "Just thinking out loud."

Chen raised a brow at the excuse. Clearly he hadn't bought it. Especially not when Kai had already scooted back into his own seat, pretending to be writing his own notes.

What a guy.

"Well keep the thinking to a minimum. Others would like peace and quiet."

No fucking shit, Morro thought to himself as he nodded. One Chen's back was turned, he glared at Kai again, before looking to see how many notes he'd missed.

Seriously, this couldn't be allowed to go on much longer. Morro had to change classes.

***

"Seriously?! There's no other -"

"If you want to stay in psychology, that is the only available class."

"But he's -"

"In the same study program as you are."

"Ugh!" Morro slumped in his seat, covering his face with his hands. He'd thought complaining to Wu would be enough to convince him to get out of the class, but apparently none of Chen's other periods had room for another elemental master. The Elemental Study Program was created for elemental masters across Ninjago who wished to learn more about their abilities. It offered an advanced learning course for those enlisted, and also kept them in classes together. Which meant there was also a limit on how many were placed in a class to, "keep other students safe." As if they were a threat. The program had become a lot less separate from other students once When had taken over, but there was still a lot to be improved on.

Wu gave Morro a sympathetic look before clearing his throat. "I understand why you have your reservations about Kai, but surely he's not distracting you too much." Morro pulled his hands away from his eyes to see Wu typing something on his computer. Leaning over the desk to see what it was, he narrowed his brows when he noticed his grade book being pulled up on the monitor. "Your grades are as excellent as ever."

Morro huffed as he sat back in his seat, crossing his arms and blowing a strand of hair from his face. "My permanent record isn't," he grumbled. "Any shot I have at a future job could be completely erased once people hear about how, 'disruptive,' and, 'disrespectful,' I am in a formal setting. You don't understand how frustrating it is to have a professor automatically hate you when you haven't even done anything wrong yet."

"You're right, I don't." Wu set his elbows down on the desk, resting his chin on his hands and gazing over Morro thoughtfully. "But have you ever considered asking Kai why he likes to antagonize you?"

"I think it's obvious," Morro scoffed. He averted his eyes from Wu and uncrossed his arms, swallowing hard when he spoke again. "It's because of how I treated Lloyd in high school. I know it wasn't right, but I stopped, didn't I? And I apologized. But Kai just wants to get me in trouble."

Wu hummed, a consideration sound before setting his hands down. "Well if Lloyd has already forgiven, why would Kai continue to seek you out?"

"I don't know, probably because he hates me?"

"Now don't jump to conclusions," Wu chuckled, shaking his fondly at Morro's pout. "How about you ask him yourself? I know your next class isn't for a few hours. Surely you could track him down and confront him."

Morro thought it over. Sure, confronting Kai would give Morro the chance he needed to speak his mind without reprimand, but it could also mean making things worse between them. Morro's relationship with Lloyd was rocky enough as it was, and that was mostly because of how he and Kai were always at each other's throats. He didn't need to make it worse. Then again, he could also find a way to get Kai to stop for good, and his permanent record could have a chance to recover.

He groaned, dropping his head against the back of the chair before meeting Wu's gaze again. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll try to talk to him. But," he narrowed his eyes at Wu and pointed at him, "don't think it's gonna magically fix things. He's stubborn and an ass."

"That's two things you have in common already." Wu smiled at him. "Now go on, shoo. I have some papers to file and unless you want to help me-"

Morro was already out the door.

***

He found Kai sitting with two other students in the courtyard, their elements on display for all to see. At first, he wasn't sure who the other two were, before recognizing them as Jay and Nya. Morro didn't talk to Nya that much, but he was all too familiar with his cousin, Jay. Their delightful family reunion hadn't been that delightful, and so they barely spoke to each other.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Morro gathered the remnants of his courage and patience before stepping towards them. He stopped right behind Kai, and cleared his throat to get his attention.

Kai turned around with a gleeful expression, which quickly morphed into something more smug. "What's up, breezy?"

Morro rolled his eyes, and caught Nya doing the same before he opened his mouth. "Hi. Jay, Nya, can I borrow him for a moment?"

"I dunno," Jay squinted at him. "You gonna bring him back?"

"Only if I want to."

"Ha!" Kai grinned at him, extinguishing the small flame in his hand. "Like you're gonna get the chance. Be back in a sec, guys."

Brushing off his pants, he rose to his feet, meeting Morro's gaze. As always, Kai met his stare with defiance and smugness. Morro hated it, but he had to get this over with sooner or later. His reputation seriously depended on it. His sanity too. Morro gestured for Kai to follow him, and started walking away from the crowded campus grounds.

"So what's so urgent you just had to pull me away from my friends, huh?" Kai asked as they made their way through the crowd of students. Morro's brow quirked upwards at the laid back question, as if Kai really had no idea why Morro would want to talk to him.

Exhaling through his nose, Morro rolled his eyes. "What do you think, Kai?" he scoffed at him. "I need you to stop annoying me during class. It's distracting and I can't afford that."

Morro winced as Kai barked out a laugh. "Seriously dude?" The latter shook his head, his entire body shaking with uncontained amusement. "That's it? I thought it was something important, like Wu needed my help with something."

"If he needed your help, why wouldn't he just tell you himself?"

"I don't know," Kai shrugged. "I don't understand anything he does, honestly."

Morro glanced over his shoulder to give Kai a dirty look. "So you think he'd just ask me, when he knows I literally hate everything about you, to tell you about some important mission?"

Again, Kai's shoulders shrugged. "Wouldn't be the weirdest - wait." Kai stopped walking, prompting Morro to stop as well. He turned around, fully prepared to snap at Kai for stopping when he caught his expression. "You hate me?"

Kai's normally mischievous and vibrant brown eyes were suddenly clouded with - well, Morro didn't know what. His smug little grin was gone, and his shoulders had gone completely tense. Any biting comeback Morro could have come up with died on his tongue, and he hesitated before answering.

"Well, I guess it's a pretty strong word for it, but I don't exactly like you." Morro shifted slightly, suddenly feeling uneasy. "All you do is annoy me and get in trouble. We're not friends, and we don't talk outside of classes or the program."

The uneasy feeling crawled up Morro's throat as Kai's shoulders fell, his eyes downcast and melancholy. "Right. Sorry about that." He rubbed at his arm awkwardly before walking again. "Is that what you wanted to talk about then?"

Taken aback by the sudden change in atmosphere, it took Morro a second before he too started moving. The crowd of students had decreased rapidly, leaving them alone at the edge of campus grounds. He considered Kai's words before answering them, careful not to set him off.

"Kind of, I guess." He sighed, before shaking his head. "I just want you to stop, okay? I know you're only doing it because of how I used to treat Lloyd, but I'm not like that anymore. We made up and moved on." He met Kai's gaze firmly, ignoring the warning bells that were ringing in the back of his head once he saw the disappointment reflected back at him. "So why didn't you?"

Kai sputtered for a moment, shaking his head. "What? No, I - Okay, sure. That might have been how it started, but I thought that…" He trailed off, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck and averting his eyes. "Once you apologized, I thought we were just fighting for fun. I didn't know you were still taking it personally."

"Personally?" Morro raised a brow at him. "How could I not? Every single day, it's always, 'remember when you did this?' and just constant jabs from you. What else could it have been?"

"I don't know, maybe - " Kai cut himself off before shaking his head. "No, forget it. I'm sorry, I should have been paying more attention. That's my fault."

"A little bit," Morro deadpanned.

Kai winced at that, and Morro could tell that it had stung. Maybe he should have been more careful, but Kai was confusing him now, and he didn't like being confused. He stayed quiet as Kai stared into space for a moment, considering leaving when Kai spoke again.

"Listen; after you and Lloyd made up, I realized I kind of like messing with you," he said softly, crossing his arms and refusing to meet Morro's eyes again. "I mean, you never just let me, so it kind of felt like a fun game. Everything I threw at you, you just matched super easily. I really liked messing with you, and I thought that…"

As Kai trailed off once again, Morro finally caught a glimpse of his face. A bright red blush spread from Kai's nose and cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears. His stance was awkward and nervous, shoulders tense and head down. At first, Morro thought that this was the beginning to a very good apology, but now it was starting to seem like something else entirely.

Taking a deep breath in, Kai finally met Morro's eyes, with enough conviction in them to make the latter freeze in place.

"I thought that you liked me too."

Oh. Oh.

Thinking back to every conversation they'd ever had, yeah. It was easy for Morro to see how Kai had come to that conclusion. All those attempts at getting each other's attention, the games to test each other's patience until one of them snapped. Of course Kai liked him. That was how every guy acted around their crush. Morro couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Guys were stupid.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Morro could see Kai staring at him almost nervously, like he was waiting for someone to shout at him. Clearing his throat, Morro opened his mouth.

"I…" Very articulate. "Oh. I didn't think of it like that I guess," he shrugged, not really knowing how to respond. "I was so busy getting mad at you, I thought… Well, you know what I thought."

"Yeah," Kai sighed, shaking his head. "I do. I'm sorry, I should have - "

"Wait!" Morro couldn't let Kai finish, not with the way this conversation appeared to be heading. "I never once said that I was against it."

That took Kai by surprise, and it showed. His shoulders dropped, his eyes went wide, and he stared at Morro for a moment before shaking his head. "But you said you hated me!"

"I also said that was a really strong word."

"So you do like me?"

Morro held up his hands. "I didn't say that either," he said, a small smile sneaking its way into his expression. Knowing that Kai had actually been crushing on him this whole wasn't an entirely unpleasant thing, actually. Morro had eyes. He knew Kai was a real piece of work when he wasn't busy being annoying. "But… I don't think I'd be opposed to trying something new."

Kai's grin practically swallowed his face, and Morro could only imagine how sore it must have made his cheeks. "Alright, something new." He hesitantly stepped closer, the blush returning in full force. "I can work with that."

"Good." Morro stepped closer to him as well, before his smile turned serious. "But don't think you can get away with annoying me every day now. Being cute is only going to get you so fa - "

Kai cut him off, pressing his lips gently to Morro's before pulling away with a smile.

"You talk too much."

Morro grinned, before pulling Kai back into another kiss.

Yeah, he could work with this.

#kai smith #morro #kai x morro #morro ninjago #kai ninjago #destinyshipping ninjago #firestorm ninjago #windflame #sensei wu #master wu #college!au #breathless writes

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peggyrose19 · 3 years

Text

Club Knocked Up

Um. Hello there. It’s been a minute *three months* hush you. But uh, here’s the next chapter of my Waitress AU. If you, like me, have forgotten everything that has already happened, you can find the first two chapters here. I make no promises on regular updates because, as we’ve discovered, I’m shit at those. So, as always, thank you so much for reading, and thank you for your endless patience. Characters belong to @lumosinlove.

cw: food, pregnancy

Leo waited impatiently at the doctor’s office, a wrapped pie cradled in his lap. It had become a tradition, making a new special pie for his doctor anytime he saw her. This time was no different, despite the very different circumstances.

He’d made the appointment a week ago. Something in him had known since then what was happening, but he had avoided thinking about it for as long as possible. He’d made the appointment on a whim, lying sick in the bathroom, fighting down another round of nausea, knowing it couldn’t possibly be normal. And so he’d called and booked an appointment with Dr. Perkins, his doctor since he was a baby.

He didn’t want to be there. Leg bouncing up and down, he stared out the window at the sky, turning pink and orange as the sun set. He sighed. The doctor’s office was better than being at home, he supposed.

“Leo Knut?” a nurse called, jolting him from his thoughts, and he stood quickly, following her back. Suzie, her name tag read.

“How are you doing, honey?” she asked absentmindedly, checking something on the clipboard in her hands.

“Fine, thanks,” Leo replied politely.

“Can you just take those shoes off for me?” she asked as they reached the alcove. Leo did as instructed and went to stand on the scale. He fought the urge to fidget as the nurse read the number and noted the number down in his chart.

Next, he was ushered into a nearby chair and Suzie secured a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. She read it quickly and lessened the pressure, slipping the cuff back into the basket it was in.

“Follow me.” She led him to a nearby room and sat at the computer, typing a few things on the screen. Leo hoisted himself onto the table. As she continued typing, Leo surveyed the walls. Each room, he’d discovered, had different patterns painted on the walls. This one had a checkered pattern, in shades of green and blue. It was a little dizzying.

“Okay honey, and what brings you in today?” Suzie asked, glancing up at him.

“Um, well, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’d been feeling sick for a few days so uh, my friends made me. So, yeah. Now I’m here.”

“Oh, well that’s exciting, congratulations!” Suzie said as her fingers clacked on the keys.

“Thanks.” Leo ducked his head.

“Alright, the doctor is gonna want to do another test, just to make sure.” Leo nodded absent-mindedly. “And if that also comes back positive, he’ll get you started on some prenatal meds and fill you in on everything you need to know, m’kay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, the doctor will be with you in just a few, so sit tight.”

Leo offered her a tight smile before she left, the door closing softly behind her. He sighed once it shut, slouching back onto the table. He did not want to be here.

His mind wandered to the waiting room, with all the expecting mothers looking joyful and excited. He’d felt taunted sitting there earlier, by their smiles and their glow. They were all so happy, those women. They wanted their babies, probably had loving husbands at home, who would be there to support them and take care of them. They were probably loving and kind.

A knock startled him from his thoughts.

“Hi, Leo?” A young man said, opening the door. He had a white coat on, and held his hand under the sanitizer before taking a seat at the computer.

“Hello,” Leo said nervously. He didn’t know this man.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Lupin. It’s good to meet you.”

“Where’s Dr. Perkins?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” The doctor looked confused.

“No… tell me what?”

“Dr. Perkins retired. Yeah, just a few weeks ago. I’ve taken over her patients. I’m so sorry, I thought they got in touch with everyone.”

“Oh. It’s okay.” Leo studied the man in front of him, Dr. Lupin. He had sandy brown hair, stray curls falling in his eyes. He looked tall, fit. A thin scar ran from his left eyebrow to the line of his jaw. Leo didn’t want to know how he got that.

“Alright, well, what seems to be the issue, what’s brought you in today?”

“I’m pregnant,” Leo blurted out, hastily looking away from the scar.

“Oh?” He looked confused.

“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m trans. I don’t know if that’s marked in my chart, but… I am. Um, so. Yeah, I’m pregnant, according to the test I took this morning.”

“Oh, well congratulations!” Leo must’ve made a face because Dr. Lupin’s smile faded. “Not congratulations?” he corrected slowly.

Leo sighed. “I don’t want this baby. It wasn’t planned. I- I don’t even know if I can support a child. But I’m keeping it. I’m keeping it and raising it to be a good person.”

He’d decided on the busride over. He didn’t know if he could even raise a child, didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he also knew he couldn’t abort the baby.

As a child he’d dreamed of being a parent. Even when he knew he would never be a girl, never be a mother, he knew he wanted to raise a child. He wanted to do for someone what his own mother had done for him. But somehow, somewhere along the way, he’d lost sight of that dream. Earl had ruined it maybe, or maybe life had done that. But it didn’t matter, because he was going to do it, and prove to the world it couldn’t beat him that easily.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s get started, then.”

Dr. Lupin said a lot of things that Leo didn’t quite follow, about things to avoid and supplements to take. Leo didn’t really plan on taking any of them, didn’t have the money to afford them all. He also kept getting distracted by those slender hands brushing back stray curls. There was something oddly enticing about it.

“Does that all make sense?” he said finally, and Leo snapped out of his daze.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, it’s all on your record, which you should have access to. And if you ever have any questions, feel free to call.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Dr. Lupin nodded, and smiled.

“Wait!” Leo called out as he made to leave. “I um, I made this for you. Well, for Dr. Perkins. I always brought her a new pie when I came in for a visit. So uh, I guess it’s yours now.” Leo held out the wrapped pie, trying to hide his nerves. Carefully, Dr. Lupin took it.

“Well that’s awfully kind of you. What flavor is it?”

“I call it Mermaid Marshmallow.”

“Well, thank you very much. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

It was only once Dr. Lupin’s back had turned did Leo allow himself to smile.

#waitress au #o'knutzy #food cw #doctors cw #pregnancy #chapter 3 #club knocked up #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

You Gotta Fend for Yourself

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Bruce is Tim's emergency contact. He gets a call to meet Tim at the ER.

“I’m looking for a patient.” The woman behind the ER desk looks bored as she eyes Bruce, takes in the pressed suit and diamond cufflinks. The way he fidgets, drumming his fingers on the desk and trying very hard not to look as anxious as he feels. It’s easier to reign in his worry when he’s wearing the cowl. “Name?” “Tim Drake.” “Give me a minute.” She types his name into the computer, and Bruce can’t help but wonder how she manages to type with such long fingernails. “Your son is in bed eight. It’s over there, against the far wall.” She points him in the general direction. Bruce considers correcting her on the fact that Tim is certainly not his son, but he doesn’t need to tell this complete stranger that. Let her think what she wants. He thanks her and goes where directed. His chest loosens when he finds Tim sitting on a medical cot, neither bleeding out from a gaping wound nor missing any limbs. Instead he’s playing some sort of racing game on his phone, indifferent to the bustling emergency room around him. An oxygen mask sits beside him, forgotten. He and Bruce should really have a conversation about the importance of listening to medical professionals. “Hey, kiddo.”

Tim looks up and his eyes go wide. “Bruce. You...actually came?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been gargling sand. “Of course I did. I am your emergency contact, after all.” Tim blushes. “I told them not to call you. You really don’t need to be here if you’re busy, I can get a cab home. And I’m sure I can talk the doctors into letting me check myself out without an adult, so—” “It’s okay, Tim. Really. You actually saved me from a board meeting.” Tim doesn’t look at all reassured. Bruce sits on the side of the cot beside Tim, who moves over a few inches. “Your teacher told me you went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of geometry.” Tim rolls his eyes. “I got a candy bar from the vending machine and the wrapper forgot to mention there were walnuts in it. It’s not that big a deal.” “Oh, sure, not that big a deal. You just stopped breathing for two minutes. Totally normal.” “I’m breathing now, aren’t I?” Tim takes an exaggerated breath. “See? I’m fine. And, for the record, it was the teacher’s fault. I had my hand raised for a whole minute trying to tell her that I couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even look at me. Eventually I just passed out.” Bruce blinks. “You raised your hand? While your life was in danger?” “I didn’t want to be rude.” Lord, beer me patience. “I’ll get you an EpiPen to carry with you from now on.” “I usually have one, but I used it up a couple months ago and kept forgetting to ask my dad for another one.” A shrug. “Don’t you keep one in your utility belt?” “That’s for civilians.” Bruce’s eyebrows crease. “It’s for keeping people safe, not just civilians. You’re a person, so I want you to use whatever you need to keep yourself from dying in the middle of class. Got it?” Tim nods, a little sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Now, how are you feeling?” Tim flicks the IV tube. “Cortisone and a shot of epinephrine earlier. I’ll be fine.” Even so, Bruce can’t stop himself from checking Tim over anyway, just to be sure. He needs to see that Tim is okay with his own eyes. He feels Tim’s throat for any residual swelling, checks his pulse. “Can you breathe okay?” “Yep.” “What about your mouth, does it feel numb or tingly? Any swelling?” “No and no.” “Are you dizzy at all, nauseous?” “You do realize we’re in a hospital, right? Surrounded by actual doctors?” “Yes, and I don’t trust a single one of them unless their name is Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne.” “You’re insane.” “Good. Maybe then you’ll stay alive long enough to see the new year.” Bruce takes out his cell phone and drafts the beginning of an email in his notes app. “I should call the school and give them hell for not looking after you. Or at least for not being more aware of their vending machine snacks.” He knew Tim never should have been allowed in a public school. That’s like locking the most perfect, innocent kitten in the world in a cage with rabid coyotes. Completely irresponsible. “You’re overreacting, B.” “You could have died.” Tim scoffs. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t even the worst allergic reaction I’ve had. My parents were terrible at remembering to tell the nannies about my walnut energy, so there were a lot of close calls.” Bruce should be more surprised at that information. After he sues the school for the wrongful almost-death of a student, he should sue Drake Industries just for the hell of it. “Where are your parents? Are they on their way?” Jack Drake is as disagreeable a man as disagreeable men get, but he’s always revving for conflict. Bruce will definitely be able to sway him to his side of this matter. They can bring it up to the board of education, draw up new regulations for the school’s allergy protocols. Tim scratches absently at the rash on his neck. Bruce swats his hand away. “Dad brought Dana on a business trip to Philadelphia. It was only supposed to last the weekend, but they decided to stay a few extra days.” “A few?” “Eleven, to be exact.” Yikes. Big yikes. “You at least called them, right? They’ll want to know you’re safe.” “I called Dad when I first got here, but he didn’t pick up so I left him a message. I’m pretty sure he got it, because Dana keeps texting me to make sure I’m okay and asking if they should come home early. Dad still hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s worried too.” Even as Tim says the words, it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Never mind, fuck Jack Drake. Bruce can find another parent to start an alliance with—one who actually cares about their kid. Maybe Crystal Brown is free tonight… Bruce flags down a passing nurse. “Can I get some discharge papers for my son, here?” Might as well throw that in, give himself some extra authority. Whatever gets them out of here quicker. “Thank god,” Tim says. He plucks out the IV and swings his legs off the bed. “I’m sick of this place. You can just drop me off at home and I’ll be all set?” “Drop you off? You’re coming home with me, Tim.” Was that part not clear? “It’s cool, really. I’ll be fine after some rest. You don’t have to look after me.” “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Bruce thanks the nurse who brings over the discharge papers in record time. People really don’t appreciate nurses enough; he should donate a few million to boost their salaries. He pushes the clipboard into Tim’s hands. “Here, fill these out and we can get going. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred make supper.” “And then I can go home?” Bruce shrugs, eyes fixed on his phone screen as his thumbs fly. “You already have a room made up at the manor, so I don’t see why you can’t stay over tonight. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on you, just in case.” Anaphylaxis can be a tricky thing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen?” “Once or twice.” “Well, they’re right.” Bruce snorts. He works more on his email draft to the school, making a mental note to censor out the swear words during revision. He’s getting flashbacks to years ago when Jason had a close call with some shrimp at a party for a museum opening. Bruce nearly decimated the catering company for not putting out warnings for potential allergens. “Tim?” “Hm?” “How come I’m your emergency contact?” Tim freezes. He doesn’t look at Bruce and twiddles the pen, quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know who else to put? I figured it would never actually be needed, so it wasn’t like you’d ever find out about it anyway. But don’t worry, I’ll change it tomorrow so you don’t need to do this again.” “No,” Bruce says, a little too quickly. “Keep it. It’s...more logical for it to be me. And I really don’t mind.” “You sure? You don’t have to.” “I want to. Partners look out for each other, right?” Tim’s cheeks are flushed under the allergy-induced redness, but he nods. “Right.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.29 #emergency room #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #robin #idiot duckboy #bruce wayne #batman #batdad #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

I love your writing! Can you please write a piece where y/n has been a friend of him for years (all one d years too) and she is famous as well (kinda maggie rogers vibe) they write songs together etc. After the heartbreak from Camille she is always there for him and they realise that they have always been in love with each other, a bit of angst ofc 😂 Thank you very much!! 😍😍

A/N: Thanks so much for the request and the kind messages when I was sick, @irelilien. I loved writing this. I know it’s probably not EXACTLY what you were thinking, but I hope you like it!! <3 <3 <3

Warning: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST!!!

Word Count: 3,961

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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

Started Off As Friends

“Will you relax, Harry?” you laugh, scooting to the edge of the office chair where you sat, reaching over and grabbing Harry’s hands away from his face to reveal his scrunched up eyebrows and dramatic frown, something he always did when he was frustrated. You took hold of his forearms as he pouted and tugged on your arms, making the wheels of your chair roll closer to him, your knees touching and his forehead falling towards your stomach.

Honestly, he could be such a baby sometimes. But as your hand instinctively plopped onto his head, running your fingers through his curls and massaging his scalp, you couldn’t help but smile. For years it had been like this; you and Harry were inseparable since the day you met. Back then he was still in One Direction and you just helped them write songs. You were one of the youngest songwriters on the team and they were impressed by it. Eventually, you began to release some of your own work, and when Harry went solo he often called on you to help with some of his songs, most of which always ended up on an album or being released.

You were there when his fame kicked off. He was there for you when you lost a family member. The two of you hardly even had so much of a fight, more like little bickers here and there. You were there through all of the One Direction drama including when you and Niall had a brief but scandalous (and absolutely not true) rumor spread that you were secretly dating and eloped, something Harry would cry laugh over whenever it was brought up. After all, if there would be any rumors of secret relationships between you and a member of One Direction, it would be with Harry. You were the closest out of all of them. You two had been through a lot in your friendship. More than most. And that included heartbreak.

You’d met practically every girlfriend he’d ever had. You knew details of his relationships that you really didn’t need to know about. And you’d been the subject of many jealous fights. But he’d always have your back. Until Camille.

Everything started great. You thought things had been going so well between them and Camille seemed to really like you. Oftentimes you’d get together just the two of you and have a girl’s night. But everything changed the night of one of your concerts. You were playing in London and the couple came to support. Throughout the night they had a lot to drink and each time you looked down things seemed to get increasingly more tense between the pair. Towards the end, it looked like a full-blown argument had ensued and they both stormed out of the arena. You assumed they were just going to talk it out and would meet you backstage afterward. You assumed Harry would fill you in on all the details later. But hours had passed and everyone had already backed up to leave. It wasn’t like Harry to just leave without saying anything. You called and texted but got no response. Not until the next day.

‘So sorry for leaving like that. We’ll talk later. -H’

But you never did. He practically ghosted you, only getting brief, cryptic texts or calls at random points in the day. The emotional circle-jerk you went through was next-level. Confusion, anger, sadness, indifference, and back to confusion. It was a never-ending cycle. You had later come to find that he only talked to you when Camille wasn’t around. And if she found out you were in communication, another argument would ensue and you’d hear about it whenever Harry called to complain. That’s all it was; a few calls and texts to whine about his relationship until the texts and calls stopped altogether. You hadn’t even seen his face for nearly seven months. For the longest time, you wanted to cry. You felt betrayed.

And finally, a month ago, after seven months of waiting, you had decided you were going to let him go and stop waiting around for him. But, when your phone rang at 11 PM that same night, your toughness crumbled to the ground. You had half a mind to yell and let it all out, or to just hang up, but you couldn’t. Not to him. Not when his heart was breaking. Instead, you invited him over. You must have drunk two whole bottles of wine by yourself, listening as Harry cried about his breakup and catching you up on all the issues they had. And you helped him through it.

For weeks he stayed with you so he didn’t have to be alone. You’d distract him with movies and games, stay up all hours of the night listening and reassuring him. You’d cry with him, laugh with him, and eventually, you’d help him channel his feelings into music. The two of you had written more songs than you can count about Camille and he finally had a sense of what he wanted his new album to sound like, picking a selection of songs on a demo and bringing it over to get your thoughts.

Listening to it brought on its own type of heartache for you. You remembered writing some of those lyrics with him. You remembered how broken you felt having to act like nothing was wrong and you were just happy to have him back. But the truth was, you were still hurt. You never did find out why he left so suddenly in the first place and coming back to you after all that time felt more like a slap in the face than anything. He knew you’d welcome him back with open arms He knew he could take advantage of your friendship because he knew how much he meant to you. Or, at least, he had an idea.

By the end of the demo, Harry looked so unsure that you were almost certain he’d start to freak out and second-guess himself. He rolled his head on your lap so that his cheek was against your thigh and groaned, “It feels like it’s missing something. Maybe I should have added ‘She’s Flames’.”

You shook your head as he sat up, “No. It’s perfect.”

“But what if-”

“No,” you cut him off, looking deeply into his eyes, “I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single word, not a single piano key, not a single song, not even a single song order. Harry, it’s perfect.”

He relaxed his shoulders, letting his lips twitch upwards into a smile, and when he finally spoke, he took her hands in his again and said, “What would I do without you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, slipping your hands back and spinning in your chair to face your computer again, clicking away at the screen and layering instrumentals on your own music you were working on before he came over. Having a little makeshift studio in your flat helped when you couldn’t get in any time at a proper studio.

“Probably sulk at your own house instead of mine,” you mumbled, trying your best to sound like you’re joking.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he whined, switching seats to a roller chair next to you.

You ignored him and continued to work while he talked beside you about possible release dates for his album, cover art, and which songs he wanted to have as his singles. You listened, adding your input where needed, as he carried on, grabbing your phone off the desk beside you and entering in your passcode. You didn’t mind, it was something the two of you always did. There was never any malice or reason behind it, it was just out of sheer boredom. You’d often scroll through each other’s social media dashboard or pictures. You had nothing to hide. Or, so you thought.

You became so hyperfocused on what you were doing that you almost didn’t hear it. It blended in with what you were working on so much that the sound of your voice singing from the speaker of the Harry held in his hands almost went unnoticed. But by the time you realized what he was listening to and snapped your attention to him, the damage was already done.

The knife of insight tore its way in me

A brash collision without sympathy

And maybe when the sun goes down I’ll come round, I’ll come out

Maybe we could take some time,

Unwind, figure out

When the knife of insight tore its way in me

Hit me up if you’re feeling down

Give a little, oh we’ll figure this out

Keep me up, keep my mind around

After dark, after light

Let it go if you want get loud

Make a little fuss, oh its all allowed

Beautiful how it all pours out

After dark, after light

Oh the knife of insight brought me to my knees

Broke me down and taught me how to see

And I know and I know and I know

That maybe we should take some time

Get this out, make this right

Maybe when the sun goes down I’ll come round, tell you all about

When the knife of insight brought me to my knees …..

You were at a loss for words, caught off-guard by him finding that voice note of a song you had recorded late one night three months ago. You could hear the wooshing of cars passing by in the background, remembering you recorded it on a drive to meet up with friends for dinner and didn’t want to forget the wave of creativity. Funny thing was, you completely forgot all about it.

You searched his face, hoping he didn’t understand what you were singing about But Harry wasn’t stupid. He’s worked with you long enough now to know your writing style. And with one look at the time stamp of the recording, he could tell this was written in the thick of when he had stopped seeing you.

“What’s this?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

He knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an explanation, though. For weeks you had thought about what to say or how to confront him for what he did. But confrontation was never your strong suit and all the rehearsed speech had suddenly vanished from your memory.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone out of his hand and shut the music off, “Just something I was working on. Forgot it was still on there.”

He watched as your body tensed, hastily shoving your phone in your pocket. He could see right through your nonchalant attitude and he pressed again, “Is it about me?”

“Harry,” you breathed, forcing a laugh. But your refusal to look him in the eyes was your tell.

“It is, isn’t it?” His question sounded more like an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“How you felt,” he turned your chair so that you were forced to face him and you looked nervously up at him through your eyelashes, his expression sincere, “Obviously you were hurt about whatever I did.”

Your mouth fell and he seemed to realize almost instantly that he had a poor choice of words. But, before either of you could say anything, Harry’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, catching both of your attention. And by a cruel coincidence, you saw that it was Camille calling him. His eyes widened and hastily silenced his phone, but the damage was done. You let out an incredulous laugh and stood up.

“It’s getting late. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said firmly, avoiding his gaze.

You heard him stutter. He wasn’t used to you being stern with him. “What? Why? No, please, let’s talk about this.”

“Talk?” You laughed angrily, “You want to talk? Now? That’s rich coming from you! Alright, Harry, let’s talk, then,” your words were like ice and your heart pounded, finally getting the courage to look at him as you let it all out, “Ten years you’ve been one of my best friends. I’ve done so much for you. I’ve put up with a lot being your friend. All the backlash and drama and spite from your horrible girlfriends. But you always had my back Until her,” you motioned towards his phone.

His eyes fluttered, listening to you get angry. It was a side of you that rarely showed. And when your voice began to crack, he gulped.

You continued, “I was always nice to her. Always. Until one random day, she decided to hate me for no reason. And what did you do? Nothing! You ran after her like a lost puppy and avoided me for almost a year!”

“I didn’t avoid you!” Harry shot back, defensively.

“You didn’t avoid me?” you laughed in a hiss. “Harry, you dodged all of my calls and texts! I never saw you! And when we did talk, the Queen herself couldn’t know about it or you’d have another fight!”

“Don’t call her that. That’s not fair,” he pleaded.

“You want to talk about fair? The way you treated me wasn’t fair! All I was to you in those seven months was someone to complain to, but only if I was kept a secret!”

“That’s not true. Besides, it’s not like you ever complained at the time! You should have said something!”

“I shouldn’t have had to! You’ve always had my back and ended things with other girlfriends for a lot less!”

“I can’t keep ending relationships just because you don’t like them!”

“I never asked you to!” your voices were getting louder now, almost certain that if someone was passing by your open window, they’d be able to hear every word. “Never once did I ask you to break up with anyone or even hint at disliking them. You always did that on your own!”

“Because you’re my friend!” he shot back, his eyebrows furrowing and the crinkles by his eyes more prominent. Your back and forth was quicker now. Both of you speaking even faster.

“Then why did it change with her? Friends don’t treat friends as a last resort!”

“How did I treat you like a last resort? Because of a few missed calls and canceled plans? I was busy!”

“For seven months? No, you weren’t, Harry! You were a coward!”

“And you were jealous!”

“So what?” you snapped back. You could see the shock in Harry’s eyes, but you kept going, “So what if I was? It never made me treat you like dog shit on the bottom of my shoe! You ignore me for weeks at a time and when I finally get a response it’s because you’re crying about another fight you had with her and how neither of you trusts each other. Did I complain once? No. I listened. I never turned my back on you because that’s what a good friend does.”

“That’s what a good friend does? So now I’m not a food friend?” Harry scoffed, “I can’t read fucking minds, Y/N! How am I supposed to know you’re upset if you don’t tell me?”

“How am I supposed to tell you if you never answer my calls?!”

“I came back!” Harry yelled, “I’ve seen you almost every day for a month! You’ve had plenty of time!”

“Did I?” you sneered, “Harry, you were heartbroken about your breakup! What would you suppose I do? Tack on some more reasons for you to feel sorry for yourself? Cry about how you were mean and broke my heart? You didn’t need me getting after you! I recorded an idea for a song on my phone, and now you’re mad because I expressed my feelings in a song that you were never meant to hear?”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Y/N!”

“You think you could have handled the added guilt?” you should back, bordering the edge of condescension, “I helped you write two albums worth of breakup songs about her, Harry! I sat here for hours a day every single day for weeks helping you write lyric after lyric explaining your love for a woman that hated me!” you were on the verge of tears now. “And here I am, the idiot helping you through it, only to find out you’re still talking to her!”

“I’m not talking to her! I called to ask if I could put something in a song!” Harry shot back, “And she didn’t hate you!”

“How can you not see it?” you breathed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I have to watch a man I care so much about going through shitty relationship after shitty relationship. And I’m here, like always, waiting for you to wake up and see that you deserve better! You can’t even admit what you did because you’re too busy defending a girl that broke your heart!”

“I’m not defending her, Y/N! I’m sorry that I hurt you, but it’s not her fault! She didn’t hate you, she was just jealous and untrusting and she had every reason to feel that way!”

Heat rose to your face and your voice got more fierce, “I always treated her with respect! And I never gave her a reason to feel that way!”

“You didn’t, but I did!”

“What does that even mean?! Why would she hate me for something I didn’t even do? That doesn’t even make any sense, Harry! You avoided me for months and you’d argue if she found out you were talking to me, and you’re saying that it had nothing to do with me?”

“No. I mean, yes. Kind of,” he started to get flustered and began talking faster, “It was my decision, not hers. And I’m not defending her. I wanted to talk to you, Y/N, but I couldn’t!”

You were getting angrier. It felt like you were going around in circles with Harry and you were frustrated that he wouldn’t give a direct answer. “Why? You keep beating around the bush instead of just giving me a reason! What possible reason could you have for dropping a friend of ten years out of nowhere? I didn’t do anything! So, why?”

“Because I accidentally told her that I’m in love with you!” he blurted out.

His voice was loud and perturbed. But as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he might have just made a huge mistake. Harry never meant to tell you. He was perfectly happy with keeping this a secret for as long as it took to get over you.

You froze, sitting backward and raising your eyebrows, mouth ajar, “You what?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he spoke quickly, trying to justify himself, “We were drunk at your concert and, I don’t know, it just kind of came out and we started arguing. I didn’t even realize what I had said until the next morning when she was still angry.”

The memories of the night of your concert came flooding back. Images of their slowly fading happy faces turned to anger and fighting started to make sense. But what he was saying didn’t. He was in love with you? Surely he didn’t mean that. He showed no inclination of romantic feelings towards you. There had to be a misunderstanding. What he meant to say was ‘he loved you like a sister’.

When you didn’t speak, he continued to try and explain himself, hurriedly speaking again; something you hardly ever saw from him. Usually he was calm and cool, even when faced with uncomfortable situations.

“I tried to tell her I didn’t mean it and I had no clue why I said that, but she didn’t believe me. She kept saying ,‘I see the way you look at her’ and ‘Everyone knows it. I’m not stupid!’. So I just kept telling her she was crazy and started talking to you less and less to prove her wrong. But she never trusted me after that. And whenever she found out I was talking to you, it gave her more reason.”

“I-” you tried to speak, but he just kept talking, more unsettled now, “I kept trying to tell myself it was nothing. But when we broke up, the first person I thought of was you. I knew you were probably angry with me, but you helped me anyway. You were there for me like you always are. And I knew that Camille was right. It was always you. And honestly, I hated you for it.”

You recoiled, surprised as he started to get more agitated. He continued, “You were there since the start of it and you made me set this impossibly high standard for my relationships! That’s why they all failed miserably! That’s why they all hated you! Because they knew they couldn’t live up to you!”

“You’re blaming me for this?” you argued back, “I didn’t make you compare anyone to me! I didn’t even know because you were too chicken shit to say anything to me!”

“I couldn’t say anything to you! You were my best friend! I didn’t want to lose you! Those few months we didn’t talk were hell! I thought about you every day! Besides, what difference would it have made if I did tell you? You can’t honestly tell me you felt the same!”

“Stop assuming you know how I feel!”

“Well, am I wrong?!” he shot back, seething.

“Yes! You’re wrong!”

There was silence, the two of you just staring at each other, faces filled with frustration. His eyes flickered across your face, looking for some kind of sign as both of your chests rose and fell. His tongue grazed his lips, wetting them from all the yelling. And like the flash of light, both of you lunged forward at each other.

The mess of hands wildly roaming each other’s bodies and tangling in each other’s hair was dizzying. Hungrily, your tongues circled as if you were starved and the only salvation left was his breath entwined with yours. You both stood, only to be pushed backward on your desk, your keyboard slipping out from under you and crashing to the floor. You could feel your back press against your monitor as you eagerly fidgeted with the buttons on Harry’s shirt and before you could undo the last one, he had already managed to undo yours, pulling it down your arms and tossing it somewhere to the side.

Harry became impatient, finally pulling away from your lips and tanking open his shirt, making the last button pop off and roll underneath the desk. You for your first good look at each other; panting, out of breath. Half-naked, you could see every tattoo on his chest that you had always longed to kiss under the dim light of your flat and the veins in his arms bulged as he gripped onto the desk underneath your thighs. His eyes looked fierce and almost rabid as he looked you up and down. There was a moment of pause and thought. Slowly the two of you cracked a smile. And the smile turned into light laughter.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Harry whispered, pressing his forehead against yours and weaving his fingers through your hair just behind your ears as the warmth of his palms lay flat against your cheek.

You smiled, closing your eyes and placing your hands over top of his, breathing in his scent as you softly spoke, “Probably just as long as I’ve waited for you to do it.” And you gently pressed your lips to his once more.

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

Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans

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unholyobsessions · 3 years

Text

Oblivious Memories

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: The Universe is in charge of soulmates and making sure they meet. They have never met anyone as oblivious as Julie and Luke.

Read on ao3

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

For my jatp secret valentine @vividblues262 I hope you enjoy this and you have a as good of a time reading it as I had writing it. thank you to @screwunsaidemily for organizing this! @jatpsecretvalentine

The Universe is a powerful being. They create many great and beautiful things but the one they are revered most for, is soulmates. Each person is assigned someone who they are meant to be with. One just isn’t complete without their other half.

According to everyone, you just know who your soulmate is. There is no specific experience. Some claim to see a string connect their wrists, others say it’s like seeing color for the first time, and others say it feels like your heart stops beating only for it to start again with the same beat as their person.

Each soulmate meeting is unique, and the Universe admits, each pair is different. Some more stubborn than others to meet their person. So getting some people together is harder than others.

But the Universe has never had a harder, more oblivious pair than Julie Molina and Luke Patterson.

. . .

Julie Molina hasn’t met her soulmate but she doesn’t worry, she knows it will happen when the time is right. She traces the tattoo on her forearm, the black music notes that stand out against her white t-shirt, as she lets her mind drift on the topic.

Julie doesn’t know what she’ll experience but she hopes it will be memorable.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t hear the footsteps echoing down the hall and toward her room until the door slams open.

Flynn stomps in, fingers plugging her ears and Carrie follows behind her, clearly annoyed at her girlfriend’s antics.

“Damn it Flynn just listen to me!” Carrie exclaims. “Julie tell her to listen to me!”

Julie simply stares at her two best friends, rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders. Flynn won’t listen to her and whatever Carrie did to get her to act childish is not her problem.

“La la la la la,” Flynn chants, getting louder with each word. And Julie had promised herself a long time ago that she would not get involved in their fights. They’re soulmates and should know how to figure it out themselves, but Flynn hasn’t been in her room for two minutes and she’s already getting on her nerves.

Julie stands with a sigh, walking over to Flynn and yanking her arms apart. “Flynn! Stop yelling,” she commands. Flynn immediately pouts and starts mumbling about Julie being unfair and taking sides.

Julie ignores her best friend and turns to Carrie, who has already made herself comfortable on the beanbag next to her desk. “What’s going on?” Carrie starts explaining what happened between her and Flynn but Julie shakes her head to stop her. “No not that. I mean why are you here? I thought you guys were busy today.”

Flynn pulls her arms from Julie’s grip and goes to sit next to Carrie, seemingly forgetting that they were arguing not five minutes ago. “We were busy, but then the museum got boring so we decided to come here to drag you out of your room. We’re getting coffee.” Flynn isn’t asking, and Julie has learned to recognize when she won’t win. So, she pushes her feet into a pair of sneakers, too lazy to untie and retie the shoe laces, and slips on a cardigan over her dress.

Julie shouts a goodbye to her dad and linking her arms with her friends’, they all make their way to their favorite coffee shop a few streets away. It’s crowded, as it usually is on Saturday afternoons. The tables are filled with students typing away at their computers, attempting to finish essays at the last minute. The booths are filled with friends, gossiping and laughing together. Julie is dragged to the counter, where she orders her usual vanilla iced latte, smiling politely at the barista.

Leaning against Carrie’s side, Julie looks around the shop as she waits for her drink. She finds herself looking at the corner booth, crowded with four boys discussing something she couldn’t quite hear. One of them is hunched over a notebook, lip between his teeth and pencil tight in his hands. Julie stares, intrigued by the brunette. He lifts his head, eyes closed and mumbles something under his breath. When he opens his eyes, they stare right at Julie and she feels her stomach twist with embarrassment. Before she can turn away and try to forget the interaction ever happened, he smiles at her and goes back to writing in his notebook.

Julie’s stomach twists again, but with a completely different feeling. Flynn snaps her out of her daze by placing her iced latte in her hands. Julie thanks her and allows herself to be dragged outside, rolling her eyes when Flynn says that she wants a new jean jacket. Conversation distracts her as she walks away, not allowing her to dwell on the foreign feeling.

The Universe frowns down at them. What just happened? They’ve been putting both of them in the same rooms for years and they never even acknowledged each other’s presence. And when they do, they ignore each other? Did they not feel it? The pull toward their soulmate?

The Universe sighs, frustrated. They will have to work a little harder on this pair.

. . .

A week later, Julie is at the mall with Flynn, helping her find a pair of sneakers to match the jacket she bought the week before. The store they’re in is small, with white walls and red accents. It’s inviting, so it’s no wonder this is the first one they visit. Julie makes a beeline for the benches, and tells Flynn where to find her when she is ready to model the shoes she’s chosen, if she finds any that ‘call to her.’

She scrolls through her phone, mindlessly liking posts on instagram, leaving a comment here and there and entering a couple of giveaways. A loud laugh makes her head snap up and her heart flutter. She doesn’t recognize the voice but there is a yearning within her that she doesn’t recognize. Twisting her head, trying to find the source of the beautiful noise she sees the guy from the coffee shop with an arm slung over his leather jacket clad friend.

His smile is blinding and Julie doesn’t want to look away, no matter how much she knows she should. He says something back to his friend that causes the dark haired male to push the brunette away. The push lands him in Julie’s way as he stumbles into the bench.

On instinct, Julie grasps his arm in order to stop him from hitting the floor. Their eyes meet and Julie’s heart screams, but neither attempt to make a move, or even speak to each other.

The Universe smiles. Finally. Nothing can get in between them now. They’re in front of each other. They’re touching. They have to know. But then.

Flynn’s voice reverberates across the store as she says that nothing spoke to her. Willing herself to stand up, Julie averts her gaze and walks away, not understanding why her chest feels like it will burst open with every step she takes.

The Universe could scream. Just how hard will they have to try to get these two idiots together. They didn’t make a mistake. There is no such thing as soulmates who aren’t meant to be, whether they be platonic or romantic. No, these two are just too dense and oblivious for their own good.

Time for plan C, the Universe decides.

. . .

The club is packed. Sweaty bodies push against her and Julie crinkles her nose. She doesn’t normally frequent clubs, especially places as packed as this one, but Flynn and Carrie dragged her out tonight (as they do every weekend) because apparently this up and coming band is playing tonight and they are sure that she will love them.

Julie doesn’t doubt that she will, there is hardly a genre of music that she doesn’t enjoy, but she much prefers to listen to them from the comfort of her room, or anywhere else that doesn’t require her to interact with drunk people who keep pushing her.

She is not really listening to Flynn and Carrie’s conversation, only nodding whenever it seems appropriate. It isn’t long till the lights dim even more than before and a spotlight lights up the stage. Four guys jog up the steps and the crowd screams joyfully.

They all get ready and as soon as the drummer counts them in, the song starts. The lead singer looks up and Julie stops breathing. He starts singing and her sight goes black. Suddenly, memories that she is sure aren’t hers start flashing before her.

A young boy getting his first guitar.

Him meeting his friends and making a pact with them.

The same boy, older now, writing his first song.

The boy laying on his bed, fingers brushing against the tattoo on his forearm, identical to hers.

Starting a band with his best friends, his brothers.

She sees him fight with his mom, loose a relationship so important to him.

She sees him breakdown as he pedals down the street.

He’s there at the mall, the record store, the ice cream parlor, the bowling alley.

He’s always there. Moments she’s shared with the people in her life, he’s always there. So close but just out of reach.

Then it’s him meeting her eyes at the coffee shop. Their moment at the shoe store.

The pictures start flashing faster now and it’s harder for Julie to make out what they are but what is clear to her is that it’s her, growing old with the brunette. With Luke.

His name is Luke, and he is her soulmate.

And even though she has never heard their music before, she starts singing. The lyrics of the song written by Luke coming naturally to her. It’s the first time she’s sang in over a year and it feels like a breath of fresh air.

Luke suddenly can’t hear anything. His bandmate’s instruments fade out and all he seems to be able to hear is an angel-like voice, coming from somewhere in the crowd.

His eyes search for the source and once he locks eyes with the girl his vision goes black.

He sees a girl, sitting next to her mother on a piano bench as she makes an attempt to play.

Then he sees her again, sitting with another girl on the playground, and as all the other kids are playing, they’re performing a song.

The girl is older now, playing the piano keys in a perfect melody. Her mom is still sitting next to her and she’s smiling down at her.

She’s in the hospital, carrying her little brother for the first time.

The girl is sitting on the piano again, this time alone and there are tears streaming down her face.

He sees her loose her mom and therefore her music. He sees her not even hum for over a year.

Then he sees himself, walking past her, not noticing her. She’s everywhere. That time at the beach with Reggie, she was there, playing with her family.

His walks down sunset boulevard with her only a few feet away. How could he not notice her? How could he possibly miss her when she shines brighter than anything in the world?

But he notices her now, and he will keep noticing her in the future, as images of her growing old with him and making music together flash before him.

He comes back to reality to see her still looking at him, singing, and he realizes that he missed his cue, but he doesn’t care, because nothing matters more than the beautiful girl, Julie, who has taken his breath away.

Julie, his soulmate.

His tattoo stings and he winces, finally breaking eye contact with Julie to look down. The music notes are glowing and when he looks back up he notices Julie’s are too.

The music continues and he wonders if everyone is witnessing the moment or if only him and Julie can see. His next verse is coming up and he knows he can’t miss another one so he leans forward to his mic and starts singing, not taking his eyes off of Julie.

She stares right back, singing the lyrics loudly and passionately. The show continues much the same and if he were to ask anyone, they would say it is the damn best he has ever played. Once it’s over he runs off stage and out the back door, planning to make his way to the front of the bar. He runs down the alleyway and crashes hard into another body.

Lifting his arms to steady the person, his heart stops. She’s there, standing in front of him, looking up through her lashes and he does the most drastic and impulsive thing he has ever done.

He kisses her. He kisses her because he is so sure that he would die on the spot if he didn’t. And Julie kisses him back.

Luke cups the back of her neck as she tangles her fingers in his hair. After a couple of seconds, or maybe years, they pull away.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Julie responds.

“I’m Luke,” his voice is much too breathy, and he is still attempting to get his lungs to work properly.

“Julie,” she doesn’t sound much better.

They both smile and then burst out laughing.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” Luke admits once he has calmed down.

Julie shakes her head. “I would say that we should get to know each other but I just saw your whole life played out, which by the way I have never heard of it happening.”

Luke’s smile widens. “Well I have also never heard of soulmates meeting and not realizing they are soulmates so I think we’re just special.”

“Yeah,” Julie says resting her head against his chest and listening to the beat of his heart matching hers. “I think we’re special too.”

The Universe leans back, smiling down at the pair. They were a hard one, possibly the hardest they’ve ever had to do. But as they study them, already falling in love with each other without having to even say much, they know that it was worth it. The Universe wasn’t ready for Julie Molina and Luke Patterson, but they are now and the whole world better get ready.

#julie molina #luke patterson #Julie and Luke #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #julie x luke #luke x julie #juke #jukebox #jukebox fic #jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #luke patterson x reader

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writer-room · 3 years

Text

Siblings: Chapter Four

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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Tim didn’t know how to feel about being an only child.

He didn’t think about it all that often, there weren’t many kids he talked to at school who mentioned their siblings all that frequently. And, in some parts, he didn’t mind it so much.

The kids who did talk about siblings complained, whether their siblings were older or younger. There were those who said their sibling took up more of their parents attention, which was something Tim was already lacking in. Some said that they never had any time to themselves, something that Tim had an overabundance in, but still cherished. Others said that the accomplishments, and failures, of their siblings reflected onto them, making their parents expect more or less of them. Tim couldn’t afford that either. His parents already didn’t think much of him, he didn’t need it to be any less. And if they wanted more, he worried he wouldn’t be able to meet their expectations.

And yet��

Sometimes he liked the idea of someone else in that empty mansion. Someone to talk to when the rooms felt too large, when the loneliness was suffocating him. He liked the thought of sharing his recent theories, photos, and the like with someone. Wondered if he could go on for as long as he wanted without being interrupted.

Maybe they’d be someone who didn’t call him by a name that wasn’t his, then feign forgetting. Who didn’t treat his binders like they were assaulting their eyes. Who didn’t scrutinize his every movement for faking.

That’d be nice, he thinks.

But there were pros and cons, he reasons. And for all he knows, if he had a sibling, they could’ve been just like his parents. Or they could’ve been kinder. Not like he’d ever know.

He had more important things to worry about than hypotheticals and wishes.

“Before you scold me, know that I took a five hour nap earlier today and I’m only getting a snack.”

Steph and Duke blinked at him from the doorway to the kitchen, their expressions a sharp contrast between exasperated and concerned, respectively.

“Wow, five hours?” Steph snarked. “That’s a new record. Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Tim said, opening the fridge. “Give it a few weeks and I’m sure you’ll see rumors of my tragic defeat at the hands of, I dunno, Flamingo.”

“There’s a supervillain named Flamingo?” Duke exclaimed, staring at Steph incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a whole thing.” She nodded. “He had a scuffle with Jay and his kid a while back.”

“Jason has a kid?”

“Why are you up, anyway?” Tim talked right over him. “Duke I understand, he’s the disgraced child of the sun. But you patrol at the same time as every other nocturnal person in this house.”

“Hey-”

“I actually had to pretend to have a normal sleep schedule, my mom was getting worried and I didn’t want her finding me sneaking in with my full Spoiler getup on.” Steph explained tiredly. “I’m still trying to recover.”

“Tragic,” Tim hummed, pulling out a container holding a ham sandwich.

“The only thing that's tragic is your outfit.” Steph snorted, looking him up and down.

Tim blinked, looking down at himself. His outfit consisted of a pair of knockoff Batman shorts, knee-high pastel dinosaur socks, and a long red robe that absolutely did not belong to him hanging loosely off him, exposing countless scars littering his body.

“I look awesome,” Tim said, popping the lid off the container.

“Damian’s gonna start asking what battles you got your scars from again,” Steph tutted, striding further into the kitchen with a confused Duke following her. “Know that I will not be on your side when Dick notices and gets worried.”

“I’m more worried about Dami seeing this one,” He said, brushing the robe back slightly to reveal a poorly stitched surgical scar on his upper abdomen. “Because then he’s going to ask what happened, and then I’m gonna have to tell him that's where my spleen used to be, and then he's going to be reminded that oh, yeah, his brother has a missing spleen, and then he’s going to be treating everything like its diseased-”

“Does...he keep forgetting you lost your spleen?” Duke blinked, concerned. “I feel like that’d be something you were kinda always aware of…”

“Eh, everyone's worried about a different scar whenever they see ‘em.” He shrugged, glancing down as he traced over one of the surgery scars along his chest. “Which is frankly a little rude. I earned this right to be shirt free.”

“Hell yeah you did,” Steph grinned before her eyes dropped to the sandwich Tim was attempting to eat. “Isn’t that Cullen’s?”

“He didn’t label it, therefore it’s mine.” Tim said simply.

“Harper’s gonna kill you,” Duke warned warily.

“Only if she catches me,” He said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Why’re you guys here, anyway? Grabbing a snack?”

“Lookin’ for Babs,” Steph said, hands in her pockets. “Someone on Twitter started a war about which Batgirl was better, and Babs will probably get a kick out of being remembered as the ‘missing Batgirl.’”

“Oh she’ll be pissed about being remembered that way.” Tim agreed, shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. “Babs will see it in five minutes or less, though. Swear she has a sixth sense for whenever someone mildly associated with the Bats is mentioned.” He mumbled.

“You wanna hijack the thread before she finds it?” He suggested.

“Hijack it?” Duke echoed.

“We’re gonna yell about random stuff that doesn’t contribute to the conversation until all hell breaks loose.” Steph explained, already pulling out her phone. “Tim?”

“How do you feel about discussing why the sun lightens hair, but darkens skin?” Tim suggested, leaving the container on the counter as he brushed by Steph.

“You just want to piss off someone from Metropolis.”

“It’s law as a Bat that I have to torment Superman whenever I possibly can.” Tim shrugged.

“Does that include me?” Duke blinked. “Because I personally think tormenting Superman is a bad idea.”

“Clark wouldn’t hurt a fly,”

“Yeah, but he’ll give me the face of disappointment and I don’t think I can live with that.” Duke protested.

“He can barely even manage--where are you going?” Steph looked up, only now realizing Tim was leaving the kitchen.

“I’m starting the mayhem on the big screens.” Tim grinned, looking back over his shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me he’s going to use Twitter on the bat computer,” Duke sighed.

“He’s totally going to use the bat computer,” Steph smiled, following after him. “C’mon! It’s initiation time.”

“Do you guys just call every weird thing you do initiation?” Duke called, hurrying behind them. “Because I’ve been told I’m part of an initiation five times in the last week.”

“You’re stuck in initiation until this becomes the norm,” Steph said cheerfully.

“Of course,” Duke muttered.

Tim’s robe billowed behind him like an amateur cape as he wandered towards the door leading towards the steps into the Batcave. He threw open the door, the sound of it slamming echoing and startling the bats on the ceiling.

“Jesus!”

Harper jumped from the swivel chair in front of the computer, wide-eyed as she blinked up at the trio at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Harps,” Steph greeted, hopping onto the stairs railing and sliding down. “We’re here to cause problems on Twitter.”

“Oh, well, in that case, by all means.” Harper snarked, getting up and grandly gesturing to the countless screens. “Not like I was using it for actual work.”

“Were you using it?” Tim asked, pointedly glaring at Steph to keep his recent adventure to the kitchen quiet.

“...looking for tasers to modify count as work, right?” She said after a moment.

“Technically,” Tim nodded, ignoring Steph’s smug look that absolutely signified she was going to blackmail him later. “But you can just use Dick’s old escrima sticks. He goes through a pair every two or three weeks, but most still work pretty well, he’s just too lazy to fix them.”

“Sweet,” Harper grinned. She then paused, taking in Tim’s appearance as he slid into the seat she was previously occupying.

“Why do you look like you’re auditioning to be the pretty girl who dies in a low-budget slasher?”

“First of all, how dare you assume I wouldn’t be the first one to die for representation points,” Tim said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Second of all, it’s called having fashion, and also being allowed to do whatever I want.”

“You have terrible fashion sense,” Harper snorted, crossing her arms as Steph and Duke came up beside her. “But fair, I can respect that.”

“See?” Tim said, looking at Steph. “Some people can afford to not be rude.”

“Keep talking and I’ll lose more blackmail material,” Steph calmly threatened.

Harper glanced between the two, to which Tim quietly, and quickly, turned back to the screen and ignored the both of them. Harper raised a brow but didn’t comment. Tim made a mental note to sneak into one of Jason’s unused safe houses after this was over. Steph couldn’t keep quiet for the life of her.

“What are you starting, anyway?” Harper asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the back of Tim’s chair. “A sob story about the Opportunity rover?”

“Another day,” Tim promised, opening up Twitter on the countless screens. He opened another one on the other half of the computer, which Steph quickly stood at and got her own Twitter set up. “Right now, we’re questioning how the sun makes hair lighter, but skin darker. And we’re dragging Clark into it.”

“If anyone asks, I had no part in this.” Duke said, watching the two typing with a frown. “Initiation doesn't include learning how to taunt Superman, right?”

“Eh, we can settle for you becoming close with a Kryptonian,” Steph shrugged. “Dick and Bruce share Clark, Jay’s got Bizarro, Cass and I got Kara, Babs I think counts with her, too, Damian’s got Jon, and Tim has Kon.” She listed off. “Harper and Cullen took the ‘bully Superman’ route without befriending any of his family, which is a coward's way out, so you can take, I dunno, does Chris still exist in this timeline?”

“I can call in a favor from Bart to reset the timeline again so he exists.” Tim said with a casual shrug, pulling up the thread arguing about the Batgirls.

“I’m sorry, what--”

“Finding Kryptonians who aren’t already taken is hard!” Harper protested, talking over Duke. “And Clark likes you guys being friends with his family. The only issue he has is Damian getting testy and Tim making heart eyes at Kon every five minutes.”

“I do not!” Tim squawked, whirling around in the chair to glare at the traitors he dared call family. In his head. Family in his head.

“You do,” Steph and Harper chorused.

“I’ve met Kon for less than twenty minutes and even I know.” Harper added. “I’m sure Duke knew.”

“I...yeah…” Duke coughed into his fist and turned away. “But in my defense, the gossip around here is practically shouted down the halls twice a week.”

“You were subjected to Dick having another crisis about Jay dating Kory for two months, weren’t you?” Steph said, trying to hide a snicker.

“There were so many things I didn’t want to know,” Duke whispered, face horror-stricken.

“Eh, at least Jay hasn’t brought up Talia around Dami yet.” Tim shrugged. “At that point, it’s better to just vacate the premises.”

“Wait--”

“Point is, you either befriend the Kryptonian or you torment them. That’s the rules.” Tim talked over him again, scrolling down the thread and boredly looking over the arguments. “You ready, Steph?”

“As I’ll ever be,” She grinned, giving a thumbs up. “How long till Babs notices and takes this whole thing down?”

“Few more minutes, tops.” Tim shrugged, already typing. “You two wanna give any input?” He asked, glancing behind him to Harper and Duke.

“Ask if Kryptonian skin can be used as extreme sunscreen,” Harper suggested. “That’ll rile him up.”

“Now I’m just curious if it can,” Tim said, but obediently began making his comment.

“You could just...ask?” Duke tried, clearly not taking in any of what was happening.

“Nah, Kon’s half human, I don’t think it works the exact same.” Tim shook his head, not looking back. “Kara would destroy me if I tried, Bizarro has the same problem, Jon wouldn’t know, and Clark would start telling Bruce he’s worried I’m deranged again.”

“Aren’t you?” Duke raised a brow.

“Only if I feel like it,”

“And when he forgets to sleep for ninety-eight hours.” Steph spoke up.

Tim rolled his eyes, tuning out his siblings as they continued to talk. He posted his comment before sparing a peek back at them, currently throwing off ideas to their hijacking plan like it was an everyday occurrence. Well, to Steph and Harper at least. But, to Duke’s credit, he appeared to be getting more used to it on prodding from his...sisters? Hard to tell, Steph was her own classification of family member. They were some weird choices for family, at least.

Tim watched them for a moment before turning back to making another comment on the logistics of sunscreen, a smile on his face.

He couldn’t find it in him to complain. Too much, at least.

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Sutures - Chapter Seven: Knotted

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): eavesdropping, angst, Yoongi kinda being a dick but not too bad lol

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

The warm water ran down your skin and onto the tiled floor of the shower. It was odd having a shower where you could stretch your arms out wide in, you were used to small showers that barely allowed you to shave your legs without hitting your head. But, the shower at the dorm was huge and you couldn't help, but stay in for much longer than was needed, allowing the water to massage your shoulders.

After finding out that all of South Korea (and probably beyond) knew your name and thought you cheated on Minki, you'd curled up on the seat of the car. If you hadn't let Eunji drag you to the bar that night, none of this ever would've happened. You never would've met Yoongi.

Your heart pained when the thought crossed your mind. Never meeting Yoongi. Despite the fact, he seemed to be more trouble than he was worth, there was part of your heart that didn't want to let go of him. And, it was the part you knew you needed to suppress.

You heard a soft knock on the door, barely audible over the sound of the water. You knew it was him before he even spoke, you weren't sure if it was due to the soulmates thing or if your heart truly was betraying you because as soon as you heard his voice, all the stress you held in your chest released.

"Sumi? Is it all right if I come in?"

"Yeah," you said. You weren't overly worried about Yoongi catching sight of your naked body. There was enough steam on the shower doors to disguise you, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before.

"We can do my--uh--date once you get out," he said. "It's nothing much, but I hope it's okay. I brought you some clothes."

"Thanks."

"Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Tea."

"Okay, when you're done just come to my studio. I've left you a note with the code."

---

You finished a few minutes later wrapping your hair up in a towel. You glanced down at the clothes he'd left for you, smiling when recognized them as pajamas with Shooky, his BT21 character on them. You smiled.

You changed and braided your hair so that it would stay out of the way and would be easy to tend to the next morning before the flight to Japan. After washing your face, you reached into the pocket of the pajamas and pulled out the sticky note with the code to Yoongi's studio.

Despite having been in his studio before, it felt odd entering the code yourself. You held your finger gingerly above the keypad and entered each number slowly, scared that if you messed up the code an alarm would go off.

4...6...5...5...9...click!

The lock released and you heaved open the door surprised that it was so heavy. When you walked in, you found blankets on the couch and a laptop perched on the desk a couple feet from the desk. You smiled and sat down on the couch, crossing your legs, and pulling a blanket over yourself.

Despite having been in the studio before, it seemed dirtier than before. Papers were scattered across his desk and a few coffee cups that escaped the trash. Ever since you had come together, it was obvious he wasn't getting as much work done, and that that was frustrating him.

You also noticed the three framed photos near his main computer. One of him and the other members all wearing leis and posing in what you assumed as a Hawaiian airport. The other was of you presumed his family; his parents and what looked like an older brother. Yoongi was still a teenager in the picture and you couldn't help, but smile at how awkwardly adorable he looked with hair that stuck up and a face that wasn't quite adult yet. The third photo was that of a brown poodle puppy.

You glanced down at the desk and noticed a photo peeking out from underneath a handful of papers. You pushed it aside and gasped when you saw that it was actually a print off of an email with a photo attachment. A photo of you and Yoongi from the alleyway. His arms around you and his mask down beneath his chin. From the angle, it looked as if he were kissing your forehead and you sighed, knowing Yoongi would probably not do such a thing in public, even if your relationship was completely real and straightforward.

You noticed the email address came from the presumed photographer and your chest tied in knots as you hoped that meant Yoongi was trying to prevent the photo from being released. You heard the code being punched in and quickly shuffled the email back under papers and picked up the picture of Yoongi and his family and pretended to study it intensely.

"Hey," he said, holding two mugs, making you curious as to how he opened the door in the first place. His eyes widened slightly when he saw you holding the framed photo.

"Sorry," you said, placing the photo back on his desk. "Your family looks nice."

Yoongi smiled. "They really want to meet you," he said. He handed you the hot mug of tea. "I didn't want to pressure you, especially since we're trying to sever this."

"My parents have been the same," you said. "They're so happy about this whole soulmate thing. They didn't even care that you were an idol."

"My parents were happy you were normal."

You laughed. "Are we watching a movie?"

"Yeah," Yoongi said. "I have a couple things to finish up first if you don't mind. You can pick something while you wait, it should only be a few minutes."

You nodded and started scrolling through Netflix on his laptop. You scrolled through the various offerings, unsure of Yoongi's preferences. Would it be inappropriate to watch something romance heavy? Would it make him uncomfortable?

Yoongi seemed like the type of guy to like a classic gangster movie, but that wasn't something you were into. Although, you were fairly certain neither of you were huge fans of horror.

You eventually settled on a movie somewhere in the middle with a smattering of everything. A little action and a little romance, but not so unbearably cheesy that you wouldn't enjoy it.

When you glanced up at Yoongi, he was seated at his desktop with headphones perched atop his gray hair. His head bounced slowly to a beat you couldn't hear and you could see bits of sounds and recordings that he was arranging on his screen.

You took a sip of your tea and waited.

---

"Thanks for meeting up with me on such short notice," you said, adjusting the laptop screen so that there wasn't a glare on your face. "My schedule changed and I'm going to be out of the city for the next week."

"It's not a problem," Jinwoo said, smiling, a pen in his hand and just the corner of his notebook visible. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you going?"

"Japan," you said, not thinking much of your answer.

"Oh wait," Jinwoo said. "Jang Sumi? I think I saw you on a magazine cover? With Min Yoongi?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," you said. "That's me."

"So, you're his soulmate? How does that work?"

"I don't really want to talk about this right now," you said. "Unless you can do it in English." You tried to lighten the mood, tried to make it sound like the fact your client knew what was happening in your personal life didn't make a rock sink low in your stomach.

Jinwoo laughed. "It's okay, I understand. I imagine it's hard having to uproot your life just because of your biological soulmate or whatever."

You smiled, his flippant tone catching you off guard. "It would really help if he wasn't so busy. I can't blame the guy, he has a fantastic career, but it's hard on me."

"You're still wearing his pajamas though."

"What?"

"Shooky," he said. "Suga created that character."

"Oh," you said. "He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something."

"Or, he likes you more than he lets on."

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Your lips tightened when you finished the sentence. You'd only talked to Jinwoo once before and your heart pounded as you realized what you'd just said. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to."

"It's all right," he said. "I like to think we're friends, so it's okay."

---

Yoongi realized you were gone after almost two hours. He took off his headphones and glanced down at his watch and cursed.

If it weren't for the crumpled blankets on the couch, he'd never know you'd ever been there. He knew he'd let you down, it was a simple movie, two hours at the most. He couldn't even spare two hours for you?

He exited his studio and headed down the hallway towards your room. He could hear your laugh, which made him smile. Thankful the hallway was abandoned, lest his smile due to your presence be discovered, he pressed his shoulder against your door frame. Your door was cracked and he could see you seated at your desk. He raised his hand to knock lightly on your door when he caught a look at your computer screen.

It was another boy. He was young and Yoongi didn't like the way his eyes seemed to devour you, even through the screen.

"He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something." You looked down at the pajamas you had on and ran your thumb over the collar.

He couldn't hear the boy's response, but your eyes widened and your shoulders tensed.

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Yoongi balled his fists. You were being reckless. It was obvious that you were uncomfortable with all the media attention, but you were doing nothing to help yourself. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to."

Yoongi left your doorway and rambled back down the hallway.

---

"Hey Jiminie, can you pass me the other end?"

Jimin sat on the opposite of the couch in the living room. He was in the middle of slurping up noodles, but quickly put down his bowl and chopsticks to hand you the end of the scarf.

"Jiminie? I'm older than you, right?"

"Oh, I guess you are," you said. "But, you're so cute, it's easy to forget. You don't mind, do you?" A smirk broke out on your lips.

"No, I like it actually."

Jimin had just picked up his bowl of ramen when Yoongi came into the room. You could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

"Sumi," he said. "We need to talk?"

You looked up at him, your eyes large and confused. "About what?"

Jimin had taken an interest, obviously noticing the older boy's anger. He sat down his ramen and scooted closer to you. "Yoongi, what's wrong?"

Jimin's question only annoyed him more. His body stiffened and his eyes looked nearly black.

"What's wrong? She's so worried about her image and all the publicity, but yet is telling one of her clients all about us."

"Were you spying on me?"

"I came looking for you after--"

You looked up at him, your arms crossed. "I never would've left if--"

"That's not the point!" Yoongi's voice raised slightly. Although, he wasn't yelling. He didn't seem like to yell when he got angry, rather he sizzled in the heat until he popped like a popcorn kernel. "You can't just tell someone like him! You have no idea who this guy is! What if he goes to the press? We'd have another Minki on our hands! Are you stupid?"

Tears pricked at your vision and you felt Jimin's hand on your wrist, but it left as soon as you moved to rub your eyes.

"Yoongi, calm down. She's not used to all this. She just made a mistake."

"I didn't go on that date to watch you work, Yoongi. I'm sorry if I got frustrated and vented to someone who listened. But, this never would've happened if you would've just watched the movie. We were supposed to get to know each other."

"I guess you know who I am now."

---

"I'm sorry, Sumi," Jimin said, following you into your room and plopping beside you on your bed. "Yoongi sometimes gets like this. I promise he'll get over it in a couple days."

"I really don't want to go to Japan, Jimin. I don't want to be around him." Your face fell into your hands. "But, I have to."

"Shh, Sumi. It'll be okay. Just try to get some sleep. I'll stay with you if you want."

You shook your head. "No," you said. "Thank you though. It just doesn't feel right."

He nodded, seeming to understand and left you alone.

You laid down and pulled the covers to your chin. You hated to turn Jimin away. The last thing you wanted was to be alone, but ever since that night with Yoongi, only his arms made you feel safe.

You silently cursed and pulled Kitty to your chest.

---

Jimin shut your door quietly and shook his head. He hated to see you and Yoongi fight. From the day he met you, he could tell there something odd about your dynamic. The quiet understanding of each other, but yet the fierce opposition.

He passed by Yoongi's studio, the light on. Jimin knew Yoongi would probably spend the rest of the night there, not wanting to step foot in the hallway due to the fear of facing you again.

Jimin smiled as he remembered your ragged stuffed cat. He'd done just as you had asked and placed Kitty in the donation pile. It was only later when making another trek into the living room to place more into boxes that he noticed Yoongi slipping the stuffed cat into his bag.

He hadn't said anything then, but the morning you asked him if he was the one who'd saved the hapless creature, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the true savior who hid his smile behind sips of morning coffee.

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rosesgonerogue · 4 years

Text

How to be a Dad 101

Chapter Four - Villain AU

Jasonette July Day Five

Masterlist

“Marinette, Alya is here!” Sabine called up the stairs.

“Thanks Maman, I’ll see you later!” Marinette called back, launching herself down. Sure enough, her best friend was waiting for her at the bakery’s front door. “Nino isn’t with you?”

“He’s helping Chris get all of the kids settled, the sucker,” Alya said, though Marinette couldn’t tell which Lahiffe boy was being called the sucker.

“Are we sure that Chris can handle all the kids at once?” Marinette asked, admittedly nervous.

“No,” Alya said matter-of-factly. “But Nora is going to drop in on then to make sure everything is okay.”

“But are you sure? I just feel bad, you know Jules has been biting. Maybe I should—”

“If you were going to finish that sentence with ‘stay with the kids,’ I will strangle you, Marinette. I love you girl, but it has been three months since I’ve gone somewhere and not taken a diaper bag with me, and I know it’s been way longer than that for you. Give me tonight.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Alya,” Marinette said, holding up her hands. “I will leave things in Chris’s questionable hands.”

Alya softened a bit. “Look, I get it. Next time we’ll try to plan for a day when Manon is available, she’s really good with the kids.

“Deal. So have we heard if everyone is going to make it tonight?”

“Almost everyone. Adrien and Kagami might be a little late? Rose has a fundraiser she has to be at tonight, but other than that I think we’re a go.”

“Wow, it’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this,” Marinette said. “It’ll almost feel like old times.”

“It sounds like Max is finally letting us meet his wife. I think Kim has a running bet on whether or not she’s a robot.”

“Kim is still on that? He’s probably just jealous that Max beat him to getting married even though he hasn’t known Camille very long.”

“Hold up girl, you know Max’s wife’s name?” Alya demanded. “Spill.”

“It was nothing much, I only know her because I made her wedding dress,” Marinette said, pausing at the sidewalk corner. “Do we go left or right?”

“Right. But how did you not tell me this?” Alya demanded.

“Even though we’re school friends, I still have to maintain a certain level of professionality. I can’t go tell Paris’s most promising reporter about one of the world’s most promising computer programmers personal life. Besides, Max really wanted to surprise everyone,” Marinette said, smirking. “The dress was one of my finest creations yet.”

“Fine, I suppose I can’t compromise one of the world’s most promising young designers,” Alya huffed. “But she has good taste? This gets more mysterious by the moment.”

“So who picked the place this time? I know we’re trusting Chris with the kids, but you know how Kim gets when we go to his bar, and I don’t know if I trust Chris to watch them all night because we got a little tipsy or something.”

“Well, it is at Kim’s bar, but don’t worry, he’ll be too distracted by Max, so we won’t even be tempted by all of the free alcohol. Besides, you always seem like such a pro at resisting temptation.”

Getting to Kim’s bar didn’t take long, even on foot. Once there, a good portion of their high school class yelled greetings from the back of the bar.

“Alya, Marinette! Good to see you, but where’s Nino?” Kim asked, opening the door for them.

“He’s helping Chris get the kids situated, he’ll be here soon,” Alya said, hugging the muscular man. “Is Max here yet? I hear we get to meet the wife.”

“Yeah, she’s way out of his league,” Kim said, jabbing a thumb towards the corner of the bar.

As much as Marinette had complained, she couldn’t help but smile upon coming into the bar. Kim had fallen into the role of bartender easily, amusing his patrons with tales of akumas and the Miraculous team – although tales of King Monkey were definitely the most popular. It was a clean, warm space, decorated with murals and framed newspaper clippings about any akuma incidents involving their class.

“You must’ve been desperate if Chris is babysitting,” Adrien said, sidling up next to her. “Manon was busy?”

“She had a study group,” Marinette said, bumping his shoulder with hers. While she considered Alya her best friend, Adrien still was, and always would be her partner, the black cat to her ladybug. He knew her mind in ways that no one else ever could. “You caught me. So what do you think of Max’s wife? I think she’s absolutely adorable.”

“Marinette, you knew about Max’s wedding?” someone yelled, positively betrayed.

“I think it’s time for s to join the others, but for the record I completely agree with you.” Adrien offered her an arm to escort her to the rest of the group. “By the way, Kagami says hello.”

“How is pregnancy treating your lovely wife?”

“Oh, the normal. The cravings, the irrational anger, average pregnancy-type things. The last time I mentioned you she nearly skewered me with a fire poker and told me that if I spoke about any other woman that way she would kill me where I stood. After that she cried for a few minutes because she missed you.”

“It sounds like I need to pay her a visit,” Marinette said brightly.

“So we’re just ignoring the part where my life was in danger, typical. I should have known that you would side with her,” Adrien pouted.

“You can complain to me when you’ve been pregnant,” Marinette said, patting his cheek.

“I’d like to think I’m a fairly decent husband, so I would say I’m allowed to be a little offended by threats of homicide.”

“No, that’s just pregnancy,” Nino said, his version of a grand entrance. “The more violent they are means you’re taking good care of them.”

By this point they’d gotten to the larger group, and Max’s wife, Camille, a sweet, auburn-haired woman, brightened. “Marinette, it’s lovely to see you again!”

“Wait, you really did know about this too, Marinette?!” Kim demanded.

“Client confidentiality, Kim,” Marinette said with a wicked smile. “Rose can’t make it, so everyone is officially here, Camille.”

“Oh, perfect,” she said, clapping her hands. “Max and I have an announcement to make!”

“Don’t tell me you’re already having a kid!” Alix groaned. “All of you are making it even more sucky to be single right now.”

“We came to invite you to our wedding,” Max said, pushing up his glasses.

“Excuse me, what?” Chloe asked.

“What we did before was just a little ceremony in England for Camille’s parents. Did you guys really think I could get married without all of you?”

There were a few beats of silence before chaos erupted. Kim had Max in a headlock while at least three of the girls were asking Camille about wedding plans. Nearby Alix was still sulking about being single.

When everyone settled down, Mylene said, “We’re getting old, aren’t we?”

“I’m going to die alone,” Alix lamented.

“We’re still in our twenties,” Marinette reminded her. “We’ve got time.”

“But if you’re still single how do any of the rest of us stand a chance?” she demanded.

“Oh yeah. Sometimes I forget that Marinette is still single because of the whole…” he waved his hand, indicating things he couldn’t put words to, “… situation.”

“Exactly!” Alix spat. “She’s perfect, she makes a perfect mother, and she’s handling everything better alone than any of us can with a significant other! I’m doomed!”

“But Marinette is still looking, just like you, Alix,” Mylene pointed out. “She just did things a little out of order.”

“And I’m not perfect, I promise you,” Marinette said with the weariness that could only be a product of parenthood.

“Is Jules still in a biting phase?” Sabrina asked.

“Unfortunately yes,” Alya said with that same weariness.

“Since we’re on the topic, what was the baby daddy even like?” Kim asked. “We haven’t heard much about him, and from what little I’ve heard, I can’t help but picture him as one of those old cartoon villains twirling his mustache and preying on young girls.”

“Villain works. Although I would have called him a lying, scheming—” Adrien cut off, glancing at the young parents he was situated between, Marinette in particular was known for body-checking people if they used any sort of questionable language regardless of if there was a child present, “-scheming meanie pants,” he finished lamely.

“It’s okay, Adrien, this is a safe zone,” Alya said, patting his shoulder. “You can tell them that Jason is a bastard.”

Nathaniel inhaled sharply, choking on his drink. “Wow… I just… What would you say about him, Marinette?”

“I wouldn’t call him that,” Marinette said, ignoring Alya and Adrien’s protests. “Really, I had no misconceptions about the way things were. We never gave each other our numbers, or even our last names. Something bigger than both of us brought us together, and I don’t regret it. If I’m lucky, maybe it will bring us together once more.”

The class fell silent until Alix groaned once more, burying her head in her arms. “I’M GOING TO DIE ALONE!”

Taglist:

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo

Note:

I thought this chapter would barely meet the word limit I’ve set for myself, but that was not a problem. If you want to be tagged, or if I forgot to tag you, just leave a comment below. Also just leave a comment below regardless, I’ve been helping my family move all week and I need something to keep me sane. In all reality, though, I write like this mainly to improve my skills as well as get feedback on them, so I appreciate any comment you send my way.

This story is also really different from what I normally write. Despite the premise, it’s WAY more slice of life than I’ve ever done long-term like this, so I especially want to hear your reactions on this!

#jasonette july 2k20 #jasonette #maribat #jason x marinette #mominette

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prorevenge · 4 years

Text

Fire me for doing my job? Pay up.

TL/DR at bottom.

A couple of years ago, I was hired as a Technical Account Manager for an enterprise software company. My job was a combination of project management, technical support, and customer relations management. When I started, it seemed like a decent job, for the most part, though the software, seemed immature. The software's purpose was to audit customer systems, searching for certain data, to be able to report on compliance. It was a very new company, founded by some guys who been successful at starting companies before, there was stock, it seemed on the up and up.

I had a couple very large customers, and we were having performance problems with two of the searches. I filed bugs, and worked on managing the processes to get to resolution. During this time, my management starting getting distant. We were signing lots of contracts, so I just put it off as them being busy.

They issued a release to fix the performance problem. I installed it, and we reran the job. I'm monitoring the logs, and the performance problem still exists. The job is hanging when the system tries to query this one table, which has literally billions of rows. Our logs do not display the actual query being run, to avoid exposing information about database security. But the customer guys I worked with were DBAs, and they could see the query on their side. They showed it to me. The query was using a WHERE clause that was of the form, SELECT this, that, theother FROM table WHERE CAST(column) AS VARCHAR = searchvalue.

Now, any competent developer who was evaluating a performance problem would instantly see that it would have been efficient to cast "searchvalue" to the column type, which would have executed the CAST once, as opposed to doing it on the column value, which would be done as many times as there are rows in the table. The CAST was being executed billions of times. This meant multiple things:

the developer doing this was careless and/or unskilled

nobody with 1st year computer science skilled had reviewed the 'fix'

they hadn't actually verified improved performance before shipping the fix

I summarized this in email to my manager and our boss, asking that they raise a stink about this. We bragged about our excellent development team, and this wasn't up to our standards. Silence. Like, literally no reply.

We are still selling contracts left and right, and the company meetings are all about how our valuation is soaring. I am being told to tell the customer that we are working on this and other improvements. During this time, our preliminary runs are at the customer are not returning the results we should be seeing. After the above experience, I check out the source code and start digging in. I realize that there is a fundamental logical flaw in our search approach, and that for certain systems, the software simply cannot work as designed, without significant additional development. I can't go into what that was without violating an agreement that will be discussed shortly. I bring this up in an email, and again, silence. The customer is getting frustrated and angry meetings are being had. I bring these up with management, and again, silence.

Along the way, I invent a way to use our software, that, with a small bit of additional functionality, creates the ability for a customer to use our system at a customer's vendor companies to expedite the audit. This turns every customer into a salesman for us, as it causes them to demand that their vendors buy and use our software. Huge win.

The next week, I get a call from the senior manager. I am told to leave the customer site, and go home. I can see the handwriting on the wall. I find out from co-workers that he has told the customer that the reason for the lack of results is my poor skills, and that they will replace me. Internally, they are telling my coworkers that they were tired of my toxic attitude.

During this time, two other employees have been removed from projects due to customer complaints about the project. They are redeployed to other accounts, I am not.

A week later, they fire me. No reason given, no severance. They, however, don't fire the other two guys. Big mistake. I'm over 50, they are 30 somethings. This is the US, where being over 50 is a protected class for discrimination law.

I realize that what is going on. They are pumping the value of the company, getting the contract volume growing, so that they can flip the company to a corporate buyer and make some quick big money. The talk of going public was always bullshit.

I contact a lawyer. We write a demand letter. We explain the disparate treatment due to age, and note that:

the state I am in doesn't allow mandatory arbitration in employment contracts, so they can't force private arbitration, and we will be able to pursue court action

they have no record of any job performance issues or lack of technical skill, given that I found the bug, explained the fix, and added significant capability to the product supporting substantial new sales. I had great relations with the customers, and we would call them to say so.

while we might or might not prevail, the technical issues and poor engineering practices that I found would become a matter of court record, becoming visible to anyone doing due diligence on the company, crushing their valuation in their pump and dump scheme, and that this would be visible to new and existing customers.

I had a check for six months pay in my hand a week later. I had also been interviewing, and landed a great new job with a product that actually works (completely different functional area) that same week. The agreement that we signed prohibits me saying anything public about them, and them from saying anything about me, so no further details. And they neglected to collect my Macbook, so free computer, as the agreement says that no further claims can be made by either party.

TL/DR; they tried to throw me under the bus to further a get rich quick scheme, and I got a better job, and six months pay for them trying to fuck me over.

[edit] corrected SQL

(source) story by (/u/UnkleRinkus)

#prorevenge #by /u/UnkleRinkus #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Hidden Gems

James Bond x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: death

Author’s Note: Hi love! Sorry this took so long but I ended up liking it. All it took was some good old fashion angst to make me back in the groove. I hope you like (?) this!

Italics are flashbacks

Requested: by @bbhimbf, hi!!~ I just found your blog and I wanna ask – can you write some angst with Bond x reader?? Like, I want to read something that makes me cry and I really like your style of writing so 👉🏻👈🏻

Summary: the request!

Genre: angst

Song: the way I loved you by selena gomez

I don’t own these characters.

(not my gif)

Meeting James Bond was as everyone expected it to be. He was cold but handsome, witty and skilled. There was nothing that should have surprised you about it but you remember meeting him like it was only yesterday when in truth it had been more like three years.

Your bookshop was small. You didn’t own it or even work at it but you spent enough time there that you were pretty sure when the owners did die they were going to pass it on to you.

James was only out because he was so used to being out. Now that he was on a weird probation period he had to get out and do something. He didn’t usually sight see when he traveled but here he was, in a small looking dusty book store that he had barely even seen before. The dust made the air heavy. It was quite a gloomy day outside, the clouds hanging over the outside buildings making people feel worse than they should.

You were standing near the front, flipping through a book between two close shelves. It was pretty cramped in there and he almost ran into you because he wasn’t paying attention.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” you said, laughing a little bit as you did so. You looked up at his eyes and was nearly knocked down at the sight of them. You had always had a thing for those types of blue eyes. He shook his head.

“No worries, it was my fault. I’ve never been in here before,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure why he had said that but it was already past his lips when he thought about it. You raised your eyebrow.

“It’s a hidden gem. I’m glad you decided to come in.”

He looked at you, holding your book with an air around you that seemed lighter than anything he had seen in quite some time.

“Me too.”

You gave him your number that day and he took it without hesitation which wasn’t really a surprise. You read him as a ladies man and there wasn’t much that you wanted to be done about that so you just let whatever was gonna happen happen.

Your fingers brushed the ring that was around your finger as you looked up at the building. It was glistening in the little sun that managed to peek through the majority of the gloomy clouds. You had heard so much about it, you thought that it would be more than it was.

Just a building.

You and James had been going out for a little over a year now. He had even proposed naively and you accepted just as naively. There wasn’t even a date set because of his work but you knew that it would happen. You wanted it to happen.

You knew most of what he did because he had told you. He trusted you.

You thought he trusted you.

“It’s just another job. You don’t have to worry,” he promised. You were sitting, your legs crossed in front of you, on the bed. He was standing by the dresser, loading a gun and turned away from you.

“I have a bad feeling about it,” you muttered. James turned around just enough to see you and then fully so that he could walk over to where you sat. You looked up at him and he put his hands on your cheeks, a rare smile on his face.

“Do you know who I am?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t do it-”

“Bond.”

“James-”

“James Bond.” You laughed and had to admit he had made you feel a little better but he hadn’t ceased the feeling. You weren’t sure about wherever he was going. You never were but especially now.

“You’ll be safe yeah?” “Of course.” He sat down beside you and you put your head on his chest. He put his head on yours and leaned down to kiss your forehead. You hummed and smiled, moving up to kiss him.

You smiled against the kiss and he did as well, leaning you back slowly on to the bed.

You had gotten a call that morning about James. It wasn’t from James which was red flag number one.

You shook out your hair and took a step forward into the large building the phone call had directed you to go to. You walked to the front desk, your hands nervously playing with each other. She looked up at you and her face fell.

“Bonds girl?” You nodded, trying to keep your face neutral and lacking the worry you were feeling.

“Yes.” Your voice was weaker than you had intended it to be.

“Have a seat, someone will be with you in a moment.”

The look she gave you was obviously reeking of pity. You had wished it would just be dismissive.

You sat done in one of the empty chairs and thought about what James had told you about his job. You just wanted him to be alright. That was all you were allowed to think right then. He was going to come out to surprise you.

Unfortunately when someone came out of the stuffy back rooms it wasn’t James. You perked up but immediately fell back down emotionally.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“You should come with me.” You nodded and followed you down the hallway. It seemed to last forever. Finally you came to one of the last rooms and wondered if you should have just stayed at home.

“We normally don’t do this but James wanted us to make an exception.” She gestured to the chair and desk in the small lonely room. There was a laptop open there that showed a black screen.

“What is this?” you asked but sat down anyway. She clicked one of the keys on the keyboard and then turned to leave. You hated how secretive it was, how they couldn’t just come at and say it.

The screen lit up and James’ face lit up the screen. He was disheveled more than usual, his suit half undone and a loud commotion going on behind the wall he was sitting in front of.

“Hey!”

You laughed a little and messed with your ring some more.

“Hi,” you muttered. It was clearly a pre recorded video but you felt better saying it, like you were having a conversation.

“I should have listened to you, I know.” He gave you a charming side smile. “I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of this one princess.” You looked down at the ground and felt the tears well up in your eyes but tried to ignore them as best as you could. “I just wanted to record this because I wanted to tell you to buy that book store because I know you were undecided about it.” You shook your head and every time you tried to look up at him you couldn’t because then you saw his face. “And that I love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

You looked him in his eyes as he was silent, looking into the camera as though he could see straight into your soul. You put your hand on the side of the computer and smiled meekly at him through the tears.

“And even if you’re watching this and I’m…” he paused, a shot behind him, “I’m gone. I’ll always love you. Because you were my hidden gem Y/N.”

The camera cut off and you put your head in my hands. You heard the door open but didn’t look up.

“You can’t speak of this to anyone. According to record he didn’t exist.”

You let yourself cry for a moment and just feel it. Really feel it.

“My family knew him. What do I say to them?” you asked, sobbing. The lady looked at you for a minute and then moved forward and put her hand on your shoulder.

“You loved each other and he died.”

You supposed she was right.

You did love each other.

And now he was dead.

Daniel Craig: @records-and-stardust

James Bond: @captured-memory

#James bond x reader #James bond imagines

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reeesea · 4 years

Text

Something Sweet: Part Seven

~sweet home~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language

words: 4.7k

summary: Home is where your bros at right? right.

a/n: I actually like this chapter, shocker. i hope you enjoy

ao3

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

Minho stared at the video file sitting on his computer, on the familiar application site that had been haunting his mind for the past couple years. The debate he found himself in with himself on whether or not to submit another application, had become his default subject of thought for much of the past few weeks. All building up to right now. Something had tipped the scale though. Something that reminded him if he didn't submit an entry this year, that he might as well have given up on his one dream. His one goal. The only thing that had been keeping him motivated through university. So once again he found himself rationalizing, and knew that if anything he had to try, at least just one last time.

Upload complete, Thank you for your entry!

Minho sighed loudly. He had sent it in. The first part of the application. It was just a basic dance routine supplied by the academy. He had practice and recorded it all within one sitting. Having been a part of a dance crew for much of the past year had allowed him to quickly pick up choreography and perfect it. The other reason being that he wanted more than anything to get the overbearing presence of the audition tape out of his head space as soon as possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he laid back down on the studio floor, not too long after a ping of his phone revived just enough for him to check his messages.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

2:50 pm

Minho-hyung!

I hope your day has been going well~

Sadly, no updates on when ill be free :/

They’re working us hard for the debut

It’s alright Ji, work hard!

You better be taking care of yourself tho...

4:03 pm (new)

Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)

{link attached}

I hope you like it!!!!

Oh, no i havent

I’ll give it a listen ^-^

As of late it wasn’t uncommon for Jisung to send the older songs he thought he would like. Always saying some cheesy line that was so blatantly sweet it made Minho flustered everytime. This time of course was no exception.

Ping.

HYUNG THAT EMOJI

Asjdnjsfma

I knew I was rubbin goffon you

Kkkkk

Dont get too ahead of yourself

atleast I can still type coherent sentences

~goffon~

Boo :p

Why Jisung was so persistent about sending him songs was lost on the older, but it was a sweet reminder that someone was thinking about him. It had been a while since Minho had even imagined that someone took a few minutes of their day to actually consider how he was doing. It didn't quite make sense to him that suddenly out of nowhere, there was his boy, man, person, who purposefully took the time to dedicate brain cells to his existence. Wild.

Minho hurriedly clicked the link to the song that Jisung had sent. It was an upbeat song, with a strong but subtle strumming of a guitar to keep the song’s pace just quick enough to be comfortable. “There's no one else that could ever hold me like you do.” The lyrics were in the realm of positive longing and companionship, but the dips into minor chords and tone of the singer created a mood of desperation. More than anything, the song brought forth a story to Minho. One that he could see with his eyes close and feel his body wanting to move to.

A smile stretched across his face, as he rose from his spot on the floor, dusting off the dull ache and pressure in his shoulders from having just finished a routine not even 10 minutes ago.

“But I know that I'd be crazy, Not to wanna be the one to keep you up all night”

Woah there Jisung, at least take me out to dinner first. He made a mental note to tease the younger later about his “Made me think of you :)” line later. Already stretching and drawing a plan in his head, Minho took his phone and saved the song, pressing the repeat button twice, to allow the guitar chords and chorus harmonies to carry on endlessly. A smirk stretched into an excited smile. Not wanting to jinx himself, a shy “finally” was whispered in the back of Minho’s mind at the surge of inspiration, but not spoken aloud just yet.

---

Flashing lights, heavy makeup, hot clothing, and too much fog from the smoke machine is all Jisung had thought about for the last couple hours. 3RAHCHA was in their last photo shoot for their debut. The concept photos would be released later through the week, slowly revealing the three members and their group as officially signed with JJP ent.

The multicolor lights had been running through his vision for so long that as soon as he walked into their Green Room, he had almost forgotten what color everything actually was. Looking in the mirror he saw the blonde highlighted streaks in his hair had settled nicely, slightly slicked back. The stylist had surely done their jobs well. Painting the three rappers up to look less like the nightcrawlers they were, and into something that leather and fishnet clad superstars might look like was definitely a challenge. Jisung had his makeup done just enough to give his eyes a smoky look to them, and grey contacts to emphasize his gaze. The ensemble he had on looked like something that had come straight from a catwalk. Fishnets crawling up his arms from his gloved hands and an asymmetrical shit he for sure would not have been able to put on without the help of his stylist-noona. All that plus some leather pants and combat boots, he definitely looked more like his persona J.One than the notorious hoodie clad couch potato named Jisung he usually found himself as.

Having just finished his own solo shoot, he signaled Changbin to head on to the set as he returned. The older nodded from his chair in front of the makeup station, as the artist finished the final touches to his eyeliner. Jisung watched as the shorter rapper walked out to the set in a white puffer jacket that he somehow pulled off, even with the bright red pants he wore. A part of Jisung was thankful his stylist hadn’t taken that many liberties with his outfit, but the makeup and outfit Changbin wore really only emphasized his intimidating stare and the wideness of his shoulders. It was undeniable that their concept photos would come out well.

Chan, who was seated on a couch, eating some of the provided sandwiches, was already hunched over his computer and mixing equipment again, airpods in. Probably working on tracks for their third comeback knowing him. Not wanting to jump right back into work Jisung snagged a few snacks from the buffet and found a chair he could lay on. Listening to music that wasn't work had become a rarity for Jisung in the years he had been with 3RACHA. Of course he always tried to stay on top of the recent pop and hip hop trends, but straying any farther than his trusty morning and workout playlists was more than unlikely.

Lately though, Jisung found himself looking through a lot of random indie, alternative, “western” pop, and especially dance music. The versatility of the genres was comforting to Jisung in the rather turbulent state his emotions and mental state have been in, as the debut approached. Also Minho. Meeting Minho definitely had introduced a whole new set of feelings Jisung was still working on navigating. As he listened to the different songs that populated this radio, he told himself he was just looking for some inspiration for his lyrics and 3RACHA’s new music, but even he knew that was mostly a lie.

Ever since that night at the bar with Minho he found himself always considering the older and what he would think of a song or how he would dance to it, or if he would even like it. After pointing out that he liked a particularly upbeat pop song with melancholic lyrics, during their impromptu karaoke session, Jisung had been delvinging into all related categories to find songs he thought the older might enjoy. He wanted more than anything to inspire his older companion? Partner? (that was a later Jisung question.) but he wanted to repay the man who had allowed him to get out of his creative slump. That night, as soon as the youngest rapper had returned to the 3RACHA “house” he felt the start of at least 5 separate tracks and choruses appear in his brain. His two hyungs jumped into action along with him as Jisung desperately tried to write and record everything that was jumping out of his brain at once.

Jisung remembered Chan’s smile and encouraging words as he fitted a few of his new verses to songs they had previously put on the shelf. After finding a particularly emotional but upbeat song he immediately wanted to send it to Minho. He always got hung up on what to say with the link. Other than the thought vomit that occurred every time he chooses to send him a potentially good song: “Found this song? U Like???” No Jisung, what are you five?? “I think you will enjoy this song. Please give it a listen? :0” No that just sounds desperate.

“You doing alright there Ji, I can hear you sighing through my earbuds?” Chan peeked out from under his styled bangs with a raised eyebrow, sending Jisung into a red embarrassed mess that he had been caught. He hoped his layers of foundation would cover it up.

“Yeah fine fine, don't worry. I’m FINE.” Attempting to hide Jisung curled up tighter into his arm chair. Just be casual Jisung it's a song not a marriage proposal dear god. “Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)” Good, yes fine. Send.

Minho responded immediately and cutely with an emoji that made his heart jump a little. Minho would respond always with a variation of a “Thanks! I’ll go listen”, but Jisung had yet to receive any confirmation that the older actually enjoyed the links he sent, much less had found some inspiration in them. At this point the only thing he could do was hope. He wanted nothing more than Minho to be smiling because of him.

Officially exhausted, it wasn’t until late when the 3RACHA boys had finally made it back to their apartment. The day Jisung had, had been anything but short. Almost collapsing immediately on the couch. Sana notified them that she had already ordered food to be delivered for dinner and that they should go to bed as soon as they had finished eating. Chan looked like he was about to pass out on the couch before the food even arrived, which was more than likely at this point. After their shoot they were immediately sent to a few other meetings laying out their marketing and schedule plans for the upcoming weeks. Although glad they were able to part with their artistic and career decisions with their company, it did add a lot of work and responsibilities to the trio.

Jisung’s phone had died somewhere after meeting 3 of 5 and he had submitted to having to carry the lifeless brick with him anyway. Not ideal for his wandering mind and anxiety that comes with a few too many stressful meetings. Once finally arriving home he went and plugged his phone in at the charger on the kitchen counter. Lighting up with notification buzzes as it rebooted back to life.

[ 5 new messages from Lee Minho hyungie]

Immediately cursing himself internally for not bringing his charger with him, he opened his messages from Minho ignoring all others.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

5:45 pm

Hey Jisungie, just finished up practice!

Actually may or may not have danced to the song u sent…

Maybe I’ll show you some day hehehehehehehehe ;)

7:21 pm

Han Jisung, did you forget your charger again >:/

Well I’m off to my late shift, I hope you have a good night~

Jisung always found himself smiling at Minho’s before work texts. They were always so cute. Either some sort of sweet well wishing or some other Minho-esque goodbye, along the lines of “don’t die mysteriously while i'm gone ;p” or “Have a good night, try not to miss my WONDERFUL company too much <3”. (The hearts always made Jisung grin hard, even if they were sarcastic)

This night though, Jisung found him almost jumping in victory at Minho’s text.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

12:35 am

YOU DANCED TO THE SONG

Really?!?!?!

What did you like about it?

When can I see????

You better not leave me on read after work!

Jisung tried to imagine what kind of dance Minho would do to the track he sent,and suddenly found himself flush at the thought of watching the other dance. Somehow, watching Minho dance, felt more intimate than any other situation that they’ve shared. Thankfully Minho seemed to want to hold off, so at least of the time being Jisung’s heart was safe. The exhaustion and stress from the day faded ever so slightly as soon as he thought of Minho with coordinating blush to match.

Jisung you lovestruck fool.

“Jisung! Food’s here!!! If you don't hurry Chan’ll eat your portion again.”

“HEY! It was one time.” Laughter filled the apartment gently as they all respectively fought gravity to get up and make their way to collect the food from the delivery man.

---

Minho tore up the stairs and through their apartment door as quickly as he could without spilling the carry out food he had in his arms. The clock was ticking a little past midnight and fear set in that the older would miss their planned celebrations.

Bursting through the door, “Did I beat him?!” The oldest was frazzled from rushing in order to beat their third roommate home from work.

“Barely! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, with having to bring the carry out.” Hyunjin’s sigh of relief was visible throughout the boy's now relaxed body. He had spent the last ten minutes hoping that they would still be able to pull off their surprise party for the youngest. Pacing around and failing to come up with any backup plans if Minho had been later than Felix. Thankfully for them both, Minho had a way of always being on time.

“Hey all that matters is I made it. Is everything else ready?” Looking around Minho could see that Hyunjin’s bed was transitioned back into the couch setting and that the floors had been tidied up. A couple stray balloons littered the floor as well as a home made “happy birthday felix” sign hung from their living room screen divider.

“Yep, I've just been waiting anxiously for you to get home for the past half hour.”

The door handle of their apartment began to jiggle, signaling the two boys to spring into action. Minho setting down the carry out, and Hyunjin frantically lights candles on the small cake on the coffee table. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled after-work Felix wandering through the door. As soon as the boy turned toward their living room, he was accosted with shouts and the flailing limbs of his hyungs.

“Surprise!!!” “Happy Birthday!!!”

Felix’s smile erased any of the signs of exhaustion off his face immediately as soon as he spotted his hyungs excited expressions. The cake, the streamers, the balloons, and sign all sparked some joyful tearing of his eyes as he set down his things and made his way to the small cake with a few random lit candles on top. The clock had crossed over into the next day as Felix had made his way home, that he had almost forgotten that it was now technically the early morning hours of his birthday. Coming home to joyful cheers instead of their usual exhausted silence had given him a certain happiness that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

For all of three of the roommates this was their first time having a celebration in their small home together. By now the sense of home was undeniable and without realizing it all of them had begun to consider each other and their shared 3 room apartment, home.

The disjointed singing of happy birthday followed by the laughter and conversation surrounded their coffee table as the three enjoyed their small carryout feast and cake. The warmth that their company gave each other lasted well into the night.

“Hyung! It's my birthday, stop eating all the cake!!!”

“I have no idea what youre talking about Lixie.” Minho says while actively taking another bite of their 2 person sized cake.

“Hyung!” The laughter of the oldest filled the room followed by the other two’s not too long after.

“Happy Birthday Lixie~” The smile hadn’t left the freckled boys faces since he had sat down, and remained as he pulled his two roommates into a forceful hug. It was his birthday so the boys both submitted to the clingy nature of their third roommate, as always.

---

It was late into the early morning by the time Minho had checked his phone.

[ 5 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung]

A soft pang of guilt hits his chest after reading the younger’s texts and realizing that he did in fact leave the other on read for the better part of the last two hours.

2:43 am

I’m so sorry Sungie!

We were celebrating Felix’s birthday, and I didnt check my phone….

Look at the cute cake we got him!

{photo attached}

Minho sent the selfie of the three of them with Felix’s cake, if anything just to lessen the guilt in his chest. Hoping that the cuteness of Felix’s smile would be enough to forgive him for low key ghosting him for a few hours. Minho knows that on the days Jisung has the most schedules are the hardest for him mentally, and he always tries his best to be there for him and send him a message or two to lessen the load on those nights. The fact that he hadn’t been there tonight filled him with some worry. A part of him hoped that the younger would’ve been asleep by now but their late night track record did not exactly support that.

---

Jisung had been lying painfully awake in his bed for an hour when he heard the buzz of his phone. Slightly upset with his body for not giving into the exhaustion he had gathered from the day, and just letting him sleep, he turned to the side table to check the messages. Awake fully ,but only mentally half conscious, he read through his messages:

Minho. Oh, yay, it's Minho.

Felix’s Birthday. Oh right he had mentioned that coming up.

Cute cake. Aw that cake is really cute… wait.

Birthday.

I have one of those, around this time to-

I missed my birthday. I forgot my birthday. Everyone forgot.

The cute picture Minho had sent was so filled with happiness that Jisung almost let the pain slide and pass the moment by. But something just didn't feel right in letting himself forget his own birthday. The fact that the others hadn’t remembered didn’t bother him too much. Chan, Changbin, they were all busy with schedules and he can't blame them. Especially since he, himself had forgotten. No birthday text from his family either. Unsurprising though since he rarely got in contact with them since moving to Korea in high school. He forgot though.

He wasn’t quite sure why this was bothering him so much. Some people don't even celebrate their birthday, or remember how old they are, but Jisung had always prided himself on never letting his work take over entirely who he was. To exhausted-Jisung, he couldn’t help but feel like this was one step toward losing the grip on who he was, and that was in itself, terrifying.

The coldness of his bed and the dark expanse of his room seemed to only perpetuate the way Jisung felt. Floating, alone, lost. His insecurity was starting to come into focus, and no wonder it had been keeping him up. He had been spiraling for days probably, without even knowing it. The buzz of his phone lit up his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts for a moment.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

2:50 pm

You okay Jisung?

I hope I didn't wake you

Jisung noticed that the app had revealed that he had read the messages and was indeed awake. Unfortunately, exhausted-and--spirling-Jisung was the only one present enough to send a response. Hopefully Minho wouldn’t mind him too much.

You didn’t wake me, was already up :/

It looks really fun hyung

I just realized something too

My birthday was yesterday

I forgot it

Jisung found himself fighting the watering of his eyes as he sent those messages. Why was he crying? He just forgot, he was busy. It was okay. Right? The tears seemed to only cloud his vision more, blocking him from reading the messages from Minho that were buzzing and populating the screen. Not bothering to wipe his eyes, he let them blurr.

Wh- do you- mea- ???

Jis--ng ar- y-- ok--?

I-- sorry i- di-nt -----

---- wa-t --- ca-l?

--sung?

A few moments passed, without him realizing it, as his phone buzzed some more, screen changing to the incoming call screen. Sucking up his tears and drying his damp screen, it took a few tries before answering the call.

---

“Jisung!?” Jisung nearly flinched, just nearly.

“Hi hyung, How was work?” hoping to cover up his tears by changing the subject. Jisung thought it was a pretty good attempt.

“How wa- what, no. Jisung are you okay?” There it was again. The undeniable worry in Minho’s voice. Ow.

“Yeah I’m okay.” Despite Jisung’s efforts it was obvious to Minho that the other had in fact been crying. Not wanting to push the younger though, he allowed him to change the subject

“.... okay, I just want to check in on you. I worry you know, Sung!”

“About me? that's silly hyung.” The distance in his tone replaced Jisung’s usual brightness, and it hurt Minho to hear it.

“I don't think so. How am I to know what my favorite customer is up to? You may be a soon to be rap star but that doesn’t keep you from ignoring your hyung.” Even though Jisung giggled at that, the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Minho. A wave of guilt washed over his chest as soon as he said it.

“I am sorry though. For not answering sooner and everything.”

And for reminding you of your birthday, and making you cry, and not being there to make you smile.

“No don’t be sorry! That’ll only make me feel worse for bothering you… I think the exhaustion was just making me delirious, I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights.” Minho had to fight his initial protective instincts that told him to scold the younger for not taking care of himself, because a part of him knew that the younger was certainly trying his best to do so.

“Well if you can’t sleep ever, just call me okay? I’m usually up from my shifts anyway. Plus if I'm not up surely one of my roommates is. Felix will probably never let go of you once he finds your birthday brothers." Hearing Minho's laugh lightened the tight pressure that Jisung hadn't realized had been settled in his chest.

"Okay hyung, i'd like that I think."

"You better. My time rarely comes free, and this is a limited time offer." Jisung’s laugh is a little bit more enthusiastic this time.

“Of course hyung.” A silence came over them for a moment. Not an awkward one, more of a point of realization and relief. Like the feeling after having a good cry, in Jisung’s case.

“Happy belated birthday Jisung.”

“Thanks hyung… Did you have a fun time with Felix?”

“Yeah! It was actually a lot of fun. Just some carry out and cake after work, but it was good to relax with them. We don't always have free time together, and haven’t had the chance to celebrate anything until now. Hyunnie luckily found a cake on sale at the mart today, sparking this whole thing.”

Minho remembered the frantic call from the younger as he delved into his plans for giving Felix the “perfect surprise birthday celebration” because he had “found the perfect cake to match Felix’s cuteness.” It was on sale. Also because “Come on Min-hyung Felix would absolutely do the same for us.” Explaining the situation to Jisung really did solidify the fact that Minho knew Felix, would in fact, plan some adorable birthday celebration for the older two if given the opportunity.

“What would you guys have done if he hadn't found the cake?”

“I’m not sure maybe it would’ve just been a carry-out celebration.”

“Still sounds really nice hyungie. You and your roommates seem so close.”

“I suppose shared rent does that to people.” Minho laughed it off but he had begun to cherish the brotherly bond that had grown between his roommates.

Not having ever considered it before, the fact that the roommates were only able to buy a cake because it happened to be on sale, revealed to Jisung that their financial situations may have been farther apart than he realized. Money had never been a barrier that Jisung had to face, always having family (or honestly Changbin) help pay for his living and pursuit of his dreams. Sure he’s had part time jobs in the past but he never found himself worrying about not making enough each month. Not going to university definitely was a large factor in maintaining his “affordable” lifestyle.

“It's nice you do things for each other. I can't remember the last time my hyungs and I have done something together that didn't have to do with our music.” Jisung started to feel some sort of jealousy at the closeness that Minho and his roommate had found in each other. Financial guilt and emotional jealousy are a strange combination for a half conscious Jisung to say the least.

“Are those fools not taking care of my Sung properly? Illegal, tell them to call me I have to yell at them too. They better not be working you too hard.”

‘My Sung’ Jisung almost choked. Almost.

“Nonono Hyung! They take care of me fine, we're all just exhausted with work.”

“Hmmmm okay they get a pass this time, but please relay my threat.”

“Okay okay I will.”

“You should probably get some rest soon. You're busy tomorrow right?”

Jisung yawned in response, which was enough convincing for Minho that he needed to rest.

“Okay looks like it's sleepy time for hardworking Jisung~”

“Wait hyung!” Jisung wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, even though his body was actively fighting him.

“Yes belated birthday boy?”

“Thank you for not letting me be a sad gremlin all night. It would've been nice to have spent my birthday with you, but you still made me feel better.”

The musings of sleepy Jisung were just about enough to let the fondness burst from Minho’s chest. As much as he continues to hide it, the fondness still seeps into his voice, “Of course, Jisung we always have next year.” A promise he wasn’t sure he could keep but Jisung always made him want to try new things.

“Next year?” The sleepiness had definitely taken over, making his voice much softer than his usual bright edge.

“Yes next year... Goodnight Sungie, call me back if you can't sleep okay.”

“Mmkay, G’night hyungie.” Already half asleep by the time he hung up, Minho was glad that the younger was finally able to rest. Glancing at his roommates huddled together on the couch already drifting off, Minho accepted that it was his turn to finally rest knowing that all his younger companions were all safely sleeping. Hyung instincts he supposes.

-----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#skz au #skz fic #stray kids au #stray kids fic #lee minho #han jisung #minsung #leeknow #skz lee know #skz han #stray kids #lee felix #hwang hyunjin

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untilspringdays · 4 years

Text

Lovely Sins || Chapter 4

Summary: You were a researcher investing six strange beings that you didn’t quite understand. They had strange powers that you and your partner Mark Lee were tasked with testing the extent off. It was your typical day really but as time progressed between you and the seven of these men, you found yourself growing attached. Will the seven of these men restore some of your humanity? And could you help them escape?

Pairings: Reader x Super M (OT7)

Genre: Sci-fi AU || Angst, Fluff, Smut (Eventually)

Warnings: Violence, Experimentation, Cussing, Torture, Dark Themes. (Will have some dark things going on please read at your own risk!)

A/N: I have been super busy lately, so sorry for taking so long to get anything out. Hopefully I can have the next chapter of Catalyst out soon too. These chapters are gonna be a little shorter since its been a while. Sorry.

Word Count: 2.5 k

Previous || Master List || Next

Tag-list: @reiki-chan @j-pping (Ask me or message me to be added!)

Kicked out.

You were kicked out of Mark’s office as soon as Subject 2 had shown up, with possible answers as to what exactly happened between Ten and 109. You wanted to know but as much as you insisted in being there Taemin stayed rooted in his spot that you didn’t need to hear this. That he didn't want you to hear this. Not yet.

Mark informed you that he would find a good way to share with you what information Taemin had shared with him, and essentially ushered you out of the office..

It wasn’t fair.. They were your subjects as well! It was your place as their researcher to know important information! You let out a huff and stomped over to your office. You threw yourself into your desk chair settling at your computer to work, even if you were severely frustrated at what just occurred.

✦

The younger man gestured to the chair you just occupied for Taemin to take a seat. Once the older man had settled, even if he looked uncomfortable, Mark spoke.

“So why is this information so important that my partner couldn’t be in the room to hear it?” Mark said using a stern voice. He didn’t like to pull his authority especially with someone older than him, but it had to be done. He wanted to have you with him, but this information was too important for him not to pass on just because he couldn’t meet one simple demand.

Taemin let out a small sigh, his blank look not moving off of his face. “It has to do with her. I may not be the most active in the sector despite my free roam but I notice more than you think I do.” Subject 2 said.

He straightened out in his chair, pushing himself to sit a little straighter. “I run into Ten often when the two of you aren’t here. It wasn’t unusual for him to act out like that especially when it comes to her.” Taemin said, his voice plain and flat.

“Subject 10 isn’t one to show violent tendencies. So you are suggesting that he becomes violent with things that have to do with her?” Mark asked, the writing end of his pen sitting between his fingers, ready to write anything down. He didn’t like where this was going. If that was the case then Subject 10 would have to be removed from their observation. Especially if he was too dangerous.

“More like he becomes violent if someone does something to upset her or hurt her.” The older man stated. “He has threatened me before over something I just casually mentioned. Thinking I was upsetting her somehow.”

Mark paused letting the words sink in for a moment trying to figure out what exactly Ten’s motivations were. “So is he attracted to her in a romantic manner?” If he was, it was another reason for the higher ups to take their subjects. Results would become bias if this was the case.

“No..” Taemin said, making Mark feel relieved but as soon as the older went to speak again Mark stopped him by holding up a single finger.

Quickly the researcher typed something in on the computer doing a quick few things here and there before turning back to Taemin.

“Alright now we can talk freely without Higher ups getting a recording of this conversation.”

Taemin was a little confused but he wasn’t going to ask just yet. “Not yet anyway. He is possessive of her that is for sure, but I’m certain he is possessive of you as well.” He took a small breath before speaking again. “That incident with 109. I saw the injuries on her arm. I saw her running to help him that night. Afterwards when she made her rounds I could easily see the bandage.” Taemin adjusted in his seat again. “Based on what I know about Ten it wasn’t unusual.”

Mark was deep in thought, but he was listening intently to what Subject 2 was saying. “So this started because she decided to help 109? That 109 is in the condition he is in because he hurt her?” Mark asked leaning back in his chair, dark eyes firm on the older man in his office.

“I’m saying 109’s damage is Ten taking some sort of revenge. He is attached to both of you, in my current opinion a little too attached.” Current? The word had caught Mark off guard for a moment. “But if you had been the one in her situation, the one with the injury, I think the outcome would have been the same.”

He was attached to both of the researchers? It would make sense considering how often Subject 10 would barge into their offices. He would spend his free time in either of their company. He basically acted as their friend occasionally stepping into a flirty territory with either of them. Of course neither of the two researchers would accept his joking affection.

Mark let out a small sigh, before speaking up again. “I can’t believe I’m asking this especially to one of my own subjects.. But,” Mark let out a huff before straightening up, fingers tapping lightly against the desk. “What do you think should be done? Should we turn Ten over to another sector as our protocol states?”

Taemin shrugged. “This is outside of my concern. I don’t care what you guys do.” Subject 2 stood up from the chair, before speaking again. “But.. I suggest not transferring him. If you aren’t careful Ten might wind up being more violent than he already is.”

Taemin opened the door, noting that your office door was closed and you were nowhere in sight. “He ignored you when you tried to talk to him, didn’t he?”

Mark nodded.

“Well it sounds to me that he is punishing himself.” Taemin said, before stepping out of the door letting the researcher think to himself.

Mark hummed. “So I guess we just let this play out. Monitor him closely..” The researcher mused to himself, letting his thoughts take him again. Despite his current closed off nature, Ten would have to be watched closely if he is punishing himself for his actions.. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn into some sort of physical punishment for himself.

Mark let another stressed sigh. Just more to add to his already stressful workload, but what was worse was how he was gonna have to break this to you. He didn’t even know how to take the information himself.

“Oh my god..”

✦

It had been a few days at this point. Mark had refused to tell you what he and Taemin talked about always saying he ‘didn’t know how to word it yet.’ You wanted to know. These were your subjects so of course you pressed on the subject ready to jump in and fix whatever the situation was. And maybe.. Just maybe you could get 10 back to normal, and restore the progress made with 109, but the more you pressed for the info the more Mark brushed you off, and avoided you. Honestly.. It hurt.

At this point you just expected Mark to ignore you, to never tell you the information he said he would share with you. You sat slouched in your chair in your office, eyes going over data for the nth time since you returned to your office. Your morning rounds not even changing. Everything was the same, and now the one time something was different you weren’t even allowed to go talk to either subject the guards still stationed outside both of their containment. What were you going to do?

You rubbed your hands on your face for a moment giving you eyes a break from looking at the screen for such a long time. The question of what to do about the situation repeated in your mind. Your partner, your long time trusted partner, wasn’t even helping you. Your subjects.. None of them could help except for subject 2 but he wouldn’t talk to you.

Your mind ran through the events of the day, of the interaction between the three subjects that happened the morning before Ten attacking 109. Maybe.. Maybe you could talk to Subject 4 and 88? Maybe they could provide some insight on the situation?

…

It couldn’t hurt.

With a sigh you pushed back from your desk, standing and stretching yourself out before grabbing your tablet. You stepped out into the empty hallway, your eyes scanning through it before moving down the long hallway that was your sector. Subject 2 and Subject 4’s rooms sat closest to the offices so you didn’t have to move too far to reach the containment.

As soon as you stepped into the containment, the two subjects' attention was on the door, both of them alert and not particularly happy looking, you knew they probably didn’t like you but they were really your only hope.

You walked over to the glass that seperated the containment from the first floor observation, plopping yourself down onto the floor with a sigh. Their gazes locked onto you but you didn’t mind.

You sat with your legs crossed, elbow resting on your knee with your hand holding your head. Your tablet sat on the floor in front of you, your gaze on the screen that held the controls for Subjects 4’s containment. You tapped at a couple things before allowing communication between the two rooms.

When you spoke your voice was plain and tired. It was clear to tell that you haven’t been resting well since the event that occured. “Hello you two.”

They just stared at you, this was outside your normal rounds. Outside of what you normally did for testing so you didn’t blame them for being hesitant.

“Look I’m here for some conversation and maybe you can give me some answers. I don’t suppose Mark has been here?”

88 was the one to speak up first. “Mark? That’s his name?”

You nodded. You knew these two didn’t tend to call either of you by your names so it didn’t surprise you that they didn’t know, or at least 88. 4 had been here long enough to know your names but you could tell that he didn’t particularly care about using them.

“Yes, he is Mark, and I’m Y/N.” You responded.

“Y/N..” Kai echoed. “It’s a nice name.”

“Thanks,” You said mutely, you weren’t really here for compliments. “Look I know the two of you probably aren’t aware but there was a situation. An altercation happened between two of the other subjects the other day.”

“And that has to do with us, how?” Subject 4 stated harshly trying to figure out exactly what your intentions were.

“One of the subjects involved was Subject 10. The one the two of you interacted with the morning before the incident.” You stated flatly, eyes gauging the two of them for any kind of reaction. Subject 4 looking somewhat curious while 88 seemed a little shocked by the news.

“You don’t seem surprised, Subject 4.” You observed simply.

“I..” One time he didn’t have some sort of harsh tone for you. That was all he ever had for you these days. “I don’t know. I don’t know him well enough but despite his innocent looking demeanor there was something different?” It was a question. He was unsure.

Kai shook his head. “I don’t see it. He didn’t seem the type, at least not without a good enough reason.”

“That is what has me confused. Ten doesn’t have a past he remembers. He just remembers this place so what would he have a connection to enough to be willing to harm another subject who is contained?” You asked more so musing to yourself than to them but you would welcome any feedback they could give you.

The two subjects looked back to each other, not really able to provide an answer to your question.

You could feel their eyes turn back to you even if your gaze was towards the ceiling, your mind searching for any possible answer to your question as to why this happened.

"Maybe.." You heard 88's voice. It was quite like he wasn't sure if he should say anything but there wasn't a protest from either you or subject 4 so he continued.

"Maybe it has to do with you? Or uhh.. Mark? I remember subject 10 stating he liked the two of you." 88 was hesitant about sharing this information. You could hear it in his tone. Whether he thought it was private information or if he was wrong in his words you didn't know. "That is the only possibility I can think of but even if I remember that correctly I don't see how that would cause him to lash out." Kai said.

As subject 88 spoke, it felt like the prices were falling in place. It made sense.. Ten saw your wound from 109 when Mark confronted you about it. You knew he was concerned about it considering how his amusement had slipped away from his face as soon as he saw it. Your subject was concerned about you.. He cared for you more than you realized.. How could you not have seen this?

The subjects must have seen the change on your face because as soon as your face grew grim subject 4 was the one to speak up.

“Y/N..?” His voice was soft when he spoke, concern laced in his tone. You almost didn’t even realize it was subject 4 that had spoken to you.

You looked up meeting Subject 4’s gaze, concern was all you could see. No longer was there a cold front he put up every time you were around. A small glimpse of the person you used to know, but as much as you wanted to relish in that moment you couldn’t. There were too many concerns flowing through your mind.

You stood, grabbing your tablet in the process, gaze locked towards the ground. “I..” You started. “I have to go.”

“Wait.. Y/N!” The subjects called after you as you hurried out of the containment. You ignored their calls. With this new information… You had to talk to Mark. Was this what he was hiding from you?

You hurried down the long stark hallway, your mind not even paying attention to what was around you. You needed to talk to Mark, you needed to speak with your research partner.

You stood outside Mark’s office door. You knew he was here. You also knew he locked his office to avoid you. As much as you wanted to be annoyed by his behavior you couldn’t at the moment. The concern for your subjects, the concern for what you learned plagued your mind causing anxiety to bubble up inside of you.

If this was the cause of the situation, if you were the cause of this situation.. You didn’t know what you would do. All of this over an accident.. 109 hadn’t meant to hurt you. It was an accident.. And now 109 was hurt because of Ten.. Ten was most likely hurting too from being locked away. All of this because of you, all of this because an accident.

You let out a shaky sigh before raising your hand to knock on Mark’s office door.

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mystical-flute · 3 years

Text

Home is Wherever I'm With You (ch. 6)

FFN || AO3 || Ko-Fi

“Last chance to back out, bud,” Neal said, glancing over at Henry as he stood near the door of their hotel room. “You’re sure you’re okay with us moving here?”

Henry nodded, grinning. “Positive, Dad! It’ll be a new adventure, like you and Mom always talked about.”

Emma couldn’t help but grin slightly, even if there was a knot in her stomach that threatened to make her scream that they were going back to Boston and to forget this little town. It would have been an adjustment to not having Audrey and Snoopy around, but they could have made it work - right?

But Emma didn’t say anything, only giving Neal a quick peck on the lips. “Be careful, don’t rush yourself getting everything packed.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve already emailed a few friends to help me out,” Neal said, squeezing her hand before ruffling Henry’s hair. “Good luck, listen to your mom, and don’t start complaining about your teacher before you’ve given them a chance, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Henry said with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean it, moving is a big deal. We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

“Especially in a small town like this,” Emma grumbled, before sighing. “C’mon kid. You’re lucky the superintendent was willing to meet with us on a Sunday.”

She gave Neal another quick kiss before heading out with Henry.

The school complex seemed enormous, although Emma supposed that’s what happened in these small towns - they didn’t have to travel miles from school to school because there weren’t a ton of shops and houses in the way.

She was surprised to see a woman standing at the top step, waiting for them.

“Good morning! You must be Mrs. Cassidy,” she said with a wide smile. “And this must be Henry.”

“Ms. Jackson, right?” Emma said as Henry gave a nervous wave. “Thank you for meeting with us on a Sunday.”

“Please, call me Olivia. And it’s no trouble. It’s not often we get new students enrolled here, so this is really exciting for us!” Olivia opened the door, guiding them inside. “Come right on in and we’ll get you set up. When we’re done with Henry’s schedule and the other paperwork I’ll give you a tour.”

“Sounds great,” Emma hummed, glancing around. It seemed like any other school she’d been in. A little older, even than the Boston schools Henry and Audrey attended, but it was that same sickly-sweet charming that the rest of Storybrooke seemed to have.

Olivia’s office seemed normal though, and Emma felt herself relax slightly as she began rapidly typing on her computer.

“Alright then, Henry. I received your records a few minutes ago from Boston - ”

“That quickly?” Emma interrupted. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect them to be working on a Sunday.”

Olivia shrugged. “When something like this pops up, sometimes the system actually moves like we want it to. Anyway, his records and notes from his teachers indicate he’s a fan of art, is that right?”

Henry nodded. “It’s my favorite class. And I was in a special art camp this summer.”

“That’s wonderful, Henry! I think I have an opening in the perfect class.” A few more clicks of her keyboard, the sound of a printer, and she was sliding a schedule across the desk. “You’ll be in Miss Blanchard’s class. She does lots of art projects during her lessons to help students learn in a unique way.”

“We met her yesterday!” Henry chirped. “She seemed really nice.”

Emma couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief, knowing Henry would be with Mary-Margaret. “She did. She was volunteering at the hospital when we brought Audrey in.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s right, I heard about Audrey’s return. It’s a miracle, really. She’s been gone as long as I can remember…” Olivia trailed off, seemingly lost in thought, before the bright smile returned as she reached into her desk. “So here’s some information on the schools, and a map for Henry in case he needs it. You can find the pieces for the uniform pretty much anywhere, so don’t worry about that. Although, I will need his size for the sweater.”

Henry soured a little at the mention of a uniform.

“He’s a medium,” Emma said.

Olivia nodded, rising to her feet. “I’ll grab one out of storage while we’re on our tour, if you’re ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

“The main menu for lunch rotates every day, and we’re lucky to have a local farmer that donates much of the produce we use,” Olivia explained as they wandered past a display of science fair projects. “Kids are welcome to eat inside or outside, weather permitting, and we have monitors in both areas.”

“That’s cool! We weren’t allowed to eat lunch outside in Boston,” Henry explained.

Emma couldn’t help but raise a brow. “How’d you swing the farmer donating produce to the school?”

“Well, it helps that he’s married to be one of our teachers,” Olivia explained with a laugh. “Daphne teaches high school, so maybe in a few years Henry will be in her class. Or maybe Audrey. I’m going to be taking her schedule and information to the hospital later.”

“I can take it to her, if you want. Henry and I are going to the hospital later this afternoon,” Emma offered.

Olivia hummed, tapping her finger against her cheek. “Well, since you are technically listed as Audrey’s parent on her school records, that will be fine. I’ll get her schedule and information settled when we head back to the office. Do you happen to know what size she wears?”

“Sounds like a plan. And she’s a medium as well.”

“I’ll get her sweater when we grab Henry’s. Miss Blanchard’s room is - oh, it looks like she’s here. That’s strange,” Olivia frowned as they approached the open classroom door. “Mary-Margaret?”

Something thudded to the ground, and there was a startled yelp.

“Superintendent Jackson! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were here too.”

“I’m showing Mrs. Cassidy and her son around… what brings you here?”

“I’ve been looking for my credit card. I tore my apartment apart but it’s nowhere to be found. So I thought I would check here.”

Olivia blinked. “Oh, I see. I’ll run the security tapes and see if anything’s come up. Nothing has been turned in at the Lost and Found, but that doesn’t mean no one has it.”

“Thank you, Olivia. I appreciate it.”

Emma kept a hand on Henry’s shoulder as they lingered in the doorway. “Hi, Mary-Margaret, I don’t know if you remember - ”

Mary-Margaret smiled slightly. “You’re the family from the hospital. What brings you to the schools though?”

“You’re my new teacher,” Henry announced, glancing around the classroom. “Which one is going to be my desk?”

“I’m - sorry?” Mary-Margaret asked, stepping back as Henry pushed further into the room. “His new teacher?”

Emma sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry about that. We’re uh, moving to Storybrooke. He was put in your class.”

“Oh! Well come on in then. I’ll get you caught up on what we’re learning about. Henry, this will be your desk right here,” she said, guiding Henry to a desk near the window. “I’ve been teaching them how to build birdhouses. It helps with building empathy and their math skills.”

“Combining art and math. I wish I had a teacher like you when I was growing up. Maybe I would actually like math,” Emma joked.

Mary-Margaret gave her a weak smile. “Math isn’t my favorite subject either, but just know if Henry finds he’s struggling, the high school has a great tutoring program.”

“You guys sure thought of everything,” Emma remarked.

“Well, we figured it’d be a good way for the older kids to earn a little credit, and help the younger students out. It’s also part of the after-school program.”

Emma smiled. “That all sounds great. It’s really making me feel better that Henry’s still going to get a good education, even if we’re not in Boston.”

“Storybrooke is… like a fairytale, Mrs. Cassidy. We may be small, but we prioritize education,” Olivia explained. “Shall we continue the tour?”

Why did her phrasing sound so odd to Emma? Still, she managed a smile. “Sounds good. C’mon kid.”

They saw the playground, the computer lab, and the library before Olivia led them to a small shop area. “And here we are. Two medium Storybrooke sweaters.” They were presented as if they were made of gold, which had Emma biting back a laugh as she took them. “We’ll just get Audrey’s paperwork all settled and that’ll be it. Unless you had any further questions?”

Emma wracked her brain. “No, I think that’s it. But I’ll contact you if I think of anything.”

“Fantastic,” Olivia said, returning to the office and setting up the same paperwork and schedule for Audrey. “It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Cassidy. We’ll see you tomorrow at 8:30 sharp then, Henry?”

“Yes Miss Jackson.”

Emma guided him out of the office, hearing Olivia answer a phone call as they disappeared down the hall.

“Lacey, what’s up? Yeah I can…”

---

Madalena was going to kill Rumplestiltskin if she ever got out of here.

No. When she got out of here. Because she would get out of here, of course. She was the Dark Queen Madalena after all! She could get out of here on her own… even if she had failed so far and she had no idea exactly how long she had even been trapped in this godforsaken book.

Her Handsome Hero. What a dumb name for a book. What a ridiculous idea for a plot.

If she had to watch Gideon the Great cut a spider in half one more time, she was going to scream.

And she had screamed multiple times already.

The worst part of living in a book was there being no plot for Madalena. The author hadn’t put a Queen Madalena in it, so she was relegated to being in the back of crowd scenes, completely ignored and unable to do anything to end the sieges that plagued this village.

Not that she wanted to be a hero, of course. No, Madalena just wanted to save her own skin and had been caught in the crossfire one too many times.

“Fear not, Duchess Prudence, I, Gideon, shall slay the evil Sorceress!” the hero of the story says, dramatically flourishing his hands.

Madelena rolled her eyes and made a face. Just once, she’d like to be able to turn Gideon or one of the other townspeople into a toad, or a dog, or something. Anything to make this more bearable.

“Madalena?” a voice suddenly said from above. That wasn’t right, and suddenly everything froze. “I don’t recall you being in the story before.”

“Hello?!”

Why could she move? Who was that voice? It was new, didn’t come from any of the stale creatures around her… had someone from the real world finally picked up the book?

“Madalena, I free you from these pages.”

She didn’t have time to think before she felt herself being yanked up, landing hard on a carpeted floor.

“Oh gods, are you okay?” came the same voice, only this time, it was much closer.

Madelena felt the world tilting for a moment, before everything stilled and she lifted her head from the carpet, heaving in deep breaths and staring down at her hands. Free. She was… free? She pushed herself up into a sitting position, feeling the world tilt slightly again as she glanced around the room.

She knew this place. Rumplestiltskin’s library.

She was free.

“Erm… hello?” the voice asked again, and Madelena jumped, glancing over. “Sorry, are you okay?”

That was a loaded question. Was she okay?

“I…” her voice was raspy. “How long… was I in there?”

“I don’t know… you’re Madalena of Keburg, aren’t you?”

Her head shot over to the young woman who had spoken, eyes wide. They still spoke of her? Good. Then it must not have been all that long.

“I am. They deposed me two years ago.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and Madalena’s heart sank. “No… not two years ago. They just celebrated their Decade of Peace.”

Decade? Decade?!

“I’ve been in that book for eight years…” Madalena whispered. “Oh my gods…”

“I’m glad I got you out of there. What happened?”

Madalena rose to her feet, brushing invisible lint off her gown. “That bastard Rumplestiltskin locked me in there. All I wanted to do was learn some dark magic to take control of a kingdom, that’s not too much to ask for, right?”

“Er… I’m probably not the best person to ask about that, but you’re not the only evil queen in the realm.”

“Oh, no, please don’t call me evil, just dark,” Madalena said, raising a brow. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Belle. I’m Rumplestiltskin’s housekeeper.”

“May the gods have mercy on you then,” Madalena said, rubbing her head. “Thank you for freeing me, Belle.”

“You should hurry and get out of here. Rumplestiltskin will be home any moment.”

Madalena nodded, raising her hand to disappear, before she paused. “I don’t know where to go. I can’t go back to Keburg, I can’t stay in this kingdom…”

“I think you’ll find allies here if you stay off Rumplestiltskin’s radar. He’s not exactly the most popular man here. Now hurry, go!”

“Thank you again for freeing me, Belle. I’ll make sure to leave you in peace when I come to power,” Madalena said, vanishing in a cloud of black smoke. Where she would go, she didn’t know, but if what Belle said was true, perhaps there was a chance for her to find allies.

Maybe she could take down Rumplestiltskin and take his place.

That might be nice.

She landed in the middle of the woods, on some sort of carriage path. No matter which direction she looked, she couldn’t see Rumplestiltskin’s castle. Hopefully, that meant she was far enough away. Now all she had to do was find some food or shelter. Or, find some people to give her food and shelter. She was still a queen after all… even if she had fallen.

A small village wasn’t too far from where she’d landed, and Madalena sighed, pushing herself into the nearest pub.

“The next round is on me!” a man shouted, lifting an empty stein into the air. “Grimsund shall prosper once again!”

There was a roar from the crowd, and Madalena gasped as a mug was shoved into her hand from the nearest barmaid.

“Oh, I - ”

“No need to worry, Prince James paid for this round,” she said with a grin. “He’s just come back from a giant hunt.”

A prince, huh?

Madalena could work with that.

“Thank you, then,” she said to the barmaid. “Is that him over there?”

“Aye, that’s him, but if you think you’ve got a chance with him, you may want to temper your expectations. The rumor is he’s got a different woman in his bed every month,” she explained. “Truth is, I don’t know if he’ll ever commit to one woman, even if the king forces an arrangement.”

Ah, so it was that sort of deal, hm? Fine. Madalena could take out the competition.

“I see, thank you kindly,” she said, sipping at her beer before sauntering over to the prince and dropping into the seat across from him.

He raised a brow. “And who might you be.”

“I might be Queen Madalena of Keburg, I might be just a figment of your imagination,” she smirked.

James furrowed his brow. “Weren’t you deposed?”

“Details, details.”

James looked her up and down. “Well, what can I do for fellow royalty?”

“That’s just it. I’m not exactly royal anymore, and I just spent eight years trapped in a book thanks to the Dark One. As much as I hate to do this, I need help.”

Setting his much on the table, James leaned forward. “And what can you do for me?”

Madalena waved her hand, magic gathering in it. “What do you need?”

---

“Here you go, Emma, grilled cheese and onion rings. Hey - you alright?” Ruby asked, setting the plate down in front of her.

Emma rubbed her eyes and looked up from the newspaper in front of her. “Yeah, thanks. I’m just trying to find a place for us to live, and it’s not like there are a lot of options here.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me. If there were more affordable houses here, I’d have moved out of the bed and breakfast a long time ago. That, and if Granny would ever let me meet with Victoria…”

The last part was said in a mumble, which had Emma raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

Ruby looked around, before digging through her apron and pulling out a card. “Victoria Belfrey-Polastel. She’s a realtor in town. Wanted to buy Granny’s not too long ago and make it more modern, instead of a dumpy diner and bed and breakfast. Granny hit the roof and refused to ever serve her, but she gave me a card if I ever needed it, but you and your family need it more than I do, so here. Just… don’t tell Granny I told you about her.”

Emma took the card, sliding it into her wallet. “Thanks Ruby. I owe you one.”

“So long as you don’t tell Granny, consider us even.”

And that was how Emma found herself sitting in a way too spotless, modern office that afternoon after making sure Henry didn't need anything.

Seriously, was this Victoria thinking she was selling to celebrities and the too-wealthy in New York City? What was with this place?

“Mrs. Cassidy, welcome.”

Emma briefly considered reminding the woman that her name was Emma, but decided against it. “Thank you for meeting with me. I’m sorry it’s on such short notice.”

“Oh no need to apologize for something like that! This is my job after all, and it’s not often I get a client with a family that needs to be moved. Everyone here just seems to be so settled that they never go anywhere. But what sort of house were you and your family looking for?” Victoria said, flourishing a pen and smoothing out the notepad in front of her.

Emma paused. What were they looking for in a house? They hadn’t had many options when it came to apartments, aside from the location and the spectacular front door that Emma was going to miss.

“Er… at least three bedrooms, although four would be ideal, I guess, so Neal and I can have an office,” she started, running her tongue along her teeth in an attempt to think. “Maybe a nice yard. We’re from Boston and our son has never had a yard to play in.”

Victoria was nodding, scribbling away. “I have two daughters. I get it.”

“Maybe something updated? I don’t know if we can handle moving all of our stuff and finding out the house needs new floors or a new bathroom.”

“Ah!” Victoria suddenly said, tossing the pen onto her desk and rapidly typing on her computer. “I have the perfect house for you, Mrs. Cassidy. 715 Tenth Street. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, nicely updated and a large backyard. It’s an updated Victorian, and one of the best Storybrooke can offer. We can drive over now, if you want to see it?”

Emma nodded, her throat dry.

But Victoria was right, 715 Tenth Street was what she would call perfect for that family, and she signed on the dotted line in the spotless kitchen - her kitchen, and blinked in shock as Victoria passed her the keys.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Cassidy.”

#ouat #once upon a time #swanfire #home is wherever i'm with you

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #4- Man, Talk About Timely, Huh? It’s Time for the Plague Storyline!

Issue #4 opens up with First Aid writing in his diary about the less-than-stellar working conditions at Delphi medical center, and it’s not because Ambulon caught him reading Wreckers fanfic during office hours for the eighth time this week.

So, here’s the thing: you can’t be demoted from doctor to nurse. That’s not how that goes, because doctors and nurses aren’t on the same career path ladder. A doctor can have certain accesses and privileges taken away if their performance slips, or can be moved to a different ward or transferred to another facility, but outright demotion to nurse status isn’t a THING. If anything, First Aid would be performing nurse duties to cover for the fact that Delphi seems to have a grand total of three staff members for the entire outpost. Hell, they’ve had to outsource their mental health checkups to a guy who was in orbit over Cybertron until a couple months ago.

But anyway, something’s up at Delphi, and it all started when they let a couple of Decepticon surrendering combatants inside. These two dudes were running from the Decepticon Justice Division, a group who basically super-murder any Decepticon who’s decided to do a runner from the Cause. The DJD’s base of operations is in the same general area as Delphi, which seems like maybe not the best idea for the Autobots when it came to outpost placement, but it seems to be working out pretty well for the surrendering combatants.

Pharma shows up, and is ready to throw them back outside- he’s the big boss, so he can make that kind of call- but after a little detective works they figure out that the two don’t have their t-cogs anymore, having had them removed for religious purposes. Ambulon sees them as the exact opposite of a threat because of this, not to mention him having a soft spot for surrendering ‘Cons, and manages to convince Pharma to let them stay, and also not violate the Autobot Code, Article 7, which states that all surrendering combatants must be granted safe haven. Ultra Magnus would be proud.

They lock up the Decepticons, slate them for a patch up, then things get complicated as it turns out, they’ve got a branched spark. The last time we saw a branched spark, things didn’t turn out so hot, and it looks like things have started going similarly downhill.

But enough about the horrific deaths of dozens of robots on a frozen planet, it’s time for bar shenanigans!

While Skids prepares to commit an act of violence on a droid that’s done absolutely nothing to him and is just trying to do its friggin’ job, Swerve reveals to Ratchet that he’s decided to follow his dreams after all and open a bar. He doesn’t have all the paperwork turned in yet, per se, but he’s working on it. He hands Ratchet a free drink to celebrate the off-panel event of the Lost Light having found itself on the map again, and Ratchet, who’s apparently never heard of a shot, gripes about the portioning.

Of course, he might have a bit of a point, as the drink seems to shrink more and more as he talks to Swerve about the fact that they’re both giant nerds who were subscribed to Wreckers: Declassified.

Was non-war-related entertainment just not allowed for the last four million years? No wonder the war went on for so long- everyone was so steeped in it they forgot how to function like regular people. Since the logs were beamed directly into the brain, I can only imagine the amount of physic damage that last entry caused.

The reason Ratchet’s brought up everyone’s favorite podcast is that there was a new entry last night- odd, considering that Ironfist’s been dead for a couple years at this point. It was just a series of seemingly random numbers, or at least it would have been, if Ratchet wasn’t a good doctor who kept up-to-date on his medical news.

My my, I do wonder which Wreckers: Declassified subscriber could have sent those statistics on Delphi out into the aether.

As luck would have it, the Lost Light isn’t terribly far away from Messatine at the moment, which is the planet Delphi is on. Ratchet decides it’s time to check things out.

Over in Rodimus’ very pink room, Ultra Magnus wants to have a discussion about Tailgate, and the fact that he wants to be a Decepticon. This is, obviously, a problem, considering the fact that everyone on the ship, who wasn’t stuck in some sort of hole or alternate dimension for the last six millions years, is staunchly anti-Decepticon. Magnus laments on the fact that now that the war is over, he has to start seeing people as people, as opposed to cogs in the machine. Magnus is one of those guys who functions better with structure, which the Lost Light doesn’t really have a ton of.

Rodimus tells Magnus to lighten up a bit, before he pulls something trying to bring military regulation into civilian life, and says that he’ll handle the whole Tailgate thing.

Back down on Messatine, Ratchet’s dragged Drift and Pipes of all people into his little visit to Delphi, and they’re rocking up to the scene on the MARBs- Mobile Autobot Repair Bays. This is Pipe’s first space adventure, and he’s really happy to be here!

We’ll see how he feels a little later in the day.

As the boys make their way over to the plot, Drift and Ratchet lay a bit of groundwork down for future storylines, then arrive outside Delphi to find the door locked and spray painted with a big ol’ X.

Shane McCarthy slipped James Roberts a twenty to set up a slowburn between his OC and Ratchet. Let’s see how that pays off.

Pipes decides to do a thing and crash through the entrance like a hooligan. It goes about as well as one could expect, though we do a pretty sweet and unnecessary flip from Drift out of it.

We’re going to need to soak Pipes in rubbing alcohol for a good hour.

Ratchet yells at Pipes for busting into a medical outpost that clearly wasn’t meant to be cracked open like a cold one, not to mention knocking over at least three hospital beds.

Then a sick guy shows up and Drift flips the hell out and slices up a guy so hard Pipes has to remove his visor to watch the insanity unfold.

The whole “sword murder” thing doesn’t really gel with the idea of “do no harm”, so Ratchet and Drift get into it a bit before First Aid shows up and starts drawing on Pipe’s face.

Back on the Lost Light, Rodimus is keeping his promise and dealing with Tailgate, with the help of Rewind, resident historical archivist and the guy who’s about to rock Tailgate’s fucking world in under 12 seconds.

Okay. So.

The thing about recorded history is everything has a bias. No matter how impartial the recorder attempts to be, no matter how detached, there will ALWAYS be at least a little bleedthough. Now, while it’s unlikely Rewind’s been in direct combat, because he’s friggin’ tiny and turns into a data slug, and while he doesn’t seem the patriotic type, he’s still an Autobot. He’s only been on one side of the war, so most, if all all of his archive, is built from the framework of being surrounded by Autobot mindsets and propaganda. It would appear that this isn’t the first time Rewind’s done something like this, if he already has the upload time committed to memory down to the tens decimal. If he’d been asked to do this prior to the conclusion of the war- very likely, considering it ended a few months ago- what are the odds that he was asked to frame things a little more in favor of his own team? Pretty good, I’d think.

Guys, I don’t think Tailgate is having a good time with the history lesson.

Needless to say, any concern over Tailgate wanting to be a Decepticon is pretty soundly quashed after this.

Back over with the plague plotline, First Aid gives Ratchet the rundown on the symptoms they’ve run into at Delphi.

You fucker, you got that line from Wreckers: Declassified.

Delphi hasn’t been able to call for help, because even if they didn’t have their hands full of liquified robot, communications have been out since something went off and broke pretty much everything in the outpost, general health and well-being included. First Aid suspects a dirty bomb, curtesy of the DJD. The tour of the facility ends in the medical bay proper, where Ambulon is hard at work trying to keep folks alive.

Ratchet looks over the scene, and notes that the older patients in the ward aren’t crying their literal eyeballs out. Weird, that.

Ambulon shows off their super-secret patient, who is kept in shadow for the reader, to keep the suspense going for a bit longer. Mystery patient’s been in an “everlasting coma” since he got here, and while Ambulon and Pharma don’t think anything can be done, First Aid’s willing to get weird with it.

Earlier in the issue, it was mentioned that Ambulon didn’t think First Aid took any initiative. Turns out, First Aid does, and has, just not on things Ambulon agrees with.

It was at that point that Ratchet decided he rather liked First Aid.

Back with Tailgate, he’s returned to his room to confront Cyclonus, who’s busy doing something on the computer. What exactly isn’t revealed, and never will be.

Tailgate is really cross about the fact that Cyclonus let him walk around on a ship full of Autobots claiming he wanted to be a Decepticon. Of course, it’s not like Cyclonus knew he was going to be such a loudmouth about it, otherwise maybe he would have told him to maybe NOT do that, if only to prevent his life getting further muddied up by a war he wasn’t even around for.

Tailgate’s gotten really worked up over this, because that’s just how he is as a person, and even goes so far as to punch Cyclonus in the arm in his frustration. He apologizes almost immediately, but the bear’s already been poked, unfortunately.

Oh, honeybunches, you are going to be regretting that move for the next five years.

But not before the customary “pulling away from the one guy who’ll even talk to you because you don’t know how to properly react to anything anymore" thing.

Back on Messatine, we find out where Pharma got to- he’s been locked into the quarantine room by accident, and will remain there until all technopathogens are completely dead. This will take millions of years.

That seems like poor planning for such a room.

Or, at least, it would be, if Ambulon was still running the show.

How the fuck has Ambulon survived this long without dying of stupidity?

As Ratchet starts trying to get Pharma out of his glass case of emotion, Pipes is starting to not have so much fun on his first-ever field trip.

Yaaay, space adventure!

Ratchet warns Drift not to kill Pipes- repeatedly- and Drift manages to do that, though it looks a little dodgy for a second, as he bonks the little guy on the head and knocks him out. Ratchet’s managed to get Pharma out, and Pharma immediately runs for the prison cells, saying he’s figured it out.

Ambulon carries what’s left of Pipes back to the emergency ward, and Ratchet holds the little dude’s hand while they get him hooked up to some feeds. Drift starts bleeding from the eyes. Awesome.

Enter Pharma.

Today just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?

Turns out those two Decepticons from earlier got out of their cells somehow, and they’ve got guns. Things aren’t looking too good for the Autobots.

Well, I mean, if he says it’s fine, then I guess…

Yep, our mystery patient is none other than Fortress Maximus, warden of Garrus 9, victim of Overlord, and glorified lock-pick for the Aequitas chamber. He’s looking a lot better than the last time we saw him, in that he’s got some limbs attached to that torso of his, and also eyeballs. Good for him.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 4 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

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