#idiot teenagers can’t learn handshakes :

[grazziella]

if you ever wondered why the jets were falling apart this is why

#idiot teenagers can’t learn handshakes :/ #❈ — cause no one wants a fella with a social disease / * ooc. #my pinterest feed so so funny #tbd.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Optigami

For the first time this season, we're actually acknowledging what happened at the end of the last season. Of course, it's the thirteenth episode chronologically, so you can tell the writers really wanted to strike while the iron was hot.

Let's get into the ninth (chronologically the thirteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Optigami.

We start off with Nathalie recounting the events of “Miracle Queen” to Gabriel, where Chloe exposed the identities of the temp heroes, which is kind of odd considering they were both there. Then again, it's entirely possible Gabriel forgot what happened given we're literally halfway through the season chronologically. According to Nathalie, she created a Sentimonster the very next day to spy on the heroes. After a lot of surveillance by the Sentimonster, named Optigami, all Nathalie and Gabriel really found out was that the heroes were just regular teenagers who occasionally got a Miraculous from Ladybug without even learning her identity, all while we learn she continued to give Miraculous out to the heroes despite the risk to their safety.

Okay, a few questions here. First, why the hell didn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth or Mayura try something like this from the beginning? It took you two lucking out in finding out the identities of seven heroes to think about spying on your enemies? Second, Mayura created Optigami the next day? Wasn't she in a lot of pain as a result of using the Peacock for a whole season? At least when she created a Sentimonster in the New York special, it was set a vague amount of time after “Miracle Queen”. Third, Ladybug is seriously recruiting the same heroes again after the rules that she imposed onto Chloe? You know, the person who couldn't use the Bee Miraculous again because of the risk to her safety, and ultimately betrayed Ladybug because she hated the rule? Seriously, the video footage shows Ladybug recruiting Ryuko, someone whose identity Shadowmoth already knew before “Miracle Queen”, so this makes even less sense. If Chloe doesn't get her Miraculous after exposing her identity to the whole world, the same should apply to the other heroes too. If they wanted to make Chloe an exception, all they had to do was have Ladybug bench Queen Bee because she didn't trust Chloe in her civilian life. This just makes Ladybug come off as a hypocrite who serves to justify Astruc's warped mentality that Chloe doesn't deserve a Miraculous even though she lost hers for the same reason as the others.

Nathalie calls Optigami a failure, but Gabriel actually uses his brain for once and comes up with a plan to take out all of the temp heroes at once by putting them in a situation where Ladybug is forced to recruit one of them in order to stop an Akuma. He calls Audrey Bourgeois, a major fashion magazine writer and praises her idea to give a monthly award to a fashion icon, and Gabriel says “there's no better introduction than giving it to his son”, so I'm not sure if he told Audrey to give the award to Adrien, or if he already got the award and Gabriel was just capitalizing on the chance.

So we cut to Marinette and Alya hanging out in the former's room, and surprise, surprise, Marinette is gushing over Adrien. It isn't a love story if there's a single scene not talking about the love interest according to Astruc.

Yeah, despite not being on the list of targets, Marinette got a ticket to the award show because the writers weren't sure how else they could work her into the plot. The Kwamis ask if they can come along, forgetting about the fact that they need to be a secret or be with an owner (guessing Marinette learned her lesson after “Furious Fu”). I'm starting to think I was a little too harsh on Master Fu considering he managed to put up with these godlike idiots for 176 years.

Alya and Trixx, the Fox Kwami, bring up a decent point that now that Alya knows she's Ladybug, she can take a more active role in helping her as Rena Rouge if she had the Fox Miraculous full-time, while Marinette points out the fact that it's too risky for anyone but her to hand out Miraculous. This is brief, but I like this little disagreement here. While I think Marinette could have brought up the fact that Shadowmoth knows Alya's identity in her argument, both sides still make a good point, and this will come into play later on, for better or for worse.

So Marinette and Alya head out to the award party where they meet up with Adrien, Kagami, Luka, Kim, Max, and Nino, with Alya doing a secret handshake with him that I'm sure won't be important later on. We also get a hilarious scene of Alya once again trying to force Marinette into an elevator with Adrien with the explicit intent to have her get closet to Adrien, while she unsurprisingly freaks out, leading to some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick.

So much for Marinette growing after the second umbrella scene.

Optigami is set up, and Shadowmoth creates a Sentimonster of the man hosting the award ceremony, and takes the opportunity to do what we've all wanted to do since Audrey's first appearance in late 2018.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Gabriel Agreste. You're the real MVP of this episode.

So Shadowmoth sends out an Akuma to akumatize Audrey into his “magnum opus”, Style Queen, once again (Audrey is also implied to be willingly akumatized like Chloe in “Queen Banana”). And since the titular Sentimonster plays a big role in Shadowmoth's plan this episode, I think now's a good time to talk about Optigami.

Optigami has a simple design, a butterfly colored like Mayura, but I like the role it plays. It has the power to hide in any solid object and observe the environment like a camera Nathalie watches, all while Style Queen chases after the temp heroes and turns them into piles of gold dust. Whether that's because she's been powered up by Shadowmoth or because the animators can't afford to create new models of the characters as gold statues isn't clear. It still really shows the writers are taking advantage of the concept of Sentimonsters as support for Akumas outside of more muscle.

So Kagami tries to distract Style Queen while Adrien runs, and she is the first to be taken out. Chloe then tells Style Queen where Ladybug went, but she gets targeted because she laughed at her mother earlier, and then tries to use Zoe as a human shield before getting blasted. Oh, thank God. I thought Chloe was going to appear in an episode where the writers didn't remind the audience how much of a terrible person she is and anyone who supports her is just as bad.

Marinette and Adrien both run off to transform, but get into the same elevator together, which then gets broken thanks to Style Queen's interference. This leads to an interesting setup where neither of them can transform and hope their partner will save them, leading to some real tension. There's also thankfully little to no stammering from Marinette in these scenes. It's almost like the writers only have her struggle to talk with Adrien so they don't actually have to write scenes like this. Alya briefly teases Marinette for saying she's stuck in an elevator with Adrien before realizing she's trapped in an elevator with a civilian and can't transform.

After Max and Luka get taken out, Marinette calls a phone she set up near the Miracle Ball to call the Kwamis, pretending to talk to the fire department and secretly tells them to send Kaalki to help her, but Adrien sees Optigami spying on them in the elevator, so Marinette is forced to hang up. Marinette and Adrien are about to transform and reveal themselves to each other, but because neither of them are on the list and because Shadowmoth felt like actually being a decent father today, Optigami retreats with Style Queen, who then takes out Kim, leaving only Alya and Nino left.

Marinette tells Alya to call the Kwamis, but while she does so, she gets a call from Nino, who is soon taken out by Style Queen and... is replaced... by an... evil... doppelganger... The eighth one in four seasons...

The only question I have is how did Shadowmoth create two Sentimonsters in the same day? Did he recharge offscreen? Either way, he sends “Sentinino” after Alya to lure her out, but Kaalki arrives and portals her to Marinette's room, leading to the funniest joke of the episode.

Alya takes the Fox Miraculous and transforms into Rena Rouge and creates an illusion of Ladybug to distract Style Queen while she meets up with Marinette with the Bee Miraculous, but she decides to take the Turtle Miraculous even though Marinette didn't tell her to just to be safe.

Rena Rouge meets up with Sentinino and gives him the Turtle, alerting Shadowmoth to the fact that Alya may have a bigger role than he anticipated. Sentinino transforms into Carapace (or would a more accurate term be Sentipace?) while Optigami hides in the Turtle Miraculous, leading to another interesting conflict. If Style Queen gets Ladybug's Miraculous, Shadowmoth wins, but even if Ladybug wins, Sentipace can swoop in and steal Ladybug's Miraculous when her guard is down. This is David Xanatos levels of planning here.

Rena Rouge escorts Adrien out of the elevator via one of Kaalki's portals, and Marinette transforms into Ladybug before unifying with the Bee Miraculous into Ladybee.

Ignoring the creepy look on her face, I think Ladybee has a pretty good design. I think the black and gold go well with her suit, and the ponytail with the gold streaks is a nice touch. I'm not sure if it's referencing Queen Bee's design, but I like it, as well as the slight antennae on her head. I still prefer Dragonbug's design, but I can see why so many fans love this one too.

Ladybee is surprised Sentipace is there, but accepts his help anyway. Ladybee summons her Lucky Charm, a compact mirror, but when looking around, she doesn't see how to use the Lucky Charm with Sentipace as he isn't highlighted in her vision like certain objects/heroes that play a part in stopping an Akuma. Ladybee uses Venom, and with Sentipace's Shelter, manages to tank Style Queen's blasts and stun her before de-evilizing her.

Cat Noir tries to cataclysm the golden shield Style Queen placed around the building, but shows up too late, being surprised at the presence of Rena Rouge and Sentipace. He jokes about it, but this will somewhat come into play in future episodes.

Ladybug prepares to throw the compact mirror to use Miraculous Ladybug and fix the damage, but through the mirror, sees Nino fail to do the secret handshake with Alya. Ladybug pulls a John McClane and swings off the top of the building and tells Cat Noir to use his Cataclysm to destroy the Turtle Miraculous, releasing Optigami, and giving Nathalie a major headache. Shadowmoth undoes the creations of Optigami and Sentinino and retreats.

Alya is naturally upset that she screwed up and almost let Shadowmoth find out Ladybug's identity, but then, well...

Like with “Gang of Secrets”, I'm very mixed on this ending. Both Alya and Marinette make good points here. Alya knows she almost let Shadowmoth win, but Marinette points out how invaluable Alya was today and realizes how helpless she was doing a lot of things on her own. Even if Alya didn't give the Turtle Miraculous to Sentinino, Marinette still had to face the possibility of revealing herself to Adrien. Like it or not, she needs someone to help her more, and Alya is the only one able to fill that position.

The problem I have is that because of how Marinette phrases that sentence, it comes off like Alya is being rewarded for what happened this episode. I get she helped, but I just find it weird that Marinette doesn't feel a little uncomfortable trusting Alya more after going behind her back and almost screwing up the entire mission in the process. I think the scene could have worked if Marinette was a little more stern towards Alya and realized she had no choice but to give her the Fox, creating a little tension between the two as a result.

So the episode ends with a post-credits scene where Gabriel and Nathalie realize they need to focus more attention onto Alya due to her connection to Ladybug.

But yeah, this was honestly a really good episode. It's become my favorite this season.

The plot has a fair amount of suspense and tension, most of it derived from the very clever plan Shadowmoth has this time, taking full advantage of the repaired Peacock in order to make what was already a very powerful Akuma even more of a threat. There were jokes, but unlike in other episodes that focus on humiliating Marinette or interrupting the tension, they're well-placed. The same goes for the elevator scene. The writers easily could have made Marinette stammer all of her words around Adrien, but for once, they realized that they needed to have her actually interact with him in order to maintain the tension of the episode.

Granted, there are still some flaws, like Marinette really had no reason to be invited to the award ceremony. All they really had to do was have Adrien invite her himself, which would justify her eager reaction at the beginning. It's also strange that nobody brings up the fact that all of Adrien's friends who were invited were temp heroes. I've already gone over the problem with timeline at the beginning as well as the ending and I plan to talk about Rena Rouge's partnership with Ladybug next time.

Overall, this was still a really good episode. Even the evil doppelganger plotline had an interesting twist to it. What's the next episode about again? What? Another evil doppelganger of Nino?

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #ladybee #lady bee #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #alya cesaire #rena rouge #nino lahiffe #carapace #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b #zoe lee #vesperia #kagami tsurugi #ryuko #ryuuko #luka couffaine #viperion #max kante #pegasus #le chien kim #king monkey #roi singe #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth

[earthlostgirl]

This is probably the weirdest fic I've ever written. ha ha ha ha ha But I wanted to see them in that situation....

New, Old life

When Spike opened the door, Faye was sitting on the stool, drinking something steamy from a cup. She smiled when he held out a sunflower.

“What have you done?” she asked, putting the cup down on the table and looking at him skeptically.

“Don’t you know what day it is today?” Spike asked, approaching her and holding out the flower.

“Would I have to know?” she asked as she took it.

“It’s our anniversary, it’s been twenty years since we met.” Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in front of her, smiling.

“Twenty years? How old I am... I hate you for making me feel old.” Faye brought the flower closer to the face so she could smell it and smiled.

“You’re always so romantic.” Spike moved close and kissed her on the lips. “Are we alone?” he asked as he hiked her skirt up to her thighs.

“No,” Faye murmured, gently passing her hands down Spike’s back. “Vera’s in her room... with a boy.”

“What? Your sixteen-year-old daughter is in her room, alone, with a boy?”

“My daughter? She’s fifty-fifty yours...”

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Don’t be paranoid...”

“Paranoid? I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. I know very well what a teenager of that age thinks about girls... At her age I...”

“At her age, you had killed people. I don’t think they are comparable lives,” she interrupted him.

“I at least have memories of everything I did...”

“If she wants to sleep with that boy, she will wherever it is. I prefer it to be under my roof, so if she needs my help, I’ll be there to rip the balls off anyone who wants to go overboard with her,” he said, standing up. “But you’ve always preferred to shoot before you ask.”

Spike hated seeing that hurt look on her face. Over the years, he hadn’t learned to shut his fucking big mouth and stop saying things that hurt her when he got pissed.

He followed Faye into the room. Apologizing was another thing he hadn’t learned.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting on the bed.

“To get Jean from training.” Faye hadn’t learned to stop running away instead of facing problems, either.

“It’s two hours before she leaves,” he sighed, trying to remain calm.

“I know,” she replied harshly, as she was shoving things into the bag.

Spike set his eyes on the dresser. There was a little white box with a note on top. He walked over to look. It was a pregnancy test, on the note was written in Faye’s neat handwriting: “Dad?”

“Are you...?” Spike asked, showing her the package.

“I don’t know... I wanted to wait until you were here to find out, but since you’re an idiot,” Faye said, taking it out of his hands. “Now, fuck you.”

“Faye...” He made no move to stop her.

“Try not to kill the kid in front of your daughter. I don’t want you to traumatize her for life,” she snorted sarcastically.

She left the room without looking back, putting on her jacket and holding her car keys in her hand.

Spike just sat smoking in the kitchen, his eyes glued to the stairs leading upstairs. He heard a door open and laughing voice.

Vera came down the stairs, smiling. She was the spitting image of her mother; the same hair color, the same skin tone, she was tall and thin, she even had the same haughty mannerisms. She was followed by a boy, a 16-year-old teenager who was as awkward as a teenager could be, with messy hair and a little fuzz on his face.

Vera smiled in delight at the sight of him and hugged him.

“Why are you smoking?” she asked, pinning her brown eyes to him.

Spike shrugged and looked at the boy above her.

“Who is he?” Spike asked, looking at his daughter in a serious tone.

“Hello sir...” the boy stuttered nervously. “I’m Ricky.”

He nodded to him, and his daughter gave him a cheeky glance.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Vera shook the head, waving her long hair and placed her hands on the hips.

Spike held back a laugh as she pushed the boy in front of him.

“Want a beer, kid?” He asked, moving over to the cooler.

“I can’t drink alcohol... I’m a minor sir.”

Spike enjoyed making the boy nervous more than he had imagined.

“I didn’t ask you that,” he replied seriously.

“I... uh... I,” the boy didn’t know what to say or where to jump in, wondering if this was some kind of test he had to pass.

“Do you want one, sweetie?” Spike asked Vera, who smiled at him in disbelief with a hint of malice.

“That smile only works for your mother, so don’t even try it.” Spike smiled smoothly as he opened three beers and set them on the table. “If you think I don’t know you drink once in a while you’re very naïve.”

Vera took hers and raised it to her lips.

“I’ve only tried it,” she said, dropping her long eyelashes and putting on a sweet, girlish voice.

Spike raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he passed the other bottle of beer to Rick.

They sat on the couch, listening as Vera enthusiastically talked about her plans for the summer. Rick nodded, ready to follow her wherever she went.

A car horn blared down the street. Rick waved goodbye with a limp handshake, and Vera walked him to the door.

Spike sighed in exhaustion. She would be the one to break the boy’s heart, his little witch, beautiful and evil. The little boy looked up at her from the door with a goofy face and she blew him a kiss.

When he closed the door, Vera jumped onto the couch and snuggled up against him.

“You don’t like him at all, do you?” she said, taking the beer that her friend hadn’t even touched.

“You don’t like him either,” said Spike, taking the bottle from her hands and she pouted in disgust. “Don’t push it.”

She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch.

“Have you finished all your homework?” he asked, lighting a cigarette. She gave him a grim look.

“You smoke too much,” Vera said, crossing her legs on the couch, “I don’t know how mom can kiss you if you taste like a cigarette butt.”

“Your mother quit smoking when she got pregnant with you,” Spike smiled. “She smoked as much as I do. She kisses me because she wants to taste cigarettes, not because she loves me.” Spike joked.

“Well, you could have quit smoking for her, couldn’t you?” She smirked mischievously “Or is it you didn’t love me? Am I an unwanted daughter? Did I destroy your dreams of being a rock star?” Vera put her hand to her forehead and threw herself on top of him. She loved drama. “You were forced to raise a child...”

“A demon is what I raised,” Spike said, grabbing her waist and tickling her.

Vera burst out laughing, kicking as she tried to get rid of him.

“I’m going to call Rick,” she said when she got rid of him.

“He won’t even have made it home...”

“I miss him already...” she said as she hummed up the stairs.

Spike heard the street door opening and a little girl with her hair in a messy ponytail came running in, leaving a sports bag on the ground, jumped on him, and hugged him.

Jean had the same skin color as him. She was lanky and thin. Just like Vera, she had the same hair color as Faye, dark and straight. She had huge green eyes and the same charming smile as her father.

“I pulled off an incredible goal,” she said, sitting on his lap. “You should have seen it. I tackled one of the girls, I got stitches,” Jean said, pushing her bangs aside and showing him the wound. “I broke two of her teeth.”

“But it was training...” Spike looked at her, smiling as he examined the girl’s wound.

“I don’t know where she got that habit of fighting until the last bloody second, even if she gets hurt,” Faye said, throwing her jacket on the couch.

“It was amazing,” Jean said, jumping to her feet, “I ran all over the field, Mel passed me the ball, I grabbed it hard, Judy ran to me and...” She couldn’t stop talking, she was hysterical, she was ecstatic, her big green eyes were shining with happiness. “I plated her, bam! I head-butted her, jumped over her, and threw with all my heart into the net...”

Jean jumped onto the couch and flipped over.

“I’m starving,” she blurted as she bolted for the kitchen.

“I think Ed bit me when I was pregnant with her and she’s infected,” Faye sighed, dropping onto the couch.

She looked at the beer bottles and the cigarette butts in the ashtray, gave him a questioning look, and kissed him on the lips.

“How I missed it,” she muttered, running the tongue over her lips.

Spike leaned in to kiss her again, and she pulled away, smiling as she put her hand to his face.

“Dad,” Jean shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t reach the cookie jar.”

“Do you have to scream like a manic?” Vera spoke, stepping up behind her and lowering the boat. “There is no way to talk on the phone .”

“You talk on the phone all the time,” Jean replied. “I don’t know how you have things to tell.”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand...”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand,” she mimicked her, sticking her tongue out and showing the half-chewed cookie in her mouth. “Snob”

“What a disgusting brat.” Vera gave Jean a shove and headed for the living room. “Mom! Tell Jean to eat with her mouth closed.”

“Eat with her mouth closed, Jean,” Faye sighed, looking at Spike, who leaned back in the seat with his hands over his head, putting his feet up on the table.

“But Mom,” jean replied, sitting back in the easy chair. “Vera started it. She said I suck.”

“You showed me the food.”

“Snob!”

“Monster!”

“Oh god,” Faye complained, holding her hands to her forehead. “I should have abandoned you in a basket downstream...”

“Mama!” said the little girl indignantly, squatting down on the couch and wiggling like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

Jean was about to jump on Faye, but Spike stopped her in her tracks.

“Enough, both of you,” he added, slinging the girl over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes, while she kept bursting out laughing. “I’m sure you have better things to do than fight and annoy your mother and me.”

Spike put her down, and Jean pouted at him, which he endured stoically before sending her to her room. Vera mumbled an “I can’t wait to be old enough to leave home” and left, huffing down the stairs.

They were alone in the kitchen again. Spike was sitting on the stool, turning in on himself, holding the sunflower in one hand.

Faye looked up at him as she nibbled on a chocolate stick. He stopped and held out his hand to her. Faye hesitated for a second, but she took it, and he gently tugged and caught her between his legs.

“Are you not angry anymore?” he inquired, taking her hands and caressing them gently.

“I can’t be mad at you, you just wanted to protect your daughter. I’m sure you’d kill the little girl who put a gash on Jean.” Faye kissed him on the forehead. “You even stopped the little girl from jumping on me, you can’t help it.”

“Are we having a baby?” he asked, clasping his hands behind her back.

“Yes...” Faye leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m too old for this now.”

“Sure, you’re over a hundred years old,” he teased, stroking her hair.

“Spike...” she broke away, looking at him, annoyed. He caught her before she could take another step back.

“Do you think the chromosome gods will give us a boy this time? There are very few dicks in this house.” Spike rested his hands on Faye’s belly and moved closer to speak into her belly button. “Olive, Can you hear me? Can you develop a penis for me?”

“What a fool you are,” Faye told, running her hands through his hair.

“I’m in the minority...” Spike pulled her to him and hugged her by sliding his hands around her waist. “You can conspire against me... And murder me and eat at my corpse...”

“You’re the king of the house.” Faye kissed him on the hair and he lifted her by the waist, sitting her on top of him.

“Shall we keep it a secret for now?” Spike kissed her neck, and she wrapped her arms around him as she nodded her head. “The girls are going to go crazy.”

“This still terrifies me like the first day,” Faye whispered, hugging him. “I still have nightmares about the Syndicate...”

“I know, I sleep with you.” he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her nose. “I have them too, but we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she smiled frankly. “Happy anniversary, Spike.”

“Happy anniversary, Romani.”

by the way it's another girl

#cowboy bebop #spike x faye #kid #spike spiegel #fanfiction #a weird fanfic #just and old one that i just translated #faye valentine #spaye #spike having a lot of daughters is something I find very funny.

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Elisabeth & Noah in the origin world (2/?)

First date

He is not sure if he should text her or not.

On Monday, upon waking up with every ounce of alcohol finally off his bloodstream and after he has spent the entire Sunday recovering from the worst hangover he’s experienced since his college years, Noah is back on his reserved nature, the timid one, the one lacking the amount of whiskey-infused courage it takes for him to deal with matters revolving around human interaction, especially with women. He’s not a social outcast per se, but his confidence mostly accompanies him in the career-oriented side of his life.

It’s not like he’s not interested. He crossed the line of “interested” when he stooped to the lowest level possible, looking her up on Instagram, of all things, via Agnes’ account.

(His little sister has a long list of questions and he has a long list of brotherly favors that he promised to fulfill in exchange for her seven-digit password.)

She doesn’t have a vast presence on social media, a quality they apparently share. He keeps a long forgotten Facebook account and a professional LinkedIn one and acts blissfully ignorant towards any other platform that isn’t YouTube. Her Facebook account - oh yeah, he checked that one too - is a mix between personal and business, opinion posts about socio-politcal matters on the grounds of their country to the entirety of Europe to the endlessness of the globe and take-action events in regard to the causes she supports, occasionally interrupted by a reunion selfie with an old friend or a brunch date with her mom and her sister. That particular post redirected to some Instagram link, so, unwittingly, his curiosity was peaked.

Her Instagram account is colourful, vivid, filled with adventures and laughter. Just from an idle scroll, Elisabeth Doppler - Winden born, age twenty-four, Energy Engineer, Berlin based - can easily be perceived as someone that quite enjoys life. Her group of associates and friends seems endless and her gallery consists of photos of dinners with young professionals, pub-crawling with girlfriends, road tripping across Europe, Erasmus Programme memories, tree-planting projects, women’s rights marches, snorkelling, paragliding. Noah spends the whole Sunday afternoon feeling overwhelmed and in awe, tapping picture after picture, mesmerized by her lovely smile that adds a softer undertone to her busy bee of a life.

He finds it fascinating, her mindset and her lifestyle, but, at the same time, he fears that their personalities may clash, his more keeping-to-himself attitude the polar opposite to her seemingly outgoing one. Then, it’s also the age barrier. He thinks that thirty-two might be a little off-putting for someone in their early twenties, a decade that comes with a whole other set of expectations and milestones than the one he is currently in. The major problem, though - a chronic problem of his - is that he’s thinking too much.

Fortunately, that’s not a thing they have in common.

Elisabeth texts him on Monday morning, at 9.54 to be exact. He’s in the middle of a lecture, teaching History of Religion 101 to an auditorium filled with sleepy freshmen, when his phone screen lights up, its glow illuminating in the dimly lit room. It’s a simple “good morning” paired up with a smiling face emoji but it’s enough to cause his heart to race and his mind to short-circuit, leaving him reciting things off the projection screen without really registering what comes out of his mouth until the lesson is over. With sweaty hands and in the mist of internal panic laced with excitement, he texts her back at 10.38 an equally casual “hey, hope you’re having a good morning, too”. He beats himself up for not asking her anything the minute he presses send, like, how she’s doing, if she’s at work - literally anything, Noah, Jesus Christ, now she’ll think that you don’t care, nice work, you idiot - especially as the hours pass and there’s silence from her end. He spends the rest of the day drowning in miserable self-pity, checking his dead phone literally every minute, until there’s a new message from her, telling him that she had a very busy day at work and asking him how his day was.

(Thank God, because he was about to send her an embarrassing word vomit apologizing for having zero social skills whatsoever.)

They continue their back and forth texting for the rest of the week, casual conversations about their everyday lives turning into debates about the best places to eat and the best movies of all time to metaphysics and social justice that keep them up till the small hours of morning, Elisabeth sending him blowing-a-kiss face emoji’s for goodnight and Noah smiling like a silly teenager at his phone screen. Right in the middle of one of their more “serious” conversations, Elisabeth venting about income-based discrimination, Noah asks her out. It’s abrupt and totally irrelevant to the context of the rest of the bubbles that litter their personal chat at that moment but he can’t really help himself. She is a woman he wants - needs - to know more about, not through a screen, but in person, sit there and watch her express all the things she has in her brilliant mind.

They arrange to meet on Friday night, after she finishes work, since Noah has to attend a seminar in Dresden on the weekend and since both of them are too impatient to wait any longer. Noah arrives first at the bar she gave him directions to and decides on waiting for her outside but decides against smoking a cigarette, even though he’s itching to, out of habit and nerves. She rounds the corner barely five minutes later, strutting towards him in an electric blue pantsuit and a plaid maxi grey coat, her whole face brightening with a stunning smile when she notices him, and, just like that, everything else fades, his anxiety about their first official date, his mental fatigue after holding office hours, his insecurities, his worries and she is the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters.

A wave of panic washes over him momentarily, his inner perfectionist making a huge deal out of not having a clear plan of how to greet her. A handshake is too impersonal, a kiss too presumptuous. Ultimately, he attempts an awkward, one-arm kinda hug - which is ridiculous because a) he’s a freaking grown-up and b) her tongue has already been inside his mouth and he doesn’t recall his hands being particularly respectful the night of Jonas’ wedding, when she pushed him against a wall and stole his breath with a glorious kiss - an action she probably misconstrues as a leaning in and this results in them doing a clumsy dance right there on the pavement, but she giggles and her eyes shine with amusement, so his self-deprecating frown gives its place to a handsome smirk, when she moves closer to him and leaves a soft peck on his cheek, as a belated greeting. She smells of sensuous jasmine and intoxicating amber, her perfume aery but with a spicy twist that succeeds in stimulating all of his senses. He holds the door for her to enter and his hand lingers lightly on the small of her waist, as they make their way through the tables to the bar.

They settle on two empty barstools and order their signature drinks, Gin and Tonic and Whiskey on the Rocks. Elisabeth takes her phone out of her tote bag but before she gets to type anything, Noah holds her attention. He thinks for a moment and then makes his hands move, forming tentative gestures that lack any grace or flow but succeed in signing “It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”.

Elisabeth beams, impressed, her lips mouthing an excited “how?”. He just shrugs and shyly pulls out of his messenger bag a thick sign language book, a recent purchase of his which he’s been studying with every chance he got. Her whole face softens, touched by his sweet gesture, before she types on her phone.

That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you. Even though you shouldn’t have; apart from technology’s assistance, I’m pretty good at reading lips.

He uses his phone to reply. Yeah, I gathered that much. I just want to talk to you in your language.

The look that she gives him under her fluttering eyelashes is so tender and lovely that he can’t help but stare, a foolish grin plastered on his lips and a hot blush painted on his neck, creeping from the collar of his grey shirt.

They talk - type, to be exact, with the occasional mimic of a word or two - about everything and nothing, fast thumbs trying to keep up with their effortless conversation on the notifications’ section of their phones. He learns about her childhood in Winden, her hellish pranks to her older sister Franziska, her loving parents that separated when she was a preteen but never stopped caring about each other or being there for their daughters. She talks about her hometown friends and her honor roll high school experience, moving to Berlin to attend university and falling in love with the lively vibe of the city, getting her Master’s in Energy Engineering and recently landing her first job on the field at the Tiedemann Enterprises, a very prestige corporation in the industry of renewable energy. She’s still particularly excited about this, being part of a team of researchers thriving to improve energy efficiency based on an environmental friendly strategy.

Noah tells her about his memories as a young boy in Vechta, how he lost his mother when he was only six, due to complications while giving birth to his sister, how his father was never really in the picture after that tragic incident. How the local church and especially Sic Mundus, a church based organization for neglected children and troubled teens, contributed to his and Agnes’ well-being and education, helping him land a university scholarship and get a job, so he could afford moving his sister to Berlin, too, after he got his bachelor degree, and offering her a more stable living situation and a normal life. How, apparently, his aptitude for the humanities and his upbringing in a religious environment drove him to follow an academic career in religious studies, a field that he finds beyond interesting, especially its anthropology aspect.

Somewhere along the conversation, too absorbed into their own little world to register the fewer people in the bar and the clock ticking towards closing time, his hand, as if it has a mind of its own, slides slowly over the wooden top of the bar, her slender fingers meeting his hesitant approach halfway. They’re barely touching but it’s electrifying, the feeling of even an inch of his skin against her skin so exhilarating and powerful, like the impact of meteors colliding or the universe exploding into pieces. It feels like a Déjà vu, like a glitch in the Matrix, like they know each other from the past or recognize each other from their future. It’s a feeling both of them kept seeking, a feeling that they silently vow never to lose.

Noah pays for the drinks, despite her objections, and Elisabeth insists that, next time, the bill is on her. He smirks, a tad tipsy on the whiskey, a lot tipsy on her, and teases her that he must have done something right, because this is the first time a girl agrees on a second date with him this fast. She just shrugs, a cheeky smirk playing on her lip-glossed lips, as she types, if I left it up to you, we’d still be on the PG-13 “good morning” texts. He laughs, an effortless, loud laugh and he catches her staring - no, not staring, checking him out - the corner of her longing smile trapped between her teeth. He fights the insane urge to kiss her senseless right here in this empty bar with the bartender mentally plotting their death for keeping him past his shift.

He accompanies her to the U-Bahn station and his heart skips a heartbeat at the prospect of sharing ten more minutes with her, according to the information display over their heads. She wishes him to have fun in Dresden and he confesses that he wishes he could stay here, to spend the weekend with you, he wants to add but refrains, in fear of confessing too much too fast. Instead, he tells her that he had an amazing night and he’s so relieved and purely happy when she nods vigorously in agreement, her low ponytail bobbing lightly and her beautiful face radiating even under the harsh fluorescent light of the station. The atmosphere around them is suddenly very charged, their bodies gravitating towards each other, and their eyes engage in a stare off that speaks volumes and holds so much unresolved tension. He can hear the bright yellow train approaching and his breath quickens as he takes a brave step forward, invades her personal space, and his eyes declare defeat, falling to her lips. He’s the one to kiss her this time, a soft peck that turns into a needy battle of dominance when she melts into his arms and angles her face to kiss him more, deeper, hungry mouths dancing together in passion, his shoulders hunching over her smaller figure, his hands cradling her cheeks. Her own hands sneak under his coat and suit jacket, delivering a heavy caress over the material of his shirt before she closes her arms around his waist, Noah letting a trembling exhale into the kiss and his lips forming a lazy smirk against her giggling ones. Smugly, Elisabeth tugs lightly at his lower lip with her teeth, a naughty essence to the playful action, and this fuels another round of heated kissing, their bodies pushing and pulling, their heavy PDA a thing they’ll be embarrassed for in the morning. For tonight, though, they’re just two people getting drunk on each other in the middle of a train station, as if tomorrow will be the end of world and they’ll cease to exist.

When they pull back for air her lips are lipgloss-free and her eyelids, still closed, are fluttering over scarlet cheekbones. Noah has never witnessed a most beautiful sight in his life.

Elisabeth gets on the train with a dazed and dazzling smile, promising to text him when she arrives at her apartment. They refuse to let go of each other’s eyes until the train vanishes into the dark tunnel and Noah is left there, on the empty station, a finger reaching to his lips, not quite believing that the fruity taste of lipgloss that still lingers in his mouth or the woman whose lips left their trace behind are real and not a product of his wildest fantasies. There’s an extra hop in his steps as he walks up the stairs to catch the train to the opposite direction, boarding the vehicle at the last minute and sliding quickly on a seat, lovesick smile intact and a newfound feeling of contentment and thrill nested in his chest.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types, unable to wait any longer.

I get back early on Sunday. Would you like to have dinner with me?

#dark netflix #noah x elisabeth #elisabeth x noah #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #this turned out huge #but i have way too many feels to control myself #myedits #ogparadise

[kneamet]

Dependence (April 21, 1997)

Trigger Warning: smoking.

Summary: there were many charms in life. However, Tom Hiddleston, having tried the most forbidden ones, could no longer imagine his life without them. The rest for him was nonsense, not worth his attention. After all, in order to survive, he needs to find a dose, thanks to which he feels better, not paying attention to the other rabble that reigns around. He doesn't care about his mother, who brings men into the house; he doesn't care about his sisters, whom he envies; he doesn't care about the whole world. But soon his search for a new dose will turn into a search for a girl who has won a victory over his drug-addicted mind, absorbing him completely and occupying all his thoughts.

And he won't stop until he gets what he wants.

April 21, 1997

Mark is worried. Feelings pierce him. He is uneasy about what is happening. He doesn't understand why he feels so strange when he sees Tom. Why does his stomach start to prick when he sees him talking to girls from parallel classes? Why does he feel the best when he and Thomas discuss different topics, smoking cheap cigarettes behind the school, where no one goes.

Mark likes spending time with him. He feels calm and alone when they sit on the roof of an abandoned building, thinking only about where to get cheaper cigarettes. It is there that he suppresses all his negative emotions, feeling only peace and pleasure.

Sometimes he understands the fact that he is long staring at his best friend — looking at how his untidy white curls are developing in the wind; how long fingers squeeze a cigarette and bring it to such soft, tender, swollen lips. He want to tear out this stuff, throw it away and give in to the feeling of temptation. Pull this old leather jacket closer to him and, hugging him tightly, kiss him as if this is the only thing that matters in this mortal world.

Mark blinks a couple of times. He does not understand where such emotions come from in relation to Tom; where such thoughts associated with a kiss come from; where this strange feeling in his chest comes from.

Had he really fallen in love?

Had fallen in love with your best friend?

This can't be true. This is all just fiction. He's just not himself. Yes, exactly! He's just not in his right mind, being still not recovered from another yesterday's binge! He just got so drunk that he is not aware of his actions. Surely in a couple of minutes he will forget about it.

That should explain something, right? Isn't it?

"Do you want to fuck her, Pac?” Mickey's mocking voice is heard looking at his friend with a smirking expression. Is he really so eager to tease him? Oh, that Mickey. Mark sighs when he hears his nickname, and realizes that he has been looking at Joel for a long time. She just smiles at him unobtrusively, winking. The guy swallows, turning his attention to a friend who followed the main girl of the class with a long and hinting look.

Mark rolls his eyes. It's his style. Tackles to girls, and even in this way. Are they really only interested in just having sex and that's it? But what about the sweet romance that shows all that tender love that cannot be expressed through sex without obligations? Why isn't anyone talking about her? Why does everyone not care about romantic acts committed by people in the name of love?

"Shut up, Vider," the guy teases him, stretching his stiff neck, feeling something crunch. Mark takes a sharp breath, turning his head in the direction of his friend, who was leaning against the table.

Mickey grins, biting his lip. He would really enjoy having sex with her, taking into account the fact that he had quite a lot of sexual experience. Mark looks at him with some contempt, his mouth slightly open. He rests his head on his hands folded on the desk, closing his eyes from the bright light. He doesn't want to study so much.

The only thing Pinkman wants at the moment is to wait for the day when Tom finally gets out of this fucking long sick leave. He felt a little guilty, but he was doing a good job. He didn't even write them a single message. And how not to be offended after that.

And yet he doesn't understand himself. He can not understand his feelings that overtake and cover the whole brain, which prevent him from thinking sensibly. Mark wants to smooth Tom's fluffy and curly hair when he lies on his lap, smoking, in their small company of four people; he wants to pull him into a deep, long and tender kiss that will show love; he wants to show him the whole world! that is so insignificant in his beauty.

Mark is sure that as soon as Thomas enters the classroom, he will immediately rush at him with hugs.

He is sure that he will not be able to restrain himself from this suffocating despair associated with sudden feelings. It becomes uncomfortable.

"Vider, it's been a long time since we've seen each other!” there is a loud exclamation of a clear and bright voice that makes Mark's heart flutter. His eyes open, widening wide. Wasn't Tom supposed to be out of the hospital next week?

He sits up, seeing Mickey and Tom shake hands in a strong handshake. They smile at each other while the guy holds the red-and-bard backpack hanging from his shoulder with his free hand. Mark swallows a nonexistent saliva. This shirt suits him.

His friend's gaze shifts to him and Thomas' smile gets even wider as soon as he sees a person for whom he would definitely do a lot. Friendship is a serious matter and requires special attention from everyone.

”Hi, Tom," Pinkman has already cursed himself several times and considered himself an incorrigible idiot, knowing that he does not particularly like his name. He liked the nickname given to him by his friends much more than his own. He sees Tom roll his eyes, but there's nothing he can do about it.

Mark likes his name.

And he is genuinely perplexed when Thomas feels contempt for him.

"Tom?" Mickey delves into it again, getting up from a school wooden desk designed for two people. He adjusts his blue jeans, folding his arms over his chest, which makes his black T-shirt pull back. “What the fuck are you talking about, Pac? His name is Hiddles, and we've all forgotten this fucking name for a long time,” he pats the named guy on the shoulder, getting an understanding, with some admixture of cunning, smile.

Hiddleston nods to Mark, sitting down next to him in his seat. They have been sitting next to each other primary school and this can be called a habit. Each of them is confident in something different and they can trust each other.

Pinkman purses his bitten lower lip, starting to bite it with his front teeth. This is a slight pain, thanks to which he can calm down and accept his nerves. It can even be called pleasant.

Although, of course, cigarettes help to cope with this better.

Without waiting for it himself, while Tom takes out of the backpack lying on his lap and pulled to his chest, Mark moves closer to him, not daring to take the first step. Sighing softly, he swallows and puts his left arm around the guy's shoulders.

His movements are very clumsy and inexperienced. He doesn't know if Thomas will like this gesture of attention. Will he be pleased when he is hugged? Or will he just get mad at him by dropping out?

His head is filled with dark thoughts that he does not want to think about at all. He drives them away, as if putting an internal block.

Although doubts that have long been ingrained in the soul, still torment him.

Perhaps this was his most significant disadvantage.

He cannot realize himself and what he feels. He can not accept, as well as feel. It is difficult for him, but he does not tell anyone about it. Parents don't give a shit, and friends, for sure, too.

Mark can't tell anyone what's bothering him.

Mark just keeps everything to himself.

His eyes widen when he sees that Tom is smiling encouragingly and this gives him hope. Did he feel something for him, too? Did he also feel those inexplicable emotions when he saw him?

***

Mark loves to learn. He gets along well with most of all subjects, perfectly understanding where they will be needed in his future life-if there is one, of course — he knows many poems by heart and is a good a student.

He likes to learn new things.

And he genuinely doesn't understand Mickey.

He has known him for a long time and his dislike is not that not to learn, but not to learn something new at all. In his life, as far as the guy could judge, he was interested in only a few things — drugs, alcohol, smoking and, of course, girls.

The rest was unimportant to him.

Mark rolls his eyes when he sees that the laces of his shoes are untied. And why did Mickey even come up with such an idea related to running away from school? Why couldn't they just finish studies? There were only two lessons left until the end of the school day, but if the majority wanted it, then it definitely means that you need to do what you have decided.

But it's definitely his style. As if it wasn't possible to just wait. Mark's breathing is erratic and he realizes that he can no longer run. Fortunately, there was not much left to go to the place where Mickey wants to go.

Mark is not boring and not a nerd. He is not a nerd and not the kind of person who constantly whines about something that would contradict the will of others. He is just an ordinary teenager whose life is quite adequate, if you do not take into account his parents.

He opens his mouth when it becomes harder to breathe.

Mark stops. He sees that they have run to an abandoned building where they often gather. Almost no one goes here, so to organize a "secret lair" here, if we speak in a childish way, was quite a deliberate and good decision.

For several years, the most genuine legends have been composed about this house, connected with the death of a little boy and his sister, who were left unattended by their parents. They say that because of this, they stopped building this place with houses. In principle, it is logical why they chose this location-a small lake, fresh clean air, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, a gentrified part with a small square.

Why, it's just a paradise told in legends!

However, he was one until there was this unpleasant embarrassment with young children, which the authorities tried to hush up as soon as possible. Mark remembers that even apartments have become cheaper in this house since they were evicted from there. Needless to say, it did not bring any benefit. Probably even made the situation worse.

He sighs loudly when they stop, taking several large breaths abruptly, realizing that his breathing is fucking fucked at the moment. Now Mark just wants to leave everything, going home. He knows that his father is not at home, only his mother, who probably won't even pay attention to him.

”Why are you such sissies?" he can hear the mockery in Mickey's voice, who smiles, straightening up while the others try to recover. At such moments, Mark insanely wants to hit him.

”Shut up," moans Jim from the side, whose legs are giving way. Well, what the fuck was it necessary to run if the teacher doesn't care? Pinkman knows that she will just close her eyes, babbling to herself about "what kind of children have now!". And the whole class will be obliged to listen to this muttering, which has not given up to anyone, including the head himself.

The advantage of such moments was that they miss the lesson this way. But do not tell the teacher about this.

“I would never have thought that you, Sick, are such a weakling," he forces him. Mark is sure of it. And what is the use of this? They won't fight anyway, but they'll just talk in words, teasing each other.

Mark loves his friends. He is really happy to spend time with them, walking around promiscuously; he is happy to smoke with them those cheap cigarettes that they buy in a small shop near Tom's house, and where they will sell them to you at any age; he is happy... just enjoy their company.

However, recently, they have become increasingly infuriating to him.

Especially Mickey, whose head is likely to burst like a balloon from the ideas that he proposes to implement. Mark, in principle, is not against it, however, fucking, it's still kind of fucking to do this.

It's not scary, but he just don't want to.

Pinkman sniffs, looking at Tom, who is standing with his back against the wall painted with dirty drawings, holding a cigarette between his middle and index finger. His backpack is lying on the disgusting grass that has grown up to his shin, completely covering Mark's white sneakers. It seemed as if he was enjoying the circus and the jokes that were happening.

Although this was not new for them: Mickey always likes to cling to Jim, that he himself is not averse to answering somehow sarcastically, teasing the guy; Tom will start smoking another cigarette, and Mark, perplexed, will simply stand next to him, asking him for a cigarette and starting to discuss with him anything that first comes to mind. They will have time to discuss a lot — why the football team they supported didn't win this year; why GG Allin was such a fucking awesome, doing this on stage and why Iggy Pop is so cool; where will they go after school. It is quite possible that they will even talk about the arrangement of the house and what better materials to use, but this is for the extreme, if Mickey does not finish making fun of James.

“Can I?” Mark nods at the pack of Rothmans clutched in his left hand, to which the guy just shakes his head. He holds a cigarette between his teeth, opening it and presenting it to Pinkman.

Mark swallows, pulling out the offered one and, lighting it, takes a puff, which he did not wait for. So he smoked two cigarettes this morning, wanting to calm his nerves after another quarrel with his father on the topic of why he stopped going to church.

He grin, also leans against the brick wall. As if his father didn't give a damn about him and why he didn't go to that shitty church to confess to something he didn't fucking do. Fuck confessing at all, if you're still lying to that priest who's sitting in the booth next to you. And even more so, every passerby does fucking things every day, which don't even want to talk about after.

Mark exhales smoke, looking at Tom, whose gaze was directed at friends who were trying to find out who the humor and jokes are better. Does it matter? Unlikely.

Pinkman is focused. He swallows, not taking his thoughtful gaze from Thomas, who dusts off a cigarette and the ash falls on his black jeans.

Mark thinks that these jeans match perfectly with his white tucked-in shirt.

Mark thinks that he likes Tom's blue eyes, which look good-naturedly at the world, but are also capable of expressing cruelty.

Mark realizes that he is completely unaware of how he feels about his friend.

Mark feels like he's been looking at Tom for too long.

Pinkman blinks a couple of times, turning his gaze to the dirt track that leads to the garages, from where they logically fucking came. He can't sort himself out and understand. It's difficult and he just can't stand it all.

Mark has been thinking about the existence of his love for Tom for a long time. He suspects of its existence, although he wants to push everything off on the fact that he was drunk and the morning hangover played a fucking joke with him, in which there is not even a fraction of irony.

He takes another drag, feeling some of the flavors that he loves. Flavored cigarettes have recently appeared on sale in that small shop and, of course, every avid smoker expressed a desire to try something new. Many were happy with such an innovation, such as Mark, and someone, like Mickey, was opposed to it, as if completely denying their existence.

But Mark was willing to spend a lot just to get a taste of them again, as they sold out quite quickly. And far away, at least, if you take the places that he knew, it was too lazy to go.

“You looked like a faggot just now," the guy's fingers begin to press harder on the cigarette. It often fucks him up. Even too often. Especially when the guys notice him after some long glances directed at Tom, who is now nonchalantly watching what is happening.

His eyes were blurred, and his pupils were narrowed to madness. Has he already managed to get shoot up? When? He was always there for him when they were talking, launching into a shitty stupid debate about the new Judas Priest album.

Mark turns his attention to Mickey, who is leaning his shoulder against a tree. He looks defiantly, but as if he doesn't care at all what the guy might say in response to his remark.

Sometimes Mark regrets his friendship with Mickey.

However, after drinking, which Mickey's father — Walter, — so ardently and kindly offers them in his bar, he immediately forgets all the insults. He must admit that the beer there, called Foamies, is really good. They say this is true due to the fact that it interferes with Carling and Budweiser, although, fuck, who the fuck knows. It doesn't bother him, the main thing is that it's fucking delicious and fucking cheap.

"Shut the fuck up, Vider!”

There is laughter from his side, to which Mark just grins. He is angry at him, but he will still forgive him.

in parallel with the main love line, I enter a new one. write whether you liked it or not, since this chapter is one of my favorites. Oh and yes, as Mark - Ewan McGregor

[zacc-attacc]

Firstly - I really love good puns, so your username made my day xD

Then, for your request thing - would you maybe write a Sprace OneShot that plays in the canon era? Maybe some sort of friends-to-lovers thing?

Thanks :)

First of all, thank you for the request! And for the compliment, of course.

ANYWAYS, HISTORICAL SPRACE, HERE WE GO BABS.

Sweet-Talker- A Historical Sprace Fic

Word Count: 2k

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Period. Especially with a boy. I was Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn. Not some blithering idiot who brings flowers to some idiot boy halfway across New York. I had made a pledge, not only to myself but to the others. I was responsible for them. 

So why was I falling for a stupid blond Manhattan boy with an addiction to soggy cigars?

I still remember the first time I saw him-- on a pape I was selling to a regular buyer. It was just a black and white picture, which hardly did any justice to how handsome he was in color. But even among 20 or so other newsboys, I felt a flutter in my stomach when I looked into his eyes. 

Disgusting, I thought as I sold the paper. Is this what the boys were talking about? Sparks flying and all that sappy shit?

If I had been smart, I would’ve sold all my papes and kept my distance from the strike. From Cigar Boy. 

Brooklyn don’t get caught up in things that ain’t our deal, I reminded myself. 

But Race, as I learned later, tends to bring out the worst in me. So I did the dumb thing. I sold all but one of my papes (I couldn’t bring myself to just… Give him away like that. For what? A penny?) and ran to Manhattan. 

Where it was a full-blown war. Pulitzer had called in dozens of goons (but, of course, couldn’t be bothered to show up himself), an army of policemen, and the only cop the newsboys truly feared-- Snyder. The only man who had succeeded in locking up the two most resilient Newsies of New York- Jack Kelly, and yours truly. 

I watched in horror as bottles were thrown, teenage boys were hit by adults, even a smaller boy who needed a crutch to walk was beaten with his own crutch. And I knew I couldn’t do the smart thing, the Brooklyn thing ever again. Not for this.

I ran to join my brethren, letting myself give in to the adrenaline of a battle. Luckily for me, most people were too lost in the chaos to notice me. 

All except for one. 

As cops ran, chasing boys as if they were prey that they would likely never catch, who other than Cigar Boy walked over to me, spitting blood out of his mouth and extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Well, well, well, to whats do we owe the pleasure of Spot Conlon of Brooklyn?” He said, giving me a tired grin. He didn’t have a cigar between his lips, but he did have one sticking out of his pocket. I shook his hand, noticing that even after he had literally been beaten up for an hour plus, his handshake was firm. 

“Okay there, Sluggo, we’ll talk when you ain’t bleeding from the head,” I said gruffly, turning and starting to walk back towards Brooklyn. If I could convince the boys, we could come back later and tell Manhattan we were joining the strike. 

“The lodge is this was,” the boy pointed to the opposite direction of where I was heading. I gave a light laugh. 

“No, no. I’s best get goin’ so you’s can patch up.” 

“There ain’t no way I’s letting you walk halfway across New York after getting beaten up,” the boy protested, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the lodge. 

“I’ve been through worse,” I protested, attempting to dislodge my arm from his grasp. 

“Well, ya’int goin’ through that again. Now c’mon. We has some bandages back at the lodge for that cut of yours,” he said, gesturing to the deep cut in my upper arm. I sighed in defeat and started walking. 

“Just so you know… This is just to make sure yous don’t pass out in the streets on the way there,” I clarified. The boy just rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“For New York’s most feared Newsie, you sure is worried about someone you just met today.”

“I’m feared, but I an’t heartless, sweet-talker. I don’t want another life on my conscience.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. What kind of monster did he think I was? Race stopped walking. I looked up and saw a complex setup of fire escapes, rails, and a rooftop where a newsboy who could only be Jack Kelly was pacing.

“Fair enough. Well, we’s here… So I’s just gonna swing up, grab my stuff, I can meet you down here,” the boy said, grabbing onto some rungs of a fire escape and climbing up with surprising nimbleness. It was as if the battle had barely affected him. That, or he was still riding the adrenaline rush. 

“No, no. Take care of your boys. I won’t die,” I said, hearing the panic in my tone. If Jack saw me with no reinforcements, he’d start to think we were fully on board. And if Brooklyn wasn’t, and word got around that I had already fought… It wouldn’t be good. They would accuse me of being a traitor. I couldn’t risk that.

“Ey, no, that wasn’t part of our agreement!” he yelled as I walked away. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Next time, have me shake on it, sweet-talker!” I shouted back, turning around to see his impish grin. My muscles were screaming in protest from overuse, but I had to get home before dark. 

“The name’s Racetrack Higgins!” was the last I heard before breaking into a sprint. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And here we are now. Strike over, prices back, nobody dead, everyone happy.

Except for me. 

Because I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, but here it came. Striding down the hill with a cigar in its mouth.

I could feel the unease in the boys beside me. We weren’t used to soloing Newsboys in our area, barely after selling hours, no less. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I muttered to them, walking towards Race. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here,” I hissed, grabbing his shoulders and fake-shoving him to look like I was giving him a serious talking-to. He couldn’t know we knew each other. It had to look like we were fighting.

“Well, Conlon, I thought we’d had a moment there,” Race whisper-shouted back, shoving me as well. I lowered my voice to an even quieter tone. 

“Meet me in your alleyway after sundown.”

He looked at me, confusion on his face, but nodded numbly and ran away. 

I heaved a sigh and turned to go spin some fake tale about why he was there.

That boy is going to be the death of me.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Why’d you chase me out like that, Conlon?” Race asked, leaning against the brick wall of the Newsboy lodge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. 

I hated it. 

“Because, Higgins, the boys don’t like strange Manhattan Newsies on our turf,” I half-spat. How stupid could he get? Didn’t he understand what was at stake here?

“You’re mad at me,” he said, his eyes flashing with realization. 

“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered, starting to pace. This was a bad idea. Why did I keep letting myself come back to him? Why was I constantly subjecting myself to the one thing I couldn’t have?

“Why? I just wanted to see you again,” he protested, walking towards me. I turned around to face him, my nose practically touching his chin.

“‘Cause we ain’t supposed to be friends. The boys see you hangin’ around Brooklyn, they’ll think yous tryin’ to prove something. And you know what they do to boys that ain’t ours? They beat ‘em up. Then, they bring them to me. And I decide if they’s gets a real pounding. But do I have a choice? No! Once they’s decides yous getting beat, my say hardly matters. If I randomly tell them to let someone go, I’m considered soft. Then we both get beat. Do you see what they’ve done to some boys? I ain’t letting that happen to you, Race! I’m not patching up your wounds because I couldn’t control-”

“Spot.,” Race cut me off. I froze. It was the first time he had used my full name. 

“What?” I asked bitterly. I noticed my eyes were burning. Why were they burning? What was this hellish sensation?

I felt something warm trickle down my face. 

Oh. My. God. I was crying. Crying! I hadn’t cried in four years! All about some idiot boy who had lovely eyes and blond hair and was empathetic and made me genuinely laugh and feel safe for the first time in years-

Race stepped forward, crushing the distance between us in one stride (damn tall people), and then… Hugged me. 

I hadn’t been really hugged in seven years, since I had made it to Brooklyn. Well, I had received bro hugs. Light ‘ey, whaddup’ hugs. But this… This was the type of hug that I hadn’t received since my parents had died. The type of hug that shields you from the outside world, that makes you feel like an atomic bomb could go off and they could protect you from it. 

It was so strange, so human. I hadn’t been treated like a real person for so long.

“It’s really like that, huh,” Race whispered, stroking my back. I felt goosebumps appear on my skin. How much feeling had I forced myself to miss out on? 

“It’s just… A lot. I mean… I’ve always known I would give my life for those boys, they’re my everything. But… I don’t know if they would for me. I don’t even know how much they truly respect me. I can’t even say if they’d respect this new rule I’ve been thinking of putting in place,” I said, not moving from my place in Race’s grasp. 

“And what would that be?” Race muttered, rocking back and forth. It was… nice. 

“No beating up on Racetrack Higgins ‘cause he deserves the world,” I said, my voice still muffled in his shirt. He chuckled. 

“I hardly deserve the world… But… Could I have you?” there was this caution in his voice, so different from the constant suave tone he took on while talking with me. But, then again, I of all people was sobbing into a boy’s chest, so this night turned out to be the night of all the unthinkable. 

“I don’t know if that’s what you really want, but… You can have me, sweet-talker,” I said, tipping up my head and meeting his lips in a kiss. 

It wasn’t sudden, or brash like most would’ve thought our first kiss would be like. No, it was slow and sweet. Because even if our relationship was loud and chaotic, we could take pieces of it as slow as we wanted. 

And now, I can say that my sweet-talkers lips are just as sweet as his words.

A/N: Thank y’all so much for reading! if you have any sort of prompts, pop on over to my asks! Love y’all! <3 

#newsies #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #historical #newsies the broadway musical #fanfiction #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #sprace #racetrack higgins X spot conlon #strike #newsies fanfiction #sprace fanfiction #dice writes

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai Chapter 13

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 5651

Chapter notes: This has got some nice bits...but it’s also got some pretty good angst at the end. It will all be OK <3

+++++++++

“So, I was thinking,” Jimin began, leaning against the door frame as you finished your mascara, peering up at his reflection. “There’s this farmers market going on, on 5th and Waller, and I’ve heard really good things about this Greek gyro stand there. Let’s go try some.”

“You hate trying new food.” You frowned, peering over your shoulder at him and he huffed, coming to stand behind you, hands kneading into your shoulders.

“Not all the time,” he whined, “Come on. We both have the evening off, I thought it might be fun to go do this together. Tomorrow is the last night and you work so let’s go now.”

“Fine.” You replied, standing and dusting off your jeans. “But food is on you.”

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted, kissing your cheek and grabbing your hand. “Don’t even bother getting your purse, I’ll take care of everything.”

The market was within walking distance of your apartment so the two of you made your way leisurely towards 5th and Waller, chatting absentmindedly as the early evening breeze swept through your hair.

The evening was pleasant, the sun drooping low on the horizon. The hair at the nape of your neck was warm with perspiration and you tugged at the bottom of your shirt to fan yourself. The market came into view, colorful tented booths lining the street. The first stand caught your eye and you navigated Jimin towards it, arm linked through his.

“Wow, look at this dress! It’s super cute. What do you think?” You held the sunflower yellow up against your body and Jimin looked you up and down, nodding.

“You look like spring vomited all over you.”

“That’s my favorite look.” You hummed, turning to the vender and inquiring after the price. After Jimin had paid (because he’d foolishly insisted that he’d take care of everything) you took the bag you were handed and linked your arm back through his.

“Y/N?” Someone inquired from behind you and both you and Jimin turned around. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, eyes landing on the dark mop of hair you’d never imagined you’d see outside of work. Now, of course, you realized that was foolish. You lived in the same city, naturally it was a possibility.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sharper than you’d meant.

“I live in this neighborhood,” Jungkook said, eyebrow raised at you. He glanced at your arm, thread through the arm of your boyfriend, before turning his gaze toward him. “You must be Jimin.”

“Ah, yes, I see my reputation precedes me. You are?”

“I’m Dr.-”

“Kim!” You said loudly and both Jimin and Jungkook turned to blink owlishly at you. “This is Dr. Kim.”

Jungkook looked back at Jimin, smiling tightly before extending his hand. “Taehyung Kim. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, Taehyung!” Jimin grinned, “Y/N tells me you’re a really gifted pathologist.”

“Ah, she shouldn’t have.” Jungkook crooned, switching his gaze to you and you smiled, tense.

Laughing, you squeezed Jimin’s forearm nervously. “He really is great, but honey, we’ve really gotta get going or we’ll miss the gyros. I’m sure Taehyung has somewhere to be too.”

“Actually, I was heading to the gyro stand myself.” Jungkook smiled, “I’ve heard really good things about the quality of their meat.”

“Well then, please, join us. I would love to hear how Y/N behaves at work.”

You were dying, Jimin dragging you along by his side as the three of you resumed your walk further into the market. “So, remind me what you do for work,” Jungkook said, “I know Y/N has told me before, but I’m afraid I have forgotten.”

“I’m a divorce attorney at Swanson and Heath.”

“Ah, must be a difficult business.”

“No more difficult than being a doctor, I imagine. Though I’m not often faced with life or death.”

Jungkook nodded, dodging a lady yelling at her little boy off to the side of the stands, hair tousled and looking like he’d been rolling in the dirt. “They’re difficult in different ways, that’s for sure. Do you see many soulmates in your office?”

You tried not to squeeze Jimin’s bicep in your stress. You glanced over at Jungkook who looked the picture of curious innocence and tried not to glare.

“I can’t say we see a lot, but we have seen a couple in the five years that I’ve been there. It’s not unheard of, but it is pretty rare.”

“Guess there’s something to be said for the soulmate attachment.” Jungkook said; nonchalant.

Jimin shrugged, your arm raising with the motion. “I guess if you buy into that type of thing.”

Jungkook looked between the two of you, smile quirking at the corner of his lips. “I’m a big believer in soulmates; always have been. I think, like every relationship, it takes some work, but I’m willing to put in the work.”

You frowned, following Jimin around the corner and you could see the gyro stand come into view, line long, but likely worth it.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?” Jimin asked, just as the three of you stepped into the line and stopped. You looked at Jungkook, eyes wide as you tried to communicate to him how brutally you would strangle him if he outed you.

Jungkook smiled sadly, shaking his head. “Ah, life hasn’t given us the opportunity to really connect yet. I’m hopeful for the future.”

“Well I’m rooting for you.”

“I appreciate that.” Jungkook grinned and you just wanted to shrivel up and disappear. If only Jimin knew what he was rooting for.

“So, how’d you hear about this market?” Jimin asked.

“I actually only live about a block away so I’ve been seeing the posters around for the last week and it got me interested. I’m pretty new to the area,” at your sharp, panicked expression, he backtracked, “this neighborhood, I mean, and so I thought it would be a good idea.”

“Ah, did you move recently?”

Jungkook nodded, “into this neighborhood, yeah. It’s been a pretty positive move so far. Much nicer apartment than my last.”

You could see the line Jungkook was toeing, trying not to outright lie about everything and you felt a little bad. You were the one who’d called him by the name of another colleague, but you weren’t ready to tell Jimin yet. You just knew he wouldn’t be happy.

“So, have you been seeing anyone? While you wait for your soulmate?” Jimin asked, cheeks pinched at the thought. He really did hate the idea of soulmates and everything they represented, but he was too nice a guy to mock other people’s dreams and ambitions. At least not to their face.

“No,” Jungkook shook his head, “not really. I dated casually in college but nothing every really stuck and eventually I just realized that I already had someone special that I was willing to work for.” He tapped his wrist, looking up at you and your eyes locked, heart beating anxiously against your rib cage.

In a dark corner somewhere inside you, where you’d locked that same dream away, it leapt eagerly, beating against the doors of its prison. You had wanted that too…maybe you still did.

The line moved forward and you switched your gaze away from the heat of his intensity, watching as a couple walked past you with their recently purchased gyro. Your mouth watered a little.

“So, you’re a romantic?” Jimin asked and before you could stop yourself, you were scoffing.

“Yeah, when he was a kid, he used to think he’d hear a bell when he met his soulmate. It’s from an anime or something.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in surprise. “Did you know Taehyung as a kid?” Jimin asked, “I thought you said you met at the hospital.”

Internally kicking yourself, you tried your best to smile. “That’s just something he’s told me before. These kinds of conversations come up sometimes.”

“I guess.” Jimin nodded and you could see Jungkook’s struggle not to laugh.

“Yeah, I was a bit of a nerd as a kid.” He chuckled, “Never really grew out of the romantic side, although I was kind of an idiot for a few years. You know how teenagers are.”

Jimin laughed, nodding. “Yeah, there was a week straight in elementary school where we learned about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and I was convinced that, that was my calling, literally dressed up as a knight every day for a month.”

You burst out laughing, griping his arm tight. “No way! You never told me that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “not exactly my proudest moment. Didn’t really think that was the story to try and woo you with.”

“Fair enough.” You grinned.

It was your turn in line so you and Jimin both stepped forward, glancing over the menu quickly before making your selections and paying. You stepped off to the side, laying your head against Jimin’s shoulder and waiting for your food to be ready.

Jungkook came to stand beside the two of you once again, striking up conversation with Jimin as you linked your fingers with the later, playing with the knuckles on his hand to distract yourself. This was a very weird situation; to be trapped in the center of a conversation between your boyfriend and you’re your soulmate. You were really grateful that so far Jungkook hadn’t said anything.

After spending the next hour weaving your way through booths and chatting in your small group, Jimin expressed his interest in returning home. Tomorrow was officially the weekend and after a really early morning and long day at the office he was about ready to collapse.

“Well it was really nice to meet you, Jimin.” Jungkook smiled, extending his hand for a handshake.

“Likewise, Taehyung.”

As Jimin and you began to move away from him, you glanced over your shoulder at Jungkook who waved you a small goodbye. “Hold on.” You said softly to Jimin and he stopped with a nod.

You walked over to Jungkook pausing as you scanned his face carefully. “Thank you, Jungkook.” You whispered. “I’m sorry you had to lie; I just haven’t felt ready to tell him yet that…well that you’re back in my life. I promise I’ll tell him later. I just don’t want him to leave me. I love him.”

Jungkook nodded, his face a careful mask over his emotions and you waved softly, backing away. After walking back to Jimin and moving towards home again you glanced back one more time to find Jungkook still standing there, watching as you rounded the corner.

  Saturdays were one of your least favorite shifts to work (aside from the full moon because that crap was real) for all the obvious reasons, but also you were typically working 12-hour shifts and today was no different. It was 6 hours in and you were already tired.

Jungkook’s welcome party had started an hour ago and even though you’d had opportunities, you hadn’t been brave enough to go in yet. You’d seen his parents through the doorway and had been tempted to go say hello…but then what? Stand there awkwardly while you all thought the same thing? Standing next to your soulmate but not doing anything about it. No thanks.

The intensity of the shame was too much to bear.

You were stood by the nursing desk, trying to kill some extra time by flipping through the charts of one of your patients when Lizzy caught you.

“There you are!” She called and you stood up straight, smiling over your shoulder at her. “What are you doing out there? There’s free food in the break room, you know. They have French fries, Y/N, French fries!”

You chuckled rolling your eyes and leaning your elbows against the counter as you turned to face her. “Careful now, you just might start a stampede with your volume.”

“Come on, let’s go eat.” Lizzy said, threading her arm through yours and you balked at the idea, attempting to pull your arm away but she clung tight.

“I can’t, I’m busy.” You lied and Lizzy’s face darkened.

“Really? Busy reading Mrs. Chapelman’s chart for the 6th time in an hour? I’ve been watching you, Y/N.”

You huffed a sigh, tugging at your arm again and this time Lizzy relinquished her hold. “Well that’s not creepy.” You muttered, “I’m just not really feeling hungry.”

“Then come socialize.”

“Or social.”

Lizzy crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, what is going on with you? You barely know Dr. Jeon, why are you acting like this? It’s kind of childish.”

You frowned over at your friend, fingers tapping at the desk behind you. “You don’t even know what happened between us or anything so that’s pretty rich.”

“Yeah, because you won’t tell me anything!” Lizzy fumed, “it hasn’t been from lack of trying on my part. He’s a really nice guy so I really don’t get this grudge you seem to have against him.”

“If I go in there, can we stop talking about Jungkook?” You sighed with a rolled of your eyes. Lizzy examined you carefully and you fought the urge to fidget under her gaze.

“First name basis, huh?”

“Oh my gosh, Lizzy!” You laughed. “Seriously. I’ll go in if we stop talking about him.”

“Fine,” she sniffed, grabbing your wrist, “but at some point, you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on. I’ve been pretty patient, but you know I’m a nosy s.o.b and you haven’t been sharing your gossip.”

Just as the two of you stepped into the room Lizzy’s pager beeped and she looked down at it, groaning. “I’ve gotta go, but you need to at least go say hi!” She insisted, pointing her finger at you.

She stomped her way out the door and you tried to carefully follow after before anyone else could see you, but it was too late. Jungkook’s eyes skimmed the room, landing on you and he grinned, calling your name and waving his hand over his head. His parents stood beside him, dressed in simple but classy dress clothes and you made your way towards them, Mrs. Jeon holding her arms open for you.

“Y/N!” She cooed, pulling you into her embrace, “how are you? It’s been so long since we’ve seen you!”

You hugged Mr. and Mrs. Jeon before taking the drink Jungkook handed you and smiling at his parents. “Wow, it really has been so long. Like 9 years, right? Can you believe it?”

“You should come visit your parents more often.” Mrs. Jeon scolded and you nodded, embarrassed.

“You’re right, I haven’t been out that way in too long. Just seems like there’s always an emergency that needs attending to here.”

You all chuckled and Mr. Jeon wrapped his arm around your shoulders again, squeezing. “How have you been? What have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good; just working mostly. Trying to find that work life balance.”

“Are you excited for your sister’s wedding? It’s coming up really soon, just over two months, right?”

“That’s right!” You smiled, one hand sliding into the pocket of your scrubs and you took a sip of your drink. It was fruity and light; maybe passionfruit. “Two months and one week officially. Ella called me this morning to threaten my life if I don’t wear the shoes she’s ordered for me.”

Jungkook laughed and you smiled up at him. “That sounds like something she’d say.”

“Well then you’d better wear the shoes.” Mrs. Jeon chuckled, taking a bite of her food. “You should get some, by the way,” she said, pointing down at her plate, “They did not skimp on taste.”

Jungkook motioned for you to walk passed him and you bowed your head in thanks, moving towards the table with him right behind you. “How was the rest of your night last night?” He asked, dropping a couple drumsticks on his plate and scanning the rest of the table for what he wanted next.

You grabbed a plate yourself, heading straight for the fried rice, allowing the grumbling in your stomach to make decisions for you. “It was good; very casual. We ordered in some dessert, binge watched a few episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and then went to bed early.”

“On a Friday night?” He chuckled and you turned to him, smiling.

“Well Jimin stayed up a little later than me working on one of his cases, but I have a 12 hour shift today so I wanted to be well rested.”

“Fair enough. Glad I have today off.”

“Don’t rub it in.” You complained and he grinned. You stood by the table as you ate; time was limited so you wanted to shove as much in as you could while you could.

“Is Jimin coming as your plus one to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, chewing on one of the drumsticks on his plate and you looked up at him, nodding.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless something crazy comes up at work, of course, but that’s doubtful.”

“I bet your family is really excited to see you. Has it really been 9 years since you’ve been back home?”

“Well, no,” you shook your head, “just 9 years since I’ve happened to see your parents. I’ve definitely been back home but it’s always been when they were out of town or schedules just didn’t match up.”

“Yeah, they’re out of town a lot,” he agreed, grabbing a roll from the pile on the table, “That’s my dream for retirement.”

“To travel?” You asked, looking up at him and he nodded.

“Yeah, everywhere I can get to. I wanna see the whole world. What about you? Are you interested in travel?”

Jungkook’s parents were talking to Dr. Kim a few feet away and you watched them for a moment in thought. You wondered what they thought about all of this. Jungkook’s job, how far he’s come, this hospital, the fact that you worked here…just you in general. You’d never felt like your relationship with them suffered, but you knew, even if they didn’t say it, that they wanted you and Jungkook to be together.

Sometimes…when you weren’t paying attention to how your thoughts strayed, you wished that it could be that simple. That old wounds would heal and maybe some how things would work out. Life never worked how you thought it would, though.

“I mean, yeah, definitely.” You nodded, turning back to look at Jungkook. His hair was pushed back and away from his face and you could see that he had a mild undercut. You wondered if that was new. “Who doesn’t want to see the world? If only money allowed.”

“I’m a big believer in the fact that it’s not money that holds us back, more like lack of time and the will to make the sacrifices needed to save. One time, in college, my parents told me that they were going to go visit family in Korea in the spring. I only had about 5 months to save so I literally stopped spending money on things that weren’t necessary and saved a ton. It just took a lot of dedication.”

“Doesn’t that take some fun out of life, though? What if I want to go to lunch?” You grinned and he smiled back.

“Depends where your priorities lie, I suppose. I was willing to put off a few every day activities for 2 weeks of adventure. It was pretty worth it in my books.”

You sighed, taking a large sip of your drink and Jungkook watched your throat bob as he waited to hear what was on your mind. “Do you ever take a break from being obnoxiously good at all things?” You teased and he grinned, shrugging.

“There’s no rest for the brilliant.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes and smacking his arm. “You’re so full of yourself.” Just then your pager beeped and you frowned, throwing away your empty plate. “Duty calls. I’m gonna go say goodbye to your parents.”

Jungkook nodded and you made you way over to bid your goodbyes before heading back out into the hallway and over to the labor ward. They were a little short tonight and needed someone to administer an epidural.

You had a cesarean section in an hour anyway so it was probably better to stay close to the area. Someone calling your name made you pause and you turned to find Jungkook jogging towards you. “Hey, sorry, I know you’re busy. My parents are leaving back home tomorrow night and they were wondering if you had any free time tomorrow, they want to take you out to eat.”

“Just me and your parents?” You asked, eyebrow raised and he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair and looking down at the ground.

“Well, no, I’d be there too.”

You scratched at your pant leg in thought, “Well, I’m working tomorrow night and into Monday morning so I could really only do something in the morning or early afternoon.”

“What about brunch? Would you be available for that?” He suggested, eyebrows raised.

“Sure, I think I can swing brunch,” You shrugged, “I’ve really gotta run, though.”

“Well how can I get a hold of you to tell you the details?” He asked as you began to move away and you stopped.

You looked around before grabbing a marker from the nurse’s desk next to you and reaching for his hand, scribbling your number down in his palm. “There,” you looked up at him, lips quirking up. “Problem solved.”

You placed the marker back in its place before nodding and turning around, walking around the corner and away from the man who had now made a habit of making your heart race.

  When your shift was over you made your way wearily to your car, chucking your bag into the passenger seat and turning the key in the ignition; the car whirring to life noisily. It was only 7:15 but you’d been working for 12 hours straight and right now, you thought your feet might actually fall off.

The drive home was quiet. No music to disturb, rush hour long over. The quiet was nice; peaceful after a day of emotional turmoil and emergency surgeries. You enjoyed your drives home; like a reset of your emotional state, allowing you to breathe and feel human again. At least until the next shift.

Sometimes working in medicine, you did feel like a robot. It could become all too easy to switch off your emotions, especially in the cases when someone died in your care. Having to tell families that someone they’d trusted you with was gone…it was honestly the worst part of your job. All the monitoring and work in surgery was daunting, yes, but it usually paid off with a healthy person at the end.

But sometimes it didn’t.

Those moments made you bleed red, like somehow you’d died instead, lost a piece of your soul with the person you couldn’t protect. You’d seen many really good doctors just switch off; self-preservation, as it were. You understood it; that need to protect your own heart. It was tempting, sometimes, to want to switch off and just become robotic. Get the job done and don’t lose any of yourself in the process.

That’s not how it worked, though. In a choice like that, you always lost more of yourself when you chose to stop feeling. Choosing to embrace the emotion, you liked to believe it made you a more empathetic person. You wanted to grieve with those who were grieving; show them that they weren’t alone.

It was draining, though.

After parking your car and switching off the engine, you slid your bag back over your shoulder and made your way towards the elevator. You locked your car from over your shoulder.

The hallway was relatively quiet this evening, which was nice. Usually you could hear your neighbors trying to corral their two young children into their nighttime routine. Whatever it was, the kids hated it and you got to hear about it every night. You smiled at the thought, slipping your key into the lock of your front door and making your way into the apartment.

The house was quiet but the lights were on. “Jimin?” You called, making your way towards the living room.

He sat on the couch, eyes trained down on the floor and something about his silence was earie. Something felt…off.

“So, something really interesting happened today.” Jimin said, lips pursed as he picked at the fluff of one of your couch cushions. From the look on his face, it seemed like that something wasn’t a good thing.

“Oh?” You said, fingers griping tightly at the strap of your satchel “What happened?”

“I met a man today, at the store, we got chatting and we figured out that you both work together. His name was Taehyung Kim. You know what’s particularly interesting?” You heart plummeted as he looked up at you, face ridged from his emotion. “He looked nothing like the Taehyung Kim I met.”

There was silence for what felt like forever, a sharp stillness as Jimin watched you carefully, gauging your reaction.

“Who did I meet last night, Y/N?” He asked and you couldn’t help the tears as they welled in your eyes. “Who was that?”

He stood and your arm went limp, your bag sliding from your shoulder and onto the floor. “It was Jungkook.” You whispered.

“Who?” Jimin asked, voice sharp and you felt a tear slip over and onto your cheek.

“Jungkook.”

“How long has he been back?” The stone in his voice was terrifying.

“It’s been three weeks.” You mumbled, mouth wet with emotion.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin snapped, pacing across the room angrily, “for weeks you’ve been working with him and you never said a word!”

“I’m sorry!” You cried, “I really didn’t want to worry you. There’s nothing going on between us, I swear, we’re just coworkers. You know how the soulmates thing works, he and I are always going to have our lives revolve around each other.”

“Do you want to be with him?” He asked tersely.

“No!” You insisted, coming to stand in front of him, gripping his forearms.

“Does he want to be with you?” He asked softly.

You paused, not really sure of the answer. While he hadn’t exactly expressed his interest in words directly to you, his actions seemed to indicate that, that might be something on his mind. Your silence was all Jimin needed.

“Great.” Jimin replied sourly, “I guess this is it then, right? Gonna leave me for your soulmate?”

“No!” You balked, pulling him to you as he tried to turn away, “Jimin, you know I don’t believe in the soulmate thing. Just because his name is on my wrist doesn’t mean he suddenly adds value to my life; he never has. I don’t want to be with him, I want to be with you. I love you.”

Jimin frowned and your heart stuttered slightly in your chest; he almost looked…guilty. “I’ve gotta get some air.” He muttered, turning and storming from the apartment before you could stop him.

  It had been three hours since Jimin had left, insisting he needed air. You were beginning to think he’d gone to a friend’s house when suddenly the keys in the lock roused your attention. You watched from your spot at the kitchen table as Jimin walked in, dropping his keys and his jacket on the console table and running his hands along his jeans before shoving them in fists into his pockets.

“Are you ok?” You asked softly, clutching tighter to your mug. Jimin took a deep breath, walking slowly into the kitchen but pausing in the doorway. Something wasn’t right.

“We need to talk.” He said, leaning against the door jam and your heart seized in your chest. You motioned for him to take the seat beside you and he moved slowly, sliding down onto the chair and folding his hands in front of him on the table. “I haven’t been 100% honest with you.” He said, gaze trained on the divots of the oak table you were both sitting at. Your stomach rolled uncomfortably but you waited for him to continue. “I tried to fight it for a while, tried to practice what I preach…but I’ve reached a point where I realize I just can’t anymore.”

“Tried to fight what?” You whispered. You were terrified. You’d heard this story before and it didn’t end well for you.

“I met Molly.” Jimin mumbled sadly, glancing up at you and you could feel your heart shatter. 8 years together, a lifetime of future plans already made suddenly evaporated.

“Ok.” You murmured hoarsely. You could feel the tears already pricking at your eyes. It wasn’t fair, what had you ever done to deserve this sort of heart break? Each guy you’d dated who’d insisted he didn’t believe in soulmates always seemed to change their tune once they’d met them. It was never ending disappointment.

“You remember that crazy couple that’s been going through my firm to get a divorce? Always screaming and asking for emergency meetings? Turns out the wife’s maiden name is Fisher.”

Molly Fisher. It was burned into your mind along with the skin of Jimin’s wrist, a constant reminder that he was never really yours to begin with…just like the name on your own wrist was a reminder that in the end, you weren’t really any bodies. It hurt so badly. You weren’t equipped to handle this sort of pain; how could you just pretend the last 8 years hadn’t happened? How could you watch the love of your life leave you for no other reason than the fact that the universe deemed it so?

"I thought you didn't believe in soulmates?" You mumbled. Your mouth felt heavy with emotion and tears were streaming down your cheeks.

"I didn't." Jimin sighed, "Until I met mine. I don't know how Jungkook did it, knowing you for so long and just giving you up. I've only known Molly three weeks and I can't imagine trying to breath without her."

You couldn't help the sob that escaped you and Jimin's bottom lip quivered at the sound. "I'm so sorry." He choked.

You nodded soundlessly, trying to regain your composure. “I know you are.”

“I never meant for this to happen!” Jimin cried, reaching out and taking your hand in his own. “I love you; you know I love you...but I can’t deny that it’s different. The way I feel about you and the way I feel about her are…” he paused at the trembling of your bottom lip and he looked down at your hands, sniffing, “it’s just something I can’t really ignore anymore.”

“I understand.” You said, standing and wiping at your tear stained cheeks, sniffing noisily as you tried to stop the wave of emotion that was overcoming you. “You should probably go, though, I don’t think your soulmate would like you being here with me.” You walked towards the living room, heart seizing as you heard Jimin cry louder.

“What do you want me to do?” He sobbed, standing and coming to hover at the kitchen door, “what am I supposed to do in this situation? Just tell me and I’ll do it!” He looked half out of his mind and in that moment, though your heart was still bleeding in the center of your chest, you felt immense pity for this man that you loved. He was torn between two horrifyingly difficult choices. Stay with the woman he was in love with and deny the pull to his soulmate, or give you up and follow his destiny with a woman he already loved so much more than he could express? You could already see that intense love on his face, the one they always talked about. No matter what he did, someone was going to get hurt.

And it looked like it was going to be you.

“You should go to her.” You mumbled, “I can’t keep you…I have to believe that I love you enough to let you go.”

“Don’t say that.” Jimin frowned, “I don’t want you to let me go.”

“But you want to be with Molly.” You said it as though it were a question, though you knew it was also fact. Jimin’s frown deepened because he couldn’t deny it. “You can’t have us both, Jimin, it’s greedy and not fair. I’m not willing to share you so you have to choose.”

Jimin stared at you in silence and you nodded, pursing your lips. “I’m going to stay with a friend tonight. You can get your stuff together and do whatever. We’ll sort out the lease on this apartment later. Right now, I just really need to go.”

“Y/N!” He called as you yanked open the door. You turned to look at him over your shoulder and he sighed, eyes bloodshot with tears. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” You whispered, “Goodbye, Jimin.”

 The evening was surprisingly cool for the time of year; though the summer had come and gone, the days were still warm and sticky. You wished you’d brought your jacket but there was no way you were going back to the apartment now. You needed time to breathe and Jimin needed time to pack.

You felt like your heart was splintering all over again at the thought of him. You needed comfort. Food, you needed food. Your favorite diner was just around the corner and you picked up your steps, making your way through the door with a jingle of the bell and you smiled meekly at the hostess as she greeted you.

“Table for one?” She smiled and you nodded, following after her. She led you to your favorite table, pushed back against the wall and with a view out into the city. Leaving you with the menu and a promise to bring you a cup of hot chocolate pronto, you sighed, pushing your nose deep into the menu and scanning for something that would help you feel less miserable.

Maybe pancakes.

The sound of someone sliding into the vinyl seat across from you roused your attention and you looked up to find Jungkook, doe eyes wide and smiling as he surveyed you. He held in his hand a coffee mug and you eyed it wearily.

“Coffee at 10:30pm on a Saturday?” You asked and his smile deepened.

“Decaf.” When you said nothing he continued, “So what brings you here so late?”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, setting your menu down heavily, “do you need something?”

“I just thought you could use some company.” He replied and you frowned.

  “Well, no offense, but I’ve had a pretty terrible night and you are kind of the last person I’d seek comfort from.”

You felt bad, Jungkook actually looked a little hurt and you closed your eyes, rubbing at them in frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just had a really bad night.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asked carefully and you sighed again, staring down at the menu.

“Not really.” You shrugged.

“Where’s Jimin tonight?” Jungkook asked. You knew he meant well, was trying to distract you from your thoughts…if only he’d known how poor that conversation starter was.

“At home packing, I presume.” You muttered weakly.

“Packing?” You could hear Jungkook’s discomfort.

“It would be weird to continue to live with one another after breaking up.” You said, feigning a casual air you most certainly did not feel.

“I’m so sorry.” Jungkook mumbled, and really, he did look very sorry, which was more comforting than it should have been.

“That’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess…well, sometimes.” You tried not to look at him, but you could see him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, fingers tapping against his porcelain mug. It was silent for a while before the waitress came, delivering Jungkook’s food and your drink before promising to be back with your food soon.

“Want a fry?” Jungkook asked, pushing his plate towards you and you smiled.

“Sure.” You took a fry from his plate, chewing on the end of it and watching as he took a bite of his burger.

“Look,” he said after he’d swallowed his mouthful and chased it down with a sip of his coffee, “I know we’re not exactly…close, or what not, but if you need a place to stay, I’ve got a spare room, you’re more than welcome to stay the night.”

“That’s very generous of you,” you smiled, “but I’m OK. I’ll just call a friend and ask to spend the night. Beside aren’t your parents with you?”

“No, they wanted to stay in a hotel.” He said, “Are you sure, though? I really won’t bother you. My place isn’t too far away and the guest room has its own bathroom.”

“Thank you, Jungkook, really. I just think, considering our history, it’s probably not the best idea.”

“Can we put history aside for one night?” He asked softly, “I just want to help you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll get through this.”

“I know you will.” He replied confidently, “you’re strong, stronger than anyone I know. You’re passionate, intelligent, and kind. It’s not a question of whether you’ll get through it but whether you’ll let people who genuinely care about you help you.”

“And you would consider yourself one of those people?” You questioned, thanking the waitress as she dropped off your pancakes.

“Look, Y/N, I was 18 years old when I made that choice. I was scared and made a rash decision but it doesn’t mean that I never cared. I’ve done a poor job of showing it, but I’ve cared about you my entire life. Please let me help you.”

You chewed on your pancakes slowly as you considered him. Maybe you were being unfair, still holding this grudge against him. The both of you had been just barely 18 and there had been a lot of sudden changes. You weren’t ready to think of him in the context of falling in love, and you probably never would be…but perhaps you could be friends.

Sighing you nodded, “OK. Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll be back in my apartment, though.”

“Yes, of course!” He beamed and you couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Here it is.” Jungkook said softly, flicking on the lights at the front entrance and ushering you through. It was simply furnished, with clean lines and warm tones. It was similar in size to your own apartment, but with a more open plan style. “Let me show you the guest room.”

He led you down a separate hallway, pushing open the door on your right. “It’s nothing, fancy,” he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but there’s blankets and pillows, an en suite, and the mattress is pretty comfortable.”

Simple grey’s and browns showcased the room perfectly and you smiled. “It’s great,” you said softly, “thank you.”

“I suppose you don’t have a tooth brush or pajamas, huh?” At the shake of your head he raised one finger, walking quickly back out of the room and you listened to the shuffling sounds at the end of the hallway. “Here,” he said, returning with a towel, a new tooth brush, and a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “The clothes are washed and clean; I hope they fit. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You smiled, taking the small pile from him and nodding, “thanks, Jungkook.”

After he’d left the room you closed the door, changing into the pajamas provided and going to brush your teeth and wash your face. The shirt was a little too baggy and the shorts sagged on your hips, but you were happy to have clothes to sleep in; you didn’t really fancy sleeping in your jeans or even worse, your underwear. Not with Jungkook around, anyway.

After you’d finished preparing for bed you decided you wanted a glass of water to help you settle down. Stepping back into the hallway you padded slowly towards the kitchen in search of a cup. You hoped Jungkook had retreated to his room but those hopes were quickly dashed as you found him sitting at the kitchen Island, medical book opened across the countertop and laptop attached at the fingers.

He looked up at you in surprise before sitting up straight. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you need me to turn off the lights? I didn’t realize they reached all the way to the bedroom.” He made a move to stand but you motioned for him to sit and he slowly complied.

“No, you’re fine, I actually just wanted a glass of water before bed.”

“Oh, of course. Here, let me get that for you.” He said, pushing off the stool he’d been sat on.

“It’s really not necessary,” you insisted as he rounded the counter, “you’ve already been very kind to me, you can just point me to the cups.”

“Nonsense.” He smiled, pulling a glass from a cupboard above your head and moving to the fridge to get some water. “You’re my guest, let me take care of you. Go ahead and sit down.”

You moved reluctantly to the bar stool next to his, taking a seat and waiting for him to return with your drink. “Thank you.” You said, softly, as he slid the cup into your hands. “So, what are you working on?” You asked, setting your cup down on the counter after a careful sip.

“Just brushing up.” He smiled. “There’s a lot to remember and it’s all kind of overwhelming sometimes.”

You nodded, staring down into your mug. “Yeah, I remember being really intimidated when I first started. Sometimes I still feel a little overwhelmed if it’s a complicated case or something. We walk a fine line between life and death and it’s hard not knowing if you’re being delicate enough.”

“That’s exactly it! That’s why I wanted to be a surgeon, though. Knowing that I can do something to make people’s lives better. Some of the people who end up on that table are going to be having the worst moment of their life and I have the power to make a positive impact. It makes my heart race just thinking about it.”

“Sounds like you chose the right profession.” You smiled, looking over at him and he blushed, bowing his head down into his chest.

“I hope I can make a good doctor.”

“Jungkook…you’re already a good doctor. The fact that you care so much, means something. It’s not easy to look into the faces of the families whose loved ones have died on our tables. There’s going to be times when you just want to give up, but as long as you keep trying and caring the way you do right now, you’ll be successful.”

He smiled, bashful, staring down at the keys on his laptop, fingers tapping gently in thought. “Thanks Y/N, that’s mean a lot…especially coming from you.” He looked up at you and you felt like your heart might seize right in your chest. “You know, since you’re such a good doctor.” He stuttered and you nodded, taking a gulp of water from your cup and standing.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I should probably get to bed now, it’s…” You sighed, “It’s been a long day.”

Jungkook nodded and you lifted your glass at him in a salute before turning around and walking back into the guest bedroom.

++++

Wow, thank you so much for reading! I'm sorry this one was sad, but it was necessary. After all, this is a Jungkook story, is it not? ;)

Let me know what you think <3

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

Copyright © 2018 by taeken-my-heart. All rights reserved.

#btsbookclub #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

[stuffedfoxwiththewifipassword]

Please Don’t Leave Me (Sammy and John)

Warnings: Major character death, mentioned smut

John didn’t know what he expected when Sammy came along on the Summer Camp Mission. He stood by the Wave-rider door, the counselor outfit he had been forced to wear extremely uncomfortable against his skin.

“John!” Sammy laughed, hopping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe we’re going to a summer camp!!”

John laughed, wounding his arms around Sammy’s legs and holding her against his back. “Bug infested ranches filled with horny teenagers.” He hummed, “Don’t see the appeal, luv.”

Sam ruffled his hair, tugging at the blond locks before kissing his head. “Oh cmon, a whole summer to get away? Nothing but you, the woods, and a bunch of potential friends??” She rested her cheek against his hair. “It was my favorite part about being a kid..”

John sighed, rocking around with the angel latched to his back. “Though, the poor counselors had to endure those ‘get away summers in the woods’ with these..” He pulled uncomfortably on his collar, “Uniforms.”

Sammy kissed the back of his head, “Don’t be a knob, Johnny.” Sam noticed the tie, “And for god sake loose the tie, hon!”

“You may take my coat,” John groaned, “But you’ll never take my tie!”

John stood at the entrance of the camp, Sammy standing next to him. John took a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, popping it into his mouth. “John, no!” Sammy snagged the cig from his lips, tucking it into his pocket. “This is a summer camp, not the backyard of a high-school!”

John groaned, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Angel...” He leaned over and snuck a cheeky kiss. “One time, for the kids.”

Sammy hugged his arm, “Attaboy, John!” She kissed his cheek, “My brave boy, going into war without his precious cigarettes!”

“Oh shut up, luv, or I’ll make you...” He swooped in, and right before the snogging could continue, the rest of the crew strolled up.

“A-are these uniforms necessary?” Ava asked, looking uncomfortable in the blue polo shirt and light tan shorts.

Sammy glanced at Ava, and whistled “Girl, you look badass!!”

“Cmon, Gideon made these for us!” Ray smiled, “The official Camp Ogawa Counselor uniforms!”

“What are you guys doing just standing around?!” Sam jumped, taking every last bit of strength in her not to grab onto John. John noticed, and easily slipped his hand into hers.

Sara, who was just catching up, smiled, “Hi, we’re the new camp counselors! Sorry to show up unannounced..”

The old lady sneered, “Well, Freckles, I’m Paula Cooper. I’m the director here.” She glanced at John and Sammy’s joined hands, rolling her eyes, “Welcome to Camp Ogawa, where intermingling between counselors is strictly forbidden.” Sam glanced at John, and the two slowly took a step away from each other. Paula sighed, “Chad Stephens’ll show ya around. CHAD!”

A boy ran over. He looked a little older than Sammy (Her being 140 and looking 24), with brown hair and a perfectly chiseled face. His shirt was snug around his chest and arms, and Sammy couldn’t help a glance. “What’s up?”

The camp director must’ve felt the same. “Chad, you marbled cut of prime beef... Give the new counselors a tour!”

“Cool.” He turned to the group, locking eyes with Sam. With a grin, Chad winked, “Lets bounce over this way!” He started to lead Ava, Ray, Sara, and Sammy down the path. John rolled his eyes, following a second later. Sam could hear him talking to Ava, but couldn’t make out much of their conversation.

Chad on the other hand, stopped abruptly, making the angel bump into him. John practically almost jumped out of his sneakers to strangle the lad. “Oh, sorry.” Chad grinned, “As everyone can see, Camp Ogawa is a miserable place. Paula runs it like a POW camp...” His smile widened, if that was possible. “NOT!” That sent Chad and Ray into giggles.

“Oh god...” Sara muttered, “A 90′s ‘not’ joke...”

Ray sighed, “It’s like comic comfort food...”

Chad noticed something, and grinned widely, “Couldn’t help but admire your lanyard!” He said to Ray. “Make it yourself?”

“Oh..Yeah, thank you!” Ray said, “Along with 21 other merit badged I also went on to get certification in nuclear science and dentistry.”

“Oh snap!” Chad laughed, “Got some competition for coolest counselor this year!” He turned to Sam, “What about you? Got any special skills?”

John cut in, “Sammy’s very creative.” He motioned to her leather bracelet, which had gems sewn into it for protection, “She made that herself!”

“Oh,” Chad smiled, “Artistic...Fantastic, the girls in your cabin’ll love you.” He clapped, “Anyways, lets get you all assigned to your cabins! It’ll be a heck of a summer.”

As the others marched on, John stayed back with Sammy. The angel crossed her arms, “What the hell was that, John?”

“Lad’s clearly flirtin’ with ya.” John deadpanned, putting his hands in his pockets, “Was only being polite and not telling him to piss off.”

“That was not nice, John.” Sammy rolled her eyes, “Cmon, lets go before the others get suspicious.”

She didn’t hold his hand on the way.

The girl’s cabins were a surprisingly fun place to be. Sam had gotten assigned to the same cabin as Sara and Ava. “Whats up, Franklin cabin?!” Sara went around, giving the girls high-fives. The girls cheered, laughing happily. “I am Sara, this is Ava, and the short haired one is Sammy!” Sammy waved cheerfully next to a stone frozen Ava. “We are your camp counselors! Now, I was thinking...We need a secret handshake.”

The whole cabin murmured with agreement. “Something cool, that only we know!” Ava pulled Sara aside, and Sammy was dragged into the fun.

One girl pulled her aside, “Hi, I’m Sophie!” She smiled, “You’re counselor Sam?”

“Please,” Sammy said, engaging in making a handshake while chatting, “Call me Sammy.”

“Sammy,” Sophie smiled, “I like that!”

“Thanks...” Sam sighed, “I was named after my uncle Samuel. He changed his name, sadly, so my mother wanted to keep the name in the family. Where’d you get your name from?”

Sophie sighed, “My grandma..”

“Ok, listen up ladies!” Ava called out, “Change of plan. Today we’re going to celebrate your first day of camp by using safety and discipline.”

“Who hurt you?” Sammy muttered.

Ava just growled at her. “Now, when I blow this whistle, I want you to run to your assigned bunks.” She blew the whistle, the entire cabin racing to their beds in fear.

Sammy just stood there in shock, willing her wings not to jump out. “Again...Who hurt you as a child?!”

When the night rolled around, Sam couldn’t help but go see John. She missed the blond bloke, and was desperate for his hugs. John must’ve felt the same, because half way between their cabins the two bumped into each other.

“John.” Sam sighed.

“Sammy...” The warlock smiled, “H...How are you, luv?”

sam shrugged, “Ava’s running our cabin like a military bunk.” She leaned against him, smiling widely as his arms circled her waist.

“Hmm...” John hummed, kissing her forehead. “Ray’s running our cabin like a bloody Cub Scout leader.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sammy brought him in, kissing the warlock softly. Softly slowly melted into roughly, hands gripping at each others uniforms. They pulled away, “John, we’re in the middle of a camp ground surrounded by kids...” Her hand caressed his cheek, pants leaving both their lips.

“Oh, they’ll bloody learn it all in about a year,” John grinned wolfishly, “Let’s just give ‘em a head-start if the little bastards catch us.”

“Ok.” The angel pulled John back in, and in a few moments the two dropped to the ground by the camp-fire area.

Sam sat on a bench with John, the two holding hands and smiling like idiots as children raced all around them. “Oh if only they knew what they were running on...” John joked.

“Ooohhh, now I wanna tell them...” Sammy grinned, “You evil little bastard...” John spotted Ray, and with a gentle kiss on Sam’s cheek the warlock walked over to see his cabin mate. Sara stomped up to Sam, looking pissed.

“Where were you last night?” She demanded.

“Uh...With John...” Sammy blinked, “Why?”

Sara dragged her up, and watched up with the boys and Ava. “One of the girls in our cabin is missing.”

“What? Who?” Sammy strode next to John, their fingers intertwining.

Sadly, the angel was ignored as the group approached John’s salt circle he had made around the came. “Obviously theres something wrong with John’s booby trap.” Ray suggested, seeing the slight dent in the circle.

John scoffed, “You off your trolly, mate?!” He snapped, “My spell was designed to keep the monsters from gettin’ in, not kids from gettin’ out!”

“Maybe they snuck out?” Sara suggested.

“Why would they have snuck out?” Ava asked, dumbfounded by the possibility.

“To make out, duh!” Sara filled, “Like Sam snuck out last night to make out with Constantine.”

“We may have done a bit more than a good ol’ fashioned snog, luv.” John grinned, Sara’s face scrunching in disgust. “Lets go notify the camp director, yeah?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE NOT SENDING A SEARCH PARTY AFTER THEM?!” Sammy practically screamed at the camp director.

Paula didn’t back down, “They’re perfectly fine. This happens every year!”

John stood back from the scene, knowing full well not to mess with a pissed off angel. Especially his angel. But he couldn’t help a grin at Sam’s response. “Oh, so you loose kids every year? What do you tell their parents?!”

“They always come back,” The director waved it off, “Sooner or later they’ll get hungry and come crawling back for food.” She glared at Sam, “Now go out there and do some counseling!”

Sam groaned, turning on her heel and storming past the Legends with a furious look in her eyes. “Sam,” John called, catching up with her, “Where ya goin’ luv?”

Sammy turned on him, snapping, “To find those kids!”

“No!” he gently grabbed her wrist, “It’s to dangerous, Sam. Your wing isn’t healed fully and you can’t fly if you need--”

She pulled her hand from his grasp, and sneered, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, Mr. Constantine.” She could see the hurt in his eyes, but she didn’t stop, “So back off...If you won’t help me find those kids, I don’t need you.” And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

Leaving a very heartbroken John in her wake.

John started to worry when the sun started to rise the next day and Sammy hadn’t returned. He and Ray walked in the woods, holding up one of John’s many magical totems to find the missing kids.

And Sam.

John wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost Sammy. Dez had been a hard hit to his heart, but Sammy had patched it up, making it twice as strong. He loved her, more than anything. “How are we gong to find the kids with this dangly thingy?” Ray asked, snapping John from his trance.

“You know, this ritual usually works best when someone isn’t yammerin’ in my ear hole...” John snarled in warning.

“If you wanna find the kids, gotta do it the old fashioned--”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT SOME BLOODY KIDS!!!” John roared, getting into Ray’s personal space and pushing him. “I CARE ABOUT SAM...I need silence...” He backed up, “I need to find her...Please,” He bit his lip, “Let me find her.”

“Why do you care so much about finding S?” Ray shrugged, looking down at his compass, “She’s an angel, she can handle herself.”

John grabbed his stupid compass, chucking it into the woods. “Now you listen here, Raymond...” He growled, “I know Sam can handle herself. Oooh believe me I know. But I...Care for her. Deeply...So stop your dilly-dallying and lets find the angel, yeah?”

The two marched into the woods, and came across something...Disturbing. Goopy skin. John leaned down, gently touching the goop before wiping the goop on the ground. “Left behind by the creature.”

“Who sheds its skin after eating the kids?” Ray tilted his head, “What kind of monster are we looking for?”

“The answer to that,” John took out a book from his coat, “Is in this book.” He handed it off to Ray, who flipped through the pages whilst John inspected the skin.

A second later, there’s a ding as Ray puts everyone on the coms on the channel, “Guys, we might’ve ID’ed our monster. It’s a Shtriga.”

Shtriga. No. No no no... John grabbed the book, “A-a Shrtiga feeds off the life-force of children..They eat angel life-forces like golden liquid to.”

“Angels?!” He heard Sara yelp over the coms, “That means...”

John began to panic, “We need to find Sammy. Now.” The warlock raced off, leaving Ray to catch up on his own.

John searched the woods well into the night. “Shritga’s lair can’t be to far...” He said to Ray absently.

“John.” The scientist stopped him, holding up a pretty blue feather in the light of his flash-light. “Isn’t this...”

“Sam’s feather.” John sighed, “She must’ve tried to fly away from the Shtriga...Bloody brilliantly stupid angel...” He cut his finger, letting the blood drip onto the feather. He recited a spell, taking the feather and lighting it with his lighter. As expected, the blue fluff combusted, a spark flying around. “Ah, Will-o the Wisp. Little bugger to lead us to my luv.”

“Your luv?” Ray questioned, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I knew you two were a thing!!”

“Shut your mouth.” John snapped, rushing after the wisp as it darted away.

An old witches hut. Of course. John slowly creaked open the door, peering in wearily. “Sam?”

“No more feathers...You’d thing she’d struggle all the way here. Leave a trail for us.” Ray said, walking over to the cloth covered crates. Grabbing the edge of one, both men were frightened when a little girl gasped. “A-are we to late?!” Ray panicked, grabbing all the cloths to reveal the lost kids.

“No.” John sighed, “Their all tip-top...”

“C-c-counselor John...” One of the boys whimpered, “T-theres one more.”

John kneeled to be face to face with the lad, and let out a shaky breath. “Ok, do you know where the monster put the other one?”

“In the back...She was really pale...” The boy whimpered.

John let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank you so much, lad!” He raced around the back, “Sam?!” He jogged forward, looking around when he tripped on something. He looked down, and quickly started to dig into the rubble.

A wing. Bright colors blending against each-other. “Sam!” He yelled, tossing trash and planks aside. “Sammy!!” Panting, he pulled the rest of her out of the pile, her wings limp as John held her close to his chest.

Her face was ghostly pale, and John franticly searched for her pulse. “Cmon...Cmon Sammy...Come back to me, Sam! Come back to Johnny...” He kissed her forehead. Sammy didn’t respond. “Sam...PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!”

He screamed, holding her head to his chest as he begged and begged. “I can’t loose you to...”

“John...” Sam croaked, her eyes barely opened. Her wings shifted, gently tracing his back as sobs racked his body. “Johnny, I got you...”

John sniffled, “You’re gonna make it.” He brushed one of her hair’s behind her ear, “Just gotta hold on a little longer for Johnny...” Another kiss was pressed against her temple, “Little longer, My Angel...”

Her head lulled to the side, and in the dark John couldn’t make out the change in her wing’s colors. “Jo..n....I....Lov....You...”

John rested his forehead against hers, “I love you to, Sam...” He noticed how she fell limp against him, her eyes dull to the world. “Sam.”

“SAM?!”

#john constantine #Episode spinoff #Sammy Morningstar #Death

[petri808]

Charmed Affliction

Lol, this was a HW assignment but I might as well post it here too :). 4500 words

FT Next Gen main characters of parents Gajeel/Levy (Sage Redfox) and Mira/Laxus (Isla Dreyar), with Erza/Jellal’s child (Andesine Fernandez) in a smaller role; Nashi Dragneel is mentioned.  For pictures of the kids, please go to @petrischronicles, more character background and synopsis check out the AO3 link :)

“Just think about it, Isla, you don’t have to become a doctor, how about an EMT, or a surgical nurse…”

“Moooom just drop it already!  Why can’t you understand that I don’t wanna work in the medical field!”

“But with your magic, you could help people. That’s why your sister…”

“Ugh, Please don’t compare me to her, mom I hate it when you do that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to but, Isla honey I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself so short.  You’re a lot smarter than you realize.”

Isla rolls her eyes, she was over having this same old debate, “Can I go?  I gotta get to school already.”

“Do you need a ride, I could drop you off on my way to work?”

“Nah, I’ll walk.”

“Alright, well good luck on your test dear.”

“Thanks, mom.” Isla gives her mom a half wave as she walks out the door.

In a world where only about 1 in every 5,000 people are born with the capacity to wield inhuman powers, it was seen as special to be one of those few.  But not everyone used their abilities for good or were even happy to have them.  They couldn’t live an ordinary life and were expected to behave with a higher degree of acumen.  But try explaining to a child why they couldn’t go to the same schools as the other kids in the neighborhood, or why they needed to attend a special school just for their own kind.  All Isla Dreyar wanted to be was a normal teenager, with normal problems, but unfortunately, being born with magic meant the shy young girl would face a whole ‘nother set of stressors that could drive her to the brink.  

Great, just great, as if things couldn’t get any worse in this class she just had to get an F on her quiz.  Isla rolls her eyes, lets out a lengthy groan, and drops her head onto the desk, burrowing it between her folded arms, ‘I really, really… hate this class!’  A month ago, she had been warned by upper classmates, that told her Elemental Studies was one of the toughest subjects anyone with her type of magic would have to go through; and now she knew why because it thoroughly and utterly sucked!

In this realm, elemental magic was the most common type because it revolved around anything to do with nature, such as fire, water, plants, rocks, and well electricity just to name a few.  But for Isla, that meant having to study several scientific topics such as chemistry, biology, and meteorology which were her weakest fields.  Plus, it didn’t help that the teacher, Mrs. Aquarius was, let’s just say not very friendly.  

Sage ducks into the room to check on his friend, knowing this was a difficult class for her, “Hey Isla,” a hand on her shoulder and a voice she knows all too well raises her from lamenting on the current situation.  “You okay?”

A false smile quickly morphs onto her face. “Yeah!”  Standing up and shoving her belongings into her school bag, “totally fine Sage, just a bit tired I guess, stayed up to cram ‘n all.”

The young man, moves out of the way as Isla shoulders her bag, giving her space while they head out of the classroom.  “How’d you do on the test?”

Shrugging, “Average I guess…. Hey, wanna get something to eat at the caf?”

“Nah I’m cool, supposed to meet Nashi in the library so we can work on our group assignment for Mr. Capricorn’s class,” he reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder, “how ‘bout…” but she shies out of his reach.

“Oh…” her breathing falters, “I’ll just catch ya later then.”  Isla walks away abruptly, leaving Sage a bit baffled by her sudden shift in attitude; not even giving him a chance to say goodbye.  Still confused but now late for his meeting, he heads in the opposite direction towards the library.  

Isla’s head is spinning, berating herself for being rude to Sage when all he had done was simply mention another girls name.  Of course, it was a rival in her view, but he didn’t know that… ‘and, didn’t deserve the attitude,’sighing and plopping down under an old willow with her lunch.  Sage Redfox, cool and collected Sage, or Tatsuo as some of his buddies called him was the one friend Isla had stayed close to since they were little kids.  While his tastes eventually developed into the more gothic scene, fueling her own shift towards that genre, his personality was always open and charismatic, never dark or angry.  Not to mention she found him very attractive, tall and toned, with long dark blue hair that he kept up in a ponytail most of the time.  He was the one friend she could count on….  Releasing a long exhale, ‘I should apologize to him later.’      

She rubs at her inner left wrist, closing her eyes to the realities surrounding her for the moment, and leans against the withered trunk.  School, studies, acquaintances going about their day oblivious to one girl sitting all alone.  They didn’t even notice her presence, Isla assumes, since she wasn’t one of the popular girls or in any real clique for that matter, able to count her real friends on one hand.  Not that she minded so much, in fact she preferred it that way.  Isla portrayed a tough girl image to keep people away and hide her real emotions not bring them closer, only those she trusts are ever brought into her inner circle.  

But right now, those emotions are playing havoc with her mind, running wild down the darkest of paths and Isla wasn’t sure how to get off it.  Isla raises her hand, watching the flickering white energy sparking off her finger tips, reminding of her of the so-called gift she should be thrilled to have.  It was inherited from her father, a powerful ability he would often remind her, dangerous and yet lifegiving at the same time.  Sure, it would be an easy thing to electrocute an enemy or restart a heart that had stopped beating.  But she wasn’t interested in either, at least the going into the medical field part because that would require a lot more schooling than the young girl was willing to consider.

After releasing the built-up energy into the ground around her, she closes her eyes once more.  It was unfair as far as she was concerned, that her sister inherited their mother’s transformation magic which was much easier to learn and deal with, and quite frankly a lot more fun.  Imagine being able to turn into any person or animal you wanted to, even grow wings to fly away, ‘far away from here.’  Last Isla had overheard, her older sister was aiming for a career in law enforcement just like their father, ‘such a kiss ass!’            

She notices a pair of boys creating and throwing snowballs at each other, hitting a girl on accident who retaliates by sending a stream of water to drench them.  One of her friend’s waves as he flies through the quad with leathery wings kicking up some dust and pollen.  Ugh, it was making her envious to see them having fun.  Isla checks her watch, 7 more minutes of lunch, two more classes and it was back to her one sanctum in this world where she could hideaway in solitude.  

Three hours later, the bell rings signaling the end of classes for the day. Isla packs up and heads straight for home without speaking to anyone she passes, simply intent on holing up in her bedroom for the rest of the night.  She hears her name called out from behind as she steps through the front door of the school, but there’s no turning back today, not today.

Sage can see his friend at the front of a throng of students rushing for the exit.  He calls out a couple of times, but Isla never turns around. A slight frown mars his face, could she not hear him?  Not a remarkable notion when you consider the volume of chatter in that narrowed hallway. But ever since they had parted ways outside of Elemental Studies, he could tell that Isla was hiding something and now this only fueled his assumption that something was truly upsetting her.  

“Oi!  Tatsuo!”

He turns to see one of his buddies ambling towards him, “Whoa whassup Ande!” clapping his friend’s hand with an exaggerated handshake and quick shoulder bump type hug, “Where the hell were you last night, I thought you was gonna stop by my house?”

“That damn test was hell to study for, but I bet you breezed through it, last year.”

“Even more reason you should’a dropped by, idiot I could’a helped ya.”  

“Eh,” Ande shrugs his shoulders, “I passed with a C.” The two boys head out along the side walk towards the parking lot and their cars.  “You got plans or just going home?”

“I do, was gonna swing by and check on Isla ‘cause she seemed upset earlier.”

“Probably did bad on that test, she looked miserable when we got it back from the witch.”

“That’s what I thought too but I think it’s something else.”

“Oh.”  Stopping at his car, Ande throws his bag on the backseat then turns again to his friend. “By the way…  so, I’ve been meaning to ask,” peering around to see if anyone was nearby, he lowers his voice, “what’s the deal with you two?”

Shifting his stance, Sage’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms in a defensive posture, “What do you mean?”

“Pfft,” rolling his eyes, the mocha colored hues flashing in amusement, “don’t give me that look.  I know you like her, so what, you gonna stay in the friend zone forever or make a move any time soon?”

Sage sighs, “It’s…  complicated okay?  I just… She’s always been, like, shy about this stuff, so I don’t wanna push anything with her unless she’s ready for it.”

Andesine laughs and shuts his door, “I don’t know why you fuss over that one, especially after what you went through with Midori, so good luck man.”

“Midori wasn’t that bad, I just wasn’t as into her as she was of me.” Exhale,“But yeah, thanks anyways.”

The pair share another friendly handshake.  “Catch ya tomorrow.”

“See ya Ande.”  Tipping two fingers at his buddy before walking towards his own car.

It was only a few blocks from the school to her house, quicker with a few shortcuts so within 20 minutes she had made it, and even more pleased to see no one was home.  Isla looks at her phone, 3:27pm, that meant her parents wouldn’t be home for at least a couple more hours.  ‘Perfect!’  First order of business was to throw on some mind-numbing music and second, her version of therapy…

When he pulls alongside the curb fronting Isla’s house, it wasn’t immediately apparent if his friend was home, but he parks anyway and takes the chance. With his long legs, Sage traverses the short footpath to the porch in just a few strides and ascends the two-step staircase.  “Isla?” knocking at the door and trying the handle.  After finding it unlocked, Sage opens it and sticks his head through. “Isla are you home?”

He can hear music coming from the direction of her room but other than that, the house was quiet, no movement or sound, letting him know she was the only person home.  Well, he’d come this far, so he makes his way down the hallway.  Louder and louder the angsty blends of grunge alternative intensifies the closer he gets to her room, blaring sounds of metal music thumping against the walls.  

Sage knocks at her door.

The razor blade is poised for the second slash when she hears someone knocking at her bedroom.  Panic grips the young girl, who the hell was in her house!  It couldn’t be her parents and her sister weren’t due for a visit anytime soon.  Didn’t she lock the front door?  ‘Oh crap!’ In her rush to numb her mind had she forgotten to lock the damn door?

“Isla?  It’s me Sage.”

What was Sage doing there!  Isla rushes around her room, clicking off the radio, throwing things into the closet, the dresser, shoving stuff under her bed until a sharp sting hits her.  She looks down at her wrist as fresh little ruby beads break through the cut she had made a few minutes ago.  It was beckoning, almost calling to her to remember the freeing sensation it conveyed, such a dark reddish hue against the paleness of her milky skin tone charming her…  

“Isla?  I can hear you moving around.  Can I come in?”

‘Damn it!’ Sage, she had forgotten about him being there!  In a panic, Isla looks around for her first aid kit.  “It’s kind of a mess, could you, um, give me a couple more minutes to clean up?”        

Sage chuckles, “I’ve seen your version of a mess, come on Isla…”

She fumbles with a bandage and gauze trying to wrap the cut and pull her gloves back on as quickly as possible. “Just give me a few minutes please!!”

He stops cold, lips twitching into a frown.  That was a harsher reaction than was warranted, even from her.  “Isla, what’s going on?”

“No…tsss. Oww, fuck!”  

“Isla… what was that?”  He tries the knob, but it was locked.  “Are you hurt!”  Banging louder on the door, “Isla, if you don’t open this door I swear I’ll break it down!”

“I’m fine Sage…  Shit!”

Hearing the second cringe and that was it for him. He slams his shoulder into the door once, but it doesn’t budge.

“Sage are you crazy!!”

“Last chance Isla unlock it, or I break the door down. You know I could crack the metal hinges easily!”

“My parents will kill me if you do that!”

“Then I suggest you open it cause I ain’t leaving! Now, I’m counting to 3,” pause, “1…  2…”

Click.

Sage opens the door and finds Isla sitting on the edge of her bed.  There are drying tears along her cheeks but looking her up and down, he couldn’t see what the cause of the pain noises could have been from.  He hurries over and kneels in front of her, “Isla what’s wrong?”

“I told you, I’m fine, just, stubbed my toe on the bed.”

He glances down and see’s boots still on her feet, then back to her with a raised eyebrow.  She’s obviously lying to him and when he notices her favoring one of her hands, he grabs her by the wrist to check it himself.  “Oww!” Isla squeals, yanking back her arm and cradling the wrist against her chest.  A new wave of tears flowing freely as the stinging pain radiates outward from the fresh cut.  

Now he’s livid and grabs her arm again from a higher point forcing the glove off.  “A bandage?” Looking back at her face, his crimson red eyes flashing in anger, “did you cut yourself?”  Isla refuses to meet his stare and shakes her head with exaggeration. Grasping her by both arms, “Isla please tell me, did you hurt yourself?”  Again, she shakes her head vigorously, no.  “Don’t lie to me!  What did you use, a razor blade?  Where is it!!”  Her eyes widen, frightened by the fury he was displaying.  She hesitates but based on the seriousness in his tone, pulls it out of her pocket to avoid being searched by force.  Sage snatches the small cutter from her outstretched palm and using his metal manipulation magic, turns it into a useless quarter sized lump.  “No more of that.”

Sage rises to his feet.  If she had failed the Elemental test, that was something he could handle.  Parents just being on her case, nothing new to him. But a friend self-harming themselves, he had no idea how to react, and as he contemplates what to do, Isla sinks onto the edge of the bed with her head hung.  There was no way she could look at him now.  Why of all people to find this out about her than her crush? Could things get any worse?  Oh, how she wanted to run the razor over her arm and let the physical pain counter the mental anguish called her life.  

He walks away to stare out of the window, bracing against the frame.  It was like having his heart ripped from his chest to see his friend in so much distress, that she had felt so alone that hurting herself had become the only recourse.  His mind berates himself for not seeing the signs, for surely there had to have been some indications that Isla had been depressed.  But as he racks his brain, trying desperately to find something, nothing special was standing out.  Yes, in hind sight she had been a bit more detached, but since she had always been a reserved person it wasn’t such a noticeable difference.    

With his back turned, Isla squeezes the bandaged wrist.  If she couldn’t cut herself to bring on the pain, she could still get it another way.  Her eyes roll back as the stinging sensation floods her consciousness and dulls the droning voices screaming in her head.  Slowly she increases the pressure of her grip, sending new waves of euphoria against her ravaged mind, it felt utterly amazing to lose herself in its swells...

“Isla No!”  Suddenly, she is ripped away from her thoughts when Sage grabs her hand to stop her personal assault.  “Are you f’ing kidding me!”  

“You don’t understand!  It makes me feel better Sage!  I’ve been so depressed over everything lately and it takes that away, it stops the voices that plague my every waking moment.”  Isla stands up and paces next to the bed.  “I hate that I have this stupid magic, my parents are always comparing me to my sister, and now that friggen class is going to drive my GPA even lower!  Even the guy I like doesn’t see me.”  Flailing her arms in the air, “nothing is going right in my life, nothing!”

“Wait, what guy?”

“Huh,” Isla stops her ranting, whipping around, “what guy?”

“Yeah, you said the guy you like doesn’t see you, who are you talking about?”

“I never said anything about a…”  she pauses from the realization, ‘oh, snap, I did, didn’t I!’  Waving her hands adamantly to wipe the slate clean, “forget you heard that part,” she resumes pulling the first aid kit back out to fix her bandage like nothing strange had just happened.  “Look, Sage, please don’t tell anyone about this.  I don’t need any more people thinking I’m a bigger weirdo or loser.”

With nothing more than his own smarts and affection to guide him, Sage, leads her back to the bed and prompts her to sit down next to him.  “Isla, I’m sorry you hate having magic, it bugs me too sometimes, but I think it makes us unique, you know, special.  With your parents, they love you, you know they do, but…  maybe they just don’t realize that some of their comments makes you feel this bad.  And, don’t worry about class, okay,” holding her hand, sweeping his thumb over the silky skin, “I’ll help you with that, together you’ll get through it.  But, why are you deflecting my question?  Isla tell me who is this guy you like since it’s bothering you so much.”

“I…” looking away, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not, is it someone you know I’ll hate?”

“No…  He’s actuallya really great guy…”

“Do I know him?”

“Well, yeah probably better than anyone else…”

Running his free hand over his face, “Pleasedon’t tell me it’s Andesine.”

Her head whips around to look at him, “What!  Eww, no way, he’s not my type, plus his mom scares the hell out of me.”

“Then who is it?”

Isla looks down again, “I’m too embarrassed to tell you.”

Sage is torn, he doesn’t want to push too hard, concerned that doing so would drive her back to hurting herself when it seemed like he was making progress.  But he was also curious, jealouslycurious to know who his rival might be.  He sighs, noting the slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks, and the increased warmth of her palms.  Whomever her heart belonged to was bringing out an adorable reaction from Isla and if that wasn’t just tearing his own apart.

“You know…” squeezing her hand as moisture clouds his vision, “I wish you had come to me about all of this…  We used to tell each other everything,” speaking softly with gentle underpinnings of a bruised spirit.  “Isla I’ll always be here for you… no matter what.”

She can’t bring herself to look directly at his face, but her eyes flit upward briefly, gazing through plumed lashes and noting the concern his eyes are sporting.  “I know…” a glowing flush to her skin only amplified by the darkening and spreading splotches along her chest.  “I know you are.”  At least deep down she did.

In that moment, the tough girl persona had dissolved into the Isla he knew was buried beneath the surface.  For all her flaws, she was beautiful to him inside and out, a rough diamond simply waiting to be cut and polished.  But the longer Sage soaks in her image, the more he realizes just how much he cared about the petite blonde with the dyed red hair.      

“Okay, Isla I won’t push if you don’t want to tell me. But, well…  I have a crush on someone too.”

Isla’s whole body stiffens.  Things were progressing so well, she was actually starting to feel better but with that one statement, all of those airier feelings flew right out the window as her heart sinks and all the color drains away from her face.  Of all the times for Sage to bring this up!  

She squeezes her eyes shut, barely breathing out the question, “I-Is it Nashi?”

“Nashi?” a strong rebuke in his tone, “no, it’s not her?”

“Then who is it?”  Her mind is spiraling, ‘Geez Sage just put me out of my misery already…’

“It’s you,” tilting her face up and smiling when her eyes pop open with genuine shock registering on her face.  “Isla, it’s you.”

“Me?” She blinks, his words still not sinking in.

“Yes, you.  Now will you tell me who you like?”

Isla pauses for a few seconds.  “I-I like you too Sage.”

Sage let’s out the air he didn’t realize he was holding. “Wow it’s a good thing we like each other.”  Chuckling, “cause, it’d be pretty awkward if you had said someone else.”

“But, I don’t understand…” Isla turns her head away, “why would you want to like someone like me?  I’m not pretty like your last girlfriend, and I-I mean you, well, you’re popular, and really smart, but me I’m just…” longexhale, “just a total mess.”

“You’re not a mess.  You have some issues but to me you are much prettier than Midori, and sweeter,” chuckling, “I can conduct your electricity so, I’d say we make a good match.” Caressing her cheek, “and you’re not dumb just because you struggle in science, your language and grammar skills are way better than mine.”  

Her eyes fill with moisture, “you really think so?” Sage nods his head in response.

The stirring of emotions swirling in her mind was becoming overwhelming, so she closes her eyes, drifting away to process it all.  Sage had caught her in one of her lowest moments and yet he hadn’t run but stayed to comfort her just like he had always done throughout their life. From scrapes and bruises in primary school, to fights with her sister.  Late night chats about anything or nothing.  He’d always been her best friend.  So, why had she fallen so far down the rabbit hole?  A part of her felt he deserved better, someone who didn’t seem to have so much baggage weighing them down.    

But could she break the cycle or had the slope become too slippery to climb back up from?  Isla wanted to believe everything he was saying, her heart wanted to take a sledgehammer to the wall that had been built up, but it was her mind that held back. All the what if’s plaguing it, would he hurt her in the end?  To lose not just a boyfriend, a first crush, but a best friend, could her heart take that kind of pain?  Like a drug dealer fueling its customer, the throbbing of her healing wrist harkened to her and she absentmindedly begins to rub at it.      

Sage frowns as he watches her slowly revert inwards again. “Isla?”

“Hmm?” she opens her eyes and looks at him.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”  He points to her wrist and that’s when she realizes what she had started doing again.  “Sorry,” Isla stops rubbing her wrist, “I guess it’s become a habit.”

“Please, promise me you’ll stop hurting yourself. You mean too much to me to lose you now.”  

She blinks, this sappier side of Sage was new to her. “I…”  Taking a deep breath, could she really get better?  After a brief pause and another long exhale, she nods, “Okay, I promise Sage.”

A companionable silence falls between the pair, Isla feeling a little better about her circumstances, and he holding-out hope that she would keep her promise.  But it was a little awkward for her too, being so close and not knowing what to do next. Sage has had a girlfriend before, but Isla’s never had a boyfriend.                

She fiddles with her fingers, “Sage, um,” tucking some loose strands behind her ear, “what are we?  I mean, are we like a couple now?”

“Do you want to be?  I just didn’t want to make you feel like we had to be one if you weren’t ready yet.”

“I guess it would be okay, I mean, I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

“Isla,” he cradles her cheek, sweeping his thumb over the skin, “I would love to finally call you my girlfriend.  Hmm, in fact,” Sage reaches over and picks up the former razor from where he’d dropped it, “maybe this will help.”  Using his magic, he splits the lump into two portions, manipulating their forms into new pieces.  “How about a promise ring,” slipping one onto her finger before placing the second ring on his.  “Now everyone will know we’re taken, and it’ll remind us of our promises to one another.”

“Sage…” moisture quickening at her corners and her baby blue eyes brightening, “I-I don’t even know what to say, it’s,” toying with the simple gray band, she exhales and smiles wide, “this does make me feel a lot happier.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

#fairytail next gen #fan fic #gajevy #mirlax #jerza #kids #sage redfox #Isla dreyar #andesine fernandez #fairytail #high school AU #angst #teen romamnce #magic

[finn-odell]

Settle With the World the Only Crime Is That I Bought You

Self-Para || Finn History

Life had been hell. How many days was he on now? He couldn’t remember. The days seemed to pass slowly, and he wondered how much longer he would have to keep this up before he could get out of this. Sure, he’d had conversations with people about an exit strategy, and he wanted to get out, but he was stubborn and wanted to succeed. He just needed to get close enough to get a name, or put the name to the face. If he could get the FBI any information then he could ask to be released from the assignment. He could go back to living a somewhat normal life. Maybe he could even think of other options because working undercover had turned out to be a nightmare.

All of those concerns had to be pushed aside, he had things to do today. Finn had done exactly what he was asked to do. He found the guy that the boss was wanting to find. The traitor to the group. They had been searching for him for a while now. Somehow, every single day that they had worked on finding Gino they would get close, and miss him. This time, Finn had ensured that no news of them was coming. He’d warned the guys that they were to keep this information under wraps. They would explain it all afterward. If they were ever going to catch this guy, they needed to make sure there were no warning signs prior to their coming. Two months was too long for Finn to spend searching for one guy.

There was a pounding on his door. “MAC! Get the fuck out here! Let’s get this shit DONE!”

Finn picked up his personal phone, shooting off a text to Eve. A hope to see her soon. It had been too long since he’d gone and spent time with her, but he’d been so busy lately that it wasn’t possible. Between working his shifts at the bar, and running off with the guys piecing together information, there was no time for fun, at least not a lot of it. Sliding his personal cellphone into a hidden compartment in his apartment, he made sure he had his guns, his other cell, and his keys. Stepping out of the door, he greeted the male with a familiar handshake, and a grin. “Alright, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

As the man with the information, Finn was the lead on this. The other guys were following him. He was comfortable in the position, having others following his orders. It crossed his mind that perhaps he shouldn’t feel so comfortable leading the others this way. It also didn’t go unnoticed that Finn was beginning to feel more comfortable around the criminals that surrounded him. He tried not to let that eat at him, feeling as though that meant he was slowly losing himself to the acts that he was constantly taking part of.

They found themselves in a little shop, entering it, and locking the door behind them, although they didn’t own the business. Finn knew that Gino would be hiding here. He’d gotten a tip that the idiot had been frequenting this place lately. It was neutral territory, at least he was smart enough to do that. Neutral meant that Finn and gang would not cross into turf that wasn’t theirs. They couldn’t very well deal out punishment in an area where this traitor would be safe. At the same time, Finn wondered why Gino even considered leaving the protection of an area protected by the rival gang. If he had only just remained there, Finn would never have been able to reach him. Not without making some sort of deal with the enemy.

Finn stepped farther into the shop, seeing Gino off in a corner with another boy. Stretching his arms out wide, a cold smile crept over Finn’s face. “Gino! What a surprise! Come and say hi. Long time no see.”

The amusement that had been on Gino’s features quickly melted into a look of terror. Somehow, that look of terror spurred Finn on. He could see the other male’s eyes darting around to attempt to form an exit strategy. Finn didn’t have to turn around to know that the men he had with him were blocking any potential exits. Finn tilted his head to the side, his previous cold smile morphing into feigned confusion. “What? Not happy to see us?”

“How the fuck did you find me?” Gino asked. The male at the table with him watched the scene in silent fear. It made Finn almost laugh.

With a casual shrug, Finn stepped closer, “I have my ways. If you’d stuck around long enough, you would have learned that. What was it someone compared me to recently? A hound? Fucking hounds have nothing on me.”

Placing his hands flat on the table and leaning in close to Gino, Finn’s face was now devoid of any other emotions aside from an intense, intimidating stare that had Gino cowering in his seat.

“You can’t do anything to me, the boss will kill you!”

As he pulled back to straighten to his full height, he rolled his eyes in annoyance and then stared down at the male with almost a bored expression. “Will he? Funny, these orders came down from him. Looks like you’ve been a bad boy, and now father dearest needs some answers.”

At that clarification, Gino clambered out of his seat and tried to make a break for the door. Anticipating the move, Finn reached out grabbing the male around the middle, and then quickly taking him down so that he couldn’t fight him. The companion also tried to escape, and Finn’s counterpart who was closest to the main exit was able to grab that one.

“Let me go you fuckin asshole!”

“At least you’ve got some guts now, but I’m afraid that we can’t let you go. Sorry for your luck, you should’ve thought about that before you went and ran your mouth. Number one rule. Keep your fucking mouth shut.” And with that Finn knocked the male with a blow that ensured he was unconscious.

Standing up, Finn glanced at the companion, nodding at him. “Let’s take this one too. I have a feeling that if he’s been trying to help this guy hide out, he might have some answers that we need... and if not? Who cares.”

Once each of the men were secured in their car, they made their way back to their area of the city. A location was given to them, and once they arrived other people came out to assist in moving the men to a place where they could be interrogated without getting caught. Finn followed the crowd, the confidence that he had earlier now fading. That adrenaline buzz had come crashing, and in it’s place was a quiet horror at the fact that he’d so easily led to men to a place where they would likely be tortured until the information that was wanted came out, or until they were dead. Either way death was at the end of this.

Finn stood on the edges, letting others try to take the lead on asking the questions at first. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, careful to display no emotions on his face. He had to be careful here. These were always the hardest moments for him, when something particularly gruesome and cruel happened. As easy as what he did earlier might have been, this would not be easy in the slightest. This was his doing. This was something he would have to live with being on his conscience. He’d played the game, and now he would have these two lives hanging over him until the day he died. That was part of being in this life, he knew, and it was part of why he’d left gang life as a teenager. This was the part of it that he couldn’t handle.

People kept taking turns trying to extract information from Gino, and from the other male with him. Finn watched every blow, every shouted, angry word and warning. In all of this, he paid attention to details. He listened for all of the information that was shared, if any at all. If Gino and his friend were smart, they would keep their mouths shut and die, but they weren’t smart men. Gino, in particular, had been stupid enough to run his mouth to another boss. A man that reckless with his life was likely to make more mistakes before it was all said and done.

“You ain’t getting shit from me.” Gino spit at the men in front of him.

Finn scoffed, and shook his head. Eyes turned in his direction. Shit. One of them looked as if he’d gotten a bright idea. “You know what... why don’t we let Mac here question you for a bit? Let’s see what he’s got. After all, he managed to catch your ass.”

“Nah, bruh, you’ve got it.” Finn waved the suggestion off.

Hands shoved him forward toward the two men who were tied to chairs. The quick stuttered steps from being pushed forward unexpectedly transitioned to a smooth, slow gait. It was a complete contrast to the rapid beat of his heart. His mind was racing with what he would have to do next. Inflicting pain in exchange for information, was he capable of it? He’d have to be. He had to figure out a way to handle this, to live with it, and quick.

Finn stood in front of Gino, forcing himself to go into a different headspace. He wasn’t Finn right now. This wasn’t Finn. Finn wouldn’t be in this position. He was Mac, and he needed to make sure that he appeared as though he could handle this work in front of the rest. Show weakness, suffer consequences, and Finn was in this to survive. He wanted to survive. He needed to survive.

“You think you have it made now, don’t you Mac?” Gino asked, glaring up at Finn.

He didn’t react, he just stared at Gino for a while, letting the male feel the full extent of his presence. Although, admittedly, Finn wasn’t trying to be intimidating on purpose. He was trying to figure out what way would be best to get information.

“Yeah, you think you’re the golden boy, now. It’s too late. You’re going to burn with the rest of them.”

Finn tilted his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest, still silent as he stared at the male.

“You don’t have it in you. They’re gonna see it. You can’t fucking hurt me. You don’t have the balls.”

Without even a second thought, and what seemed like space of only a second, Finn’s fist collided with the male’s jaw. Blood sprayed out of the male’s mouth and Finn crossed his arms again. A punch was easy. Punches he could do. That was something he’d done plenty of times.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to me. BK won’t accept you. Not fully. You’ll see. You’re gonna be in the same position as me soon. You’re gonna be looking for a way out, if you’re not dea-”

This time Finn punched him with the other fist from the other side. “Sorry. Thought your face needed some balance.” He commented calmly.

There were laughs that came from the spectators. “Oh shit, I think you’ve pissed Mac off.”

“I only just started.” Finn said as he reeled back to throw another punch, this time to the male’s stomach.

Hours later Finn was stumbling into his apartment. He stopped at the sink in his bathroom, leaning on his hands as he stared down into the empty basin. His hands had signs of blood. His clothes showed the same signs. Finn tried to swallow, he couldn’t, a wave of nausea rolled up powerfully beginning in his stomach and working it’s way up with a quickness that he almost didn’t have time to reach the toilet next to where he stood. Yanking the lid up, he fell down to his knees as he wretched loudly.

It was a while before his stomach had finally had enough. There was nothing left to throw up, and Finn let himself collapse flat on his back on the cool tile floor. He stared at the ceiling for some time as he tried to come to terms with everything he’d just done. The punching had only been the beginning. He wished that had been it. It wasn’t.

He was slow to pull himself up, finally managing to come up to his feet. He started the shower, and peeled off his clothes. It was another thirty minutes before he was out of the shower and brushing his teeth. After that he walked naked to the place where he hid his personal phone. He pulled it out and quickly dialed a number. “I think I want some deep dish.” He said into the phone.

“I guess you’d better head this way, then.”

The line went dead. Finn got changed, put the clothes into a bag to deal with later, and then made his way out the door. When he finally reached the usual meeting location Finn tried not to think about the last time he’d met with these two in person. The threats that had been thrown his way still sat uncomfortably in his stomach. 

“I think I have a name. Or at least some kind of nickname.”

“Of the boss?” One of them asked incredulously.

Finn nodded. “Yeah. But before I tell you what the fuck I know, I have some things that I want from you.”

“Oh here we go. He thinks we haven’t been through this a million times before. You don’t get to name your price, pretty boy.” The asshole one replied.

Angry eyes landed on the FBI agent, and Finn tried not to fine amusement in the way he sat back. Clearly, Finn’s look must be more intimidating than even he thought he was capable of. Good.

“I’m not asking for a lot here. No fancy cars, no fancy homes. I give you a name. I want out, and I want it fast.”

the one who wasn’t an asshole happened to look surprised. “But you haven’t seen his face yet.”

“I’m not likely to. I give you this much, and it’s more than you’ve managed with anyone else before. It just so happened that I don’t think Gino realized what he said. Nobody else there seemed to notice either. They don’t pay attention. I do.”

“Fine, we can try and see about getting you out, but it’s not as easy as all that. We have to find a way to pull you out without suspicion. We have to get everything cleared. They’ll need to debrief you. Make sure that your record is clean of whatever you’ve done. There are a lot of things that are going to go into getting you out. It’s not going to be overnight.”

“I can wait, so long as you get the process started.”

He could be patient a little longer. His life wasn’t in danger, not yet. He had time on his hands.

“What’s the name?”

“I’ll tell you, but I’m not telling him.” Finn turned his gaze to the asshole agent.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me! You don’t get a choice!”

“I do, and I know very well that you’ll try to fuck me over. I’m not stupid. I’ll give the info to him. Only him. Not you. End of story.”

“Get out, Ben. I’ll get the info we need.”

It was a lucky break when the male got up. “If you’re lying to us I’ll personally see to it that you go down. You won’t get any pretty exit from this shit. You’ll go down with the rest of them.”

No more than Finn expected. It was better to keep his expectations low. Right now? He still felt death was most likely. Second option? Prison. He was in a race against time. Could he get out before one of those options caught up to him? Unlikely. He would still try.

Turning his attention back to the agent. “They call him King Papo. That’s the nickname the boss goes by. Only higher level, inner circle, call him that. Those of us on the outskirts, we just refer to him as the boss. Nobody really knows what he looks like, unless you’re inner circle, or get close enough to inner circle. From what I can tell his name is BK.”

“BK? And how is that supposed to help us?”

Finn laughed. “Because when I first got here I remember someone referred to a person by name, someone else asked if that person was ‘Baby King’ and they said it was.”

The man in front of him looked surprised.

“I told you. I pay attention. I didn’t think anything of it then. People have all sorts of stupid nicknames that make them sound important. Baby King isn’t even the most pretentious one. At the time the name only came up once on a conversation about something completely unrelated and unimportant. I think they were just talking about inviting him to the damn strip club, or some shit like that.”

That earned a snort from the agent. Finn continued, “BK, I’m guessing it’s Baby King, whose real name is Ray Gonzales. Now get me the fuck out of this city.”

Finn stood up from the table and walked out of the room. He’d gotten as close as he wanted to get to the boss. He didn’t need to get any closer. Now it was only a matter of time before he could get released from this hellhole and maybe be able to get his life back together.

#larpara #p: settle with the world the only crime is that i bought you #tw: violence #tw: gang activity #tw: death #tw: guns #tw: physical violence #tw: blood #tw: threats #(made it look easy. can't look away. you like the pain.)

[oh-beyond]

Saviour AU - Part 1

He wasn’t rich like the others, he didn’t really fit, but he was part of the group, the rich boys that had investments in one of the biggest companies in the country, they were powerful and handsome and they could get anything the wanted, money had corrupted their every day actions, money that Byun Baekhyun didn’t have, to what extent was he like them?

You were lucky enough to be delivering the coffee every morning, you just wanted to see him, and to see him meant seeing the others too…

You had faith that he was different… just don’t trust him too much he might surprise you, and not in a good way.

Business AU/Angst/Smut in future parts.

Baekhyun x Reader ft. Chanyeol & Lay (Mentions of EXO OT12)

Masterlist

Saviour Masterpost

Part 2 > 

Notorious. The least it could be said about this group of boys. They went to all-boys school near where you lived, it wasn’t a private school, it wasn’t even for rich kids, but everyone knew that they chose to get there to be able to buy their high scores. Other people said that they were in that school because simply they would stand out, in a private school for rich kids they would be just like everyone else, and that is exactly what their families didn’t want for them, teaching them from young age that they were unique and above everyone else.

What drew your attention was that they always were together, sometimes you would be really close to them when their amazing cars with drivers came and collected them from the bus stop near your house. They also visited the convenience store you worked at as a part-timer to get junk. You didn’t know anything about them, just that they were gorgeous, too gorgeous to be just school boys.

They didn’t look the same age, some looked older than you some younger, some were Chinese… All this information you were gathering without really knowing why. Why were you so intrigued? It’s not like you’d ever be able to talk to them.

Your duty was to sweep the floors, those same floors that they stepped on although the yellow sign of ‘wet floor’ was very visible. Rich boys, bratty, sassy, and too unreachable.

One day you were as usual just doing your thing, you heard the Chinese chit-chat behind you, your heart pumped blood faster, they were there, followed by the sound of glass cracking in the floor, you walked to the isle where you distinctively saw the head of the tallest one, there was a broken bottle of soju in the floor, you bowed without making eye contact and lowered yourself to clean it.

“Go get another bottle and let’s go.”

“Guys they won’t sell it to you, you are all underage, why are you like this?”

“Yeah and here comes the wise Lay, Suho hyung said the guy here would sell it to us if we give him a couple more notes.”

“Just go to your father’s office and go wild with all the booze there’s in there.”

“And what will I do? My father is in freaking China, you are lucky, perhaps I should visit Mr. Kim more often in his office.”

“That sounded disturbing LuHan, shut the fuck up and let Kris try and pretend he’s over 18.”

You stood up at all this nonsense, today they were only 8 visiting the store, still intimidating, and what was said about your boss really made your stomach churn. Indeed the tallest one Kris tried buying the alcohol and he didn’t even need to pay extra, he looked old enough, getting a dozen bottles and leaving the store really proud. As you saw them leave you lowered yourself again cleaning the remaining glass cutting your finger in the process.

“Ouch!”

“Are you alright?” the melodic sound of this guy’s cute accent and incredible deep dimples taking your hand looking genuinely worried. So they did make eye contact with peasants, suddenly forgetting about the cut and the blood and everything around you contemplating his incredibly perfect skin.

“I am, I’m alright.”

“Be careful, it’s very sharp, you need help with that?”

“Oh no, please, it’s my job.”

“Yah! Lay, what the fuck are you doing?” asked one of the Korean guys.

“Oh no he is in ‘nice guy’ mode.”

“Maybe she is pretty, let him live.” Teased another one.

The guys waiting for him outside kept mocking him, nevertheless he gave you a tissue before sprinting outside.

“Done?” Asked Kris.

“Do you idiots have a heart even?” Lay was pissed looking anywhere but his friends.

“We are so proud of you gege, now let’s get drunk.”

You watched them walk away happy to have acquired the alcohol being all underage, they were not good kids, but just that Lay guy… he was, you knew he was, so that was enough to get even more attached to these hypnotising boys that all the neighbourhood talked about.

*****

You started really getting too curious. Nothing harmful, you just wanted to see them closely, to know more about them. When you asked your friends at school you were surprised that they all knew about where they hanged out. Most of them were into sports, some more than others and that is when your feet took you to the park on the last Friday of the month, their monthly get together for a session of showing off, it was more of a show than anything else, they loved the attention.

The very tall intimidating looking one Kris was shooting balls at the basket, he had his own fan club of hormonal teenage girls cheering for him along with the guy that was just simply leaning on the basketball pole, doing absolutely nothing but looking like a greek god sculpture. Much paler and shorter, however just as impressive, not sweaty like like the tall one, but his tank top revealed how toned he was. You heard Kris calling him Suho. Every time you learned the name of one of them you got excited. Your feet took you closer to admire them in action and learn more things about them. 

Next to Kris and Suho was a foxy looking tall guy, unique and distinctive, he was stretching before he took a pair of nunchakus that he used like a pro, and wow… was he giving a show or what? 

He was being circled by another boy on a skateboard, he was also tall and was fair skinned like Suho. He had the look of a proper vampire, even his canines stood out as he teased the boy in his martial arts practise, his features sharp and again really intimidating. They were pure work of art, he had broad shoulders that made you wonder how he fitted through doors.

“Move away Sehun-ah.”

“When you learn how to say it properly. Your accent is horrible Taozi.”

“I’m hyung bitch, better than your non-existant Chinese asshole.”

“I’ll call you gege if you say it properly.” Kept teasing Sehun.

“Stop it kids, what’s with you two?”

“Don’t waste your breath Suho, they are just a pair of babies" stated Kris before shooting another ball.

You walked further in the park curious to see the rest, coming to the small football (soccer) pitch. You recognised the cute one from the store immediately. He was way too excited scoring goals, constantly hugging another guy that had eyes like no one did on the face of the planet, was he half feline half human? Impressive to say the least, they were being called LuHan hyung and Xiumin hyung by another 2 boys. One had a beautiful smile cheeky and playful and you heard a few girls commenting about the bright yellow t-shirt he wore to draw attention to him, Chen, the owner of that smile, there was something extremely cheeky about him, apart from being the loudest. The other boy looked plainly scary, his thick eyebrows and his angry yet serene looks gave you the chills, his lips were just too perfect not to give a proper look, D.O was his nickname and he didn’t like to lose to LuHan and Xiumin.

Wondering where the guy with the dimples was, you just had to follow the screams of the excited girls with no life to find out, accurate description of you right now. You’d never ever scream or let these guys affect you too much like the bunch of losers grouped watching them.

But your heart nearly stopped when you saw a sad one sitting on one of the skatepark rails, he was looking at the skateboard he had in hand doing nothing out of the ordinary other that stealing your breath… 

Breathing, yes that is what you needed to do or else you will turn blue.

“Yah Baekhyun-ah! Come on join me.” Exclaimed this tall guy with huge ears dumb looking yet handsome.

“My skateboard is shit, the wheels, they’ll break anytime.”

“Man I told you you can take mine, you are my brother, why do you keep pushing me away? Here take it! It’s not even new, just chill man.”

“I looks expensive, I feel like a burden, you keep doing all the things for me.”

“Of course it’s expensive and you are stupid, just go, come on show me what you’ve got.”

“Really Chanyeol-ah?”

“Yes Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun… 

The name rang on your ear, you were so close you heard the whole conversation as if you were part of it. This wasn’t your plan, you can’t like any of these guys, firstly you were too young, secondly you were nobody. You’ve seen them so many times yet they never saw you, you were a shadow and now you were drooling watching Baekhyun on the skateboard. He was amazing, his hair was dark brown messy atop of his head, he wore a simple checkered baby blue shirt that was opened a button too much, he wasn’t toned like Kris, Suho or Tao, but he just stole your heart and was stepping on it with that skateboard, your eyes following him…

“Hi!” That melodic voice with the cute accent “you are the girl of the store right?”

“Y-e-s, you remember me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? How is your finger? I’m Zhang Yixing by the way, but they call me Lay, it’s my nickname.” He said offering his hand for a handshake.

You offered your hand shyly, he took it shaking enthusiastically “I’m ___.”

“Nice to meet you ___, I am sorry for what happened last time, the guys are just uncontrollable” he smiled.

“Who is this hyung?” Inquired a gorgeous tan boy coming with his skateboard close to where you were, you thought it would be illegal not to sign him for a modeling compny, just mesmerising.

“Hey Kai, this is ___, she works at the convenience store we always go to.”

“That one were we get all the alcohol? Nice!”

“Yo Kai, give me your skateboard.” voiced Chanyeol.

“Where is yours?”

“Baekhyun has it” Chanyeol approached eyeing you wondering who you were.

“Meet ___, she works at the convenience store.”

“Really? I never saw you there, I must say your store is like heaven, your boss is so cool, can he like adopt me?”

They were too comfortable around you, and you were just panicking in case Baekhyun would join this improvised get together.

“I’m Chanyeol, you are cute.” He offered his hand.

“Easy there man! We just met her.” Interjected Kai.

“Yeah doesn’t change the fact that she is cute,” he turned to you “very cute,” he added caressing your hand with his thumb, you pulled it away.

“Yah, didn’t you want the skateboard? Take it and leave.” Shouted Lay when he saw how uncomfortable you got.

“You should be really thankful that ‘we’ are even considering talking to you, look around you pet. See all them girls loosing their panties to talk to anyone of us?”

Did Chanyeol just say panties? Your heart sank to the floor.

“So smooth hyung, as always, I can’t believe you.” Reproached Kai.

“I am so sorry ___, you see some of us are a bit stupid like Chanyeol here, don’t mind to him, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.” Added Lay.

“I think I’m going to go, I am sorry for intruding.” Your eyes travelled to Baekhyun and the whole world stopped, the other guys talking sounded like ‘blah blah blah’ and at some point you didn’t even see them, it was the sky the earth and Baekhyun.

“Not at all, we will meet again I’m sure.” Said Lay with a comforting smile.

Kai and Lay waived at you while you watched how Baekhyun stood with the skateboard, most probably wondering what was that encounter about. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole as you felt their eyes making holes on your back while to walked. Soon a group of 4 girls came asking a thousand questions about them, you just walked ignoring them, earning yourself some nice insults.

They did come again of course. Regularly, you hid in the toilet every time you saw them from afar approaching the store. You couldn’t, you were too weak. You watched his back from the little gap as you opened the door, he was different, he just made your heart flutter, why him? They all were impressive and the aura they had could make anyone sway, but it was him. Baekhyun, the one that made you sway, and no one else.

Chanyeol visited a few times alone, he would look around as if looking for something, or someone. It wasn’t until that day that he asked for you that it hit you. You sighed in relief when your co-worker told him you were not working, she must of noticed how you avoided him when he came to the store.

What you didn’t plan on was to find Chanyeol outside the store when your shift ended that day.

“Not working? Are you avoiding me?”

You jumped and gasped in surprise turning around to meet his questioning gaze.

“Me? No not at all Chanyeol-ssi.”

“So you remember my name, that’s a good start. Are you probably acting shy? Hard to get?”

“Hard to get?”

“Want to hang out with me sometime? Feel very privileged, girls usually run after me, they do the talking normally… but I… so what do you say?”

“I am 16, I am not allowed to go out, I am sorry.” 

You sprinted but he just chased you with his skateboard as you bumped into Baekhyun, you were chest to chest when you turned around the corner.

This encounter made you even more nervous, you touched him and his face was incredibly close to yours, his knitted eyebrows looking at Chanyeol that came right after you.

“Did you just refuse me?”

You looked at Chanyeol and back at Baekhyun who looked just as pissed.

“Let’s go Chanyeol, don’t get why are you so bothered, she’s nothing.” Said Baekhyun after scoffing.

“No one says no to me.” Chanyeol at this stage was enraged.

“Chanyeol-ahm let’s go.” Suggested Baekhyun patting on his friend’s back leaving you finally breathing out.

And that was the last time you saw or heard of any them, last time you saw of Baekhyun.

You graduated from highschool and moved to the city and that story was a childhood memory .You had a highschool crush with one of the amazing rich boys gang from back home.

Your law carrier was not going to plan, training for over 2 years wasn’t paying the bills. Your parents couldn’t keep supporting you, and at your age you felt ashamed as your dream was to be the provider after college finished. The dreams of a naive girl.

You decided to leave your dreams behind and be realistic, working as a barista wasn’t all bad, it was a job, it earned you money, you enjoyed it a lot and learned the art of it. You introduced the hand dripped coffee that earned you a lot of praising from your boss and your customers.

“Yes our barista ___ made the coffee.” You heard your co-worker say to a customer, you smiled to yourself as you poured the coffee.

“Are you ___?” Asked someone nodding your head working away, “your coffee is magnificent.”

“Thank you!” You said lifting your head from the cup to the customer.

It was none other than the guy nicknamed Xiumin, he looked even more impressive than 10 years ago, his hair shorter styled perfectly with some spikes at the front, wearing a very expensive looking suit, his eyes… same feline looking eyes from highschool years, it was disturbing that you remembered everything about him in such detail. You also recognised the other 2 guys that followed him, Chen that looked sleepy leaning his head on Xiumin’s shoulder, he looked much more built fitting his suit to perfection, his hair styled in a way giving a nice view of his glorious forehead, and the boyish looking LuHan munching on a muffin just as beautiful as 10 years ago.

“Your skills are amazing, would you consider delivering to our company? This is my business card, we will treat you good.”

“That’s for sure.” Said LuHan.

“Can we go now hyung, headache…” Whined Chen.

“Get him a double espresso shot, can you do that precious?” Asked Xiumin.

You dusted your apron and fixed your cap, your first day in this impressive corporation, Kim Minseok gave you the advantage to wonder freely in the last floor, as he said ‘your coffee is like no one else's’ you took pride in that statement and thank the heavens that he was a coffeeholic, this just meant coming more often, you had the faith that Baekhyun will make an appearance.

Before knocking the door to Xiumin’s office you heard your own heartbeats as you swallowed.

“Thank you for considering being part of this Baekhyun, please take a seat.”

_______________________

A/N: Thanks for reading, feedback always welcomed ^_^ 

#baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun series #baekhyun story #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun au #business au #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun business au #exo #exo fanfiction #exo au #exo business au #exo ceo #exo fic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo angst #exo smut #exo scenarios #exo series #angst #smut

[megsblackfirewrites]

The Beginning of a Legacy: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Captain,” Malaha greeted as John and his group stepped into the briefing room.

“Major,” he greeted in return and saluted.

Everyone followed suit, except for Joel, who just tipped his hat like the typical Southern gentleman he tried to style himself as. The Major gave Joel a fond look before she shook her head. Leave it to Joel to charm everyone in high command into not caring if he saluted or not. He’d be charming them out of their wallets if they allowed it; he was good at getting what he wanted. John glanced past Malaha and took stock of the group assembled around the table. Young eyes stared at him, each one a little more nervous than the last.

“So, this is Overwatch?” John asked. “A motley bunch, if nothing else.”

“The best from around the world, Captain Morrison,” Malaha chuckled. “Don’t let their age fool you; they’re as dedicated to this cause as you are and just as qualified.”

“It’s not their dedication I worry about,” John replied as his eyes landed on an enormous young man with barely the beginnings of a beard on his chin. “Why the hell is there a teenager at my table?”

The boy in question grinned widely before he got to his feet, holding a massive hand out towards John. He was easily almost six and a half feet tall and by the looks of him, he wasn’t done growing yet. He wasn’t just tall, either; he was covered in thick muscles. Was it natural for a kid his age to be that ripped? It was sort of disquieting.

“Reinhardt Wilhelm at your service!” he boomed, making Laura squeak in surprise.

Kid had a good set of lungs on him too. At least someone’s voice was going to carry over the battlefield when orders needed to be shouted.

“Captain Morrison,” John replied as he shook the boy’s hand. “That doesn’t tell me why you’re here, kid.”

“Ah, I was nominated from my order,” Reinhardt beamed and puffed his chest out. “We Crusaders are the best that Germany has to offer!”

“Never heard of the group,” John said coldly. “And I question their motives for sending a child to me.”

“John,” Joel elbowed him in the side. “Ease up. I was runnin’ guns when I was his age.”

“Let’s not bring up your sordid past, Joel,” John shot him a look. “It is not a good example to use.”

“Why not? Best they know who they’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “‘Sides, hard to call anyone that’s as big as Reinhardt a kid. Fuck, he’s bigger than I am and I ain’t a short-ass, unlike you, Snow White.”

“Snow White had ebony black hair; I’m more like Cinderella,” John shook his head. “Van is going to be so insulted that you didn’t pay attention to our discussion, Joel. And after she decided you were Robin Hood too.”

“Considerin’ the one she was talkin’ about was a fox, I’m sort of happy about forgettin’ it ‘til this moment,” he teased before winking at Reinhardt. “Little girls are usually pretty good at complimentin’ ya, but they’re just as fast to insult ya thinkin’ they’re being cute. She’d probably call you ‘Little John’ or Ballou cuz a yer size.”

Reinhardt grinned and puffed his chest out even more. Leave it to the kid to take being likened to a bear as a compliment. John did his best not to roll his eyes as Joel leaned on the table.

“How long you serve, Reinhardt?” Joel asked.

“A little over a year, sir,” Reinhardt smiled.

“Ah, don’t sir me; I ain’t the one with the shiny badge on my chest,” Joel laughed. “Just call me Joel. Or McCree; I’ll answer to both.”

“So they’re sending a private instead of an officer,” John growled. “They aren’t fighting their case very well.”

“John, breathe,” Joel shot him a smirk. “Decision’s already been made. Roll with it.”

“I could hit you,” John glared at him.

Joel smirked more and flipped him off. John reached out and cuffed the older man over the head, but all it got him was a gruff laugh and a hand in his hair ruffling it roughly.

“That’s ol’ Cap fer ya,” Joel crowed. “Cares too much fer his own good. Don’t worry, boys and girls, John’ll carry yer busted ass off the battlefield no matter how much he’s cussin’ you out.”

John reached up to try and fix his ruffled hair, glaring at Joel, but it softened at the man’s fond smile. Joel set his hands on his hips before he glanced around at the table.

“So, who else wants to introduce themselves?” he asked. “You know, before the Cap’ is forced to give his military spiel and we’re all reduced to numbers in some jackass’ book.”

A woman rose elegantly to her feet and bowed her head. “Shimada Miyu,” she said with a lighter Japanese accent than John was expecting. “It is an honour to serve with you, Morrison-sama.” She glanced up and smirked at him. “You can return the bow if you wish, just keep your head above mine.”

“I’ll settle for a handshake,” John replied.

“Thank Christ!” Miyu laughed as she reached across the table to shake his hand. “I hate having to deal with Americans that don’t know the first thing about proper bows.”

Joel cackled with glee at her comment and tipped his hat. “Ah, lil lady, I think we’re gunna get along just fine,” he teased.

“I should hope so,” she winked. “We ex-criminals have to stick together.”

“What?” Laura piped up.

Joel lifted his hat a little out of his eyes and squinted at Miyu. Miyu smirked and batted her eyelashes, shifting her shoulders back and forth. Joel threw his head back and laughed, reaching out to thump John’s chest.

“Well I’ll be,” he laughed. “If it ain’t the White Dragon of Hanamura! My, you grew up into a fine young lady, Miss Miyu. I didn’t recognize ya!”

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” John sighed.

“Deadlock and the Shimada clan had some dealin’s over the years,” Joel grinned. “Miyu’s the fine offspring of a powerful yakuza leader. ‘Though, I expect if yer here, that cousin of yers finally managed to wrench control from yer elders.”

“Exactly,” Miyu nodded. “I am here as a peace offering from the Shimada Clan to the Japanese Military.”

“So we’re working with criminals,” a man growled, glaring at Miyu and Joel. “Is this really the best the world has to offer?”

“Who the governments chose to send is out of my control, Sergeant,” Malaha said. “You will just have to deal with it.”

“You expect me to trust criminals to watch my back?” the Sergeant demanded, his dark eyes narrowing. “This is loco.”

“I have no reason to turn on you unless you give me a reason to, Reyes-san,” Miyu inclined her head.

Sergeant Reyes glared at her and said something in Spanish. John’s Spanish was horrible; he’d learned French in high school and the most he could say was “hello” and “where’s the bathroom”. Miyu smiled sweetly at the Sergeant before punching him across the face and knocking him flat on his ass. She gave her fist a shake and set a hand on her hip.

“You know what he said?” John asked as everyone shuffled closer to stare at the dazed man on the floor.

“Not a clue,” she shrugged. “But I know when I’ve been insulted.”

“Pretty sure I heard a puta in there,” Joel chuckled. “So he at least called you a ‘bitch’.”

“Typical,” Miyu smirked before looking at John. “So,” she smiled, “when do we leave?”

“So, you got anyone waiting for you at home, Captain?”

Joel glanced up. Sergeant Reyes still had a beautiful black eye from where Miyu had punched him, but the idiot had at least stopped insulting her when she was in hearing range. He had pitched a fit when John made it clear that Joel was his Second in Command over a “more qualified” military officer. Joel was still waiting for the right moment to pin the man to a wall and shake some sense into him. Now was not the time for his backwards, bro-military logic. They had a dangerous war to win.

“Kid,” John smiled. “Only seven.”

“Look like you or his mom?” Reyes asked.

“Him,” Laura smirked. “Damn near spitting image, if you ask me. Great big blue eyes and corn-gold blond hair. Such a little sweetie.”

“Thank you, Laura,” John shook his head. “I’m sure Jack will love that you said that. He’s always so scared people won’t know he’s my son.”

Laura grinned widely before she returned to listening to her iPod. Joel shook his head in amusement as Reyes lifted an eyebrow at Laura. He clearly didn’t approve of the scout being on the same team as him either. Whether because she was young or inexperienced with military protocol was something Joel still had to puzzle out. Reyes shook his head and turned back to John.

“So, what, you white boys just breed true or something?” he asked.

“Wow, asshole,” Joel called. “My kids look like me too.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Reyes smiled. “You know that, right, gringo?”

John shot him a look and shook his head. Just like the big boss to let insults slide so that no feathers were ruffled. Kid better not think Joel was that nice.

“What about you, Reyes? Who’s waiting at home for you?” John asked.

“Brother, sister-in-law, and their kids,” Reyes smirked.

“How sweet,” John said icily.

“Oh, come on, Cap; I’m just playing around,” Reyes said sweetly. “What’s the matter; can’t take a joke?”

“Jokes should be funny,” Miyu said as she walked over and dropped down between John and Reyes. “Not meant to make someone feel small over something as petty as living family members.”

“I’d listen to the lady,” Joel commented as he readjusted his hat. “Ain’t gunna get anywhere if we’re at each other’s throats over stupid shit like this.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make small talk,” Reyes lifted his hands.

“Then speak of something else,” Miyu replied.

“Fine; what’s home to you?” Reyes demanded.

“A village on top of a hill,” Miyu smiled. “It’s old and swamped by tradition. Tokyo is not far from us, so at night you can see the lights in the sky. It’s beautiful in spring, full of warmth and sunshine. There are cherry blossoms floating everywhere. I miss it.”

“How long you been away, Miyu?” Joel asked.

“Two years,” Miyu looked down at her feet. “I have been protecting the rest of Asia from the omnics. I have not held my cousin’s son since he was born. My cousin tells me that he is expecting another child. I want to be there to hold them at least once.”

“Home’s a farm,” John sighed. “Corn plantations as far as the eye can see. Wide open spaces. Porch with a swing seat. Tire swing hanging from the old oak in the front yard. Chickens running around and pecking at everything. Dirt road all the way up to the highway. Sweet ice tea on a summer night.”

“Sounds like heaven,” Miyu smiled. “What happened to it?”

“Omnics,” John sighed. “Don’t know how much is left of the old farmstead. Could probably save something of it when this hell is done with. What about you, Joel?”

Joel smiled as he tipped his hat back. “Wild west is what I call home,” he chuckled. “Hot sun, sun-baked earth, not a tree fer miles in any direction. Just you, a gun, and whatever mode of transportation you prefer. Used to drive an ol’ pick-up, personally. But, home’s also a warm house filled with the laughter of children. Never thought I’d be much of a family man ‘til my little rugrats were born.”

“Apartment in Bloomington,” Laura said as she pulled an earbud out. “Not overly fancy, but it’s nice. Just me, Dad, and Tigger.”

“A village in Germany,” Reinhardt sighed softly from where he was sitting. “The cool breezes of summer wafting in out of the forest. Homemade bread filling the house. I will never see it again.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured. “Omnics?”

“Ja,” Reinhardt nodded his head. “It is what spurred me into the army so young. There was nothing left of my home and I could not bear the thought of others suffering as I did. I swore I would protect all that I could. I do not plan on breaking that vow ever.”

“What about you, Reyes?” Joel asked. “What’s home to you?”

Reyes shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “A home in L.A,” he grumbled. “Nothing special about it. Just nice and full of people.”

“Any of them actually miss you?” Joel growled in Spanish. Reyes looked at him in surprise and Joel smiled. “What, you really think you’re the only one capable of knowing two languages?”

“Didn’t peg you as being Mexican,” Reyes said. “Little dark.”

“Not Mexican; Navajo,” Joel shrugged. “Learned Spanish in high school and kept at it since it was useful to know. Regardless, you’re a right arrogant bastard. You think only Mexicans can speak Spanish? A good chunk of the fucking world speaks Spanish, jackass.”

“You don’t talk like a white boy, that’s all.”

“And racist to boot,” Joel snorted, wishing he could spit. He was pretty sure the pilot would gut him if he spat in her plane. “Fuckers like you give the rest of us a bad name.”

“Rest of us?” Reyes demanded. “You’re nothing but a half-bred…”

“Oh, finish that sentence,” Joel snarled as he got to his feet, “I dare ya!”

“Joel,” John got to his feet. “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, but it’s not worth it.”

“Yes, listen to your slave driver,” Reyes smirked.

“John, I gotta lot of respect fer ya, but let me handle this,” Joel growled. “This shitstain needs to learn a lesson.”

John looked at him before he gently pulled Miyu to her feet. “You don’t want to be in his way,” he said at her indignant look. “Trust me.”

Joel waited until Miyu and John had moved to a different set of seats before he attacked. The shock in Reyes’ eyes was satisfying as Joel slammed him against the wall. He recovered fast, driving his knee up into Joel’s stomach to make him back off. He underestimated how fast Joel could recover, however, and wasted the few precious seconds to smirk.

Joel surged forward and grabbed Reyes by the head, wrenching him around. He smashed his head to the ground and got an elbow to the jaw during the maneuver. He bit the end of his tongue, filling his mouth with blood as he stumbled back. He grinned, letting Reyes see the gory sight, before he spat on the floor. He wasn’t exactly going to swallow it; he’d clean it up afterwards so the pilot didn’t kill him.

He saw the combat knife emerge from Reyes’ boot as he looked up. He blocked the blow, grinning as he twisted Reyes’ arm under his. He wrenched up, forcing Reyes’ hand open and making him drop the knife.

“Next time you pull a knife,” Joel growled before his machete came free of its sheath, “make sure your opponent doesn’t have a bigger one.” He pressed the blade against Reyes’ cheek and dragged it slowly down the curve of his jaw. “Now remember yer place or yer gunna find out why they call me ‘Coyote’. I ain’t the big boss. I ain’t nice to shits like you.”

He pulled away slowly, running the tip of his machete under Reyes’ trembling chin. He pulled it away swiftly, nicking the skin just enough to make a thin line of red appear. He slipped his machete back into its sheath before heading for the medical supply cupboard in search of something that would make his tongue stop bleeding. Reyes got the message loud and clear.

#John Morrison #Joel McCree #Overwatch #more people introduced #Reinhardt

[madlylovingyou]

Daddy’s Gun, Pt. 4

“You’re all dismissed.”

J waved a hand, and the room full of men and women trailed out silently.

“Who made that executive decision?” He asked with a roll of the eyes. “And where is Frost?”

His second-in-command knew that the Joker didn’t like people. He’d joked around once that the boss hated people, yet surrounded himself with them by owning a nightclub - the only person to get away with that type of joke - and he certainly wouldn’t have allowed an arrangement of prostitutes of all genders for J to sample, now that he was out of prison. It was well known that J didn’t have a preference: sex was sex, just like business was business. But only Frost knew that he didn’t feel a preference for sex, period.

“Frost said he went out to do you a favor, Boss,” someone said. “We thought it would be fun to throw you a little ‘Welcome Home’ party in his absence.” 

“Next time any of you decides to think, do me a favor and shoot yourselves in the head,” he said wearily. “Now get the fuck out and don’t come back unless it’s to tell me that Frost is here.” 

The henchmen left just as silently as the hookers had, heads bowed low at their mistake. 

‘Imbeciles, the lot of them,’ he thought, pressing his index fingers against his temples. ‘I should just fire them all… or better yet, BEHEAD them all…’ 

He could feel a migraine fluttering behind his eyelids. 

‘At least tomorrow is Monday. I’ll have to remember to tell the doc about these fucking headaches, see what she can prescribe…’ He stopped mid-thought. 

 He wouldn’t be seeing Harleen tomorrow. Because he had broken out of Arkham today. 

‘Ah, shit.’ 

He wondered if she’d woken up yet. He knew he’d whammed her good against the wall, but he’d had to; she’d been staring at him like a lovesick teenager and not letting go like she expected him to TAKE HER WITH HIM or something. He could have killed her, shot her right between the eyes like he did the guards, and he’d initially planned to do it- but something told him not to. What had he promised her before he left? Right, Game Night. 

Pulling out a blade, he lazily began pulling it back and forth against the leather strap by the side of his bed, sharpening it. 

'Bet she wouldn’t like my kind of games,’ he thought, grinning to himself. 'I play all KINDS of games.’ But then he remembered the way she’d bucked her hips against his gun, placed her mouth on it. The way his entire body had responded, surprising even him. 

That had been a game, and she’d beaten him at it. 

He tried to pinpoint what exactly about her was pleasing to him. It wasn’t sexual arousal, not really; there wasn’t anything about her physically that he particularly enjoyed. She had a pretty enough face, sure, and a hot body, but those were a dime a dozen. He could pull any girl or boy from the club downstairs if that was all it took. He certainly didn’t feel anything when he thought about penetrating her; he definitely didn’t mind kissing her, but it wasn’t because he enjoyed the physical sensation of it. 

What WAS it? 

Annoyance was intensifying the building pressure behind his eyes. He remembered the feeling of having the gun pressed against her head and focused on that, how she hadn’t been afraid, had even wrapped her hands around his. She’d told him that she belonged to him, and proven it, in that moment. She’d brought him the gun. She hadn’t whimpered or whined or cried, even when he’d shot four guards right in front of her. She’d been fearless. Absolutely fearless. The pleasure shot through him at the realization. 

That was it. 

He’d never met another person like himself, so purely without fear. Everyone else had fear, had weakness, and that was how he’d gotten to the top of this business, by exploiting it. Be it lovers, husbands, wives, money, friends, family, children, everyone feared for something, had something they wanted to protect. Especially when sex was involved: fuck the right person at the right time and they would give anything to protect that, have it again; or to hide that secret, keep it from coming to light. He shivered with joy as he thought about so many of the business deals he’d gotten that way. And here comes this doctor, looking at him with eyes that didn’t have an ounce of fear. 

He tapped the sharpened blade against his teeth in wonder. Didn’t she know who he WAS? She had to know, she was his therapist. She just didn’t care. Genuinely didn’t care. Fearless. 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out her silver phone. Opening the 'Maps’ app, he saw that she had a list of saved locations, with 'Home’ at the very top. He shook his head. 

“You might be fearless, but you haven’t learned the ropes just yet, Doc,” he said to himself. “Never save your location.” 

Not that he’d needed it; Frost had been trailing her for months, since she became his doctor. They’d put a tracker on her car before she’d even had one session with him. Even her home was bugged, cameras and microphones in every room to ensure she wasn’t working for someone on the side, waiting for the right moment to assassinate him. There were people that would KILL for 90 minutes with the Joker. Literally. 

He’d watched the surveillance footage from when she’d gotten the gun; the night guard was on his payroll and slipped him the portable DVD player around midnight. He’d seen the wonder on her face when she’d opened the box, the elated grin as she palmed the weapon in her hands. She’d held it out one-handed, aiming at an invisible target in her apartment before mouthing 'Pow!’ and jerking it back. 

She’d looked like a natural, honestly. 

But he still hadn’t trusted her to do it, not until she undid his restraints and pulled the gun out from between her legs in the solitary room today. God, the woman was FEARLESS. He felt the little whisper of pleasure shiver down his spine again. 

Perhaps he would play a game with her, after all.

“Boss!” 

J pulled the shining purple gun from it’s shoulder holster at being interrupted. “What?” He snarled. 

The henchman froze in the doorway, arms raised. “J-J-Just thought you wanted to know… Frost is back, sir.” 

“Send him in.”

Backing away from the door, the henchman practically tripped and fell in his haste to get back downstairs.

‘Fucking coward,’ Joker thought. ‘Harleen would never.’ Not only had he pulled the piece on her, he’d pressed it right up against her head, and she hadn’t even considered turning tail like that. 

He murmured thoughtfully to himself as he played out the days events over and over in his mind. An idea was beginning to form. It buzzed around his brain, obliterating the annoyance and early migraine, and it had fully taken shape by the time Johnny Frost strode into the room. 

“Never leave those buffoons in charge again,” J said, standing up to embrace Frost with a handshake and a brief hug. Johnny rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t. I told those fuckers not to do shit while I was gone. They cooked up that concoction on their own. You just so happened to make it back before me. And how did you swing that, anyway? I was supposed to pick you up in the car at five. Had the blowtorch ready and everything.” Joker could’ve sworn he saw Johnny pout a bit at being denied the opportunity to bust him out. “By the time I was leaving the hardware store, it was all over the news that you had escaped. 

“Doctor Harleen Quinzel.” Joker rolled the name around on his tongue. “She actually brought the piece in, Johnny.”

“No fucking way.”

J nodded. “You should have seen her. Strode right into the solitary room and pulled it out from under her skirt like she had done it a million times before. Didn’t even flinch when I killed the guards.” He didn’t mention the moment that Harleen and he had shared with the purple pistol; Johnny didn’t have to know everything. “I knocked her out and used her phone to call one of the boys to pick me up.”

“You… knocked her out?” Frost raised one eyebrow at him inquiringly; J hadn’t become the King of Gotham by knocking people out.

He shrugged. “I think she could be useful. Most of the idiots downstairs aren’t good for much other than strapping them into a panda head and handing them an AK-47. They’re dispensable, which is good, but also idiots, which is annoying. You can’t be everywhere at once, Frost. Today proved that. It might be a good idea to consider bringing someone else into the fold.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Frost hadn’t met the doc, but he trusted J’s judgment completely. After all, years ago, he’d seen something in Johnny himself, promoting him from a lowly getaway driver to his right-hand man after only six months of service. “So what do you want to do?”

 “I promised her a Game Night,” J said with a wicked grin. “So I think we’ll have to pay her a little visit. And bring the deck of cards.”

#jxhq #mad love #fanfic #mine

[omegaquinnfabray]

Welcome to My Life

Sometimes, she just had to get away.  Quinn knew that she shouldn't feel that way when she had Alpha that was devoted to her...or at least sort of devoted to her...but Omega or not she was still only human.  So when those moments came she liked to pack up a book and head to Granny Smith's.  The little bakery with the punny name was her refuge, a quiet place where she could eat something sweet and read her book without anyone disturbing her.  Puck didn't know where she went, her parents didn't know, and so it was safe.  And she loved Granny; a lovely older Beta named Alice who always seemed to know just what she needed before Quinn had even realized it herself. "Good morning, Alice," Quinn called as she ducked in out of the rain, having shielded herself with the hood of her comfortable sweater as she ran from the car.  "If you have some coffee ready, you are going to be my hero.  The weather out there just sucks, and I'm in the mood to warm up a little.  And something really sweet, please, I have a craving today."

It had only been a couple of days since Shay had officially taken over the business from Granny Alice. Shay had known the woman since she was very young. She had been her babysitter and her best friend's grandmother and so she had spent a lot of time at the bakery. However, after her father had passed away, they had moved for her mother's job. And so Shay had only recently returned to the city. Granny had been talking about selling or at least going into business for years and so when she had become a bit more serious, Shay had jumped on the opportunity. It gave her something to put her time and effort into and also gave Granny a chance to relax. Hearing the bell on the door, Shay moved into the front, stopping in her tracks. The sight and the smell that awaited her was one that almost threw her to the ground and certainly caused a stirring in her pants. She had never been affected this greatly by an omega before and it was overwhelming. "Sorry uh...Granny isn't here today. But I...I do have coffee."

Quinn's head snapped up at the new voice, and for a moment her mouth went dry.  Alpha.  Her brain filled in for her, almost sarcastically.  And also wow.  She pushed the hood back on her sweater, wanting a better view, and for much too long she couldn't muster a response.  Finally her brain stepped in one more time to remind her that in the real world people actually had to talk, and she blushed a deep red.  "I am so sorry," she shook her head.  "I didn't know she'd hired anyone new!  It's lovely to meet you, though," Quinn offered a hand. "And if you have coffee, I would love one very much.  Are any of the sweets ready this morning?  No big deal if they're not, I promise, I was just hoping for something to sink my teeth into."  She held up her book, as if it explained what she might be looking for, and internally rolled her eyes at herself.  She was acting like a distracted teenager.

"Oh that's alright. It happened quite quickly. Granny has been looking for a way to take more time for herself. So that is where I step in. I've known her for a very long time but just moved back." She was sure that this girl didn't care at all but she couldn't stop the facts from falling from her lips. Her hand reached out and grasped the omega's and she didn't want to let go. "Pleasure is all mine. I'm Shay." "We have a variety of things ready for the day." Shay offered with a smile. "What are you feeling this morning?" Shay asked, moving over to showcase the window of different sweets. "What do you take in your coffee?" Shay questioned, grabbing a cup and pouring a generous amount. She would remember this order, she was sure. Every movement she made was one that didn't keep her eyes off of the omega for long.

"Good for her," Quinn smiled.  Granny might not have been an old lady just yet, but she wasn't getting any younger either.  "And it's nice to know that the bakery is in good hands.  Welcome back to the city, I hope you ended up moving back for a nice reason?"  Their handshake was simple, but Quinn was strangely tempted to pull the woman into a hug - which would have been inappropriate for about a million reasons.  "Shay - what a lovely name!  I'll certainly remember that one."  Quinn slapped her forehead internally yet again, knowing she sounded like an idiot. Her whole countenance lit up at the trays of food, and she was immediately sure that Granny had trusted the right person to run her shop.  "Two creams, please," she smiled shyly.  "And I would dearly love an apple muffin."  It had been a long time since she'd had to pick out her own baked goods, but Quinn was sure she'd get used to the idea soon enough - because she was going to be in the bakery a lot more now.

"I think it's good for her as well. She'll still be in but limited to Monday's and Tuesday's I believe. I think that's what she has chosen." Shay said with a soft laugh. "Yes, I was just ready to come back home. That's all." Shay assured her, not really understanding why she wanted to be so open and honest with this girl. "Two creams. I'm going to remember that." Shay responded,  finishing the coffee and then grabbing a muffin and placing it on a plate. She handed them both over and smiled. "I hope you enjoy." Shay bit down on her bottom lip. "Is the apple muffin your favorite?"

Quinn was both relieved to hear that Alice would still be able to take some time for the bakery and also already planning ahead to make sure that she saw both Shay and Alice as often as possible.  Shay had already done a number on her, somehow, and Quinn already looked forward to the next time they met.  "Oh, is this your hometown, then?  I'm so happy you could come back!" Something told her that Shay really would remember that, and it was a nice feeling.  "Thank you so much," she beamed.  "To tell you the truth, I don't know if I have a particular favorite.  Maybe it's just my nature, but I loved it when Granny would pick something out for me.  She always knew just what I needed, every time.  But I do love the apple," she admitted.

"It is! Grew up here. Left with my mom when I was fourteen and now I'm back. This has just always felt like home more than anywhere else. So here I am once again." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "And I am very happy that I am back as well. Are you from here?" She hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not Granny. But I will do my best to pick something out for you next time you come in." Shay promised, smile widening at the thought of one day becoming good enough to know exactly what this girl needed when she came into her shop. There was just something within her that wanted to care for her and get to know her.

"That's such great news, and I'm thrilled for you.  If you need anything at all while you get settled back in, then please just ask and I'll be happy to do anything I can."  She was making promises she really shouldn't be, but Quinn felt like she couldn't control her mouth.  "I am!  Born and raised - descended from one of the founding families, actually." Quinn smiled, tucking a few blonde hairs behind her ear.  "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time, and Granny can probably give you some advice."  She hesitated.  "Normally I come in and read at one of the back tables, but would you mind if I took a seat at the counter today?"  She wanted to talk, and sitting at the table with her nose in her book wouldn't help that.

"Thank you. That's really kind of you to offer." It was somehow surprising and not surprising that she was offering. There was just something there that Shay couldn't quite put her finger on. But she didn't want to stop talking to her.She quirked an eyebrow when Quinn said that she was part of one of the founding families. "So I'm talking to Lima royalty am I? Interesting. Sorry I have been so causal, your highness." Shay teased lightly. "Well...I think I'd like to get to know you and try to figure it out on my own." The alpha within her, for some reason, hadn't liked the idea of learning something about her from someone else. "I don't mind that at all. So long as you don't mind me bouncing around to get some things done." Shay responded with a smile, making a coffee for herself and then double checking that everything was set up the way that she wanted it to be.

Quinn flushed a little, knowing that the casual offer probably seemed a lot like overstepping but unable to take it back now.  Burying her face in her hands, she laughed quietly.  "That's me, the Princess out in her hoodie and sweats.  Who hasn't even told you her name, because she's apparently a rude princess.  Quinn Fabray.  Who's definitely not royalty, so you don't need to be anything but casual with me." The thought of Shay getting to know her warmed Quinn from the inside out.  "In that case, I can't wait to see what you recommend for me next time."  Which would come a lot sooner than it might have, were it not for their meeting.  "I don't mind at all!  Do what you need to do, and I'll be right here when you get back."

The flush was absolutely adorable and Shay found herself wanting to be the cause of that again. "Quinn...beautiful name." She replied softly, her alpha pleased that this omega had told her her name without prompting. She had wanted to. And for some reason that felt important and special. "I'll be thinking about it." Shay promised. "Brilliant." It was nice to know that Quinn wouldn't mind or find her rude at all. She took a sip of her coffee and then moved into the back for a few moments to check on everything there. When she was satisfied, she moved back into the front, somehow feeling her heart stutter again from the sight of her.

"Thank you," Quinn beamed.  Shay's approval felt...well, there was only one way to put it.  That approval was something she craved.  To know that the Alpha thought she had a pretty name meant far more to her than she'd have expected.  "I got lucky in the name lottery, considering they called my sister Frannie." She'd planned to be at the bakery for hours, and Quinn knew there was no reason she had to leave.  So she set her bag down, cradled her cup of coffee in both hands, and watched with a starstruck gaze as Shay puttered around the shop.  By the time she returned Quinn was halfway through her muffin and had nearly emptied her coffee, all without even noticing.

Her nose wrinkled slightly and she laughed. "That's a choice. I'm not one to judge though. My parents did name me Sheridan. Which is..also a choice." She said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. She wasn't the biggest fan, which was why she usually went by Shay. "Is your sister older or younger than you?" Curious if the name choices got worse or better from Quinn's parents. "Good muffin?" She questioned, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. "Would you like a refill?" The alpha questioned. She wasn't sure how long Quinn would be there. But it couldn't hurt to be polite.

Quinn wondered how it was that Shay managed to become more likeable every time that she spoke.  "I like Sheridan," she admitted.  "But Shay is a gorgeous way to shorten it."  Somewhere in her brain, it seemed like everything was short-circuiting and she literally couldn't stop blurting things out.  "Older," her reply was a bit wistful.  "She mated and moved away a long time ago, and we don't really talk much."  Why would Shay want to know that?  Quinn didn't know but she'd told her all the same. "Delicious," she smiled.  "Everything here is.  And if it wouldn't be any trouble, I would love a refill, thank you."  Quinn felt at home in Shay's company, happy to spend the rest of the day in the bakery.

"Thank you, Quinn. That's very sweet of you." She uttered gently, chest puffing out with pride that Quinn liked her name. This was the most alpha like she had acted in a long while and she hoped that she wasn't putting her off at all. "I'm sorry to hear that. Clearly she's missing out though." "It's not too much trouble at all." She took the mug and easily topped it off before slipping it in front of the other. She grabbed a bench and pulled it before Quinn, claiming that spot and breathing in the soft scent of the blonde. It had such a soothing component to it. And that was something that she just wanted to give into as much as she possibly could. For as long as Quinn would let her.

Perhaps it should have made Quinn nervous.  Or uncomfortable.  She had an Alpha at home, and he wouldn't have liked it.  But Quinn was none of those things.  Rather, Shay's pride in the compliment and the way that she reacted felt good.  Like she'd made someone happy that she was meant to.  "You're very welcome, Shay."  Her smile turned a little sad as they talked about her elder sister.  "It's okay - I know that she's living a good life, and that's the important thing.  I'm just..." Quinn almost finished the sentence with an omega, but recovered from her stumble.  "Just her little sister, she's got higher priorities." Quinn accepted the mug with quiet thanks, soaking in its warmth and the way that it made her feel knowing Shay had poured it for her.  As she claimed a seat Quinn unconsciously moved just a little closer.  "So, what's your favorite place in Lima?"

The fumble of words and the look on Quinn's face made Shay feel a bit uncomfortable but she brushed it off. She didn't want to push too far, too quickly. "I feel like I'm cheating if I say here. But it's true so I'll give you two answers. This is definitely my favorite place. I have lots of great memories here with Granny...her granddaughter...and my parents. Like super great memories that really helped form me. Other than here though...I think my favorite place would have to be the river. I spent a good chunk of time there too." Shay expressed with a nod. "How about you?"

"I don't think that's cheating," Quinn would have let her get away with it in any case, of course, but she did think it was fair to love the bakery.  Especially if Shay had formed so many good memories there.  "Is the river just for sitting on the banks?  Or do you fish or anything like that?"  Quinn knew that at least a few people in town still caught and ate fish from the river.  "For me...I will cheat the same as you and say here.  This is my favorite spot, and when I need to relax this is where I come." She considered the rest of the town, and how each part of it made her feel.  "But if I had to pick another place it'd be the library.  There's nothing like that quiet calm that always seems to surround you while you're there, you know?"

"Sitting. Swimming. Fishing. Any and all of the above. Granny's granddaughter and I used to spend most of our summer there or in this bakery." Shay explained. "The library is a great choice." Shay agreed, finishing off her coffee just as a customer came into the store. She offered Quinn a smile and then moved to serve them, taking a bit of time because it was another regular that she needed to explain things to. It was at that point that thingd started picking up and Shay moved about like a pro fixing up orders and having conversations with some of the people that remembered her from when she was younger.

Quinn smiled.  "That sounds really nice.  I never played much around the river, but I know a lot of kids used to."  It wasn't something girls did, at least according to the wisdom of Russell Fabray, especially not omega girls who needed to be pretty and proper to find an Alpha who would want them. "It was always one of my favorites, definitely."  She heard the bell above the door and pulled away just a little, letting Shay turn her attention to the new arrival and merely observing as she sipped at her warm coffee.  Quinn watched with awe as Shay flew into action, looking for all the world like a seasoned pro who'd never been away from the bakery a moment in her life.  Watching like it was the greatest movie she'd ever seen, Quinn felt whatever was magnetically pulling her to Shay grow even stronger.

#verse: my beginning and my end #thread: welcome to my life

[beatmagazine]

Elf Lyons - Typically Different

With her new show Pelican out on the road to brighten up the otherwise gloomy months of January, February and March, and a new-new show kicking off straight after that, Elf Lyons isn’t one for hanging ‘round.

After high-tailing it from Bristol Uni to London in 2012, Elf has spent the past four years building a reputation for her fresh, playful, brilliantly scripted and often plain weird live shows. She’s picked up a string of 5 star reviews and a growing crowd of fans along the way.

Elf took a late night quiet moment to talk to us about Pelican, writing and why eating sausages in the morning is weird.

photo by Andy Hollingworth

Hi, Elf. How are you?

Great. At the time of writing this it is 1am, I’ve just eaten a bar of Green & Blacks Mint chocolate in the bath, and I’ve got a new lava lamp.

Describe a typical day in the Life of Elf.

Typically, each day is typically very different to the one before - but usually each one is very sexy, full of fun, including ten parts coffee, one ‘Oh Fuck Moment’, at least five costume changes, twenty cuddles and human interactions, Magic FM on full and one moment of wobbly cellulite nudity. Either accidental or on purpose.

This last week alone I did a new magic comedy striptease in French, a tax return, my drag night The Matron Presents, some awful gym activities involving squats - causing me to walk like Clint Eastwood with an erection, attended a ball for the Inspired4Life charity, taught a comedy workshop for teenagers, re-edited Pelican, rewrote a short script and came fourth in a film pub quiz. So overall, busy.

You've done a load of shows at The Etcetera Theatre, regularly compère at Camden Comedy Club and host an LGBT comedy night at Her Upstairs; you're a bit of a Camden legend. Which has been your favourite role so far and why?

I couldn’t pick a favourite role - they all congeal together to make this huge big bulbous colourful globule of memories which encapsulates my whole weird experience of Camden.

There is a growing idea that Camden is past it, that it's relevancy and culture died with indie and Amy Winehouse. Do you think that's fair? Does Camden have more to offer than tat for tourists and unaffordable rent, particularly for young people?

Camden is about the alternative, trying new things out and taking a risk. Sure it is a tourist attraction, and there are many other developing areas of London with their own cool creative hubs which are blossoming - Peckham, Brixton, Shoreditch to name a few. But like so many other bits of London, you just need to look past the high street and you’ll see that there is a thriving creative community that isn’t difficult to get involved in. There are music gigs, poetry gigs, queer gigs, political stand up gigs, lots of new theatre and community projects going on.

To make one person, like Amy Winehouse, the emblem of the culture of a town undercuts the other creative aspects of the area. Comedy in particular has always been vibrant - since I first started doing comedy and still now. Yes - Camden is so much more expensive, but still hosts some of the only affordable central performance spaces for artists to showcase their work. If it wasn’t for festivals like the Camden Fringe it would be far harder for artists to get their work seen.

It may not be perfect but is it part of the patchwork quilt of London’s creative scene.

Now that you're back home, what was the highlight of your time at L'Ecole Philipe Gaulier?

Gaulier was all my favourite coming of age films in one. Like Dirty Dancing except based in a tiny little cramped run down part of Paris, with only one bar and 50 of the weirdest people you’ve ever met. And Patrick Swayze was replaced by a love-hate frenchman who resembled a bowling ball. Rumplestiltskin - if he had discovered crocs, fine millinery and whisky. It was fantastic!

One highlight was meeting my comedy soul mate Ryan Lane.

Ryan and I learnt the Parent Trap handshake on our first week together of Le Jeu and that birthed a relationship akin to step-siblings. We write well together and since our success in creating characters we have teamed up and are developing our play Hilda & The Spectrum - which we are previewing around the UK from March and then the Edinburgh Festival.

The great thing about Gaulier was that it helped birth so many surreal and stupid ideas that I would have felt too ridiculous to consider developing back in London. It taught me to be free and to feel less reserved about looking an idiot. You learn that as long as you are performing with complete joy - nothing matters but that moment - no matter how stupid it is.  

London or Paris?

Tough. London has the dress sense and the quirks, the better coffee (I will fight any french barista on this point) and unlike Paris we are allowed to sit on the grass in our parks. But, Paris has the attitude and there is nothing more beautiful than Bautes Chaumont. Their queer scene is great and there’s something just fantastic about the way Parisians host things. There is a real artistry to it.

Also - the bread... my god... the bread.

Croissant and coffee or full English?

Croissant and coffee. Always. I think eating sausages in the morning is really weird.

Being Barberella photo by Will Hazell

What does your writing process involve and where do you look for inspiration?

I pick a subject, anything: from the underground / politics / porn legislation / Barbie etc - research it, play with it, learn about it, then meet someone and talk to them about it, get drunk, argue about it, then after I’ve ruminated on it enough I’ll then improvise around it on stage and see what comes.

I like to give myself challenges - for example: the new show is a one woman production of Swan Lake. I don’t know ballet - so I am going to have to learn. Challenge No 1. Challenge No 2? I want to do the whole thing in french. Because, why not? Problem is I can’t speak french. So I am learning french.

Crucially I read tons (every day in the morning) and that really helps - with language, words, ideas and reference. I recommend reading as much as you can. Everything and anything.

What advice do you have for young, female writers who struggle with confidence and believing in their creative output?

Once you have decided to book yourself a gig / open spot / venue / whatever it is, you need to actually get your act together and showcase to people what is going on in that wonderful head of yours. Accept that you are going to be crap for a while and at random points doing what you want to do. You’ll be great one day, on top of the world, and the next day you will be awful. THAT IS NORMAL. Embrace it and laugh it off.

There is nothing more dignified than trying an idea, it not working and you going “Okay. That sucked. What’s next?”. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You need to be rubbish in order to be good - so lose any pride you have about being bad, lose your ego, get on stage and get ghastly. AND DROP THOSE FRIENDS WHO MAKE YOU FEEL BAD FOR TRYING IDEAS AND TAKING RISKS. If your friends make you feel ashamed, don’t invite them to your gig.

Going on stage and trying out an idea is the equivalent of showing your working out for a difficult equation on a maths paper - people appreciate seeing your process, not just your end result. SO TAKE RISKS AND PLAY WITH DIFFERENT WAYS OF DOING THINGS.

Remember - each time you do whatever it is you want to do, in front of a crowd - it will get easier. You’ll become familiar with how your body reacts to nerves and to audiences and you’ll be able to plan your gigs accordingly - based on how you know you work in order to get ‘in the zone’.

And read lots. Read and read and read.  And watch as much live work as you can.

Your blog post on polyamory genuinely made us laugh out loud. Firstly: art gallery or Nando's?

Art Gallery. Always.

Secondly: have you ever actually had sex in Nando's?

No comment.

You're a queer woman in a very male-heavy field. Have you experienced any difficulties because of it?

I am lucky that I gig with wonderful people on a lovely circuit and have been blessed with not facing any horridness. I know many other people who haven’t been as lucky.

When you aren't blogging naked or writing hit comedy shows, what are you watching on Netflix?

Recently watched the DIVINE documentary which was fantastic and any film with Diane Keaton in it, as she is a goddess.  And Drag Race.

And how excited are you for Stranger Things season 2 on a scale of 1-11, or are you more of an OA girl?

I’ve never seen OA and I’m excited about ST on about a level 5. Give me Daredevil and Jessica Jones any day.

How do you prepare for your live shows?

Rene Bazinet taught us some Feldenkrais techniques at Gaulier and since then I’ve become obsessed. It makes my body feel like a calm loose piece of cotton.

You wear some interesting things on stage. What's been your favourite outfit so far?

Hayley Cherkas has designed my last two costumes for Pelican and Being Barbarella and I love them both so much. She’s a fantastic young designer. She sees exactly what I see in my head and translates it to paper and to fabric, in such a beautiful way. Her technique and designs are masterful. She has a great eye. Through her choice of materials, silhouette and cut she balances the surreal with the elegant in a way that makes me feel glamorous whilst still capable to move and play the fool on stage. I like that bizarre balance. She makes me feel like a High Fashion Malvolio.

Writing or performing?

Can’t choose. It’s like picking a puppy over a kitten.

After the Pelican mini-tour, what have you got on for 2017?

Hilda & The Spectrum with Ryan Lane at The Old Joint Stock Theatre in Birmingham in March, alongside previews of my new show (like at The Old Joint Stock Birmingham amongst others) from March. Perhaps back to Gaulier. The Matron Presents is back on the penultimate Wednesday every month at Her Upstairs from March, and finally I also have some writing and filming projects under way...

Favourite Simone de Beauvoir quote?

“The body is not a thing, it is a situation: it is our grasp on the world and our sketch of our project”

= I remind myself of this when I start hating on my curves and my bits.

“To be oneself, simply oneself, is so amazing and utterly unique an experience that it’s hard to convince oneself so singular a thing happens to everybody”

= I think about this when people watching on the underground.

And finally, do you really want to kill your mother?

What do you take me for?

Elf Lyon’s Pelican is on tour around the UK throughout February and into March 2017. Firestation tickets are here, or full details on Elf’s website.

Interview by Louisa Austin

#elf lyons #comedy #gig #interview #comedian #tour #uk