#anyway that same day it got stolen again. by the same kid. that kid stole so much shit from me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Field Trip

A/N: I’ve been working on this pic for a while, I hope you guys like it :)

Pairing: Jake Sim x fem! reader

Word count: 5.2k

Genre: fluff, high school au

Warning: mentions of virginity loss and porn, occasional swearing, nothing else I think

“How many shirts should I take?” Jake asks you through your phone.

“Uhm, we’re there for three days so take four just incase.” you reply and you pack your suitcase as well.

You two were preparing for your five day field trip to New York which was happening tomorrow.

You packed your favorite jeans and hoodies and even a dress just in case. You can't help but romanticize the hell out of New York after being stuck in this small town all your life.

“How many pairs of underwear should I take?” he asks again and you giggle. He’s like a kid sometimes. “How many times do you think you’ll change your underwear?” you say while sitting on your suitcase to get it to zip closed.

“Probably three but I’ll take four just in case.”

“What a quick learner.” you say and you hear him scoff.

Jake has been your best friend since elementary school when you scraped your knee during tag and he took you to the nurse’s office. He’s been a sweetie since day one.

“I doubt I’m gonna get any sleep tonight,” you sigh. “I’m too riled up.”

“Same,” he sighs. “I wonder how many flashers we’ll run into.”

You laugh. “Why is that the first thing you think of you creep.”

“Hey now,’ he chuckles. “I thought that was the stereotype.”

You hop onto your bed and pick your phone up, it looks like Jake’s doing the same. All you can see are his eyes and a bit of his nose bridge. His dark hair has started to grow out and it was poking at his eyelids.

Your phone pings with a text from Jake. It’s a horrendous screenshot of you climbing over your phone to get into bed. You gasp.

“I’ll kill you.” you tell him as he’s holding in his laugh. “I will do it.”

His laugh bursts out of his throat, jolly and warm. “Why I love it.”

“I hate you so much. Delete it.”

“No way,” he bunches his brows. “You have an entire photo album dedicated to bad pictures of me.”

“And I also have an entire album dedicated to good pictures of you.” you roll your eyes.

“You do?” he asks. “That’s a bit fangirly of you.”

“Me? A fangirl? Maybe Madeline but not me.” you scoff.

“Madeline?” his voice perks up. “She likes me?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew this.” you swear that you’ve brought this up before. Maybe he just forgot.

“Nuh-uh.” he says.

“Well...” you say. “do you like her back.”

“I mean she’s nice but,” he hesitates. “not really.”

“Why not? She’s smart and super pretty. I'm so jealous of her hair.” you say. Madeline was a tan ginger girl with curly fiery hair down to the small of her back.

“You have nice hair.” he says nonchalantly.

You touch it and rub it between your fingers. “It’s whatever.”

He scoffs. “You’re too hard on yourself all the time.”

“I’m a teenage girl, I can’t help it.” You defend yourself, but he isn’t lying.

“I’m bored, can I come over?” he says suddenly.

“Tonight? We have school tomorrow.” you reply.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep over.” he says while turning over in his bed. “I don’t think our parents would care.”

Sleepover? You two hadn’t done that since you turned eleven.

“Where would you sleep?” you ask him, already imagining how this would go.

“I don’t know on the floor.” he shrugs.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor I’ll feel bad.” you argue.

“I don’t care, I’m the one who suggested it, plus I miss you dude, I wanna hang out.” he says and you smile.

“I saw you on Friday.”

“Yeah, a whole two days ago.” he gets up off his bed. “Okay I’ll be there in ten.”

“What-” you start but he cuts you off.

He brings the camera up close to his face and he flashes you a smile. “Bye!” he hangs up.

Your palms feel a bit sweaty and you brush them off on your pants. Why am I nervous? You guys have had plenty of sleepovers before but the rest of the boys were always there, probably passed out from beer or a sugar crash.

You tidy your room up a bit and prepare a little blanket bed on the floor right next to your actual bed.

You hear knocking at the door right when you expected, Jake was hardly ever late.

“Hola~” he says as he walks in with his backpack on. He takes his shoes off before skipping over to your room. You giggle to yourself.

He falls back onto your bed with a big sigh. “I missed being here.”

“Why? There’s nothing cool here. Your house is way cooler.” you say and he smiles.

“Well I can’t deny that,” he shrugs and you punch him in the arm. “you’re the one who said it.”

“We get it rich boy.” you roll your eyes and sit down next to him.

“I’m just playing,” he sits up. “you know that.”

“I hope you showered after practice,” you say. “I don’t want you stinking up my bed.”

He whips his head to you, looking a little bit offended. “I am very clean alright? Here smell my hair.” he shoves his head into your face.

You let out a strangled noise and try to push him away. “Okay, okay!”

“No smell it,” he keeps his hair up in your face, it’s tickling your nose. “smells like mangos right.”

Admitedly, he's right. It smells like mangos.

“Yes it does,” you squeak out. “now please respect my personal bubble.” you spread your arms out and create an imaginary bubble between you two. He tries to tug at your arm but you bellow in a robot voice. “PERSONAL BUBBLE PERSONAL BUBBLE.”

“Fine, fine.” he falls back onto your bed again, laughing. “Lets watch something.”

You follow suit and tug your laptop into your lap.

“Hold on,” you get up and close your window, it was starting to get too cold.

You shimmy under your covers and pull up Netflix.

“Scary movie?” you click on the horror section.

“Sure but you probably won’t be able to sleep.” he teases and you roll your eyes.

“That was years ago.” you start to scroll through the movies.

“Mhm, and I’m never letting you live it down.” he says with pride.

During freshman year the gang decided to go to Jay’s house to watch It together and it freaked you out so much that you went to sleep in the boys room rather than the guest room.

You click on Hush, a movie you’ve been avoiding because it’s about one of your biggest fears, a home invasion.

“I thought you hated this movie.” Jake says, crossing his arms. “I do, but I need to face my fears eventually right?” you click on it and get up to turn the lights off.

Jake soon gets under the covers as well. You both cringe and slap each other every time your feet touch.

“Yo yo yo yo watch out!” Jake whispers and pulls his hood over his head, something you both do when you’re nervous. You weren’t wearing a hoodie so you settled with a spare blanket and draped it over yourself like a cloak.

“Oh shit,” you whisper. “look behind you!” you yell at the main character.

By the end of the movie both of your bodies are stiff and sore from being so tense for two hours straight.

“I thought she was gonna die.” you sigh and you shut your laptop.

“Nah, they couldn’t kill the main girl.” Jake says, comfy and cuddled up in your duvet. “She was so smart.”

“Yeah she was.” you yawn and then kick Jake in the side. “Go to your bed.”

He groans. “It’s warm here though.”

“Go and I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.” you say.

He perks up and follows your orders.

You relax into your mattress, but you miss his warmth next to you. You ignore that.

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 and Jake sleeps right through it.

“How the hell does he get up in the morning?” you whisper. “Probably Leila.”

He’s sleeping on his side, cuddling a stuffed animal he must’ve stolen from your bed while you were asleep.

You stretch your back before washing up.

Jake’s POV

My serene sleep is interrupted by pokes at my shoulder.

“Get up poop.” she says. I almost forgot that I was at her house. I crack my eyes open to find her crouching next to me.

“Good morning.” I croak out.

“You stole ginger.” she points at the stuffed bunny in my arms.

“I was lonely.” I say before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“7:30,” she says holding in a giggle. “go wash up so we can eat.”

“What’s so funny?” I ask her as she walks away. “You’ll see when you look in the mirror.” she says.

My eyes widen. Did she draw a dick on my forehead or something? I thought we swore to never do that.

I scramble to her bathroom to meet some gnarly bedhead. I have no clue how guys have good messy hair, my hair is either boring and flat or just messy.

“Jesus.” I say to myself and try to run my head under the sink.

I brush my teeth and secretly use her facial cleanser.

“So fancy.” I whisper while lathering it up on my face.

I can already hear her voice in my head when I’m drying off saying “don't forget to put lotion on, and face lotion, not body.”

A stack of pancakes is waiting for me in the kitchen, just as she promised.

“Thank you mom.” I say to her before digging in.

She sits across from me with her own plate of flap jacks. She looks so pretty this early in the morning. Her face is fresh and sparkly and her eye bags somehow just make her prettier. It’s cloudy out and I can tell she’s cold she way her body is bundled up in her chair.

I still remember the moment I realized that I liked her. It was seventh grade and we were at our town’s annual fair. She got a bit sick after a ride with a lot of loopdey loops so I stayed behind with her while the rest of the boys continued to go on every ride they pleased. She told me to go with them and that she didn’t want me to miss out but I said that it was fine and that I liked hanging out with her anyway. She smiled her bright smile at me and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Then she threw up on my shoes. Like projectile cotton candy, funnel cake, and other miscellaneous fair food vomit. And I didn’t even get that mad, I was more concerned for her. After that I figured I liked her, because if it were Jay I would’ve beat him up.

“Did you have any nightmares?” I ask her and she shakes her head.

“Nah, I dreamt that Sunghoon married a dolphin. It was weird.” she sighs.

I choke on my pancakes. “A dolphin?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “his name was Jerry.”

“And it was a guy too?” I hold my chest, trying not to choke.

“Don’t judge their interspecies homosexual marriage. It was beautiful.” she laughs and takes a big gulp of water.

I’m almost crying at this point. “Best dream ever. I can’t wait to tell Sunghoon this.”

“No!” her eyes widen. “He’s gonna think I fantasized about it or something.”

“What?” I cock an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that dreams are uncontrollable sometimes.” “Still it’s weird. Imagine if someone told you that I dreamt of you marrying a dolphin. It’s be weird.” she says through a mouth of pancake.

“Did they have kids?” I cackle,

“I don’t know. How would that even work?”

“Maybe they had a surrogate or something.” I suggest.

“Oh god,” she shakes her head, smiling. “we need to stop. I feel like I'm violating him.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Should I wear this shirt or this sweater.” she asks me as we’re getting ready in her room.

“Sweater. It’s probably gonna be cold.” I say while tugging socks on.

“Shit you’re right. Then I won’t be able to wear this dress.” she holds up a little dress that flows out a bit from the waist.

“Bring it anyway and maybe you can wear it for a second so I can take pictures for you.” I suggest and she smiles.

“Good idea.”

We both settle of hoodies and jeans and say goodbye to her parents before hopping in my car.

We get to school right when people start getting on the bus to the airport. We throw our luggage into the bottom carrier and get in line.

“Yo!” I hear a familiar voice call as we get on. “We saved seats for you guys.”

Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki have already gotten comfortable in the back of the bus. Niki was already asleep. Y/N couldn’t help but pat his head before settling down next to Jungwon. The bus wasn’t a school one but one of those fancy ones they bring out once a year.

I sit down next to Sunghoon and dap him up.

“What’s up.” I say while putting my backpack down by my feet.

“Tired.” he says. “Valentina kept me up all night.”

I raise an eyebrow and he smirks.

“For real?” I ask and he nods. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” he says and holds up a fist.

I fist bump him and pat him hard on the shoulder.

“You’re a man now Sunghoon.” I congratulate him and he snickers.

“What does that make you then?”

“I’m taking my time alright? I’ll get there eventually.” I say, a little embarrassed.

I look back to check out what she’s doing when we start to drive off. She’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Jungwon’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to dose off too. Cute.

Sunghoon and I watch a couple episodes of Death Note before we arrive at the airport. Sunoo shakes Y/N and Jungwon up.

She’s still groggy as we walk into the airport and grabs onto my arm for leverage. My heart jumps a little. It’s not often that we touch despite how much I think about touching her. I could stare at her back all day. She could ignore me for the rest of my life and I’d still be happy to be in her presence. Mental note to all of you: do NOT let your feelings get to this point.

Soon we’re on the plane and she chooses to sit next me. I silently celebrate. Sunoo and Sungoon behind us, Heeseung and Niki next to us, and Jay and Jungwon in front of us. Sunoo pokes his head over her seat.

“Do you have chapstick I can borrow.” he asks with his blonde hair flopping over his forehead.

She digs into her bag and hands him a small tin of lip balm.

“Thank you!” he says and she nods.

“Are you that tired?” I ask her.

“Mhm,” she sighs and shuts her eyes. “I forgot to drink coffee this morning.”

I put in my AirPods and start to watch Lady Bird. She looks over and takes an AirPods out of my ear.

“I wanna watch too.” she say and puts it in her own.

We take off for the six hour trip and soon Y/N is sound asleep. Her head kept dropping forward so I pushed it up and pulled it to rest on my shoulder. This was not on purpose. I can’t help but snap a picture of her and add it to the good pictures of her album. She looks so peaceful and comfortable and gorgeous. I lay my head on hers for a moment before continuing the movie.

Y/N’s POV

After two hours of unsatisfying sleep, and hour of gossip with Sunoo, and three hours of chit chat with Jake you finally arrive. You sit up and stretch as best as you can in the plane. You pull you backpack onto my back and get you luggage down from the overhead bin. It’s already five p.m. when we get off and your stomach is growling.

We take another bus to the hotel and you can’t help but admire the city life as we drive there.

You’re roomed with two other girls at the hotel but you don’t even bother unpacking. You know you’re gonna be in the boys’ room anyway.

Mrs. Gilroy gave us tonight to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back at the hotel by ten p.m.

You sneak into Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon’s room as soon as you can. And when you get there, it’s already a mess.

“Good lord.” you say as you’re met with clothes all over the floor and mini bottles of liquor on the beds.

“You guys are drunk already?” you scrunch your nose and drop your stuff in a corner of the room.

“No.” Sunghoon says to you lazily with a little smirk on his face. You can’t help but giggle. Sunghoon is pretty adorable when he’s drunk.

“Are you drunk too?” you turn to Jake and he shakes his head. His pink cheeks give him away though. “You’re all bad liars.”

“Lets go swim.” he says excitedly.

“There’s a pool? I didn’t bring a swim suit.” you say, bummed.

“Can we go later, I’m hungry.” Jay says and you agree.

“Me too.”

Jake tugs at your arm. “Come on~ we can order room service or ask Jay to get us something.”

“We can get you guys something.” Sunghoon says, pulling a hoodie over his head.

“Please?” Jake looks at you with shiny eyes. He’s and adorable drunk too.

You purse your lips and sigh. “Fine. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Just wear shorts and a shirt.” Jake says as he tugs his swim trunks out of his suit case.

“I didn’t bring shorts because you said it was gonna be cold.” you complain, crossing your arms.

“Uhm,” he stops for a moment. “you can wear my boxers then.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“What?” he looks at you. “They’re basically shorts. And they’re clean.”

You hesitate but then comply as always. He tosses you a pair of black Calvins.

You steal one of Jay’s shirts and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’re wearing a simple cotton bralette which should be fine for the pool. You bundle up the rest of your old clothes and stick them behind your backpack before heading out with Jake.

The pool is empty and huge and is only light by the lights inside.

“It’s so cold.” you rub at your arms as Jake sets your towels down at a seat.

“I’m sure the pool is heated.” he says and dips a toe in. “Yeah, it’s warm.” Before you can even reply, he tugs his shirt off and canon balls in. You turn your face to avoid getting splashed.

“How is it?” you call out as he emerges from the water. He shakes his hair around like a dog.

“It’s warm so come in, you look funny standing there.” he teases and you roll your eyes. You kick your sneakers off and try to make a peaceful jump in but you didn’t realize you were in the deep end. It takes you a moment to get your senses together and swim to the surface.

“Why is it deep?” you say, a bit out of breath.

Jake giggles at you. “Remember when we used to play and you were the mermaid and I was the-”

“Turtle companion.” you finish his sentence. “Yes, as clear as day.”

“Why couldn't I be a mermaid too? Why was a I a lame turtle.” he fusses.

“I’m sorry okay?” you laugh. “I was a mean child.”

“Yeah you were. I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.”

You burst out laughing, flailing your arms in the water to try to stay afloat. “You deserved it!”

“I did not!” he protests.

“You cheated in handball! It was one hundred percent deserved.” you say, swimming over to him.

“I barely cheated!” he calls out, starting to swim away from you.

“Barely? I would’ve won and been champion of our grade if you hand’t pulled that shit!” you say, still laughing and swimming after him.

“Why are you chasing me?” he says while hopping around the pool where he can touch the ground.

“So I can shove another clump of dirt in your mouth.” you try your best to get him but your heavy cotton shirt is holding you back. You don’t let it stop you though.

You finally get to him and tug his arm. He yells as you push him underwater. He finds the ground though, and shoots up soon after.

“Are you trying to drown me?” he looks at you, astonished but giggly.

“Maybe.” you shrug before tackling him again. It had been a while since you two wrestled like this.

You’ve got him under water for a bit until he finds your rib cage and plunges you in. It’s hard to hold your breath while you’re laughing. You feel around for him and pinch his thigh only semi hard. He lets you go after that.

“I won!” you celebrate with your fists in the air.

“You used pain, that isn't fair.” he rubs at the area that you pinched.

“Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.” you cross your arms. “Fine.” he admits his defeat. “that pinch hurt though, come kiss it better.”

Your face twists. “Nuh uh.” you say plainly.

“Please?” he asks. “I will drown myself right now.” You laugh at him.

“I will do it!” he insists.

“Okay, okay! I’m not to going to kiss your leg you weirdo but I’ll give you a hug.” you float over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I even pinched you lighter than I normally would.”

“I’m sensitive.” he says into your neck and you giggle.

His arms feel so right around your waist and you struggle to decide when to let go, so you just don’t, and neither does he. He holds you decently tight and you feel him pat your back.

You’ve hugged plenty of times before but it felt a little different this time. Probably because you’re pressed up against his bare skin. It makes you feel a bit sheepish.

You pull away from him. “Feel better now?”

He nods with a smile. His cheeks are pink, but this time it’s not from the liquor.

Jake’s POV

I can’t help but feel disappointed when she lets go of me.

I shouldn’t have patted her back that's a dad thing to do.

Her makeup has started to run down her face which makes me giggle.

“What?” she asks.

“Your mascara is making you look crazy.” I say and her hands fly to her face.

“Shit I forgot I had it on.” she attempts to wipe it away but all it does is smear it across her face.

“Here,” I say and float over to her. “I’ll help you.” this was not on purpose.

I hold her face as gently as I can in my hands and rub the runny mascara off with my thumbs. I dip my fingers into the water to get all of the bits off.

I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that I’ll never do it. Sometimes I get irritated at myself for not being able to confess. I think Jay and Sunghoon get irritated about it too.

“You talk about her all the time man just ask her out.”

I don't know why I can’t do it. If she rejects me she’ll do it nicely and things would go back to normal pretty soon. But I don’t think I could live knowing that my feelings would never be reciprocated. Sometimes I get a feeling that she likes me too but I can never be too sure.

“All gone.” I say and she thanks me.

She lets her self float on her back. She has a small smile on her face and she’s so pretty I could cry. There have been multiple times where I nearly cried over how much I like her.

“What are your thinking about?” I ask.

“You know I never know how to answer that.” she bleats. “My mind always goes blank when you ask.”

“Well try to remember what you were thinking about then.”

“Us.” she says plainly. “Us?” I questioned. “What about us?” “I don’t know, just how I met you guys and how happy I am to be friends with you all.” she says.

Oh. She meant all of us.

“Yeah me too.” I agree, trying not to sound down. “Who’s your favorite?”

She snorts. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Of course you do,” I say. “and it better be me.”

“Why would it be you?” she jeers.

I frown. “Because we met first.”

“I’m kidding, of course you’re my favorite.” she admits.

“And why is that?” I egg her on and she rolls her eyes.

“Because we met first.”

I sigh. “Is that all?”

“Mhm.” she says.

Y/N’s POV

You’re met with InNOut that Sunghoon and Jay got and also a room full of teenage boys. The younger ones were laying on their stomachs on a bed together, watching something on a laptop. Sunghoon and Jay were trying to watch t.v. You say trying because of the furious clicking on the remote.

“What the hell are you guys trying to do?” you and Jake plop onto the one empty bed.

“Trying to find the porn.” Jay grumbles.

“Infront of the children?” you look over at the younger ones.

“They don’t care they’re watching YouTube.” he says, still clicking.

You take a bite of your burger. “You have an endless arena of porn on your phone why do you want the t.v. one?”

“The t.v. makes it special.” Sunghoon says.

“Weird.” you mutter to yourself. “They’re probably gonna make you pay for it too.” Jake chimes in.

“Do you think it’ll go to the school’s credit card or whatever?” Jay asks with wide eyes.

“I don't know but if it does they’ll know it’s from our room.” he says through a full mouth.

You grab pajamas out of your bag and head to the bathroom to shower.

You come out feeling fresh and the younger ones have gone back to their room now.

“My turn,” Jake says, walking into the bathroom.

You sit next to Sunghoon on his bed and start scrolling through your phone.

“Should I get this sweater or this one.” he holds his phone up to you and shows you light blue sweater and a black one.

“Second one.” you say.

“Really?” he questions. “I feel like it’ll make me look emo.”

“You should become emo honestly. It would look good.” you reply and he chuckles.

“You’d have to help me with my eyeliner every morning.”

“Yeah,” you giggle “wait can I do it right now? I wanna see how you’d look.”

“Right now?” he cocks a brow and you nod. “Okay but don’t give me raccoon eyes.”

“I won’t I won’t.” you rush over to your bag and bring your make clutch to the bed.

“Hold still.” you tell him as you give him smokey winged liner.

“It tickles.” he says, trying not to blink too much.

“Beauty is pain.” you clean up the wing with your nail.

In a couple minutes you’re done. “Finished." you say.

“Lemme see.” he grabs a hand mirror from your clutch and holds it up to his face. “Hold on. This looks kinda good.”

“Right?” you had to admit it; he looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jay says from his bed.

Soon Jake came out of the shower and it was hard to deny how good looking he is especially with his damp hair. How could someone make a t-shirt and sweats look so good? He dumps his laundry by his bag.

“Does Sunghoon have makeup on?” he asks, settling onto his bed.

“Yeah doesn’t it looks nice?” you ask and he agrees.

“Y/N are you gonna sleep here or in your room.” Jay asks.

“I thought I would just sleep on the floor here.” you suggest and he furrows his brows.

“No that’s mean. Share a bed with someone.”

“You should sleep with Jake.” Sunghoon elbows you in the side and you shoot him a dirty look. “We all know he wants you to anyway.”

“Fuck off Sunghoon.” Jake looks over at him with a piercing stare, a contrast to his pink cheeks.

“Is it okay if I do?” you ask him and he nods.

“Yeah for sure.”

Sunghoon snickers.

“I hate you.” Jake scowls.

After a couple hours of watching movies and horsing around it’s nearly midnight and your eyes are getting heavy.

You crawl under the covers and scroll on your phone a bit before trying to sleep. Despite how tired you are it’s hard to sleep with the boys chatting and snickering to each other.

“Can you guys quiet down?” you ask them.

“Sorry.” Jay says.

After maybe an hour of sleep, you feel someone get on the bed. Probably Jake, you think to yourself. His little sighs as he gets comfortable are cute.

“You awake?” he whispers.

“Mm?” you turn on your side to face him. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” he says. The room is dark but the moonlight helps you make out the outline of his face.

‘What’s up?” you ask.

“Nothin.” he says and you giggle.

“Okay weirdo. Go to bed.” you close your eyes, stilling facing him though.

“I’m not tired.” he says.

“Count sheep.”

“That never works for me.” he sighs. “Sing me to sleep.”

You try to slap him in the arm but you end up hitting his face. “Oh shit sorry!”

“Ow!” he whines. “Why do you keep hurting me?”

“It was an accident!” you whisper and rub at his cheek a bit.

“Now I actually deserve a hug.” he pouts and you roll your eyes.

“You are not five years old.”

“I still want the hug.” he says plainly and you sigh.

“Fine.” you scooch over to him and pull him into your chest. You pat his back. “There there. Better now?”

He shakes his head. “It still hurts.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” you scoff.

“I have no shame when it comes to your affection, you should know that by now.” he smiles.

You feel his arm fall over your waist and his hand slide up your back. It gives you goosebumps.

You’re cuddling with him. You guys are cuddling right now. You think to yourself. No you’re not, you’re just...hugging. Right?

Jake pulls away to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you gonna say your mom again?” you ask and he shakes his head.

“No,” he says giggling. “it’s something for real.”

“Okay what is it?”

He takes a sharp inhale. “I like you.” he winces.

Your heart jumps a bit. “I know.”

“What?” he laughs. “You’re very obvious about it.” you chuckle. “Are you rejecting me?” he asks and you shake your head.

“I would never.” you pull him in by the back of neck and push your lips against his.

#enhypen #enhypen jake #ehypen fluff #enhypen Jake fluff #Jake Sim fluff #Kpop fluff

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

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Bad Blood

A/N: Set towards the end of season 3.

Title: Bad Blood

Summary: After Peter discovers Neal stole the ship’s treasure, you’re worried he’ll be mad at you for keeping the secret.

Words: 2310

The problem with loving your brother so much you couldn’t possibly do something to put him in jail, despite your personal opinions, is that it puts you in an awkward position.

You had never had that problem. From the age of three, you’d gone everywhere with Neal. You’d grown up among thieves and criminals, and that’d been all you’d known. Until Neal was caught, and you’d lived a more subdued life for four years, learning things and picking up what it meant to have a normal life. You’d grown your own opinions, stemming from the simplest of things, and slowly come to realise that there was a life outside your brother’s antics.

Maybe that was why Neal hadn’t told you about the treasure. Perhaps he’d thought you might tell Peter. He should have known, though, that you’d never do that. So, more plausibly, maybe he’d simply wanted to keep you safe. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to put you in that kind of position – stuck between him and Peter. He’d been doing that a lot in the year and a bit he’d been out of jail; keeping secrets, only letting you in on what he thought you needed to know. It was a swerve in your relationship, and it was constantly hitting obstacles.

Peter had taken you aside a while after the fire and asked you if Neal had stolen the treasure. You could still remember the flurry of emotions that had hit you then.

“I need to know,” Peter said. His voice was gentle. He was leaning on his forearms, staring at you from his place behind his desk. His eyebrows were raised, and you would have squirmed uncomfortably if you knew what he was talking about.

You sputtered for a moment, glancing down at the floor, before shaking your head and looking back up at him. “Neal?” you asked. “You- you think Neal stole the treasure?” Peter lifted his chin and leaned back against his seat. “I thought it was all lost in the fire.”

Peter sighed. “We did, too,” he said. “But… we found something that leads us to think otherwise.”

Your frown deepened. You turned your head, just about seeing Neal immersed in conversation with Jones. He glanced up for a moment, your eyes meeting, and he gave you a questioning look. You bit the inside of your cheek and turned back around to look at Peter, who was watching you intently.

“I don’t know, Peter,” you said honestly.

Peter nodded. “If you did…” He tilted his head a little. “Would you tell me?”

It wasn’t an interrogative look that he was giving you. He loved you. Every moment he was with you was spent treating you as his own. But that love included protecting you, even from your brother, and he wanted – needed – to be sure that you weren’t withholding anything from him that could put you behind bars, because he knew he’d rather be behind them himself than let you go.

You bit your lip, absently fidgeting with your fingers. You glanced up and shrugged.

Peter nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that response. He drew in a deep breath and stood up, rounding the desk. He leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “As long as you’re safe, kid. That’s all I ask. Don’t get yourself caught in something I can’t get you out of. And… try get that in your brother’s head, too. You know where I am if you need me.”

Really, it should’ve been obvious to you that Neal had stolen it. You hadn’t wanted it to be – it was for that reason you’d never told Neal that Peter had even asked you about it – but you knew the man better than you knew anyone and anything. If the opportunity was presented, he would grab it up.

You’d cried after overhearing Neal and Mozzie discussing the treasure. They’d been quiet, whispering among themselves, and Neal should have known really that you wouldn’t have been asleep. He’d heard you sob, your pillow over your head, and got up from his chair so fast he’d knocked it over. Eyes wide, heart pumping, mind whirring, he’d slid into the bed beside you. You’d pushed him away, but he’d stayed, he always stayed, and he’d slept with you until morning, your back to him, his hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t talked about it the next day, and you’d been blunt with him since. You figured he’d worried you would tell.

“You have the treasure!”

You could hear Peter’s words. You’d been sat at the table when he’d come in, telling them Elizabeth had been taken, and you’d decided then and there that if Neal didn’t tell him, you would. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to, but the look Peter had given you after that had seared into your brain, and you hadn’t been yourself since. So, the moment Neal had been cleared – officially, anyway – you’d ached to speak to the agent.

“Peter, can we talk?”

It was a Sunday, and you, Mozzie and Neal were at Peter and Elizabeth’s for lunch. There was a sense of normality around Sunday lunch at the Burkes’. A familiarity that you had been terrified you’d lost for a moment back then.

Elizabeth and Neal were sitting outside, the both of them laughing about something or other, and Mozzie was sleeping on the deck chair he’d brought from June’s – nobody was sure why and nobody had bothered to ask. He was Mozzie, after all. You had been putting the plates away, Satchmo your shadow, and Peter had followed close behind, that smile on his face which told you he was happy. You didn’t really want that smile to disappear, and you knew he probably didn’t have anything to talk to you about, you were just being paranoid, but it would make you feel better, and you were too selfish to let that pass.

Peter glanced over his shoulder as you leaned against the kitchen counter. He nodded. “Sure,” he said, shutting the dishwasher. He turned around and crossed his arms, a look of slight intrigue crossing his face. “What is it?”

You swallowed, rolling your shoulders a little. You saw Satchmo nudge your hand with his wet nose and felt all the better for it. “I don’t…” you started, before feeling the lump in your throat stop your words. Peter, ever the concerned stand-in parent, moved forward immediately, his eyebrows furrowing together, those frown lines creasing his forehead. He stopped beside you, not wanting to invade your privacy yet needing to be there for you all the same, despite his not knowing what it was you wished to say.

He was a patient man, and so he merely stood beside you for a moment, waiting for you to speak up again. The open door was letting in the fresh breeze, the sound of Elizabeth and Neal’s laughter wafting in through it. It was the perfect day.

“I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us,” you said eventually, in a voice softer than Peter ever believed he’d heard.

He took a little while to mull your words over, staring fixedly at a spot on the floor. He shook his head as though preparing his words. “There isn’t any,” he said after a small moment, tilting his head to look down at you. When you didn’t reply, your hand on top of Satchmo’s head, he darkened his frown. “Hey,” he said, almost as softly as you. He pushed himself from the counter to move partly in front of you, taking your hands into his and waiting for you to meet his gaze. “What makes you think that?”

You swallowed again, foolishly feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. “I knew about the treasure.”

Peter made a face of realisation immediately. He squeezed your hands. “You knew about it after I asked about it,” he reassured you, shaking you a little, “you’re fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“Well, I should’ve told you anyway,” you said, sniffling. “I should’ve told you the moment I found out. That’s withholding evidence… or something.”

Peter huffed a short laugh, releasing your hands only to pull you against his chest in a strong hug. “Your mind’s been working on this one for a while, huh?” he said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You rested against him, eyes staring blankly ahead, lips trembling as you tried to hold the tears back. You felt Peter rest his chin on the top of your head. “I’m telling you, kid,” he said, “there’s nothing bad between us. You didn’t know about the treasure when I asked, and you said you didn’t know whether or not you’d tell me if the odd chance you found out later came up. I accepted that. That’s all that matters.” He turned his head a little, looking into the garden. As he’d expected really, Neal was craning his neck, eyes concerned even from this far away. He rose a dark brow, a silent question passing between them, and Peter nodded his head once, causing the younger man to reluctantly turn back to his conversation with Elizabeth.

Peter imagined it was difficult for both you and Neal to have someone like him in your lives. It’d always been you for a long, long while, and allowing someone in, opening up to that person like you had, was something he felt almost honoured for. Holding you in his arms like this, feeling your hands grip his shirt and your head all but bury in his chest, simply because you were worried he was upset with you, made him feel something indescribable. It was a good feeling, though. The feeling he felt when Neal did as he was told without argument, and called him his friend, and just came into work that morning because he’d decided it wasn’t the day to cut his anklet and run.

Things had changed for the Caffreys. He hadn’t known you at all before a year and a bit ago, but even he could tell that. You were letting people in. Trusting people besides yourselves and each other.

He pat you on the back and pulled away from you a little, gently putting a finger under your chin. “I don’t blame you for wanting to keep Neal safe,” he assured you. “I know it was difficult enough to keep it a secret after you found out.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. Of course it’d been difficult. It’d been the reason you’d cried yourself to sleep that night. You hadn’t wanted the task of having to make a decision, and you were only grateful – and relieved, more than anything – that you hadn’t had to.

“I think...” You glanced down for a second, glassy eyes meeting the soft brown ones of Satchmo. “I think I would’ve told you eventually.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he was surprised at that revelation. He lifted his chin a little, dropping his finger from yours. "Really?"

"Somebody would have found out in the end,” you told him. “Better it be you. You’re the only person who cares about Neal enough to fight for him.”

Peter regarded you carefully, watching as you shuffled your feet and chewed anxiously at the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t really thought about it in that way before, but now you’d mentioned it, he could see it.

It was true, what you’d said. Mozzie and Neal’s treasure-hiding hadn’t been the smartest. There’d been enough leads to have found it eventually, and definitely enough to drive whoever was following those leads to them. Those people would not have been so lenient. They wouldn’t have understood Neal’s (partly) turned over leaf. They wouldn’t have understood his kindness, and his compassion, and his general humanity. And they definitely wouldn’t have understood his need to stay in front of the bars if only to keep Y/N happy.

Peter understood it all and more. If you had told him about the treasure before he – and Keller – had found out about it himself, he doubtlessly, with a small amount of consideration and hesitation, would have decided on some way or another to give Neal the lowest possible amount of punishment he could receive for a crime such as this. He wouldn’t have thrown the guy in jail and left you without your brother for another few years of your life, and New York without Neal.

He loved you both too much to do that to either of you, or to him.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, a little distant in his tone. He looked back out at the garden, Neal’s grin threatening to split his face as he laughed along with Elizabeth. Though Peter could still see his aching need to get up and ask what he and you were talking about. That was Neal Caffrey. The first responder to all his little sister’s life choices. All except some, Peter decided, and he didn’t half mind that.

He turned back to you and gave you a smile, letting it widen as you responded with your own, half genuine one. “You’re a good girl, sweetheart,” he said quietly, “and you help me keep that man within his limitations better than anyone. Make sure you talk to him. I’m getting a little tired seeing those puppy dog eyes every day.” Your chest heaved with a breath of amusement at that, and he counted it as a victory as he pulled you towards him once more. “The only way there could be any bad blood between us is if you killed Satchmo. Or Elizabeth. Or me. Now, go out and ask the beauty, the criminal, and the winter sunbather if they want cheesecake or profiteroles for dessert.”

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

#bnha 287 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #shimura nana #midoriya izuku #one for all #lil bro when are you gonna get yourself a proper name so I can tag you #himiko toga #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

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another-cancer · 3 years

Text

Chapter Eight: What's a period?

First Previous Next

Masterlist ao3

Summary:

Trouble is brewing back at the order as Marinette learns some awkward information in Gotham.

Notes:

Back from hiatus!

Welcome back friends, with a revised outline I can finally confirm the story to be sixteen chapters! This story has grown a lot from the original Maribat march outline that started it all. Thanks for joining me as we continue this journey.

Updates will be back to the regularly scheduled Tuesdays.

This can also be found on AO3 @another_cancer and Wattpad @another_cAnCeR

Enjoy!

///

Stealing was almost second nature to Marinette. After leaving the order, burglary became her way to survive. With her skill set, it was easy. After all, all, once you kill people to survive there isn’t much that is considered challenging within the realm of crime. It was an outlet for the violent side she developed with the order. One that didn’t cause any real harm. She stole from the rich. They weren’t missing any of it anyway, and half the time that didn’t even notice.

She typically pawned the items off to the strangest people and never to the same one. While she may be dead as Ladybug, Marinette has contacts all over the world. Under false names of course. She was extremely paranoid. The girl could rival Batman in paranoia.

On one particular heist, she had a run-in with another thief. However, she wasn’t quite concerned about her surprise partner when Catwoman was standing in front of her.

“Hello,” Catwoman said with curiosity.

Marinette just stared.

“Quiet, huh, well either way that bag looks pretty full, hope you won’t mind if I take from this place too.”

Catwomen took jewels, that was a lot more noticeable than the stuff Marinette took. It would leave a trail. A trail Marinette didn’t need to be connected to her.

“Please don’t take anything noticeable,” Marinette mumbled.

“What was that kitten?”

She repeated slightly louder, “Please don’t take anything noticeable.”

“But what would be the point of stealing unless to piss off the rich people who live here?” Catwoman asked with a grin, “Unless you’re taking for your own personal gain.”

Mental note: Catwoman didn’t like people stealing for their own gain. Marinette wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I have kids relying on me, I can’t let this shit trace back to me,” Marinette carefully explained.

Catwoman examined Marinette. Truly taking the girl in by slowly scanning her body. She noticed the slightly raggy clothing she wore. Marinette didn’t wear a mask which made her look like a bit of an amateur to Catwoman. However, when the woman arrived at the house earlier no alarms had been triggered suggesting the girl did a good job sneaking into the house. It was risky, the girl clearly wasn’t new to this.

“You live on the streets,” Catwoman said.

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.

She continued, “You’ve stolen before. And you aren’t native to Gotham.”

All statements.

“Correct,” Marinette simply offered in return.

“Fine, let's get out of here and you can explain more to me,” Catwoman said as she headed the way she entered.

Marinette followed. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do. On the other hand, Marinette was confused by the fact the notorious thief ended up taking nothing, had the woman really been so easily convinced by her.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t

“Masters,” a teenager greeted as they were welcomed into the elders' chamber.

“[REDACTED] you have been called upon by the gods, we hope you will accept the honor and visit them. They will give you a mission that you shall complete.”

Once again the unspoken words being: if you don’t do it you die.

“Thank you, I will visit them immediately.”

No one was ever called upon by the gods. At least no one is normal. In [REDACTED]’s lifetime, they could only remember one person who ever got the chance to meet them. Ladybug. And now Ladybug is dead. [REDACTED] assumed they were becoming the new golden child. Oh, how wrong could they ever be.

///

B a c k to G o t h a m

They were in a warehouse, mostly abandoned. It would be a good place to kill someone. But Catwoman wasn’t going to kill her and Marinette gave up that lifestyle a long time ago. In conclusion, no one was going to be killed, but Marinette’s paranoid brain kept reminding her this would be a good place to kill someone.

“How long have you been stealing?” Catwoman asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Against her better judgment, Marinette replied, “When I was nine.”

“You’re a runaway.”

“Technically an orphan, but runaway also works.”

“You're not even from around here, god the whole system is broken if kids not from Gotham are running away to Gotham,” Catwoman muttered.

“I’m not a kid,” Marinette corrected.

“You look ten, you’re a kid, who is looking after other kids, god that makes it so much worse.”

“I’m sixteen,” Marinette lied, she wasn’t going to give the woman her actual age.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, you’ve barely hit puberty, kid have you even gotten your period yet?”

“My what?”

Shit. She did not mean to ask that out loud.

Catwoman didn’t expect that. Fuck how was she supposed to explain puberty and periods to this girl?

She decided bluntly, “It’s when you bleed from your vagina.”

“That’s natural? I thought-”

It had never been explained to Marinette in the past. She thought something was wrong with her, but then it stopped. It had only happened twice so far, and the bleeding was always fairly light.

“Kid I think it’s time you had a talk.”

Catwoman gave a basic rundown on periods and puberty, she even pulled out some pads and tampons she had stored in the warehouse. By the end, Marinette had a bag filled with period products and a new talk to give some of the street kids.

“I never caught your name,” Catwoman said.

What the hell she had already told the vigilantes mine as well tell the rogues too. It’s not like they would be able to find anything on someone who doesn’t exist.

“Marinette.”

“You’re a good thief Marinette,” she complimented.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been considering taking in an apprentice lately, you know, try and imitate the bat a bit. And you're the girl who keeps picking fights with Scarecrow right?”

How the hell did she know that. Never mind, it didn’t matter, Marinette had to turn down the offer anyway. She worked alone and wasn’t interested in being a sidekick.

“I won’t be your sidekick, I have things of my own to worry about.”

“Aw too bad, I was really hoping you’d say yes, show that Bat he’s not the only one who can have a bunch of kids following him around, but I get it you gotta keep yourself safe and those kids you said you look after. Good luck!”

And with that, she was sent on her way. What a strange day.

///

B a c k i n T i b e t a g a i n

“Tikki, are you sure about this?” Trixx asked.

“I am sure,” they replied, hushing the other god, “Lila Rossi please approach.”

The teenager kneeled.

“Lila Rossi, you have been called in front of the god due to your mastering of illusions. My chosen Ladybug has managed to gain balance in her soul. Ladybug now holds destruction that rivals creation. You will retrieve her from Gotham City and return with her alive. Do what it takes as long as she lives.”

Lila was stunned.

“But Ladybug is dead.”

“You humans are fools, she never died, I allowed her to roam without informing anyone to see if any of you incompetent fools would notice. However, she has gotten too powerful recently,” Tikki explained.

“I understand,” she stuttered.

Trixx moved to the front of the room, “From this day on you will leave behind the name Lila, and you will become Volpina.”

There was a bright light and then darkness. Volpina was outside the chamber.

“Lila,” an elder started.

“Volpina.”

There was an understanding, the elders bowed down to her, and Volpina’s mission started.

///

“I really don’t like this sugar cube.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my chosen, Plagg,” Tikki sniped back.

///

Notes:

Next week: Marinette has a couple of stalkers and a backstory that goes further back than she remembers.

#living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in #damienette #ml #maribat #enemies to lovers #ml x dc #dc x mlb

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themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

Keeping Warm

*It is soft Felix simping hours*

Prompt: Reader gets cold easily and steals Felix’s cloak to keep warm not knowing it was his. Felix has some feelings about this.

Requested by: anon

Warnings: language

~~~

I am not good with cold. I’m just not. It’s been that way ever since I was little. When I am cold I shut down and for some reason I always seem to be cold. I don’t know what caused it but I needed to be in the heat at all times. I figured that when I flew to Neverland I wouldn’t have to worry about the cold anymore. It is a tropical jungle after all.

The days are long and the sun is sweltering. I bask in the heat and humidity with a reverence reserved for deities. I was warm and I was happy. The Lost Boys often joked that I was just like a lizard basking on a hot rock. Almost no one actually called me by name anymore after they made that connection. I was always lizard or viper. I learned to live with it.

With that said it looked as if Neverland was my dream come true and it was...until night came. The second the sun was no longer in the sky the island got cold. I expected it to drop a few degrees during the night but the difference was so stark that I spent most nights shivering in my tent with my thin cloak huddled tight around me.

One night I had been so cold that I huddled myself near the bonfire and fell asleep there. It was at that moment I decided to suck up my pride and ask the boys for some help.

“Hey guys,” I approached a group of boys I was sorta close to, “Are there any blankets around?”

“What do you need a blanket for?” One of the asked.

“Well, I get really cold at night and I was wondering if I could maybe get a blanket or at the very least a thicker cloak.” I muttered, meekly.

“How on earth are you cold?” The boys started laughing. “This island is a thousand degrees all the damn time. You really are cold blooded, lizard.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I crossed my arms, “I’m a wuss because I get cold easily. Can you stop making fun of me?”

“Awe, did we hurt your feelings?” One of the boys pinched my cheek, “Little lizard girl can’t stand a little cold?”

“You guys are such jerks!” I shoved them off. “Forget I said anything. I’ll find something on my own.” I huffed and marched off. The boys were wrong about me being cold blooded because I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. Now if only I could bottle this red hot anger and use that to warm my tent at night.

I went up to other Lost Boys asking around for a spare blanket but they all gave me the same bark of laughter and refusal to help me. I had enough and went out to the beach to find my sunbathing rock. It was a large smooth flat rock that stretched into the sea a bit. It was a nice place to keep warm and get some peace and quiet.

When I got there I saw that I wasn’t the only looking for some quiet.

“Hey Felix,” I sat down next to him, “What brings you here today?”

“Stone skipping,” He gestured to the pile of stones by his feet. “Come to warm yourself, viper?”

“What else do I do?” I sighed. I liked Felix. He was easy to talk to and unlike a lot of the other boys when he called me lizard or viper I didn’t think he did it out of malice. It was just a name like Toodles or Slightly. I thought briefly about asking him about acquiring a blanket but decided not to. I had enough of the boys laughing in my face and I really didn’t want to add Felix to that list.

The minutes passed by as I laid down to soak in the sun. Another thing that I liked about Felix was that I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence around him. We could simply exist next to each other. It was rather comforting that we could have these moments when I lived on an island full of boys that couldn’t stand still for more than five seconds.

“Scoot over,” Felix nudged me with his foot.

“Run out of rocks already?” I made room next to me so Felix could lay down as well.

“Yeah,” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Weren’t a lot to be found today.”

“Happens,” I shrugged. I pulled an orange out of my pocket and started peeling it. “Orange slice?”

He opened his mouth and I rolled my eyes before dropping a slice in. “You know,” I said, “One of these days I’m going to do something like drop a rock or a little hermit crab in your mouth.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I bit into a slice. Felix opened an eye to glare at me. I held out another slice as a peace offering. He took it with his hand this time. “Smart choice.”

“Remind me why I put up with you?”

“Because I’m fun and also quiet and I always end up giving you half of my snack when we’re together. Speaking of, my canteen is empty.”

“Here,” he handed me his.

“Thank you.” I took a generous swig. We passed the rest of our time laying in the sun not saying much until Felix had to leave.

The sun started to set and it was with a heavy heart that I braced myself for the cold and meandered back to camp. The boys I had spoken to earlier sniggered as I passed. I got to my tent and sighed when I realized what exactly those idiots had been giggling about. My cloak was gone. The one thing I use to keep myself warm at night and it was gone. Assholes.

Fine. If they want to take my stuff then I’ll take theirs too. I maneuvered stealthily around the camp looking for an unattended cloak. I eventually found one in a distant tent near the edge of camp and grabbed it. Let’s see how funny they think it is that their stuff gets stolen.

I bundled up the cloak and made a straight line for my own tent. I unfurled the cloak and was surprised by how much thicker this one was than the one I had. Probably thicker than what any of the boys wore. It also smelled kinda nice. I don’t know why but I caught a whiff of it and it put me at ease almost immediately. I wrapped myself in the cloak and reveled in the extra warmth it provided before promptly falling asleep.

~~~

Someone was gonna die!

Felix was turning in for the night and had noticed that his cloak had been missing. One of these idiots stole his cloak and when he found out who he was gonna murder them. No one steals from him. Not even as a joke.

It was the whole reason he set up his tent away from the main bustle of the camp. So stuff like this wouldn’t happen. But now it had and heads were gonna roll.

He noticed a group of boys together laughing it up by the fire. He saw one of them holding a bundle of fabric and charged.

“Hey!” Felix grabbed the kid by the neck. “You got some explaining to do you little shit!”

“Felix, calm down buddy.” One of the boys tried saying. “You’re choking him.”

“That’s the point.” He growled. “Cloak. Give. Now!”

The boy shoved the cloak into Felix’s free hand. Felix released him and the kid stumbled back gasping.

“Why do you have to be such a kill joy?” The boys complained. “Did the lizard send you to do her dirty work?”

“What?” Felix asked. “What are you talking about?”

“We stole her cloak cause she was complaining about being cold again. I really don’t see how she can be cold when it is always hot on this island.”

“Oh so this isn’t mine.” Felix really looked at the cloak in his hands. It was very thin and threadbared from years of use. It was a wonder that it was still together at all. He balled the cloak up and stuffed it under his arm. “So which one of you assholes stole my cloak then? It was in my tent this morning and now it’s gone.”

“We didn’t take anything from you.” The boys said. “We swear we didn’t go anywhere near your tent.”

Felix prowled closer, fire in his eyes. “You had better not have. You know how I feel when people touch my stuff. So if I find out you are lying I will shove a spear up your ass and roast you over the fire.”

Felix trudged away leaving the terrified Lost Boys behind. Now he just needed to get this cloak back to you. As thin as it was it was the only thing you had to keep the chill off so some coverage was better than none. Maybe he could approach Pan about getting you a real blanket or at the very least a thicker cloak. He knew how easily you got cold.

Felix sighed. He really was stuck on you. Out of everyone on the island you were the only one that he liked spending time with. Unlike everyone else you were able to sit still and enjoy the moment of silence the world offered. Spending time with you was like finding the eye of a hurricane. All the noise and chaos continued while he stayed safe.

He came upon your tent and peered inside. You were already fast asleep. Looking closer he realized that you already had a cloak covering you. How was that if the boys had taken yours earlier?

Wait. That was his cloak. Why would you steal his cloak? He plan was to wake you up and make the swap but upon seeing you laying there without shivering he couldn’t bring himself to take his cloak away from you. It was much thicker and warmer than your old one was and you clearly needed the layer.

It didn’t help matters that he got a strange fluttering in his chest when he saw you curled up in his clothes. Why was that happening? Why did you look so...cute? Cute was not a word that Felix used, ever. But it was the only appropriate word he could find as he gazed at you.

With a sigh Felix left your tent. He threatened the Lost Boys to not take anything of yours again lest they answer directly to him. The boys nodded in terror, not wanting to incur the wrath of Pan’s second in command. He threw your old shitty cloak into the bonfire. You wouldn’t be needing it anymore now that you had his to keep you warm. Felix let himself a small grin as he watched the cloak turn into a pile of ash. Besides, he thought, his cloak looked way better on you anyway.

---

(Part 2)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #request

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punnyasitgets · 3 years

Note

[cha cha slide voice] reverse!

Freeze! Everybody clap your hands!

Ok so Catwoman Guardian of Gotham was a disaster so I'm taking it into my own hands. Only Bruce and Selina are swapped and Alfred still exists, not. The weird maid lady and Bruce is Not a bloodthirsty murderer

This got Very long so it's under a cut

Selina's parents were murdered by Joe Chill and she vowed to never let anyone feel the same pain she did, hence why she later became Catwoman

Bruce grew up on the streets with his big brother Thomas taking care of them both, but Thomas ended up killing a guy in a mugging and got sent to prison and left Bruce on his own

Catwoman hears about a number of high-profile thefts (museums, aristocrats) springing up and starts trying to track down the cat burglar and ends up interrupting a burglarly from a wealthy woman's penthouse

She chases the burglar down and they have a fight on the rooftops where they kick the everloving shit out of eachother but the burglar throws her off the roof and when she gets back up he's gone

Next night, she attends a charity event and meets an activist and fundraiser by the name of Bruce Wayne and they have a nice chat and hit it off

In the middle of it, a waiter bumps Selina in the side right over where her ribs got cracked from the other night and she doubles over so Bruce helps her out of sight and asks what happened

She tells him she tripped down the stairs of her house but he does Not believe it and ends up sticking by her the rest of the night, at the end of which Selina is like. "He's nice I think" and invites him out for lunch soon

Jump a day or two and Selina runs into the burglar again but this time he's got full body armor and a bat motif and she is Not Happy With This Development

Bruce stole a ton of armor and weaponry from the GCPD and made his own suit because Selina rly messed him up the last time they met

So they fight and Bruce hits her in the side and it floors her and he is like. Wait A Minute, but she recovers and he's forced to run

And then over a period of a month or two, Bruce starts hanging out with Selina in the day (lowkey stalking her to see if his wild theory is right) and while over at her manor he spots a bloodstain on her shirtsleeve from a wound that bled through the bandages she was wearing and when he questions her she says she cut her arm open on a nail accidentally and it's not a big deal but he's just. Hm

Also during this period, Catwoman keeps showing up to stop all of Batman's robberies and he's really getting sick of it because he's been using the money from his stolen goods both to like, feed himself but also to support a gang of homeless kids in the neighborhood he lives in and to help provide food for the local orphanage and it's getting Really Hard To Do That When He Can't Steal Stuff

So basically he knows she's Catwoman and Selina is his friend and he's just. I Have An Idea

Batman starts going out more often just to taunt Catwoman while she's on patrol and he starts going to other rogues like Two-Face and Cobblepit to egg them on and he actively breaks Bane out of prison and the Riddler out of Arkham just to set them loose

He's basically manufacturing a crime wave to try and wear Catwoman out and it's working

She's really exhausted because of all this and every time she has to make an appearance in public she's all tired and struggling to keep it together and Bruce makes a point to be there and to cover for her whenever she's too overwhelmed

Eventually Catwoman gets severely injured during a fight and she's too far from the Cave so, not really having another option, she shows up passed out in Bruce's apartment bleeding out and he's all surprised and helps her and gives her impromptu medical care but never pulls off her mask

Selina wakes up on his couch and he's asleep in a chair he pulled up next to her and she's like :] and leaves him a thank you note before going

So Batman has basically become priority one but he keeps causing so many new problems to spring up that she can't actually go after him while he commits a robbery spree, and every tine she deals with everything else he goes to ground for weeks on end

All the while Bruce is there being Supportive Friend Of The Year and they keep going out to eat and they spend events together and it's Grand

Eventually Bruce asks her out! And she's like. Oh No because while she likes him, she genuinely doesn't know if she can handle being in a relationship at the moment but she doesn't want to say no so she gives a tentative yes and so they're dating

Luckily he is a very understanding man and whenever she has to dip out to be Catwoman or when she's too tired to go out he's all "oh it's fine, I can reschedule" and it's a Very Big Relief

Batman goed to ground after another round of Mess With Catwoman and he stays that way for like three months and she puts all her rogues away so for the first time in a While she has proper free time to spend with Bruce and it's lovely! And shes like. "If this is how our relationship is, I don't want it to end" but because she's Catwoman and she doesn't know that she could hide it from Bruce if they were married and so one night she shows up in his apartment as Catwoman and shows him that she's Selina and he's just "!!!!! Oh that explains a lot, that's really awesome"

He swears he'd never tell anyone about her identity and makes a joke about how because Selina makes herself seem so ditzy at parties, nobody would believe him anyway and so Selina proposes to him the next night and they end up getting married and Bruce moves into the manor ❤️

Unfortunately Batman comes back and he pulls a pro gamer move which involves releasing every inmate from Arkham and Blackgate, including but not limited to her entire rogues gallery

So she's having a Time and literally just can't handle everything and every time she does well against a rogue Batman swoops in out of nowhere to divert her and really it's exhausting and she's working herself to the bone

Eventually she manages to wrangle most of them but the Joker is still on the loose and Batman keeps evading her and she Has Not Slept For Four Nights

While she's in the Cave, Alfred makes a comment about how at night it always gets so nerve wracking, especially since Bruce tends to leave after she does and Alfred is worried he might get caught up in something dangerous considering Batman and the crime wave and Selina is like

"He leaves the house at night??? [wh]" And Alfred gets confused tells her how he can never find Bruce in the manor from around eleven pm to two in the morning so he assumes Bruce goes out to visit friends or to deal with personal business and he tells her abt how he asked Bruce about it and he told Alfred that he and Selina had already talked about it

And Selina is just. "He was lying to you, I had no idea he was going out" which makes her Very Suspicious

She can't Do anything about it because she's trying to track down supercriminals but she checks the manor security feeds and she can't find any trace of Bruce leaving which is Concerning

Basically she ends up finding the Joker and stopping him from bombing the city and he gets sent back to Arkham, but before she can go home Batman shows up and they facedown on the roof

Batman goes all "I really didn't want to do this but you gave me no choice" and then starts trying to kill Selina

He gets a bunch of good stabs in but Selina seems to get the better of him and so he runs and she follows him into an apartment building but loses him in the hallways

She spots a bomb behind one of the doors and realizes the building is about to explode so she gets out of there just before it does and Batman corners her with a gun on a nearby roof

He tries to kill her again but Selina manages to get close and hits the gun away

Batman tries to run but she grabs him by the cape and yanks him back and manages to rip his cowl off before he gets away, at which point she sees that it's Bruce and she's Horrified

And it finally clicks that Batman has been trying to get every other criminal in Gotham to either kill her for him or wear her out so that he can do it himself, which would Also be killing Selina Kyle, and since she doesn't have any other heir, Bruce would get her fortune

And she's all "why would you do all this" and he gets really angry and starts telling her all about the people that aren't as privileged as her and he basically tells her that he wants her money so he can use it to help the people living in the East End and the Narrows, since Selina and the other aristocrats of her stature didn't know the problem like he did and refused to help

So Selina is just baffled that he'd go this far and he apologizes to her genuinely before he tries to kill her one last time because now that she Knows, this is his last chance to get away with the plan

It doesn't work, Selina fights him off and manages to get cuffs on him but he gets away and Selina goes home and Divorces That Man Immediately but also realizes that while he was living with her he'd been stealing things like jewelry she never wore or fancy paintings from rooms nobody ever went into and she is just Not Pleased

But she also allocates a ton of money towards charity projects focused in the more rundown areas of Gotham and actively starts funding all sorts of orphanages, soup kitchens, clinics, etc

She tries to track Bruce down but he's just Gone and so she lets it go even though she's very heartbroken and sad that he tried so hard to kill her

#bat and cat swap #batman #catwoman #dc comics #gaysonlyocean #adobe decrees #tysm rat 🥺

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archonanqi · 3 years

Text

fragile as dust | 5 - culmination

🔖 [first] [prev] [next]

🔖 a/n - aaah some stuff finally starts going down in this chapter, thanks y'all for staying patient through the last four chapters. please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates! enjoy!

—

“Admittedly,” Zhongli sighed, “I may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

You both peered at the carnage leftover from your feast, the table strewn with at least half of the meal left.

“Are you full?” Zhongli inquired. He wasn’t smiling, but there was unmistakeable amusement in his voice. You nodded — a few minutes ago, you’d felt like you could have eaten everything on the table, but the physical limits of your stomach betrayed you. “Very well. Let’s clean up, then I will show you around the house. How does that sound?”

It still took you by surprise, each time he asked you for your opinion. “It sounds good, Mr. Zhongli.”

—

The first time you touched him was as he handed you one of the plates, as you thumbed over the intricate blue-white markings and felt your fingers brush. You didn’t know it then, but it would not be the last.

He was wearing his gloves, and so it was really leather that you’d touched, but it was electrifying all the same. You winced, searching his features for any displeasure. It was not your place to so much as gaze upon a noble of half his status without permission, let alone touch — you’d been taught that lesson, quickly and very early on.

“Please take this to the kitchen,” he requested, as though nothing had happened. You obeyed with slow, deliberate steps, squashing even any thoughts of dropping the fine china. Gingerly — how in Celestia was even the inside of his fridge elegant? — you set it down, closed the door and almost jumped out of your skin. He was standing right behind you, arms crossed as he studied you, features unreadable.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Hansi.”

Small talk? Or a test? Surely, certainly, he wasn’t genuinely curious? You felt naked under his probing gaze, still clad in that plain white dress. Had it really only been a day since you’d met Zhongli? Every second with him seemed to stretch over the length of a millennia. Instinctively, your hands wandered to your chest, feeling for your Vision. Wasn’t there. Wouldn’t help you even if it was.

I grew up in a shithole with a dozen other people. I stole, robbed, dredged myself through life, you imagined yourself saying to him, just to get sold to a nobleman who thinks I’m too stupid to understand his intentions.

By the way, three nights ago, Rex Lapis smoked up something real good and gave me a Geo Vision I don’t know how to use.

“There is nothing to know about me,” you said, instead, “save that I am bound to you in loyal servitude, and that I will do as you please, Mr. Zhongli.“

“Hm.” Zhongli hummed, a low echo. His golden gaze rend you through Then, rather abruptly, he said, “Let’s begin the house tour, shall we?”

Somehow, his curtness stung. Had you said something wrong? What you’d said — that was the textbook response you were meant to give, no? Regardless, you nodded your obedience, swallowing the fear you felt, as always, at his displeasure.

—

You almost expected there to be a dungeon of some sort hidden behind one of the doors, some skulls, maybe a poor chained up Hilichurl or two.

What you didn’t expect was so many rocks.

And paintings. And scrolls, and trinkets, and jewelry, arranged carefully upon display stands in each room. You remembered how cluttered the drawers were that you hid your Vision in. In the daylight, now that your mind wasn’t clouded with as much fear and fatigue, you were realizing just how much stuff Zhongli owned.

(Vaguely, it brought to mind images of dragons — the billowing, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding creatures you’d read about in one of the many storybooks you’d stolen. You shook that image out of your head. Zhongli was plenty intimidating, even without a set of horns and fangs.)

“—and this is the bathroom,” Zhongli said, pushing open the door. The bathroom, on its own, was bigger than the shack you’d shared with four other families growing up. In the middle of the room, the dark marble floor gave way to a large, circular bathtub — it looked a little like a pool. “You are free to use it, and anything in it, whenever you’d like.”

The idea of a hot bath was heaven, but you were a hundred percent certain that your current state — dirt-caked fingernails and unkempt hair and all — was all that was keeping you safe. If you got nice and clean, who was to say what he would decide to do to you?

No, you would avoid taking a bath as long as you could.

Zhongli closed the door, and hesitated. “Hmm. There is less than I thought to show you,” he admitted. “These other rooms are simply full of items I’ve collected over the years, and I’m sure they would bore you.“

“It would be my pleasure to hear more about them,” you said, quickly. You wanted to keep him talking; as long as he was talking, he was doing nothing else. Besides, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued about Zhongli — only so that you could read him better, you promised yourself.

“Well, then far be it from me to deny you your pleasure,” he said. “What would you like to know more about?”

You glanced around, gaze landing on a small, glass standing display case. Two gemstones sat side by side in it, both a rich, translucent gold — like his eyes, you thought. “What are those?”

“Cor Lapis,” he said, and you heard a hint of something in his voice. Pride? “They were a gift, from someone close to me.”

“Are they worth a lot? They’re so pretty.” You bit your lip. They were probably worth more than the average Liyue merchant would ever earn. Pretty? Really?

“In terms of Mora, yes, they are worth no small amount,” Zhongli replied. “However, their value far surpasses material currency, for these are prime Cor Lapis samples from Mount Hulao.”

“Hulao... in Jueyun Karst?” You’d heard the rumors that floated between drunk fishermen and merchants, of the dangers of the mountain, of those who entered and came back changed. You had never put much stock in them — drunk men would say just about anything.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, Jueyun Karst is a dangerous place to venture into, without the proper precautions.”

“Dangerous… even for you?” You glanced at the Vision hanging off his waist. You couldn’t imagine a situation where Zhongli would ever be forced to break that collected facade of his.

“For any human.”

You found yourself enjoying the light conversation — you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to another person like this. “Who gave you these?” You tried to smile, and it came easier than you expected. “They must have been really nice, to give away something so expensive.”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth. Zhongli’s eyes darkened, and his face fell visibly.

“Yes. She… was certainly very kind,” he said, quietly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Couldn’t.

Was? You wanted to kick yourself. Of course you’d manage to bring up his dead friend in your first real conversation with him. The next seconds of silence were almost unbearable. Finally, you spoke up with the first thing that popped into your head. “So, you like rocks?”

By the Archon, weren’t you on a roll today.

You were pleasantly baffled to hear him chuckle, a deep, throaty rumble from the depths of his chest. “Yes, one could say that I am fond of them.” He said, amidst soft laughter. “And you?”

“I don’t know much about them,” you admitted, “but the ones you have are beautiful, Mr. Zhongli.” So was his laugh.

“Is that so?” He asked, the previous conversation seemingly forgotten, as he strode over to a case across the room, “perhaps you will find these to your fancy as well — these pieces of Noctilucuous Jade were mined from the deepest mines of the Mingyun...“

—

By the time Zhongli had finished regaling you about his rock collection, the sky outside had become a smear of pink and orange, the sun drifting barely over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed the time — Zhongli simply had the kind of voice that demanded wholehearted attention.

“I seem to have gotten carried away again,” Zhongli smiled. Was it just you, or were his smiles coming more frequently? “Thank you for being such a good listener, Hansi.”

You nodded in response, not quite sure what to say to that. The praise had a strange, warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“All that’s left of the house is the library upstairs,” he paused, the tacit question clear on his lips.

You froze. Ever since you started stealing to survive, you’d made a point to sell everything that couldn’t be eaten. Jewelry, hairpins, no matter how pretty, no matter how much your heart ached to put them on, went straight to the pawn store. But you could never sell books. You couldn’t bear to give up the worlds within them, the promises that one day you would be able to live as freely as the heroes of those stories.

So you stole. First from Wanwen bookstore, then when the owner learned to watch for your grubby hands, from bags and pockets and homes. You devoured them like hot meals, kept them under the floorboards of your corner, read them out loud to the kids who lived with you, read them till the dirt from your fingers had smeared the words to unrecognition.

You wanted to see Zhongli’s library, so badly that it hurt.

But to tell him this would be to admit to him that you’d stolen those books, that you taught yourself a skill that someone of your social class didn’t deserve to learn. Something you weren’t worthy of.

“I can’t read anyway,” you lied.

“I see,” Zhongli said. “Then, shall we go and get some dinner? Are you feeling well enough to make a trip to Liyue Harbor? I know the most splendid restaurant.”

—

You thought that things were going relatively well, that you were doing a fine job of squashing the unease and distrust of Zhongli that still gnawed at the corners of your mind. You were giddily excited, even, to be going to a restaurant for the first time.

So, as you two arrived at the outskirts of Liyue, close enough to hear the bustle of nightlife, you certainly weren’t expecting the sudden wave of emotions that knocked you clean off your feet.

It had started small — the unrelenting reminder of how out of place you would look at the restaurant. How out of place you would look in public, next to Zhongli in all his regality. Then: how out of place you truly were — how absurd of you to have started warming up to Zhongli when you knew, with every fiber of your being, what all men like him wanted; when you knew that one day he would grow impatient of waiting for you to offer it.

If you took his dinner, his food, his kindness, what would you begin to owe him?

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The bile that rose through your throat was hot and bitter, and you doubled over and retched noisily into the nearest bush. Vaguely, you could hear Zhongli’s exclamation and his footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t stop until your stomach was empty once again.

You flinched violently at his light touch on your shoulder. “Hansi,” he said, and you were baffled at how genuine his concern sounded, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and it was true. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Please don’t apologize. Can you stand?” Zhongli asked, voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Nonsense, your health is infinitely more important.” He said. “Do you think that you can walk?”

Once again, you nodded. You let him lead you home.

—

When you reached the front door of the house, Zhongli’s hand on your shoulder firm and gentle, something had begun — deep in your heart — to fester. The fear, the confusion, the things that had fallen into place but didn’t quite fit together — it had all been boiling too long, too hot.

“Mr. Zhongli.” You said, as you stepped through the door, once again greeted by a warm gust of air.

“Yes, Hansi?” He asked, close behind. His hand on your shoulder was suddenly heavy, and hot. You shrugged it off, whipping around to stare him in the eyes.

“Please, just— do whatever you’re planning to do to me.” You said, knowing that if you lost your momentum now you would never get it back.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m not a child. We both know what I'm here for. When I lived on the streets, two pieces Mora would have earned any nobleman a night -- let alone... however much you’ve spent.” You were vaguely aware of how many lines you were crossing with each word, but there was no stopping the words flowing from your lips now. You could feel your heart thrashing against your chest, anger warming your bones.

“We both know that I have nowhere to run, no way to defend myself, so just DO it already. Be cruel, hit me, whatever, do your thing so that I can stop holding my Archon-damned breath and waiting for the inevitable. What exactly are your intentions with me, sir?”

You paused to catch your breath, and the horror set in suddenly. Your temper had always been the bane of your well-being — you just had to let it get the best of you, every time, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you have just bided your time and waited for his patience to run out later rather than sooner?

Zhongli stayed silent, face pulled into a frown as though he was pondering over your words. Time seemed to slow into a viscous fluid, drowning you in its wake. You glanced down the hallway at your room.

If he raised his hand against you, would you be able to make it to your room? Would you be able to grab your Geo Vision before he caught you, and would you even be able to use it against him, against the years of experience he’s had with his? You knew the answer to all of those questions: a resounding no.

Would he let you live if you apologized? You opened your mouth to beg.

“My intentions with you...” he said, brow pulled down over heavy lids. “Hm. It seems that I must apologize.”

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For the umpteenth time since your meeting with Zhongli, you wondered: What?

“I have been trying to let you acclimate to your new life at your own pace, whilst moving on from your old.” Zhongli’s pursed lips were the only sign of discomfort in his composed features. “I did not know that such concerns were going through your head, though I should have seen that your seeming lack of fear was but a facade from your incredibly strong character.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your hands trembling. You tried to get them to stop. They would not.

Zhongli swept on. “The circumstances of our meeting are... unfortunate. In time, you will understand my intentions in orchestrating our meeting, but for now -- you have been put in a very uncomfortable situation. I am remiss for not having acknowledged this much earlier.”

What?

Zhongli cleared his throat. “Hansi, please listen to me. While you are under my roof, I will never lift a finger to cause you any harm, physically or otherwise. And for as long as you are a part of my household, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never again touched by hunger, frost, hardship. That you will never be subject to the kind of fear that’s making you tremble,” he reached out slowly and took your hand, “like this.”

He had done all the speaking, but it was you who had lost the breath from your lungs. Each of his words was a low rumble, earthquakes in their own right. You didn’t know if you believed him, but you so badly, badly wanted to, with every inch of your shaking body.

“I do not expect you to believe me, right now,” he said, as though reading your mind. He let go of your hand, and it fell back to your side, still shaking. “However, you will soon come to learn that I never break my word.”

You were beginning to see why Rex Lapis had chosen to grace this man with a Vision. He commanded — no, demanded — your attention, your respect, your trust, your entire being. There was more to him than the rich, lonely nobleman he seemed to be; in that moment, you had never been more sure of it.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask me, Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

You shook your head, mutely. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to that, but the swollen words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, and hoped he heard everything behind it.

Tomorrow morning, you supposed, it’d be alright if you had that bath.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #Zhongli fanfiction #Zhongli genshin #genshin #genshin fanfic #Zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing #this is solidly toeing the boundaries of self indulgence/projection #but I hope y'all like it anyway ;;

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 years

Text

Up to No Good

Summary: A snake catches a snack on a rooftop. AO3 Link

Merry Christmas, @lukatastrophe For the @mlsecretsanta

“Good evening, little mouse.”

The Multimouse squeaked and bolted, though she was far too slow for the viper-quick hand that snapped her up. The little mouse struggled, sending out a mental distress signal to her sisters that King Cobra was here and he had her and help, please!! The other Multimice in the museum below sent out a confirmation and began returning to the roof, where she was. “Let me go!” Multimouse snapped, biting the hand that held her.

King Cobra winced and withdrew his hand to his chest, taking her along for the ride. His hand squeezed dangerously around her. “None of that, now. I would sssuggest behaving; I don’t want to end up hurting my favorite sssnack,” he hissed, forked tongue flickering out between his lips as he spoke.

Multimouse flushed at the term of endearment, but didn’t bite him again; the ground was far off and her sisters were coming. She just needed to keep him distracted. She scowled up at him. “What do you want this time?”

He smiled, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Can’t a sssnake ssspend time with his favorite mouse?”

“Absolutely not; I know what snakes do with mice.”

While not as active as Hawkmoth, King Cobra was still a dangerous villain. Appearing only a few months after Ladybug and Chat Noir, the snake holder started attacking museums, art galleries, jewelry stores—anywhere and everywhere, all over Paris. He always managed to escape from Ladybug and Chat Noir when they arrived on-scene; Multimouse had fought him a few times when they ended up in the same place at the same time, trading quips and whips all the same, but his tricks were slippery and he got away time and time again. Multimouse suspected that Cobra had somehow managed to unlock the full extent of his Miraculous, meaning he wasn’t on a timer despite not being an adult.

Well, she hoped he wasn’t an adult—What was she thinking!?

Cobra smirked down at her. His hood covered a lot, shadowing most of his face, but she could still see his mouth and glowing blue eyes. She wanted to punch him in his smug face. “Oh, I can think of sssome things I’d like to do with you… but that’s not why I sssought you out tonight.”

“Then what?” The Multimouse made a show of struggling as her sister’s began to surround them, abandoning their task in favor of saving her. She wouldn’t be able to reform if a single mouse was missing.

He was imposing against the night. “Would you like to know why I’m a villain, little mouse?”

Multimouse was floored. Never had she expected their conversation to go in this direction. “…Yes,” she replied. It could be a trap, but… she wanted to know.

“I’ve been looking for a Miraculous. A ssspecific one, that’s currently here in Paris, but out of the hands of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s pesky guardian. I… need this Miraculous, Multimouse.” There was a look of desperation in King Cobra’s eyes, one she had never seen before on the villain, not once in their multiple confrontations. “I’m going to have it. And I need your help for that.”

“You think I’ll help you!?” She scoffed. “Don’t be a fool. In case you forgot, I’m a hero—”

“I have to admit, you had me fooled for a while,” he said, cutting her off. “You’re a good actress. I originally believed you when you said Ladybug wanted to keep you out of the ssspotlight. But… after a few weeks, it became clear that you were never ssseen around Paris’s favorite heroes. And after once I overheard them complaining about having to find the ssstolen Rat Miraculous…” The snake leered at her. “Oh, my sssweet little sssnack. You’re no more of a hero than I am.”

The Multimouse—Marinette—felt her face heat with the indignation and she bared her teeth into a snarl. So what if she stole the Rat Miraculous!? Bridgette had stolen from her first!

She had found out a few months ago. Bridgette, Marinette’s cousin and granddaughter of her Great Uncle Wang, was staying with them for the year, applying to Parisian universities. Marinette had followed her one day after school, the reason why having been wiped from her memory due to the following, horrifying events. She had discovered Bridgette being confronted by a turtle man of all things—later, she learned he was the guardian of the Miraculous—and overheard the truth: that Marinette was originally supposed to become Ladybug, but Bridgette had stolen the miracle box from her room before she could find it.

Marinette had frozen in horror, forced to listen to Bridgette justifying herself—that box had looked too fancy to be something Marinette should have, and she hadn’t expected the box to contain magic jewelry, and what would be the harm if she took the earrings out for a joyride? But then Stoneheart happened and by that point everyone knew she was Ladybug and changing would have confused the public, and really, what was he thinking, making Marinette a superhero? She was such an anxious thing, and clumsy, and spazzy, and, and—

And Marinette had been forced to listen to Bridgette completely disregard her and her feelings, insult her outright that hurt in a way that Chloe never managed. Because Bridgette was family. Her parents had taken her into their home, Marinette had welcomed her as a sister, and this was the thanks they got—

The guardian had refused to take the Ladybug Miraculous back from Bridgette. Despite how she acquired it, he had said, she had still earned it and she was a fantastic Ladybug. That had burned. That had hurt. But clearly, the guardian didn’t actually care about the morals of the person wielding the Miraculous so long as it got him the butterfly back.

Maybe Marinette got a bit drastic. Maybe Marinette figured out that if you had a control over yourself and cold, hard determination, akumas couldn’t possess you. Maybe Marinette had figured out that Chat Noir was closer to her age than Bridgette’s, and that Bridgette had been flirting with a younger guy all along.

A lot of things could have happened, but this was fate: One day, when Bridgette had brought home a few of the Miraculous—guardian training, the bug-fairy thing had called it when Marinette had eavesdropped through a hole she made in their adjoining wall—Marinette had stolen two right as they left for school. Only two, despite Bridgette having more; she had figured out that Bridgette abused her Miraculous to get to her high school on time, and with only two missing, Bridgette would assume she lost them. To further the truth, Marinette had tossed one, the Bee, outside the Bourgeois hotel, where Chloe was kind enough to find it and show off.

That left Marinette with the Rat Miraculous. Perfect for her, she could practically hear Bridgette say: timid Marinette, quiet Marinette, sneaky Marinette, unworthy-of-being-a-hero Marinette. But she swallowed her pride and used it anyway, going out every night to train or find King Cobra or fight an akuma or something, because…

Because she wanted to be a hero.

But heroes don’t steal Miraculous.

Multimouse scowled up King Cobra, her teeth flashing ferally in the cold light. “And you think that means I’m going to help you? Don’t be stupid.”

“Well, I had hoped.” He shrugged, like her answer meant nothing. “But if you need a little convincing, then ssso be it. Anything you want, I’ll do my best to make it happen. Power? Riches? There’s a lot available with my Miraculous. What do you want?”

Ladybug, Bridgette, humiliated and disgraced, with no one in Paris able to consider her a hero ever again. Instead, Multimouse asked, “What are you getting out of this? I can’t be your only choice.”

“True, but the other one isn’t as pretty as you, little mouse.” Cobra sat on the roof, crossing his legs like a little kid. “Hawkmoth has reached out for me to become an ally. Sssome kind of ‘I help you, you help me’ sssituation that he thinks I’ll fall for. But people who mind control ssseem like control freaks; he’ll betray me the first time I do sssomething he doesn’t like.” He smiled at her. “You, however… you wouldn’t betray me, would you? Even though all your little mice have sssurrounded us, you’re not going to attack until our conversation is finished. You’re just that type of girl.”

No. If they allied, she would never betray him after being so coldly betrayed herself, still… “You have no idea what type of girl I am. And there’s still nothing in it for me. You offer me things I don’t need, and can’t get what I want.”

“Are you sssure I don’t know what kind of girl you are?” He brought her close to his face, almost nuzzling her into his cheek, and whispered, his warm breath washing over her tiny body. “Ma-Ma-Marinette.”

Instantly, Mulitmouse was lax in his grip, head reeling. He knew? And he was… Luka? Her friend? Her confidant? Her… her… hers?

He cupped her close. “I always knew,” he confessed, his voice soft in a way that didn’t match King Cobra’s face. “I knew it from the moment I heard your heart; nothing could disguise that sssong, not even the pain you’ve been in these last few months. My little sssnack, my precious melody… Now do you sssee why I want you over Hawkmoth? I don’t know why you’ve done this… I won’t pressure you to tell me… but you’re sssomeone I’ll always trust. Ssso please? I’ll explain everything, but…”

Her mice exited the shadows, merging together as one as they got closer to him. The Multimouse in his hand glowed and merged too, becoming Marinette’s hand that Luka held close to her face. Fully reformed, her Miraculous beeped, five minutes remaining. “Luka…” she whispered, searching his face.

“Little mouse.” He nuzzled her hand, his eyes dark with affection and desperation.

“I want to destroy Ladybug,” she blurred out, covering her mouth as if it would rectify her mistake. Luka looked at her, shocked. She continued, “I want people to hate her. I want her vilified as much as Hawkmoth is. I want Paris to demand she return her Miraculous.” A tear escaped at the confession. “I want my revenge. Are… are you willing to help me? I know it’s a lot to ask for, but—”

A teal hand brushed her tear away. “I will. Oh, Marinette…” He drew her into a hug. She buried her head in his shoulder. “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll always be willing to help you, no matter how villainous the action may be.”

“And I’ll help you.” She didn’t care why he wanted another Miraculous, what it was or what it was for. She’d steal a thousand Miraculous so long as it kept him on her side. Before this, she’d never realized how alone she’d felt; even Mullo, who understood and empathized with her pain, was less a confidant and more a captive. But Luka… “I’m on your side, Luka. I promise.”

…he was a confidant and more. Together, they could do great things. Villainous, but great.

And she’d do anything to keep him on her side.

#ml secret santa #lukanette #multimouse #snake luka #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #villain au #thief au #bridgette cheng #minor fu salt

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ibijau · 4 years

Note

“Stop borrowing flowers out of my garden to woo people who don’t even treat you right.” said by Jiang Cheng! Hm, could you make this mingcheng???

This one got away from me so it’s a tiny bit longer than the usual, oops?

The problem was that strictly speaking, it wasn’t a garden. It was just a patch of dirt on the side of a long abandoned construction project that had never been completed due to lack of funds, or embezzlement, or some other bullshit that Jiang Cheng had never cared enough about to try and find out.

It wasn’t a garden.

But Jiang Cheng had been planting flowers there, out of sheer boredom, because he lived right next door and missed the greeneries of his parents’ house. Their garden had always been gorgeous, perfectly maintained by his mother, an absolute work of art. It was the only place she seemed happy. It was the only thing Jiang Cheng missed about his old life. Those quiet moments when his mother, in a fit of good mood, took him around her garden, her one true love, and explained to him about the plants and how to best care for them. People in their circle would sometimes joke that Zu Ziyuan loved her garden more than her family.

Jiang Cheng had never found it funny. Perhaps because he knew what it was like to envy mulberry leaves for the tenderness with which Yu Ziyuan would remove caterpillars from them, when she could hardly be near her son without pushing him around.

For a while, Jiang Cheng had hated gardens. That wasn’t the whole reason why he’d moved to the city, but it had probably impacted his choice anyway. He’d wanted to get as far away from his parents’ life as he could.

But in the end, something must have run in his blood. After months of walking by that abandoned patch of dirt, Jiang Cheng had given in one day. He’d bought some bulbs and seeds, a beginner’s guide to gardening, and set out to work.

It had surprised him when flowers actually started growing. Jiang Cheng was used to failure, and his mother used to tell him he had no skill for gardening. No skill for anything really, but gardening in particular seemed to piss her off.

But there were some wallflowers and geraniums to prove she’d been wrong about this.

About other things too, perhaps. For the time being, Jiang Cheng just clung to the gardening thing.

The entire first week after the flowers started growing, Jiang Cheng expected that whoever owned the plot of land would come to pour bleach on them. It was private property after all. But the plot appeared to be fully abandoned, and that meant Jiang Cheng was free to do as he pleased.

He got more flowers, making sure to pick varieties that were good for bees, because that would make his sister happy, if he ever got around to calling her. He also planted tomatoes, and after hesitation a few courgettes, because those grew like weeds and it wouldn’t matter if someone stole a few, or even all of them. It was the sort of things that’d make his brother happy, except he talked to him even less than to his sister, so Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure why that mattered.

What mattered was that the garden made him happy in a way he hadn’t been in a while. It gave him something to care about. To care for. Something to check on in the morning as he headed out to work, a place to spend a little time when he came home. It encouraged some of the neighbours to chat with him, when up until then they’d apparently half wondered if he was a serial killer with his constant angry face. The little old lady next door asked if she could borrow some of the vegetables growing, and gave him half the dish she made using them.

It felt like a homecooked meal, in a way the family gatherings he still occasionally attended never did.

“You should try planting daylilies,” she suggested. “Pretty and delicious, it’d be a win. My grandmother used to prepare them for us, I’m sure I can remember how to do it too.”

Jiang Cheng did as she asked, and sweet old madam Wen delivered on her promise when the flowers were ready. She invited Jiang Cheng to have lunch with him one Sunday, when her nephew and niece were there. It should have been awkward, but madam Wen was a cheerful old lady that managed to get all three of them chatting as if they’d always known each other.

Better than if they’d always known each other, in Jiang Cheng’s case.

He ended up trading phone numbers with both siblings. Not because he felt like flirting with either, as their aunt so clearly hoped for, but so he knew who to contact if something happened to the old lady. Wen Qing wasn’t very chatty, except to complain about their roommate from hell, but Wen Ning often asked for photos of the garden, and in exchange sent Jiang Cheng pictures of the dogs he got to see at the veterinary clinic where he worked.

For the first time in years, Jiang Cheng felt that things weren’t so bad.

So when one evening after work he dropped by his garden and saw a stranger in an expensive thought pacing by his courgettes, Jiang Cheng felt a familiar dread. If this was the plot’s owner, if he had come to ruin things…

Jiang Cheng rushed ahead, ready to plead his case.

Then stopped after a few steps when the man turned his way. He was handsome. Very handsome. The sort of handsome that belonged on the pages of a magazine, not in the middle of Jiang Cheng’s shitty illegal garden.

The man was also on the phone with someone, and apparently so deep in an argument that he didn’t even see Jiang Cheng just a few metres from him.

“You are the worst,” the man shouted at his phone, “and I swear I’m kicking you out this time. I will… no, don’t cry. Stop crying, it doesn’t work anymore! You…”

The handsome stranger started pacing nervously between the courgettes as whoever was on the other end of the conversation made their case.

“Listen, you are going to calm down, ok? I’m… hey, I’m bringing you flowers. How does that sound?”

He leaned down toward the daylilies, not yet picking one as he waited for the other person to reply.

“Of course real flowers. You… listen, I don’t have the energy for this. We’ll deal with it when I get home.”

The man hung up, and started tearing away Jiang Cheng’s flowers, roots and all, like a barbarian.

Jiang Cheng had always allowed everyone to take what they wanted or needed, but only if they showed some respect for his efforts.

“Stop borrowing flowers out of my garden to woo people who don’t even treat you right!” he barked, stomping toward the man.

The handsome stranger, startled, dropped the flowers.

“Your garden? What do you mean, your garden?”

“You think this got here on its own?” Jiang Cheng asked, gesturing at his garden. It wasn’t as beautiful as his mother’s, but it was his all the same and it loved his plants.

The man looked around with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t even noticed before where he was.

“Sorry, I thought they were just… wild flowers. Did you plant all of those?”

“Not the pumpkins, that’s the kids from down the streets who thought it’d be fun. And the herbs are madam Wen’s because she doesn’t like getting them from the store if she can get fresh ones. But the rest is mine.”

“Must have been a lot of work,” the man said with an admirative whistle. “I can make a cactus die of thirst, so I’m impressed, you must be really good. You’ve been at it for a while?”

“A couple months,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, refusing to let praise from a handsome man get to him. “I live next door and this place has been abandoned for ages apparently.”

“So it’s not your garden,” the stranger noted with a grin. “Well, if you’ve stolen the land, I feel less bad about stealing flowers. It’s not like you can call the cops on me.”

He bent down, ready to slaughter more flowers, so Jiang Cheng did the logical thing and pushed him to protect his daylilies. The handsome stranger fell in the dirt, which thankfully was dry and wouldn’t stain too badly. Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure he could afford to repay that suit.

“If you’re going to steal my flowers for your shitty manipulative wife, at least do it properly. Nobody wants a bouquet with roots.”

The man blinked a few times, a little disoriented after being pushed down. When he saw Jiang Cheng grab the torn daylilies and carefully cut the stems so he could replant the roots, the stranger laughed.

“You’re really passionate about this, uh,” he said, standing up and wiping the dirt from his suit. “That wasn’t my wife on the phone, by the way.”

“Your manipulative husband then,” Jiang Cheng retorted, cutting a few more flowers.

“Little brother,” the man corrected. “Apparently he got drunk last week, slept with my best friend, panicked, ghosted him, left town for five days to hide at his best friend’s house, and now he’s… ah, but you probably don’t care.”

Jiang Cheng shouldn’t care, no, but he couldn’t help laughing at the crazy story. It sounded like something right out of a shitty soap opera, or the kind of bullshit that Wei Wuxian used to pull all the time, back when he was still part of Jiang Cheng’s life.

“My brother’s the same,” Jiang Cheng said, handing out the small bouquet he’d managed to salvage. “Did you take those so he can go apologise to your friend?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure if he’s going to give them to Xichen or if he just wants to keep them to feel spoiled. I’m not sure I’ll give them to him, anyway. It’s not every day a handsome man gives me a bouquet, I’ll be tempted to keep it.”

Jiang Cheng shrugged and rolled his eyes, and absolutely did not blush like a schoolgirl being complimented by her crush.

“Just go give those to your brother. And learn to cut flowers properly, asshole.”

“If I drop by again, will you teach me?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged again and turned away, so it wouldn’t be too obvious just how red his face was. He’d have slapped himself if he could have. It was ridiculous to react so strongly. His only excuse was that the man was really, really gorgeous and had a really, really nice voice… and that it had been a long while since anyone had flirted with him, even this badly.

“Maybe I will, if I can find the time. My life’s not a fucking soap opera but I have my own stuff to do.”

“Fair enough. Well, I hope I’ll see you around. It was nice talking to you.”

Jiang Cheng shrugged, and refused to turn around to watch that too handsome man go, though he might have been slightly tempted.

He’d lost enough time to that asshole already, and the tomatoes weren’t going to water themselves.

#mingcheng #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #jau writes #nmj probably owns that plot of land #tbh I'd be almost tempted to expand on this but blarg modern au...#Anonymous

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smcc212 · 4 years

Text

Normal

Pairings- Arthur Shelby x male reader(platonic), Polly Grey x male reader(platonic), a little bit of Isiah Jesus x male reader

Word count- 1,969

Warnings- Period-typical homophobia, internalised homophobia, underage drinking(is that a warning??), swearing. I think that’s it, let me know if I’m wrong.

A/N- Soooo Instead of writing things people have requested I’ve written this, I might write a part two(if people want one). Anyway! Enjoy some accepting Arthur Shelby, lads!!

I started working for the peaky blinders a few months ago, they never made me do anything dangerous, they always said I was too young. I went to them after getting kicked out by my parents. My father had caught you kissing another boy, dragged me home and told my mother. They disowned me immediately. With tears streaming down my face, I went to the peaky blinders in hopes of finding a job. Taking pity on me, they let me work in the betting shop. I’d be forever grateful.

I never told them that I was homeless. They didn’t need to worry about me, they’d helped me enough, in my books. They knew my parents disowned me, but that was all they knew. They thought I was staying with an uncle. Until...

After a long day of work, the Shelby’s invited me to the Garrison with them. They allowed me to have a few glasses of whiskey. However, while no one was looking I stole a bottle of whiskey, placing it in a hiding spot. After I’d finished the whiskey they said I was allowed, i was stuck drinking water, but I really didn’t mind.

I left about fifteen minutes before shutting time. I went into the alleyway next to the Garrison and started to drink the stolen whiskey. At some point tears started cascading down my cheeks. I couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued my mind. How much easier life would be if I liked women. How I wished my family never found out that I don’t. Thoughts of ending it all, however, were the loudest.

I was so caught up in my head and thoughts that I never noticed Arthur Shelby sitting next to me. I was close with Arthur. He’d taught me how to fight, he’d talk and joke around with me, and he was always there if I needed to talk to him. I knew that I couldn’t go to him with the thoughts I were having though, or...at least sober me did.

“Why’re you crying, lad?” He asked, voice surprising soft. He was also surprisingly sober. “Eh? Come on, you talk to me.”

“I’m not normal, Art,” I mumbled, loud sobs escaping me, shaking my body. Arthur rubbed my back soothingly.

“Whatcha mean by ‘at, eh?”

“I don’t like women,” I cried, too drunk, too overwhelmed to remember to lie. “I like men.”

“And? I asked how you’re not normal.” I looked up at Arthur, shocked by the fact he didn’t start beating me.

“That’s what wrong...” I trailed off, staring at him in disbelief.

“Why’s that’s wrong? You like a bit of cock? So what? Doesn’t matter to me, does it?” I couldn’t respond, too taken aback by his words. A couple minutes passed before Arthur realised I wasn’t going to say anything. “Where’d you stay? I’ll walk you home.”

“No, it’s fine,” I quickly said.

“You’re far too drunk to walk home, let me help you, kid.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Where’d you stay?”

“Leave it.”

“No. Where?”

“Wherever I fall asleep,” I murmured sadly.

“What does that mean?” Arthur’s voice was thick with concern.

“I don’t have a home...” My tears, that had started to slow down, sped up again.

“Right then.” Arthur stood up, dragging me up with him.

“What’re you doing, Art?”

“If you don’t have a home, then you’ll stay with me until you do,” He said like it wasn’t it a big deal. How could he not see how big this was?!

“Th-thank you, Arthur.”

“It’s fine.”

The next day, I woke up to the smell of coffee.

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine,” Arthur said from his seat at the table. I smiled at him before I remembered what I’d told him last night. I jolted up, staring at him with wide, panicked eyes.

“Arthur, please, please don’t tell Tommy,” I begged. “I need that job! Shit, please don’t go to police! Please-“

“(Y/N), calm down, lad. ‘m not gonna tell anyone, alright?” He cut me off, speaking slowly to make sure I understood.

“Thank you, Arthur, thank you. I-I’ll get out of your hair, thank you, Arthur.” I stood up and started to make my towards the door, but Arthur’s hand wrapping around my wrist stopped me. I froze. This was it, he was gonna beat.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He said. I froze, tears burning my eyes as I tried to accept my fate. “For fuck sake, (Y/N), I’m not gonna hurt you. I don’t care if you like men, doesn’t effect me, does it? But for the love god, you’re not leaving, you don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Wh-what?” I stammered, turning around to face him. “You’re not... disgusted?”

“Disgusted?” Arthur let out a chuckle. “No, I’m not disgusted that you like something I don’t.”

“O-okay.”

“You’re gonna stay with me, yeah? Just until your old enough to get your own place, okay?”

“Okay,” I breathed out, still not fully believing that he was so excepting.

“Great! Now drink your coffee, have a shower and then we’ll go to the shop.” I nodded. “I’ll get you some new clothes today while you’re working,” He said as I sat down.

“It’s fine, Arthur, you’re already doing so much for me. Thank you.”

“First of all, stop thanking me. And secondly, you need some new clothes, kid. Don’t fight me on this,” He concluded, voice firm.

“Okay, Arthur. Tha-“ I cut myself off.

“Good.”

Work was the same as it always was, except, after Arthur talked to Polly, she was looking over at me the full day. Something in eyes...pity? Either that or something akin to it.

“Tommy! I’m gonna take my break!” I shouted.

“Aright, lad!” He shouted back, I stood up, put my cap on and started to head for the door. I was gonna go to the boxing and see Isiah. I fancied the Jesus boy too much, even though I knew he liked women. He was just amazing. Polly however had other plans and she stopped me, asking if we could talk.

“(Y/N), Arthur told me,” She said once we were alone. My eyes widened, I subconsciously took a step back. “Calm down. He told because he knows I don’t care, everything to do with my family’s illegal.” She laughed at the end of her sentence. I smiled softly at her.

“Okay, why are you talking to me then?” I asked, confused by the turn of events.

“I want you to know that if you need anything, I’m here. Also, if anyone says or does anything to you because of it, tell me, or Arthur, and we’ll sort it out, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Polly.” I smiled widely at her.

“You’re welcome. Now fuck off,” She joked.

“Yes, mam.” I jokingly saluted before heading off, her laugh following me down the hall.

I stood ring-side watching Isiah box Finn, well... really I was looking at Isiah’s body, his arms-

“(Y/N), you alright there, mate?” Isiah laughed. I’d been so caught up in my own head I hadn’t realised the ‘fight’ had ended.

“Y-yeah, sorry, bit out of it today,” I laughed, hoping he hadn’t realised I was staring at him.

“It’s fine, mate, come on. I need to get changed.” I followed behind him. Once Isiah was dressed, we left, and once we were alone he turned to me. “Like what you see?” His voice sounded smug.

“Wh-what?”

“I saw you staring at me, when I was in the ring, did you like what you saw?” He chuckled, cockiness oozing off him.

“I-I-I.” I didn’t know what to do or say. The honest was yes, obviously I did, he’s gorgeous. The safe answer, however, was no. Fuck, what do I say?! Fuck, I need to say something! Anything!

“I’ve seen you fighting before,” Isiah began, moving ever so slightly closer to me. “I liked what I saw.” My thoughts were racing. Did he actually like what he saw, or was he trying to figure out if I liked men? Did he like men? Did he like me? Or was he going to beat me for liking men? Fuck! Why can’t I just like women! “So, did you like what you saw?” Fuck it, you only live once, right?

“Yes,” I breathed out. He smirked at me, moving closer, backing me up against the wall of the empty alleyway. Fuck! Why did I say yes?! This is it. This is how I die. I closed my eyes, trying to be ready for his first punch... but it never came.

“Good.” I felt his breath against my face. “One day, I’ll let you see all of me. Unfortunately, we can’t do that in an alleyway, love,” He sighed. I slowly opened my eyes, his staring into mine. He placed his hand on my cheek, brushing his thumb across it. “One day, I promise you, pretty boy.” He looked around, making sure no one saw before placing his lips on mine. “See you later, pretty boy.”

“Bye,” I murmured quietly as he walked away. I smiled to myself as I walked back to work.

The rest of the day went by pretty easily after that. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Isiah said. He liked me, right? Or did he only like my body? Who cares?! Isiah Jesus, the preachers son, wanted to, at least, fuck me.

“(Y/N)!” I heard Arthur’s booming voice, tearing me from my thoughts. “Come on, we’re going home!” I nodded, grabbed my cap and followed him to his home.

Once we got in, Arthur made me a coffee and poured himself some whiskey.

“So... What did you get up to today?” Arthur asked, smilingly knowingly.

“Nothing much. Same as usual, why?” I stared intensely at the coffee in my hands. It’s one thing to say that you’re okay with a man liking other men, it’s another to actually be okay with it.

“It’s just... You went to the boxing, yeah?” I nodded. “And Isiah was there?” I nodded again, slower this time. “Right. Then the two of you came back to the office with this...this glow about you.”

“Glow?” At this point I was starting to question Arthur’s sanity.

“Yeah. Not literally glowing, obvious, both of you just seemed the have something on your mind.” That smile. That smile on his face, it was genuine. Almost like he was truly happy for me.

“Well, it was a good day,” Was all I said back, because, well what else could I say?

“I’m sure,” He chuckled. “Anyway, while you were off having your ‘good day’, I sorted out your bedroom.”

“My bedroom?” My eyes widened as I realised he was serious about me living here.

“Yeah, s’only small, but it should do for now. Tommy’s coming into some money so we’ll probably be moving,” He shrugged. A smile spread over my face.

“I know you said to stop, but thank you, Arthur!” I beamed, and, without thinking, leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Arthur. He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he hugged me back.

“You’re welcome, (Y/N). You’re clothes are in your wardrobe. I’ll be honest, I got Ada to help me with the sizes. I’ll get some dinner on while you wash up, yeah?” He said, pulling back.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you!” I shouted back as I ran upstairs.

After showering and changing into some clean clothes- not a full suit, just an undershirt and some trousers- I went downstairs to eat dinner with Arthur. It may not have been the best food in the world, but I loved it. It was a full meal and I hadn’t had that in a while. Then both Arthur and I went to bed. Tomorrow was the start of the rest of my life, a good life; a normal life.

Tags:

@the-makingsofgreatness

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.”

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.

#im sorry for being super inactive #ive been having a bunch of health issues #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

to make the desert bloom

The first time Michael pawns off a few feet of stolen copper wire he makes $68. He’s been totally swindled - the wire easily worth more than double that. But it’s enough to pay the remainder on his cell phone bill so he’s thrilled with the transaction.

A few months later Michael risks stealing a small spool of wire. He’s wised up about the wire’s worth, but still accepts a criminally low cash offer. But alongside the cash, he’s also negotiated a broken power drill. He has it fixed within the hour and that’s how his tool collection starts.

Word gets around about the kid who practically gives away copper for nothing more than a few crumpled bills and some rusty old tools. Michael happily accepts broken wrenches, bent screwdrivers, and even a table saw with the cord cut off. He makes enough money to put gas in his truck and keep food on his table. And collects enough tools to supplement his income with various side-gigs.

By his twenty-first birthday, he’s even got $400 saved in his new bank account. His crime completely victimless, as far as he’s concerned. Old Man Sanders never once showing any interest in the piles of copper in the makeshift garage shed. What Sanders doesn’t miss can’t hurt him. And what Sanders doesn’t miss has saved Michael’s life on more than one occasion.

No one but his customers are aware of his scheme. A conman playing easily into the hands of lesser grifters. Until the day he overspends on one of Isobel’s birthday gifts.

She opens the newspaper wrapped box and immediately shoves the gift back into Michael’s chest. ‘You’re stealing now?’

He frowns down at the handwoven scarf. Realizes his mistake. And sighs. Because yes, he’s stealing now.

‘It’s not a big deal, Iz. Just some copper wire no one’s going to miss.’ He tries to give the scarf back to her, but she folds her arms across her chest and levels him with her deadliest glare.

‘Return the scarf, Michael. Give the money back to whoever you stole the wire from.’ Her face softens and she reaches out for his knee. ‘If you need money, I have more than I know what to do with. And we’re family.’

He kisses her cheek, shrugging off her offer. ‘I’ll be okay.’

She settles against him, interlocking their elbows and leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘I know. Me too.’ And it’s the truth. But he’ll never take her money.

That’s the last time he steals anything from Sanders for a long time. Until Alex Manes comes barrelling back into his life after his longest absence yet.

They crash back together like always. Shacking up in his trailer for hours at a time, rediscovering each other’s bodies. And Michael allows himself to believe that they will finally make it happen this time. But then Isobel arrives with a bag of bagels and wakes him from his dream.

Once he’s able to shoo her away, he watches Alex practically fall out of the airstream in his haste to get away. Michael holds up the bag of bagels, but Alex shrugs him off and climbs into his Explorer. The engine whines - needing a new timing belt - as he flees from the junkyard.

Michael eats all six bagels and then steals the largest spool of copper he can find. It’s almost like he wants Alex to catch him. You’re wasting your life, Guerin on a constant loop inside his head.

And maybe he is. Wasting his life. On a boy he’ll never be good enough for.

That night at the drive-in he plays out the final act of their charade. Stupid alien movie and grease-soaked food, hands brushing accidentally as they both grab for a new beer with the anticipation of sex heavy between them.

A dance with Jesse Manes.

A trade with Renly Thomas.

He makes the most he’s ever made that night. Almost twice what the copper is worth. But he ends the evening in red regardless.

Eventually, he confesses the whole scheme to Sanders. Promising to pay him back. Sanders turns down the offer, but Michael starts saving the money anyway. It’s what he imagines his mother would expect of him.

He starts taking classes at Roswell Tech. He stops drinking.

One night, a recently single Alex sits on the stool next to him at the Pony. Leans his elbow on the bartop and turns to Michael. ‘I need a favor.’

Michael drops his hat onto the bartop and snorts. Raises his glass of water to his lips but doesn’t drink. ‘A favor?’

Alex scratches at a divot in the chipped wood bar. Avoiding Michael’s gaze. ‘I need a few feet of copper wire.’

He’s convinced he’s heard him wrong. ‘What?’

‘Three feet. Three feet of copper wire. Heard you were the guy to talk to.’ His lips quirk up at the corner. And Michael suspects he’s being played.

‘Fuck off, Alex.’ There’s no bite in his words, just a sad sort of ruefulness. He slides off his seat and drops his hat back on his head. ‘You can afford to buy your own copper.’

He stalks out of the bar, too sober to stay and argue with an ex who will always be more than an ex.

The sky is dark and near moonless. Broken glass splinters beneath his boots. A couple arguing loudly distracts him as he walks out to his truck parked near the highway. Unaware that he’s being followed.

When he finally looks up, he stops dead in his tracks. A large dark object sits in the bed of his truck. And it definitely wasn’t there when he’d last climbed out of the Chevy.

He squints, trying to make out what the object could be without getting any closer. But it’s no use. A voice from behind startles him.

‘Won’t work without the wire.’

Alex.

Michael sighs and turns to him. ‘What won’t work?’

‘The sign I made.’ He motions to the back of Michael’s truck. ‘Electrical connections aren’t complete yet. Guess you’ll have to take it home and fix that.’ He hands Michael a brand new reel of copper wire. ‘Let me know how it goes.’

Michael gives him the dirtiest side-eye. But Alex only laughs and turns away. Michael ignores whatever the sign is and slides behind the steering wheel. Riding back to the junkyard in silence.

He sits inside his trailer for a long time. Doing his best to ignore what’s still in his truck. It only works for an hour before he’s back outside and threading the wire through the back of the oak sign. Completing all the electrical connections and yawning through several dramatic sighs.

Once the wiring is finished, he plugs the cord into his power pack and watches as a soft neon glow lights up the night. He stays behind the sign. Protecting himself from whatever it says.

At some point, Isobel arrives. Walks slowly towards him, purples and blues lighting up her face - brow deeply furrowed. ‘Um, Michael? Is there something you want to tell me?’ She motions to the sign and his fear increases tenfold.

He shakes his head, hops up onto the worktable behind him, and carelessly swings his legs back and forth. Trying for nonchalance. ‘Nope. Just fixing Alex’s sign.’

Her mouth falls agape and her eyes go wide. ‘Alex made this?’

Michael nods.

‘How the fuck are you this calm?’ She’s frantically waving her arms in a decidedly un-Isobel like fashion.

‘Don’t care what it says.’ He’s nervous though. Slips off the table and grabs the leftover copper. It’s probably more than what he stole in the first place. Tosses it onto Sanders’ stack. Suddenly very suspicious about Alex’s intentions.

‘Michael. Come here, right now.’ Her arms are crossed. Death glare back in place. But then she dissolves into high-pitched giggles and he’s never felt a fear so great in all his life.

He bites the bullet and goes to stand beside her. The first thing he notices is how pretty the lights are - pastel neons with a haunting glow. Very reminiscent of the alien tech on his console.

The words take a minute to form in his mind. He struggles with them. Blinks rapidly several times. Shakes his head and tries again. But each time he lands on the same phrase.

MARRY ME.

‘It’s a joke right? Gotta be.’ Michael swallows hard and stares at the words until they grow fuzzy, losing all meaning. ‘We’re not even dating, Iz.’

Isobel wraps her arm around him and hugs him close. ‘I think you’ve been dating since you were seventeen. Maybe not in the conventional sense - but dating all the same.’ She sighs at the romance of it all. ‘And now he wants more than that.’ She pinches his ribs.

‘Ow! What was that for?’

‘I can already hear you trying to find some reason to reject him. I will not let you ruin this for me, Michael. Do you understand me? I have a wedding to plan.’ She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through her calendar. ‘Spring or fall?’

Michael rolls his eyes and turns at the sound of tires on gravel. Isobel squeals when she recognizes Alex’s Explorer. Michael’s heart starts to race.

Alex climbs out slowly. Eyeing the sign over Michael’s shoulder. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ As if that’s all the explanation required. ‘Phone was too quiet.’

Isobel flies into Alex’s arms, nearly knocking him over. But his eyes never leave Michael’s.

‘Give him some space, Isobel.’ She pulls away and looks back and forth between the two of them. Smiling so wide it’s contagious. ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’ She kisses both of them on the cheek and leaves them to their fate.

She stays up all night preparing mood boards.

Back at the junkyard, Alex shoves his hands into his pockets. Feeling naked under Michael’s intense gaze. He waits anxiously for Michael to say something - to say anything.

‘I guess I just don’t understand. Where did this suddenly come from?’ Michael leans against an old junker, watching Alex fidget.

‘Honestly?’ He looks up at the stars and then back down to Michael. ‘I’ve been sort of miserable lately. And one day I looked at my reflection in the mirror and asked myself why.’ He shrugs his shoulders and laughs softly. ‘Got dressed and went to the hardware store.’

Michael studies the perfectly formed tube lights. ‘Quite the talent you got there. And completely new to me.’

Alex grins, his anxiety easing a bit. ‘I had help.’

‘And this isn’t a joke?’

‘Not a joke. Not remotely a joke.’ He takes several steps towards Michael. Stopping an arm’s length away. ‘I don’t mean tomorrow. Or next month. Hell, maybe not even next year. But one day. When we’re both ready. That’s what I want.’

Michael nods and pushes off the junker. Now only half an arm’s length away. He looks back at the sign. ‘I’m ready whenever you are.’ Drags his eyes slowly back to Alex.

They smile at each other, still able to blush after all these years. And regardless of who moves first, they both land in one another’s arms. Haloed by the sign’s luminescent proposal.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #trash fluff

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catboymingi · 3 years

Text

bittersweet

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; best friends to strangers to enemies to lovers

word count: 7.7k

warnings: self harm, mental illness, suicidal thoughts (though no behaviour described in detail at all), addiction (alcoholism to be precise), language

a/n: this one’s heavy... also this is heavily based on personal experience so don’t come jumping at me for inaccuracies thank u - also the links during the story take you to the same song as the first link, but they have the swedish og lyrics on hover (sorry mobile users)

när jag var liten kändes alltid som att det var du och jag mot skiten / så jag ville att vi skulle göra allt tillsammans / men jag märkte tydligt att du ville nånting annat / behandlade mig sämst / vi var bara ungar - when i was small it always felt like it was you and me against the world / so i wanted us to do everything together / but i noticed clearly that you wanted something else / treated me worst / we were just kids

you had no idea what happened. you’d been so close with mingi ever since you moved, him being the first friend you’d made in the new school, and eight-year-old you really appreciated him. he fought off the bullies for you, he was always there, but suddenly he wasn’t. you were in high school, and everything had been as always, until it wasn’t. until he started avoiding you like you had a deadly and contagious disease, like you’d killed his parents. he hated you and you had no idea why, had no idea why your best friend suddenly decided that some random people he’d barely ever talked to before were a better company than you, who’d been with him through thick and thin for the past decade. saying that you were heartbroken was an understatement.

it took you so long to get back on track after the day mingi had started avoiding you, hating you, but eventually, you managed to do it. you banned all thoughts of him from your head, deleted all messages, pictures, and other traces of him you had on your phone and got rid of all physical memories, too. your parents knew you weren’t okay, and they were so relieved when you asked them if you could set something on fire in the backyard, because it finally seemed like you were getting closer to healing. it had been months, and they’d been worried for your life, but they had no idea how to get your now ex-best friend to reach out to you. they couldn’t call him up and just tell him that he needed to talk to you before you killed yourself, even though they wished they could.

by the time you started university you were almost back to normal, the only outward signs of what you’d gone through being the scars covering your arms and your refusal to drink alcohol, at all. you got obsessed with your major, studying to become a therapist so that you could maybe, hopefully help people feel understood and okay when they were in a similar situation to the one you’d been in. this passion made you the best of your year, acing all exams because every free minute was spent on revising the materials and taking on extra projects and doing all you could to keep yourself busy.

but you weren’t okay, not actually. the worry was still there, the fear, and it was the reason why you hadn’t made a single friend even when the fourth semester of university was almost over already. it was after a particularly hard exam (that of course you’d aced again) that you, for the first time since your other half had left, agreed to go out with someone, a random dude from your course that you’d consequently ignored up to that point who invited you to some maths major’s party.

“it’s gonna be fun, and we deserve some fun after that fucking hell of an exam” was how he had convinced you, and you decided that it couldn’t hurt.

what you didn’t know then yet, however, was that he’d ditch you the second you’d taken off your jacket at the party that same evening, saying that if he’d known that you were a nutcase he’d never have asked you out.

“you’re hot but that’s just not what i wanna put up with.” and that from a psychology major. great.

the evening got worse when you found out whose party this was. you didn’t even know that mingi went to the same uni as you, and he’d obviously moved out of his parents’ house by now, so the address didn’t ring a bell, either. it was first when you saw him that you realised. and everything came crashing down on you again, all the things you’d convinced yourself you were over. and even though you’d promised yourself you’d never touch alcohol again, not even cough medicine including it, you broke that promise now, going straight for the hard liquor. that seemed to impress the horny idiots around you, how you downed it without even flinching, and because you didn’t care about what you should and shouldn’t do right now you let the first one to make a move touch you up and down, making out with you (which had effectively stolen your first kiss from you, but what did it even matter anymore?) and whispering to your ear just how hot you were. you didn’t care for him, but you knew that the one you cared for couldn’t give fewer shits about you. you were tired of being alone, of being hurt, of being lonely, and you just wanted to forget. so you let this dude whose name you didn’t know and didn’t care to know make out with you on the kitchen counter, because by now there was no way your situation could get any worse anymore, anyway.

your lack of interest seemingly didn’t stay hidden to him, though, so at some point he left you with a displeased grunt. it was obvious he’d expected a little more excitement from you, and now he was looking for the next drunk girl he could get to fuck him. you didn’t care. you got some more alcohol, pushing every thought of your parents as far away as you could, because you knew they’d be so disappointed. they’d always cared, but it hadn’t changed anything for you. the one you needed to care didn’t even notice how you were slipping. you’d be surprised if he’d even known that you got hospitalised after graduation.

but now you were here, in his house, and you hated it, hated him, hated yourself. you wanted to get out, to disappear before he’d ever even notice you’d been there in the first place, so you stole a bottle of whatever was closest to you and left the house.

it was embarrassing that you weren’t even drunk yet. you had no idea how much you’d drunk, but you barely felt tipsy. so when the one you wanted to leave you alone the most came outside after you, you had to deal with the emotions that that caused in you entirely sober.

“the fuck do you want?” you hadn’t expected yourself to be able to be angry at him when you’d get to talk to him again. you’d expected yourself to cry, to break down and beg for him to come back, but maybe at least that the alcohol saved you from.

“i want to check up on you. since when do you drink?”

you hated him. you fucking hated him more than anything else you’d ever hated, except for maybe yourself, and you hated that he thought he had the right to check up on you now when he was the reason you were even in this state at all.

“let’s see. i think you last talked to me on the fifteenth of january, two years ago? so it’s gotta be the sixteenth.” maybe it wasn’t fair to confront him with the effects of what he did like this, but it hadn’t been fair of him to leave you hanging like this either. he deserved this, deserved to know what the fuck he’d done to you. that he’d destroyed the happy, passionate, excited you that you’d been, replacing her with a bitter, suicidal bitch with trust issues through the roof.

“why?” he seemed confused, and you wanted to spit in his face. you wanted to punch him. you wanted anything but to have to talk to him.

“take a wild fucking guess.” and with those words you turned on your heel, leaving him with his emotions as you left with the bottle of alcohol that wouldn’t make it to the next morning.

you were slipping again. picked up all the bad habits you’d had, barely getting sleep because you still had to study, were still obsessed with getting the best grades, but now also had unhealthy habits to feed, so there wasn’t a lot of time left for sleep. it didn’t matter, though - why sleep if you’d only have nightmares either way?

luckily you didn’t see mingi again after that night. that was, until he’d somehow figured out your major, your classes, your schedule, and was waiting for you in front of your classroom after your last class for the day. you tried to bolt, but he grabbed your wrist instinctively to keep you from running away. when you yelped out in pain, though, he let go as if he’d just burned himself. until now he hadn’t even noticed what you looked like. but now that he did, it broke his heart.

“what do you want now? want to fuck me up again? because i can do that by myself now, thank you very much.” your voice shot daggers at him, and he looked like a hit puppy. what made this worse was that he knew you were right.

“please talk to me. i brought vodka.” he didn’t intend to give it to you, but you didn’t have to know that. and his weak bribing worked, which only made him feel even more awful. just how fucking hurt did you have to be to talk to him, the guy you very obviously hated, just because he offered you free booze?

“come.” and you did, followed him to a park near uni you knew was notorious for getting fucked or wasted, and you intended to keep up this reputation as you sat down next to him.

“alcohol.” it wasn’t even a question, you just demanded the bottle, but he wasn’t about to comply.

“first you talk to me.”

the angry glare you gave him could have killed him had you kept it up for longer than a couple seconds, but you sighed in frustration and looked away.

“fine then, talk. but this vodka better be damn good.”

he didn’t know how to start, though. ran his hands through his hair and shifted constantly and looked everywhere but at you. but then, finally, he got his shit together.

“what happened to you?” his eyes were fixed on your arms, the arms whose skin was a lot smoother and healthier the last time he’d seen it, and his voice was soft, almost as if he cared. maybe it was because of that that your reply held less sharpness than the past ones had.

“what do you think?” and his heart broke. he didn’t want it to be him, he didn’t want this to be because of him, he didn’t want to be at fault for so much pain and suffering.

“it’s me.” and when you nodded he wished someone’d beat him up, hard and good, just so he’d feel at least some pain as a payback for all the pain he’d caused you.

your voice was surprisingly soft when you continued, and you didn’t even know why yourself.

“it’s nothing big. i just… slipped, i guess. had a really hard time. i don’t even know what happened to make you hate me like that, and that got to me. like, we didn’t argue or anything, so it wasn’t like i had a reason to stop caring about you. it just felt like without you nothing mattered.”

you sounded calm, collected, but voicing it like this brought back all the hurt, and you just really wanted the alcohol now. you grabbed around him in order to retrieve the bottle from his bag, but he caged you in a hug, effectively making you unable to move.

“it’s a big deal. fuck, y/n, look at you. how is this not a big deal? you can’t even talk to me without getting wasted.”

and even though he was right you hated how it sounded like that was your fault, not his. you hated how it sounded like you were weak for this when he had no idea what the fuck you’d been through these past two years. it made you angry.

“and you’re better? straight up ignoring me for however long it took me to get the hint like some pussy instead of talking to me? we used to be best friends, for fuck’s sake!” you tried to hide your heartbrokenness behind this anger, and once more the person who used to always be there to hold you when you needed it let go of you as if you’d burned him. not even now could he man up.

“you know what? fuck this. fuck your vodka and fuck you. don’t fucking talk to me again. as i said, i’m fucking my life up enough without you there to aid in the process.” and you tried to get up, but he grabbed you by your waist, not wanting to hurt you but refusing to let you go in this state when he hadn’t even gotten to talk to you yet. it was selfish, he knew it was, but he wanted to explain himself. he didn’t know if it’d help you, but he needed the closure. he needed you to know why he’d acted like that and then decide if you still wanted to hate him.

“i’m not letting go”, he said as you struggled in his grip, “not until you’ve listened.”

“i don’t fucking want to hear it!” now you were yelling, and it was only because everyone else in this park was too busy or too knocked out to fully comprehend what was happening that he wasn’t getting his ass beat by a stranger coming to your aid.

“you’re going to listen. you know i’m stronger.” this was an asshole move. it was a massive asshole move, using his strength against you to keep you trapped with him. but your state had him throw out any ethical concerns he otherwise would’ve had, instead pulling you into his lap and holding you tightly.

“then fucking talk and get this over with.” your body had gone slack in his arms, because you knew struggling against him wasn’t going to work. your voice still held the same sharpness to it though. you really hated him.

“you act like i didn’t have a reason”, he started quietly, covering your mouth with his hand when you tried to interrupt him. “but i did. the fuck do you think i felt when you kept being better at everything than me? everything was easy for you, you just went with your feeling, and i was doing awful but i kept trying even though it was hard as shit and you didn’t even notice. you went out to meet people and have a good time while i was sitting home alone trying to keep up. you didn’t even care. i told you i couldn’t join and every single time you just said ‘okay, another time then!’. you didn’t notice how much i missed you. and i got sick and tired of being the only one that’s missing their best friend.”

you listened to what he said and couldn’t believe he was serious right now. he completely broke you because you didn’t spend enough time with him?

“what the fuck, mingi. what the fuck. you wrecked me because you were sulky about me not being around 24/7? let go of me right now or i’m going to break your nose, you know i will.” he knew you would, so he did as you told him to, but not without trying to defend himself.

“it wasn’t that, it was that you never even tried to make follow-up plans! you kept going out with other friends, friends that didn’t have to spend all their nights home studying. you just replaced me.”

“and you didn’t think to fucking talk to me about it? i missed you like crazy, you fucking asshole, but i went out with others because i knew you had to study and because i didn’t want to keep you from that. because i dared to care more about your success than about what i wanted. and then you just dumped me, one day to the next, without an explanation, because you thought i didn’t care? does breaking off all other social contacts look like not caring to you? do hospitalisations look like not caring to you? does this”, you motioned to yourself, “look like not caring to you? i knew you were a coward, but back then i thought it was cute. now i just think it’s pathetic.” you all but spat those last words at his face, and he knew you were right. he knew all that now, but back then he’d been so scared of losing you that he forced himself to lose you. fucking idiotic.

“you act like it didn’t hurt me, too.”

“you sure didn’t act like it when you started fucking around with some people you’d never even talked to right after you decided ignoring me was the way to go!” you were crying now, crying and screaming at him, and you despised yourself for the vulnerability you were showing.

“give me the vodka, mingi.” but he didn’t. and when you tried to grab it he took the bag from you, leaving you staring into the air.

“give me the fucking vodka or i’m gonna leave right now and get my own. and then you’re never gonna see me again.”

but instead of handing you the bottle he all but jumped up, wrapping his arms around you tightly and sounding so incredibly desperate that you felt your anger vanish at his next words.

“please don’t- please don’t do that. please don’t kill yourself. hate me, break my nose, whatever, but please don’t go like that. i can’t handle it. i’m nothing without you.”

and it was now that he started crying, tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder, shaking as if there was an earthquake inside of him that would make him fall to shambles any second. you hadn’t even realised that you might have implied what he obviously thought you meant - what you meant was that this time you’d be the one to ignore him, pretending he didn’t even exist. but his reaction to potentially losing you in a whole new way made you think that maybe, he cared.

“i’m not going to kill myself over you, butthead.” and while your words held a similar level of sharpness to them as they had before, your voice was much softer, calmer - you patted his hands that were linked together in front of your stomach to keep you from leaving, trying to comfort him for whatever reason. he didn’t deserve it, and you were still so angry at him, but he’d been your best friend, your other half, and you still didn’t like to see him suffer like this, even though the part in you that wanted him to feel all the pain you’d felt wouldn’t agree.

“i don’t want to lose you again”, he whimpered against your shoulder. “i never want to lose you again.”

“so what’s your plan? i’m never gonna forget what you did, mingi, i’m never gonna forget how as soon as i start getting happy you come back, crashing into my life as if nothing had happened. i’m never going to let anyone hold me back again.”

“i’m not going to hold you back”, he pleadingly spoke into your skin, “i’m not going to message you, i’m not going to ask to meet up, i’m not going to wait in front of your class, nothing. i’ll only be there when you ask me to.”

“and you think that’d help? having me do all the work again, having me beg for your attention again? you think that’s even remotely what i want?” you weren’t angry at him, because it seemed like he was saying this for you, but you were frustrated. he still didn’t seem to understand at all what you wanted from him, what you’d wanted from him ever since he started ignoring you. you wanted him to fight for you, not vice versa.

“then let me fight for you. let me do the work. i’ll do anything, just please give me another chance. one very last chance. and please… stop all this.” you didn’t need to see him to know what he meant.

“that’s not how it works. i can’t just stop like that when i started. and you’re not gonna be able to fix me, if you think that.”

“i know, of course not, but… please try. it’s summer break soon. maybe then you could… i don’t know what you could. do something. i want to be there for you.”

you didn’t want to give in to him. you didn’t want to believe him. you wanted to keep being angry, you wanted to keep hating him, you didn’t want to risk the same kind of heartbreak you’d felt the first time he left. but this was mingi. and even though you refused to admit it even to yourself, you still missed him like crazy.

“let go.” and he did, hesitantly, but he did as you told him to.

“look at me. look me in the eyes and tell me you know what that’s gonna mean. tell me that you’ll be there when i’m in rehab and can’t go places and i’m angry as shit and hate everything and everyone and mainly you because you made me go to that stupid place. tell me you’ll be there when i relapse, not just once but so many times, and that you won’t get angry. tell me that you fucking know what it means, that you know you won’t be a priority, that there’s gonna be days where i won’t want to hear from you at all. tell me that you know you’re gonna have to fight for me, and tell me that you will. and if you can’t tell me that, let me leave right now to spare both of us the pain because it’s just gonna be a waste of time otherwise.”

“i’ll be there. every single day, or like. whenever i’m allowed to, i don’t know how rehab works. and when i can’t be there i’ll call you and text you, even if you hate me. i’ll hold you until you don’t hate me anymore. even if i have to spend the entire day holding you that’s how it is. i don’t fucking care what i’ll have to do, i’ll do it all. i miss you.” with those last words he pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as he whispered a silent ‘please’ into your hair. and you didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to get your hopes up, but part of you was still so soft for him. so, even though your mind was screaming at you to tell him to fuck off, your heart won, your heart made you wrap your arms around him and hold on tight.

“if you fuck up i’m breaking your legs.”

“if i fuck up i’m breaking them myself.” he knew this was his last chance. he knew that if he messed up now he’d be losing you forever, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

his hands were rubbing up and down your back, as gentle as you remembered him to be, while you were standing there and hugging and trying to calm down. you’d missed him so incredibly much and you wished you could stay in that moment forever.

“how are you feeling?” he could feel you were shaking slightly in his arms, though he wasn’t sure why. it could be the cool air, it could be the emotions running through you, it could be something he didn’t even want to think about. but either way he knew you should probably leave.

“it’s all so fucking much. i’m still pissed at you, but i guess i’m also glad that you’re here. and i’m fucking horrified.”

your shaking was most definitely at least partly owed to your emotional state, because it got worse now, you grabbing his t-shirt and clinging on to it for dear life.

“what are you scared of?” he sounded so fucking soft and calm and you wanted to crawl into his shirt and hide there and never leave for the real world ever again. you wanted him to keep you safe and to protect you because life and the things that were coming for you were scarier than you wanted to admit.

“you. rehab. my parents are gonna be so fucking hurt when i have to go back. fuck, i want the vodka.” but to your surprise you didn’t move to get it, you didn’t try to leave mingi’s embrace.

“you’re staying the night at my place”, he informed you, and you looked up at him in surprise.

“this talk was long overdue, but to be honest even i could use some vodka right now. i don’t want to imagine how you’re feeling, but i know i’m not gonna leave you alone in that state. no won’t count.”

“you know you won’t be able to just make me stop like that?”, you asked, wanting to be sure he didn’t have some weird saviour complex that made him think that just because he was there all your problems would suddenly vanish. but he seemed to know, even though he wished that was how it worked.

“not forever, but tonight’s a good start. i just want to be with you right now.” and even though you really wanted to get drunk you wanted to spend the night with mingi more, something that surprised you, especially considering how you’d just told him he wouldn’t be able to make you stop.

“i’m not going back there yet though, so if anything we’ll go to my place”, was the compromise you offered, and he gladly accepted. he held your hand almost the entire way, refusing to not be touching you in some way now that he might get you back, and this was less awkward than having his arm around your shoulders, which he’d tried first.

your apartment was a mess, you knew it was, but instead of judging you the tall male just kicked whatever trash you’d left on the floor out of the way to make his way to your bed, where he intended to spend the rest of the day and the entire night. he wrapped his arms around you as soon as you’d settled next to him, pulling you close like he used to when you were younger.

“i’m so sorry for all this”, he whispered, “so so fucking sorry.” and even though you’d somewhat sorted what had happened in the past, this was the first time he actually apologised. you hadn’t known how much you needed to hear him apologise until he did, whining out slightly as you pressed yourself closer against him. you wanted him to keep talking, keep apologising, keep promising that he wasn’t going to leave. but he was quiet after that, so instead of his comforting words your thoughts filled the silence in your head.

“keep talking before i get up”, you told him, the choice of words making it sound like a threat but the pleading way you said it making it clear that you were all but begging him. and he complied, luckily he complied, because you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts away for much longer.

“i missed you every day. it wasn’t fun to sit at lunch without you, or be in class, or do anything, really. i know it’s my fault, but back then i expected you to fight more, and when you just stopped trying after a while i thought i was right, even though you tried to talk to me every day for like two weeks and every single time i just straight up acted like i didn’t even hear you. i have no idea what i expected you to do, actually. sing me a love song in front of my window?” he chuckled a little, though it sounded somewhat bitter.

“i think that’s what i was secretly hoping for, if i’m real. not a love song, maybe, but some kinda confession. but instead of opening my mouth myself i just hoped that you’d get the hint i never even dropped. guess i really am a coward, huh?” he was running a hand through your hair, gently scratching your scalp whenever he dragged his fingers down because back then you’d liked that and he hoped you still did.

“you’re an idiot”, you mumbled, though his somewhat-confession made you feel all weird inside. you’d liked him back then, too, but admittedly he hadn’t been the only coward. and before you’d ever had the chance to gather the courage to confess he’d cut you off.

“i know. i don’t think i’ve ever done anything more stupid than that. and now i’ve wasted my chance and have to live with the fact that i’ll die without ever having gotten to kiss you. it’s my own fault, though.” there was a hint of playful resignation in his tone, as if this confession was more to get it off his chest than it was for him to actually confess to you - as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that you might feel the same way.

“just do it now.”

he hadn’t expected that, surprise apparent when he asked: “can i?”, and you knew you should say no, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be in your bed with mingi so close and telling him to kiss you, but you’d missed him, and you were hurt and happy and desperate, and you just wanted to feel loved. and though this didn’t have to be love, this didn’t have to mean as much as you wanted it to, you could pretend. you wanted to pretend, so you didn’t say ‘no’ as you should, but ‘yes’ as you wanted.

and he did it, leaning in to press his lips against yours but not moving any more until you hadn’t pulled away even after a few seconds. then he actually kissed you, his one thumb stroking your cheek while the other was fondling with some strands of hair at the back of your head. and you knew your breath was gross, still reeking of the alcohol you’d drunk earlier that day, but mingi didn’t care. you were warm and soft against him and you were there and he’d take whatever he could get from you, even if it was vodka breath.

you didn’t want him to pull away, because you feared that once he did your world would come crashing down again and he’d tell you that now his curiosity was stilled and this should remain a one-time thing.

and you feared that you’d been right about this being a one-time thing, because he apologised as soon as he broke the kiss. but he didn’t apologise for what you thought he’d apologise for.

“i shouldn’t have done that. not like this. fuck, i just took advantage of this entire situation, i’m so sorry. fuck. feel free to break my nose.”

“don’t break my heart and i won’t break your bones. deal?” the big smile he gave you was so easy to see even though it was starting to get dark outside now, and you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your own mouth. he was here, and he’d kissed you, and maybe he’d do it again. maybe you’d finally be able to be okay again, actually okay, really okay.

“i promise.” he pulled your head into his chest, resuming to run his fingers through your hair and telling you sweet nothings.

“you’re so beautiful. so kind and so strong, such a fighter. i’m so glad i’m here right now, so grateful you let me, and i’m never going to leave again, ever. i’m here now, and you won’t have to be alone anymore. i’ll try to make it right, all the things i did wrong. i’m sorry. but i’m with you now.”

you were pretty certain he wasn’t even thinking much about what he was saying, just saying anything that was on his mind, as much for you as for himself. but even if it wasn’t for you that he was saying all this, it still helped you, comforted you, gave you some hope. one thing you had to clear up, though.

“we’re not a thing”, you murmured into his chest, though the way you were clinging to him betrayed your words, showed how much you wanted to be. “we’re not a thing because you don’t know anything. you can’t play a video game on easy and then enter the world championship and think you’ll win. i can’t talk to you for a single day and then think it’d work out.”

and mingi got it. he knew that this was a decision that had to be made logically, not based on what he wanted in that moment. but that didn’t mean he was just going to give up like this. he told you he’d fight for you, and he would.

“talk to me more, then. i told you i’m not going to leave.”

“you say that now.” there was sadness in your voice, resignation. “but it’s different when i’m shitfaced. when i’m crying my eyes out because recovery is hard and i don’t want to anymore. when i call you at 3 in the morning begging you to come over and check on me and make sure i’m not dying because i’m scared i went too deep this time. when i tell you i hate you even though you didn’t do shit just because i need someone to take my anger out on. none of this shit is pretty or romantic and the sooner you realise that, the better.”

“i’m going to be there.” he didn’t say more and you were glad about that, because even though you’d been the one to bring all this up you didn’t want to talk about it, you just wanted to be held and comforted and protected. and he did, he held you until you fell asleep, and was still holding you when you woke up the next morning.

it was weird to be back with mingi. it was familiar but completely different, and it was hard, as you’d told him it’d be. but he kept his promise, even though it hurt to see you struggle and in pain, he was there when you needed him and he was there when you didn’t. he was there to hold you when you called your parents to tell them you had to go back to rehab, and he was there to calm your nerves the day before you left, force-feeding you snacks to keep your mouth busy because by now he’d learned the signs of when you really craved alcohol and while he learned that the most he could usually do was to make sure you didn’t drink yourself into a coma that night he made sure you didn’t drink at all, because you were going to rehab the next day and he wanted you to have decent starting conditions and he knew you wanted that, too, and a hangover was the worst starting condition you could possibly have. he was there to kiss you that night, because even though you’d been the one to tell him to not try anything until he’d proven he meant it the snacks just didn’t do it and you needed something else in your mouth. he knew it was just your desperation that had made you beg him to please kiss you, but he did, he was there as he’d promised, even when it hurt like this. he was there to hold you when you cried into his chest after, promising you that it would be okay and that he would be right there the entire time and when you got back, too.

he was there the next day when you clung on to his hand with a force that could probably break his fingers sooner or later, horrified of entering the building in front of you. he was there to hold you in place when you tried to bolt as soon as they started the admission process, he was there to tell you that he was so proud of you and to promise you that it would be okay. he was there to call you that night, relieved that you were allowed to, and he was there to talk you through all your fears. he was there a week later, when you were first allowed to get visitors, with a rather big teddy bear wearing one of his shirts and a self-made card that read “one week sober!”, small celebratory drawings all over.

“i wanted to bring a cake, but they don’t do that with people that just started. you’ll get one at the one month mark though, pinky promise.” you linked your pinky with his for maybe two seconds before you threw yourself into his arms, clinging on to him as if your life depended on it.

“please take me home. please just take me home”, pleaded into his shoulder repeatedly, like a mantra, and he held you so tight.

“it’s worth it, my strong little angel, it’s okay. i promise.” he was rubbing up and down your back comfortingly, continuously saying how proud he was until you let go just enough to look into his face and see the warmth in his eyes.

“you’re going to stay right here until they kick you out”, you ordered, though what you were actually doing was begging him to please not leave you alone until he had to. you felt like the odd one out here, the only alcoholic still in their twenties, and their early twenties at that. the only other person roughly your age was a guy with an anxiety disorder that looked at you like you were the filth of the earth, and that didn’t exactly make you want to talk to him. you missed mingi, you missed seeing him, and having to watch the other patients be able to go out and meet people outside the therapy times when in your state you’d have to stay until the staff could be certain you weren’t going to relapse only made it worse.

“they’ll have to drag me out by the ears”, he reassured you, and finally you smiled, a genuine smile that made his heart hurt a little less.

“call this one mingi”, pointing to the teddy bear that had been discarded when you’d flung yourself into his arms, “and pretend he’s me. not as good as the real deal, but at least he’s wearing my t-shirt.”

“butthead.” but you looked at him with, as he hoped, the same feelings he had for you, which showed him that he’d chosen a good gift.

he brought you a small gift whenever he came by, and after bothering the nurses continuously (which resulted in them begging the staff in charge of your unit to please let him get his way) he was allowed to bring you food, though only in sealed packages which they checked closely for both the ingredients and even the slightest chance of him having managed to put alcohol in. it was somewhat of a hassle, but the way your expression brightened when he brought you your favourite cereal from when you were 12 and which you’d stopped eating by age 15 because it was ‘for children’ was definitely worth it. things still weren’t easy, especially with how cut off you felt from the outside world, and there had been several nights where you’d screamed at mingi on the phone about how much you hated him for having caused all this and then being cut off by the nurses because your phone time was over before you’d had a chance to tell him that you were sorry for screaming like this, but he never got upset with you for that. instead, he texted you an apology to see after dinner, along with telling you how proud he was. and he stayed, as he’d promised you.

your one month of sobriety was the day you were discharged, because you’d been doing surprisingly well and because you’d managed to convince your responsible treatment team that you’d do better if you didn’t feel so alone and cut off, if you had the chance to do things rather than sit in the hospital all day and overthink your situation. you had an outpatient treatment plan and when you’d told mingi about being dismissed he kindly but sternly told you that he’d kick your ass into next monday if you didn’t follow it. and now he was here, picking you up both from the facility and from the ground, twirling you around as soon as you were in his arms. you’d agreed that you’d spend the first few days at his place, so that’s where he brought you now.

the tall male carried the few things you had with you into his flat while you stood next to the car, taking a little while to get used to the thought of being a part of the outside world again. you were glad mingi was there, because while you were so happy to be out it was still scary to know that now it was up to you alone whether you relapsed or not.

you were delighted to see that he’d kept his promise about the one month mark-cake, because while it wasn’t exactly pretty you soon found out that it made up for that in taste, and also because it was so sweet and thoughtful. it seemed like he’d prepared a little party for you, with one of those silly ‘welcome home’ banners hanging in the living room and colourful plastic cups on the table, next to various kinds of juice and soda. you had no idea how, but he’d even managed to organise strawberry soda, something that you hadn’t seen in stores in ages.

“butthead.” you didn’t know how else to react to all this. it was so much, so unnecessarily much that you didn’t know whether to cry with happiness or to smack him because this probably took a lot of time and money. you decided that calling him butthead again would be a good compromise.

“angel”, he grinned at you, entirely unbothered by your (admittedly weak) insult. then his expression turned serious, walking over to stand right next to you with a few long steps before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“i’m so glad you’re back, you know that? i missed you like crazy.”

“i missed you too. don’t let go.”

he wasn’t planning on doing that anyway. he’d be so stupid if he did. and he’d be so stupid if he didn’t tell you how he felt.

“i love you. i love you i love you i love you. now break my nose for being a butthead.”

“be my butthead and i’ll consider leaving your bones intact.” you tried to play it cool, but your heart was beating so hard you feared it would jump out of your chest, and this time you could be 100% sure that it wasn’t withdrawals. it was just mingi, the boy who’d kept his promise to be there, the boy who’d helped you piece yourself back together in some way again. the boy who wanted to be with you even though the way you’d pieced yourself back together was so far from who he’d known before you shattered. it was mingi, the boy whom you loved back.

“so the b in bf stands for butthead? that’s what you’re saying?” he was teasing you, just a little, but it was okay because you could tell he was just nervous and scared that he might have misunderstood you and was trying to mask that through his joke.

“or maybe it stands for big beautiful boyfriend, you decide.”

“i’ll take the boyfriend! i’ll take the boyfriend. please let me be your boyfriend.” looking at you pleadingly, though also somewhat excited, and you knew you’d never let him go again.

“then you’re my big beautiful boyfriend. what am i?”

you were expecting him to joke, but he didn’t. he was entirely serious when he said: “you’re my world.”

and this seriousness overwhelmed you just a little bit, so that you were left speechless. and he continued.

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen. you’re my strong little angel.”

“you’re not supposed to be so sweet, i don’t know how to handle it”, you whined out, but he just smiled down at you, taking in every detail of your face.

“get used to it.” you knew you wouldn’t ever get used to it, you knew you wouldn’t ever get enough of him telling you sweet things like that. maybe you’d get better at reacting over time, though. but since right now you were very much not good at reacting yet, you said something that maybe wasn’t the most appropriate reaction to his sweet-talking you.

“you know i still hate you though, right?” even though your voice gave away that you didn’t, far from.

“makes for a great enemies to lovers storyline”, he teased, smiling down at you with entire galaxies in his eyes.

“just kiss me, butthead.”

it didn’t take more than a few seconds before he did. he kissed you slowly, because you had all the time in the world, thumb tracing all your features while your hands were wrapped around his neck. and while your first kisses had been bitter with alcohol and desperation, this one was sweet with cake and love.

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