#personally i would never let me teenage daughter into the attic to hang out with her boyfriend but whatever

[deathbypufferfish]

she babygirlified him so fast it’s scary

#puffer legacy #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #simblr #maxis match #plgen1 #miyu terzi #oscar castillo #personally i would never let me teenage daughter into the attic to hang out with her boyfriend but whatever #its for the pics

[goggles-mcgee]

Okay, So I need to Ask Um, Got any salt on Marinette's Parents? Because as much As I love them in the show, They are almost never around to do anything.

Oh yeah definitely.

The show shows them to be loving supportive parents and I think a lot of us like to latch onto that when writing but when you take a step back, you realize they are almost never around and why? Because of their business. They are neglectful. Now it very well could be they don't mean to be, but the fact of the matter is, they are and as a result of that Marinette is very mature and always feels pressure to do things on her own or to make things perfect. That's a lot to put on a child.

Anyways mini rant over! There are 3 ideas on my Dead Sea Salt List that include Tom and Sabine salt and I shall tell them to you and the ways they are salted!

Idea 3. Marinette, The Rolling Stone:

This one is obvious here as this whole story is about Jagged and Penny adopting Marinette. Tom and Sabine like to think they know their daughter but the truth is they aren't around a lot. They don't even notice that she doesn't hang out with the girls in class anymore and hasn't done so in months for crying out loud! They don't even notice that she hasn't gone out to hang out with her friends either.

But then Marinette's friends come in and start telling them that Marinette is bullying the new girl, they don't even recognize Lila from when she almost got Marinette expelled, and Lila herself creates a sob story and well Tom and Sabine notice then and there just how often Marinette has been at home by herself. They fall for the lies.

And well, this is a blessing in disguise for them, they were getting busier with the bakery and thinking of opening up another location and doing that while juggling a teenager would be so difficult, especially a problem child. They decide to kick Marinette out, but they aren't "malicious" or "cold-hearted" they decide to emancipate her. They purely do it because they think they are protecting their family members by not letting Marinette manipulate them into thinking she's the sweet person they thought she was, and they want to protect their image. They don't want their family members to think ill of them.

Then Jagged Stone pops up wanting to commission Marinette, but Tom and Sabine tell them they grounded Marinette from designing and took away her sewing machine. He's livid and demands the reason why, they tell him and he just looks at them like they lost their heads, even asks if they did, because he knows there's no way Marinette would bully someone. They insist she has and she's changed and she's this horrible little liar and manipulator and that's why they are getting rid of her. It takes a lot for him not to get akumatized then and there but Jagged firmly says he'll adopt Marinette.

They try their best to talk him out of it but he's set. So they let him, they just know hope he knows he can't return her when he finds out they were right.

Life is good for them after they get rid of Marinette, that is until the interview. Nadja gets an exclusive interview with Jagged Stone, Penny Rolling and their new adoptive daughter that they have been raving about on social media. Nadja does nothing to hold back her disgust when she recounts what Marinette and her new parents had told her about Tom and Sabine kicking her out all because of a liar. The interview is an hour special where they debunk each and every single one of Lila's lies. And Tom and Sabine watch and the pits in their stomachs grow the more they watch.

After all that. Paris erupts. Gabriel literally passes out from all the anger and sadness he feels from his Miraculous and has to take sleeping medication and just sleep the day away. Everyone who had ever met Marinette was furious, not only at her school and friends, but at her parents too. Regulars who used to come in stopped. Which is a kind of a big deal in France, you pick a bakery and basically stick to it. Despite their products being good, people are hesitant to go to Tom and Sabine's, because how can they go to a place and expect to be treated well when the owners treated their own daughter so awfully and for what? For lies?

They can't even get a second location anymore, the owner of the place they were going to buy from refused their offer. They wanted someone who treasured baking and family to buy their place and they can see that Tom and Sabine don't treasure those ideals. They still get business, but it's not as good as it had been. Some people come in and buy something small but they always have something to say about Marinette, like how it's a shame she's not there, or how her cupcakes were always decorated the best, or how her smile always made their day. Little jabs that just made Tom and Sabine hurt more.

They tried to get Marinette back but to no luck. They tried to say the adoption wasn't legal because of the lies but that got slammed down pretty fast. They tried to talk with her anyway they could think of till she changed her number and Jagged and Penny threatened to take legal action against them.

Everytime they went out, it felt like they were being judged. Like people didn't even want to look at them.

Gina and Roland basically disowned them

Idea 6. Wish Me Away

Not a lot of salt but Tom and Sabine were getting more and more distant with Marinette the closer the big battle got. She tried to pretend she didn't notice but she did, they seemed to only be around ling enough to give her good mornings, obligatory 'I love you's', even when they had dinner together it felt like when they asked her how her day was they were only doing it because it was what parents did, not because they were genuinely interested. Everyday that got closer to the fight she had wanted to be honest and just tell them that she was being crushed under all the weight of her responsibilities but she knew if she did she would be met with disappointment and fake sympathy.

She knew it wasn't healthy, she knew it wasn't right, but Marinette figured she was better off than most kids so she never complained. Then the battle happened and the wish happened and honestly, her parents didn't notice she didn't come home. They figured she was at a friend's house. The second night it was a Sunday so they just figured she was still at a friend's. The third day it was Monday, a school day and nothing, she never came home for lunch which she always did, they remembered that at least. So they called the school to ask if she had been in that day but the school told them, very politely, that no one by the name Marinette Dupain Cheng ever went to their school.

Of course they freak out and assume this must be the work of an Akuma. But days pass by and they really start to get worried and try to get Nadja to help them but even she looks at them like they're crazy and calmly tells them they don't have a daughter. That's when they finally go up to Marinette's room and see it's just a normal attic. Then Marinette's classmates come by and her teacher and they ask where she is and they nearly weep because somebody else remembers her and they tell them what has been going on. They too think it's an Akuma.

Then Adrien comes by with a woman they've never met and he looks like he'll but they refrain from saying anything, they still keep their business going because they figure if it is an Akuma then Ladybug and Chat Noir will defeat it any day now and Marinette will come back. There are days when they forget that Marinette is missing and doesn't that just say something? But they have to tell Adrien that only a few people remember Marinette and they suspect it's an Akuma. They don't notice how pale the boy gets or the cold face his mother makes at the mention of an Akuma but they give them a couple discounted treats and send them on their way.

Then Ladybug makes an appearance on Nadja's network and says it's to give an announcement. She looks different, older, and her suit is also different but everyone is paying attention. She tells of the battle with Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste, that was the first big shock, she tells them that she was betrayed by Chat Noir, but she would not give out his name as he was already living out his punishments, she tells them that Hawkmoth made his wish and the world was paying for it, that Gabriel and Chat were paying for it, they lost someone dear to them, for Gabriel it was Nathalie, for Chat it was the previous Ladybug, Marinette Dupain Cheng...their existences had been erased from the universe but those who had wronged them or failed them would be punished with the memories of them.

Tomnand Sabine froze at that because it made sense, and at the same time didn't. How did they fail Marinette? They just couldn't understand it. Gina didn't remember having a granddaughter but she remembered Tom and Sabine calling and asking about a Marinette, and in a rare moment she had been in Paris during the announcement and had heard what Ladybug had said. She cried for the little girl she didn't know but she was angry at her son and his wife because they clearly remembered her so they were being punished, and she could imagine why. Their bakery was always their top priority, it was their baby, everything else came second. They never wanted a baby, they never said it out loud but she knew, so she could only imagine what this Marinette had to go through and she cried for the girl.

Roland remembered being helped by the heroes but he doesn't remember why but when he watched the announcement he thinks it may be because of the granddaughter he can't remember, he didn't want to see his son or wife, it had been that way for awhile, but he felt his heart wrench for the granddaughter he couldn't remember and would never get to know. Roland was even more disappointed in his son when he got a call asking if he remembered this Marinette, because it meant he had failed his own daughter and their protector. He knew he wasn't the best father but he felt outraged on behalf of the granddaughter he lost.

People found out that Tom and Sabine remembered and so they found out they were being punished, which made people a bit wary of them.

[The "new" Ladybug is literally just Tikki using Trixx's illusions, Tikki is hella petty in this fic, also okay that was more salt that I thought]

Idea 9. Ivy's Sapling:

This one definitely doesn't have a lot of salt towards them but there is some. They do care about Marinette and they see her as a niece more than a daughter. So they aren't really as involved in her life as maybe they should be but she understands that they didn't ask for her. When the problems with Lila start up they want to believe in her and they do at the beginning but they start to question of they could be true because of her background. From what her and Gina said, she was from the bad part of Gotham and so was her mother, they never told them she was Poison Ivy's kid, they just know that Marinette's mother goes by Pamela when she talks with Marinette on the phone.

So they don't fully turn on Marinette but they do start to be wary and more questioning, they don't trust her as much as they did before which does hurt her but they don't fully believe Lila and her classmates, or more like they don't want to believe.

#ml class salt #ml salt #ml salt fic #ivys sapling au #ivy sapling #wish me away au #wish me away #marinette the rolling stone au #Marinette the rolling stone #tom dupain #tom dupain salt #sabine cheng #sabine cheng salt #Marinette's parents salt #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #maribat #mldccrossover #mldccrossover Pamela Isley | Poison Ivy #adrien agreste salt #lila rossi salt #lila rossi gets exposed

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (5/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 15, 2018

The leaves were beginning to change outside the window; the maples turning russet, the birch yellow. Scully felt pendulous and gravid, the child in her belly more active than her previous two combined. Sleep was becoming difficult, but by day they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, safe and unmolested from the dangers that were beginning to feel as though they had never existed at all.

She stretched and left Mulder, half his face obscured by his pillow, his lips soft and pliant in sleep. A fresh pot of decaf awaited her in the kitchen, its automatic timer set by Mulder late last night.

The kids were still asleep, as far as she could tell -- she'd heard Lily come home well after midnight. She'd been up reading anyway when her daughter had popped her head into their bedroom door and whispered "I'm home." The girl had been wearing a small smile and Scully recognized the look. Lily was falling in love.

Will shuffled into the kitchen sleepily, a palm rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He approached Scully where she stood at the counter and put an arm around her shoulder, leaning on her. He still smelled like the sleepy little boy who liked to cuddle into her side to watch nature shows when he was six.

"Morning Mom," he said, taking a snuffly breath. He leaned down and rested his cheek against her head (he was almost as tall as Mulder, though still as skinny as a maypole). Scully wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him in closer. Affection from her kids was getting fewer and farther between now that they were active teenagers. She was determined to enjoy whatever she got.

"Morning," she said, giving his back a little rub, "you're up early."

"Yeah," he said on a yawn. "There's an open rink this morning and a couple of buddies are going. Is it okay if I join them?"

Scully nodded. "Just make sure you tell your dad, too. Know the exits before you go and keep an eye on the crowd."

Will squeezed her once and then let go, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and holding up like James Bond. "Call me Double O Billy," he said and sidled back to his room off of Scully's bemused chuckle.

She spent an hour catching up on email that had been routed through the Gunmen and Darlene -- coded messages that they interpreted and sent to her mother, sister and brothers. Melissa was giving her a hard time about not letting her fly to Europe (where she thought they were) to be her doula when the time came to give birth. She was tempted to send Byers to her sister's house to explain exactly what was happening, but rejected the impulse. Their mother -- the only person other than the Gunmen and the X-Files triumvirate at the FBI who knew their situation (though not their location for her own protection) -- would talk her down eventually.

Mulder came padding up behind her as she closed the laptop and she felt a soft, drawn-out kiss on the side of her neck.

"Morning," he mumbled into her skin.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, then turned to receive his kiss.

"Morning," she said.

"I’ll be back shortly. I'm going to drop Billy off at the ice complex and then take Lil to campus -- she suddenly started liking football."

"I think it's the company rather than the sport," Scully said, turning in her chair to face him.

"...I'm going to choose to believe my version," he said.

Scully reached out and linked their fingers briefly. "Tell her to be careful," she said, "she's spending a lot of time out of the house."

Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. "I will," he said, "and when I get back, I have a few ideas for how we can spend our child-free afternoon." He waggled his eyebrows at her and let go, backing out of the room like the charmer he was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“So why UVA?” Travis asked her. He had his head propped up on an elbow and his other hand was wrapped loosely around her foot, his thumb rubbing circles into her arch. She was on the couch in his dorm room and he was on the floor -- she’d been helping him study for mid-terms. They had been officially dating for five weeks and had seen each other at least every other day in that time. He’d introduced her to a couple of friends as his girlfriend.

“What?” she asked. It was hard enough to concentrate while getting a foot massage, and she’d been staring at the index cards in front of her, trying to find a question that would stump him.

“Why are you going to UVA? Brain like yours, you could have gone anywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why there.”

“Other than the in-state tuition?” She had told him that they’d moved from Virginia, but hadn’t elaborated.

“Other than that,” he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to. When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally get called in to consult there and he would take me with him. I kinda fell in love with it.”

“What did your dad consult on?” he asked, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Travis tapped her other leg, and she switched feet, silencing a groan when his knuckle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She had purposely avoided mentioning her family much and debated how much was safe to share.

“UVA has a Department of Perceptual Studies,” she said, and she saw him tilt his head in question.

“A department of what?”

“Perceptual studies,” she said, smiling, “it’s a research group devoted to the investigation of phenomena that challenge mainstream scientific paradigms regarding the nature of the mind/brain relationship.” Travis stopped rubbing her foot and looked at her. She went on, further quoting her dad’s friend Dr. Stevenson: “Their mission is the scientific empirical investigation of phenomena that suggest that currently accepted scientific assumptions and theories about the nature of mind or consciousness, and its relation to matter, may be incomplete.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I shit you not.”

“What kind of phenomena?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tried not to smile, “ESP, poltergeists, near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, claimed memories of past lives.”

“And what did they want with your father?” he asked, sitting up.

She shrugged. “He’s a shrink,” she said, being deliberately vague.

“This is an accredited university?” He teased her. She kicked at him, and he ducked out of the way and laughed, then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I myself had an out-of-body experience with Trudy Carmichael under the bleachers when I was sixteen. Pretty sure I saw through time.”

Lily chuckled, then playfully challenged: “Do I need to worry about this Trudy Carmichael?”

“I doubt it,” he said, hanging his head, “I lost my virginity, and she lost my number. Not my finest hour.”

“A whole hour?,” Lily said wryly.

“One way to find out.”

He looked at her then and she looked back. The moment was charged and sat in between them. The truth was, Lily was still a virgin. She and Travis had messed around, but fairly innocently, and she’d demurred on action below the waist/under the clothes. “I’m not waiting for marriage,” she’d told him a few weeks back, but she did want to wait for love. If only she knew what that felt like.

“Hey, Frisbee,” Travis said when she didn’t say anything, “please don’t take this as a negotiation tactic -- you’ve been clear on your limits and I totally respect that -- and with the full understanding that you don’t need a reason, and you do you and all that -- but… do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asked, clarifying.

“When I say ‘no pressure,’ I mean it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her foot.

Lily looked around his sloppy dorm room. There were clothes strewn about, though mostly out of the way— socks balled up near the laundry hamper, a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair. The wooden loft that held his bed was posted around the couch, made of flimsy-looking two-by-fours, and did not look like it could hold his weight, much less hers in addition, and remained untried (though Travis swore it had passed inspection). His desk was more fastidiously kept, a reflection of his mind, a structured order in the midst of chaos. He was kind and smart. His smile could make her insides go liquid.

“Honestly?” she finally said, “it’s my parents.”

“Super religious?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from laughing. “No, it’s… My parents love each other. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Their love is like… romance film love. It’s practically written in the stars.”

He looked at her contemplatively. “That’s a lot to live up to,” he said. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, then, “no.” It was and it wasn’t. She didn’t know if there was a love out there that could compare, she suspected there wasn’t. Her real hang-up, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since she found her father’s first wedding picture in their attic -- was that her father had obviously made a mistake. What if she did too?

She laughed, annoyed at herself. This wasn’t Regency England. Sex didn’t mean marriage. It didn’t even necessarily mean love. Still...

“Come on,” she said, sitting up and grabbing for his class notes, “this bio exam isn’t going to take itself.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound woke her. Her hips were in agony and sleeping was difficult, so initially she was more annoyed than anything; she could rarely line up more than 90 minutes straight of deep slumber. And then she heard it again.

She reached over, squeezed Mulder's bicep until she heard him sniff sharply awake and silently, pulled out the sidearm she kept inside her bedside table. Mulder, slipping out of bed without a word, pulled out his own gun and went to the door. He held up a hand, trying to tell Scully to stay back, but she shook her head angrily -- she would have his back whether he liked it or not.

When he moved into the hallway, she stepped on the back of his heel and he ended up ramming his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore low under his breath. They were out of sync.

She watched as he put his head into the kids rooms as he made his way down the hallway, nodding at her that they were both accounted for. One more thunk from the living room.

He sidled up to the wall that led to the room and backed up against it. He mouthed one-two-three and they went in, but where she usually went low and he went high, this time they rammed shoulders and stumbled into the room. Mulder flicked on the light when she finally had her weapon aimed true.

There, sitting on a high bookshelf sat Apgar, her black tail swishing merrily. Maintaining eye contact, she swiped one more of the professor's knick-knacks off the shelf and onto the floor.

Mulder dropped his weapon and heaved a sigh, tipping his head back in frustration. "Fucking cat," he hissed.

Mission completed, Apgar jumped down with a thump and weaved a figure eight between Mulder's legs.

"She must be hungry," Scully said.

"Hangry was invented by cats," Mulder mumbled, reaching down to pet the cat with his free hand.

"Our tactical coordination was atrocious," Scully said, flicking the light back off and holding her gun at her hip.

"Yes," Mulder agreed.

"When was the last time you went to the range?" she asked.

"It's been months," he said tiredly.

"We're going tomorrow," Scully said. Mulder knew better than to argue.

XxX

There were more than a few Molon Labe bumper stickers in the parking lot. Scully had to remind herself that they were in Michigan Militia territory. "Michitucky," she'd heard it called by a few guys at the Bureau. Nevertheless, she pulled up to the firing range with fire in her blood. She might not share their politics, but she would share their space, and show most of them up to boot.

They signed in and bought ammunition. She got a few extra looks for being a visibly pregnant woman, but most of the men (and they were all men) who were at the range gave her begrudging looks of approval. Mulder stood, standing straighter and closer than normal, practically growling at anyone who got too close. She had to admit that his fierce protective nature was more than a turn-on.

The range was outdoors -- different than what they were used to at Quantico. And where there were metal tables and dividers and state of the art equipment at the government facility, here it was all beat-to-shit plywood tables and sunburnt grass littered with shell casings and old ear plugs. They took the lane at the end.

They both loaded and checked their weapons, snugged earmuffs over their heads.

"You want to go first?" Mulder asked, double checking the safety on his pistol and setting it on the table behind their station.

"I can do that," Scully said, looking down at her Sig.

"Care for a little wager?" her husband asked.

"You can't afford me, Dr. Mulder," she said, admiring the still-lanky line of his physique.

He raised his eyebrows, and leaned back against the tall wobbly table. "Oh-ho," he said, "I suppose that depends on the currency." He had a smug look about him that she wanted to wipe off his face. She was a better marksman and more competitive than anyone gave her credit for.

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Dishes?" he offered, "Laundry?"

"We had children for the menial labor," she challenged, "I can win this with one hand tied behind my back. Make it interesting for me."

He licked his lips. She had him.

"I liked the part about 'hands behind the back,'" he said, "Winner decides who wears the handcuffs."

"You're not exactly incentivizing this, Mulder."

He had a flushed look about him; his nostrils flared.

"Prove it," he said, and she felt a flush. Second trimester hormones could be a beautiful thing, she mused.

It took her several rounds before she got back into the groove. It actually had been too long since she'd practiced and she was rusty. Considering their current situation, she ought not to let it happen again. Her last few rounds were dead center. Once her clip was empty, she cleared her weapon and stepped back.

Mulder's turn.

He wasn't quite as out of practice as she was initially, which irritated her to no end. However, his fourth and fifth shots were a bit wide, and he ended around the edges.

When he was clear, she stepped back up and took a bracing breath. She raised her weapon and fired rapidly; all her shots were center mass except the last two, which she swung up and finished with perfect shots to the head of the paper dummy.

When Mulder stepped forward for his turn, she nudged him.

"How big would you say the back of the Yukon is?'" she asked casually.

His first three shots went wide.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 17, 2018

“Mom?” Lily asked. There was a hesitancy in her voice that made Scully look up from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner. “How did you know you loved Dad?”

Scully set the knife down and turned toward her daughter. “That’s a big question, Lil.”

“What’s a big question?” Mulder came breezing into the kitchen, shooting Scully an intrigued look.

Scully suspected something was up, but didn’t want to embarrass their daughter. Lily had always had an inquisitive streak and would occasionally come to Scully with problems or questions, but she was apt to clam up when pressed.

“Lily was asking me about how I fell in love with you,” Scully said, trying to catch Mulder’s eye.

“It was the day she met me, no doubt,” Mulder said. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and shined it on his sleeve before taking a snappy bite. “I’m catnip to the ladies,” he said around the mouthful. Lily smiled. Scully rolled her eyes.  

“Suddenly, I’m struggling to remember,” Scully said with mock derision. Mulder gave her a cheeky grin.

“Did you know right away?” Lily asked.

Scully paused. “Not… Not right away,” she said thoughtfully.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents. “I guess it was a long time ago, huh.”

“Love in a time of sarsaparilla,” Mulder said dreamily. Scully shook her head and he caught her eye. “It wasn’t that long ago, Lil,“ he went on, and Scully felt the low bloom of feeling that always accompanied a look from her husband. For as long as she lived, she would always remember the first time she felt it; on the Tooms case, when he’d hooked his finger in her necklace and pulled.

“No, what I mean is… it was complicated,” Scully clarified.

Lily nodded and turned to her father. “You were married. Before Mom.”

“Yes,” Mulder said.

“Did you love her? Your ex wife?”

“I thought I did.”

“When did you figure out that you didn’t?” Lily asked.

“When I met your Mom,” Mulder said.

“So what you felt with Mom…”

“... was so much bigger than I was, that I couldn’t contain it.”

Scully felt her eyes well up. Mulder still sometimes had the ability to make her feel things all the way down to her toes.

Lily smiled, but looked pensive.

"But you thought you loved this other woman? I mean, enough to marry her?" she asked.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "What are you asking, Lil?"

Lily shook her head, her cheeks pink. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked out of the room.

“Oh boy,” said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Travis,” said Scully. “She’s trying to figure it all out.”

“Jesus, he didn’t propose, did he?” Mulder asked. The look on his face was enough to make her laugh, but she held it in.

Scully turned fully to Mulder and leaned back against the countertop, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked. Mulder nodded. “She’s trying to decide whether or when to...” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Mulder looked at her, still not understanding. Scully gave him the stare of the dotard husband.

“Mulder…” she said, glaring hard.

Realization dawned and Mulder swallowed. “I should have had that boy killed,” he said.

Scully turned back to the vegetables she’d been chopping. “Let’s refrain from wetwork while we’re on the lam.”

“I make no promises,” he said, and slid up behind her, stepping in close and putting his hands on her waist.  

“I had the guys check him out by way of Darlene,” Scully said. “He is who he says he is. And he seems like a decent kid. Let’s let her navigate this on her own, huh?” She felt his fingers squeeze and then they drifted down to rest on her hips.

“I don’t like it,” he mumbled, and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” she said. “But you do have to accept it, and trust that we raised her to make these decisions for herself.”  She remembered being nineteen and in college and in love for the first time. “You want to hear about Kevin McAvoy, my freshman year boyfriend?”

Mulder squeezed his fingers again and then started to turn her slowly toward him. She set down the knife on the counter and let him. His head was bent toward her and she felt his breath fan her face.

“No,” he said, leaning even more into her personal space.

“I was his Little Red Corvette,” she said playfully, tipping her head back in challenge. He smiled, but she saw something rough pass through his eyes. “He’d put on Prince and --”

Mulder leaned down and silenced her with a kiss.

XxXxXxXxXxX

In her room, Lily sat on the bed, the can of soda from the fridge sitting unopened on her bedside table. Condensation beaded on the side of it, sliding down silently to pool at the base, unnoticed.

Crusher liked to sleep on her pillow, and had left a black felted indent in the feathers, which Lily brushed away and fluffed. She looked about the room. Not much about it spoke of the young woman who slept there and had for months; no posters on the walls, no pennants hanging or pictures of friends. It was a sterile guest room decorated with the mute tones of an unmarried 60-something and lately it had been making her feel like she wasn't even herself.

She stood and walked to the desk, the one place she deposited her things. Her wallet, the phone Darlene had given her that she rarely used and usually kept switched off. Her purse was half hanging off -- likely knocked into such a position by a passing cat -- and when she righted it, she noticed the picture that sat under it. The photo of her father and an unfamiliar brunette, who's face conveyed confidence -- almost a smugness -- and a certain charm.

She stared at the picture. And she wondered.

XxX

October 20, 2018

Lily glanced over her shoulder when she sat, feeling as though she were doing something illegal, something fraught.

No one really used the computer labs anymore -- if you needed to, you could write an entire paper on your phone, though Lily found the practice ridiculous and immature. Nevertheless, there were one or two students sitting at the various desktops around the small library lab, and she checked to make sure no one was paying attention to what she was doing.

She tried to be careful. She had told Travis that she was hoping to log into the university's network to prep for some of the classes she’d be taking at UVA next semester and so she was using his password and login information. She'd checked to make sure there were no cameras on the area where she sat, and that her back was to the one aimed at the larger area.

With a bracing breath, she logged on.

It was surprising what you could find with a simple Google search, and the commonwealth of Virginia's vital records office would send you a copy of any marriage certificate for a fee of $45. Knowing better than to use a credit card, she'd opted for a more in depth search, and found what she was looking for in the Daily Press -- the local newspaper of record in Newport News, Virginia.

It was a wedding announcement, complete with two pictures -- one, the same picture she'd found in her parent's attic and the other of a similar style -- of Fox William Mulder and Lauren Edith Williams, married on August 17th, 1988. According to the article, Lauren had been a recent graduate of Georgetown University and had been employed at Schuster and McClure, a PR firm in the District of Columbia.

Lily looked at the new photograph on the screen before her. Her father looked so young. Only a few years older than herself. Lauren was pretty, had perfect posture, and was staring into the camera like a dare; her dress was all frills and white froth, the material of the dress ruched in large poofs at the shoulders, a crown of satin flowers around the lush brunette curls on her head. She looked like someone Lily wouldn't have dared talk to back in high school. She looked nothing like Lily's mother.

Lauren Edith Williams, she wrote down, and stared at the paper in front of her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 21, 2018

Lily was on the bus when she noticed him. It was his age that first drew her attention. Most everyone that rode this route (it went right into campus) was either a student or a professor, and something about him seemed the antithesis of scholarly. He had a sharp face, was dressed in loose clothing, a plain, black ball cap pulled low over his head. His knee bounced where he sat. She thought she could make out a tattoo curling onto the skin under the sleeve of his jacket. He could have been custodial staff for all she knew, but her parents had raised her to trust her instincts, and something inside of her pinged.

He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction, but she reached up and pulled the cord that requested a stop anyway, keeping him in her periphery when the bus rolled to the next stop. She was five blocks further away than she would have liked -- she was supposed to meet Travis just off campus for lunch. The man didn't move or rise from his seat. Nevertheless, she ducked out of the back door and onto the sidewalk, shouldering her purse and pretending to look at her phone. Only when the bus left with the man still on it would she exhale. The bus had just started to roll forward when it chirped to a stop and the front doors opened. The man in the cap trotted down the steps and onto the sidewalk, glancing briefly at her before turning and walking slowly west. Adrenaline awash in her bloodstream, she turned east.

The man had had a nondescript face. He was of average height and build, not someone you'd notice. She wracked her brain trying to remember when or if she'd seen him before, and had a hazy recollection of someone who might have been him: waiting outside of Travis's dorm when she'd come to visit him a couple days prior, or maybe even standing behind her in line at a coffee shop the day before. She should have been paying closer attention. Her parents had taught her to pay closer attention. Up until she'd done a search on her father and his ex-wife, she had. Lily silently cursed at herself.

She looked at her reflection in the shop windows along Grand River Avenue, trying to catch a glimpse behind her. She caught movement, but there were plenty of other people walking up and down the sidewalk. She needed a better look.

She swung up the stairs of the Student Union when she came to it a moment later, remembering walking in with her brother and dad only the month before, and felt the sharp pang of guilt.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped to retie her shoe, glancing back behind her as she did so. The man in the cap was there, and had paused a ways away, looking down at his phone. Lily finished fiddling with her shoe and casually walked to the door, holding it open for a girl who was coming out, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so. Through the large doorway was a wide set of stairs going both up and down. When the door closed behind her, she bolted down the stairs to her right. There were a number of study spaces and she could pass through each one fairly quickly -- the day was busy and there were students everywhere; if she was lucky she could get lost in the crowd.

She ducked through the main lounge and past the small coffee shop on the lower level, looking behind her. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean he still wasn't coming. Seeing the full racks of clothing in the Spirit Shop across the hallway, she went inside, bending down to pretend to look at a few items on the bottom shelf.

Peering through underneath the hanging shirts, she watched as the man in the black cap came down the hallway outside of the shop and paused, turning toward it. Her heart leapt to her throat. He did a slow turn and then turned to keep walking. She kept her head down.

From the corner of her eye she caught her own reflection in the mirror outside the tiny dressing room -- she was wearing a bright blue shirt and her hair -- as bright and reflective as a stop sign, and always a part of herself she was fond of -- would give her away.

She stood, scanning the hallway outside the shop, and then she hastily pulled a green knit cap off a nearby shelf and pulled the tag off, shoving it over her head and tucking her hair up under it as quickly as she could. She grabbed a large tee shirt off the rack nearest her and took it plus the hat's tag to the counter, pulling some cash that her parents always had her carry out and plunking it on the counter.

"I don't need a receipt, thanks," she told the young woman helping her, and turned away.

"But what about your change?" the girl called after her.

"Tip jar," she said, turning back and keeping her voice low.

Once outside the store, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and made her way for the lower level exit that emptied onto campus. Seeing no one behind her, she took the steps out as fast as they would carry her and ran.

XxX

Darlene narrowed her eyes at Lily, and opened the door. “Quickly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily said, as Darlene let her into the house, peering around the block. “I didn’t want to use the phone.”

“I get it,” Darlene replied as she ushered Lily into her kitchen, where Lily sank onto one of the stools that sat before the peninsula of the counter.

"You want a lemonade or something, kiddo?" Darlene asked, leaning forward against the counter herself and giving Lily an expectant look -- there was more to it than just polite hospitality.

"No, thanks," Lily said, feeling the weight of Darlene's gaze and her own guilt in equal measure.

"Did you do something stupid?" Darlene asked outright and Lily, taken aback, sat up straighter, but didn't answer, thus confirming Darlene's clear suspicion. "How bad?"

"I think they found us."

Darlene huffed a breath. "Elaborate," she said.

"I... I ran a search. A couple days ago, in the university library. I was careful, but maybe not careful enough."

"What did you search?"

"My dad's ex-wife."

Darlene gave a low whistle. "Kiddo," she said, a statement.

"I know."

"Have you considered just asking him about her?"

Lily hugged herself.

"I have. I did. But… I wanted to know. For me. I don't want his version of this woman. I wanted to see for myself who she was. Is."

Darlene moved to the window and peered out, lowering the blinds as she did so. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lily once again felt a pang of guilt. She looked down. "Not really."

Darlene moved around the counter to a sideboard table on the dining room side of the counter and began shuffling through a drawer.

"What makes you think they found you?" she asked.

"I think there's someone following me," Lily said, "I think maybe I’ve seen him a couple of times on campus, but I don’t know. I lost him and came here."

"Just one someone?"

Lily began to second guess herself.

"I think so?"

When Darlene straightened from the sideboard she was holding a pistol.

"Call your father right now, and tell him to get over here. Armed." Darlene's words were cold and calm. Lily's stomach dropped in her gut.

She reached for Darlene's phone, a relic from another time which hung on the wall, its cord coiled like a snake.

Darlene walked to the sliding glass door as she dialed the numbers, each tone sounding long and drawn out, Darlene pulled the long curtains closed with a snap.

"Dad?" Lily said, when Mulder answered.

"Hey Lil!" he sounded so relaxed, excited just to talk to her though he'd seen her that morning.

"Dad, I'm at Darlene's. She says to get over here. She said to bring your gun."

She heard his sharp inhale. “I’m coming,” he said, and then she heard a dial tone.

"Lily," said Darlene, walking over to her computer, which was booted up and sitting on her dining room table, cords snaking out of it and across the floor. She quickly typed hunt-and-peck with her right hand, the gun still clutched in her left. "I want you to go into the top right drawer in my dresser. In a small lockbox, code 9-10-9-3, you'll find an old Nokia phone. It should be fully charged. It’s untraceable. Do not turn it on. Take it. Put it somewhere safe -- your bra or your sock or underwear. Then get under my bed."

Lily walked to the hallway, her body on autopilot, her heart hammering and her blood roaring in her veins.

Darlene finished typing, clicked a few things with her mouse and then peeked an eye out the closed curtain toward the backyard, tapping the gun against the side of her thigh.

Pausing in the hallway, Lily turned back to Darlene.

"Is someone coming?" Lily asked.

"Kid," Darlene said, shooting her a look, "they're already here."

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #shits getting real for the mulder family #fanfic #XF #my fic

[helenalikesbtsnow]

The Ongoing Struggles of Being A Mall Gay (Part 1/3)

Read on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN or here on tumblr below the cut

Summary: Hoseok works at Build-A-Bear and Yoongi works at the Orange Julius that gives them discounts. Warning for gratuitous overuse of American mall culture.

***

Hoseok is leading around a dog on roller skates. Not a real dog, though that would be fun. They named the dog Clifford, though he is neither big nor red. Hoseok just looked at the dog one day and decided his name was Clifford.

Clifford has pink sparkly roller skates and he’s being led along on his pink sparkly leash by Hoseok who is having way too much fun with him. He’s tried to teach Clifford to roll over, but he’s filled with polyester stuffing and therefore is unable to understand even the most basic of commands. He’s absolutely killing it in the “sit!” game, but that’s the only thing that he’s mastered. You don’t even want to see the disappointment in everyone’s faces when they tell Clifford to fetch and he just sits there, dead in the eyes.  

The mall isn’t really busy enough at this hour to rationalize Hoseok playing around with Clifford, but it’s not for any passersby’s amusement. Hoseok is having a blast all by himself thank you very much.

After a few minutes longer than anyone would have expected, he goes to sit by the stuffer. Hoseok picks up a few pieces of fluff off the floor that someone didn’t sweep up, and Taehyung’s head practically pops up out of nowhere from behind the giant contraption.

“Did you notice the new guy?” Taehyung asks.

“Um, what?” Hoseok inquires. Last he checked he was the manager and new hires go through him before anyone else. He would’ve noticed a new a guy. He would’ve hired a new guy since Seokjin doesn’t like to do it.

“No, not here,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I’m talking over there.” He points over to the Orange Julius, their direct neighbors. Hoseok analyzes and tries to determine which face is new. There’s Namjoon making small talk with a customer and Jimin pretending two cups are his eyeballs. The usual.

The new face is immediately recognizable because of how uncomfortable he looks. He hasn’t quite perfected how to wear the hat in a way that doesn’t make him look like a robot. He’s also got his shirt tucked in, which is technically a part of the dress code, but Namjoon has never and will never enforce it, as is evident by the fact that Jimin’s shirt is both two sizes too large and hangs down to about his upper thigh. Now obviously Namjoon, ever the rule follower, has his own shirt tucked in, but this little duckling hasn’t learned the culture yet.

“Oh, he looks like a freshly birthed child,” Hoseok notes, with a shake of his head. They’re just a little bit too far away for him to make out features on the face, but you could tell from a mile away that he’s a teenager. There’s no question he’s younger than Hoseok.

“Should we mess with him?” Taehyung asks.

“We’ll see what Jimin says,” he shrugs. He doesn’t want to mess around with a newbie without verifying it with him first, because the last time they did it, they scared the guys so much that he quit. Apparently pretending to get a needle through your finger with the assistance of lots and lots of ketchup is a no-no. Namjoon didn’t talk to them for like three weeks. It made the carpool pretty weird, that’s for sure.

“Jin, do you know anything about the fresh meat?” Hoseok calls over. He says it just a little bit too loudly, because a customer who’s looking at the Choose Me wall looks up, alarmed. Maybe referring to a person as a meat sack isn’t the best thing to say in front of a customer. The glory of being a manager though means he can’t get fired by his boss.

“This is a Build-A-Bear, not a butcher,” Seokjin doesn’t even look up from the paper he’s reading.

“I meant at the Orange Julius.”

Jin looks up and across the hallway, spotting the man that Hoseok is referring to. “Oh him. It’s his first day. Joon said he comes to us by way of Applebee’s.”

“Wow, glamorous.”

“Do you think he could hook me up with discounted appetizers?” Taehyung says.

“We should probably know his name before you start making dinner reservations.”

The confused customer walks away to be replaced by a mother and her daughter who are very clearly on a mission. Since Hoseok is an expert in the customer service game, he welcomes them with a big smile and a wave. Everyone has a rough outline of a script that they use, but this obviously varies based on who walks by their store.

It’s not a real store with four walls and an entrance, it’s actually a kiosk, or what’s called a concourse. It’s probably the biggest kiosk you’ll ever see. The little cell phone repair kiosk a few paces down is only about three feet on any one side, whereas the Build-A-Bear is large enough that it would take you about a minute to walk around the whole thing. The concourse has an employee “room” that runs right through the middle of the store. It’s not a room, it’s just got a little swinging door which separates it from the shopping area. This section only has one entrance, near where Seokjin is standing. The store is set up very much shaped like a horseshoe.

On one side are all the bear skins, which is the technical term, and even after working here for almost ten years, Hoseok still hates it. On the other side are all the clothes, and of course there’s the stuffer on the short end.

Read on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

Hoseok has always been good around kids, that’s why he’s stayed for so long. His first job was actually at the Orange Julius a few meters away, but he could never stay there for that long, god bless Joon, though. In any case, whenever a kid walks “into” their store, he lights up and knows immediately how to talk to them.

This little girl, with her little mermaid T-shirt, seems like a pretty good candidate to show their new mermaid bear to, and he is right. She barely even has to make eye contact with the unstuffed bear before she looks to her mom with determination in her eyes.

“Is this the one?” he asks. It’s unconscious of him, but Hoseok gets lower to the ground whenever he talks to kids. He likes to be at eye level with them, it’s less intimidating. Hoseok does have one of the least intimidating faces of all time, but still.

She nods and Hoseok smiles, thinking fondly of how much he’ll spoil his own kid when he has one someday far off into the future. Got to get a boyfriend first.

He always has to look up at the parent like he’s asking for permission on behalf of their kid. The little girl’s mom is smiling, so he takes that a as a yes. Since it’s part of his job description, he leads them to the sound machine.

“When you’ve picked out any sounds you want, my good friend Taehyung over there will be able to bring your new friend to life,” he says. Absently, he organizes the bins so that all their eyes are facing up. When he first started, it was kind of creepy how all the animals stare at you, but he’s gotten used to it. Now, the more they stare at him, the stronger his temptation gets.

He doesn’t have an addiction to them, per se. He just has a lot of teddy bears. That’s okay. Lots of people collect things. He doesn’t have shame in that. He has to store some of them at his parents’ house because his apartment is too small, but that doesn’t mean he has a problem. He makes eye contact with a dinosaur and the two of them war with their eyes. Hoseok’s warm brown ones, and the dinosaur’s plastic green ones. He’s probably going to buy the dinosaur soon…

A few more customers come along and Hoseok helps them before gesturing over to Taehyung, who is designated stuffer for today. Hoseok’s favorite job hands down is stuffer, but he’s a good boss who will hand over the role every now and again.

After about an hour, they die down. It’s been about fifteen or so minutes since their last guest and Seokjin is talking about the squirrel in his attic again. Always the squirrel with this one.

“What if it lays eggs in your ceiling and then you start to run an entire squirrel condominium?” Taehyung asks.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin’s voice is way too loud when he responds. “Eggs, Tae? Eggs? Did you just ask me if the squirrel lays eggs?”

Taehyung realizes his error too late. “I didn’t mean eggs.”

“What did you mean Taehyung?”

“Oh forget it,” he says, shaking his head.

Seokjin calls across the hallway. “Joonie, Tae thinks squirrels lay eggs!”

“You what, Tae?” Namjoon responds. His voice is much quieter, because their stores are not that far away and there is no reason for Seokjin to be yelling other than to make sure everyone around them, or possibly in the whole mall, hears them.

“I’m going on my fifteen,” he says with a humph.

Read on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

“Would you do me a favor and stop at the Barnes and Noble to buy yourself a book about squirrels?” Seokjin asks him. Taehyung, because he’s a good employee, waits until he’s taken his apron off to flip Seokjin off. Hoseok watches the entire scene with fascination from behind the Dress Me wall.

Hoseok gives it another ten minutes, letting Seokjin taunt him even more with how cute and domestic his life with Namjoon is. When he and Namjoon first started working together about a decade ago, he had probably the biggest crush imaginable on him. They were both oily teenagers, but he was utterly infatuated. Seokjin didn’t come along until a year later when the Build-A-Bear was put in. Before that, Hoseok kind of assumed that eventually, he and Namjoon would end up with each other. Obviously, as soon as Namjoon first uttered a word to Seokjin, they were already in love. It didn’t take too terribly long for Hoseok to realize he never could feel the same way that Seokjin did about Namjoon. The crush didn’t melt away overnight, but he got over it.

Hoseok isn’t jealous. He’s not lonely. His roommate Jimin is the closest, friendliest guy in the world. He absolutely adores the guy. However, it would be nice to be married and have someone love him the way Namjoon loves Seokjin.

“Did you read the email from corporate?” Hoseok asks him absently.

“I try not to.”

“I don’t understand how you’re paid as much as me when you don’t do anything,” Hoseok sighs. That’s not true of course, Seokjin is very good at his job and he is great at the things he does. He’s good with guests, money, numbers, business-y things. He’s just really bad with listening to what he’s told, and those corporate emails are always about him doing what he’s told.

Hoseok checks his watch and looks around the hallway. There’s no way anyone is going to be coming by any time soon. Hoseok is the kind of manager that won’t get angry with any of his employees for playing on their phones, but he doesn’t want to set a bad example by doing that himself. Taehyung has been here for nearly four years now, but Hoseok still views him as an impressionable young child, because that’s what he was when Hoseok first hired him. That was so long ago, back when they assumed Taehyung was just going to be one of their temporary hires until he graduated college, but once he graduated, he just never left them, and Hoseok is very thankful. Seokjin promoted him to assistant manager a year ago so that they could have one more set of keyholders.

He catches Jimin’s eye, who waves him over like he has something to say. Hoseok walks across the hallway to him where they don’t have any customers either. Namjoon is off somewhere, probably in the backroom.

Hoseok looks at the new guy now that he’s a little closer. He’s got black hair and the palest skin. He’s absolutely decadent, Hoseok notes. He’s gorgeous in a soft way like a tiny little marshmallow. What do they put in the water at these goddamn Orange Julius’ to make everyone so pretty? He doesn’t have a name tag yet, which is unusual considering that Namjoon is the manager and he’s Namjoon. New Guy is standing and looking uncomfortable like all new employees at any job ever look. Hoseok thinks to say hi to him, but he wants to know if Jimin is plotting something before he does so.

“Did you do that thing I asked?” Jimin says in the type of whisper that is meant to be overheard. He winks right after saying it and that’s how Hoseok knows it’s for the new guy’s sake. He’s ready and gives a small nod to indicate to Jimin that he knows what to do.

“Your instructions weren’t clear. I wasn’t sure where you wanted it.”

“In the river, dumbass!” Jimin hisses.

“That’s what I thought,” Hoseok nods. He’s trying to determine what he put in the river. Was it a body? Drugs? Something else? “I weighed it down so no one will find it.”

“Good,” Jimin nods. Hoseok spares the briefest of glances over to the new guy but he is very intentionally looking at the jewelry store a little bit down the hallway. Oh yeah, he’s listening. They have to make it more grandiose than this though.

“I don’t get why you had to kill the guy anyway,” Hoseok mutters.

“He knew too much.”

“I just wish you had consulted me first.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision. I had to do what I had to do right then and there. I would do it again, Hoseok. I would do it again.”

At that, Namjoon comes out from the backroom. “Hoseok?” he asks. It’s not uncommon for someone from Build-A-Bear to be standing against the counter like this, but Namjoon gets very territorial whenever he makes a new hire. Their last hire just left for college, and he usually hung out with his school friends rather than his adoptive family, which is how Hoseok refers to himself and his coworkers. That kid is not particularly missed so much as there is an absence of a human.

“Hey Joon, how are you?” Hoseok says, pretending to be surprised by his entrance.

“What are you two… oh come on,” the look of annoyance on his face when he puts the pieces together could be put into a museum. “Again? Seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin plays innocent.

“Why are you always doing this to me?” he aims the question at God and then turns to his new employee, “Whatever they were just talking about, disregard it. They do this to everyone I hire; they’re just trying to mess with you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hoseok says. “I’m offended you would make such an accusation.”

“Just go away,” he says, shaking his head and making a shooing motion. He’s not ready to deal with both Jimin and Hoseok. The two of them have been roommates for just long enough that they have a mind meld that Namjoon doesn’t trust. It’s best to keep them separate at all times.

“Wow. Well you just lost yourself a paying customer.”

“Not cool of you, Joon,” Jimin shakes his head.

“I sign your paychecks.”

Jimin stands up straight dramatically and salutes, “yes sir!”

Hoseok laughs and returns to his actual job. Taehyung is back from break and he’s in the middle of helping two little girls pick out their new furry friend and he smiles fondly at them. Besides performing the motions, stuffing, ringing people up, the best thing about this job is just seeing how happy you make people. It’s the only job in retail where you get to make someone’s day one hundred percent of the time. It’s absolutely impossible to go to a Build-A-Bear Workshop and not leave with a smile on your face. It’s literally page one in the employee handbook. Make people smile, make their day.

Hoseok goes to hang out in the middle of the concourse with Seokjin who he now realizes was not actually reading a paper at all, he was just holding it up to hide his phone.

“You crafty son of a bitch.” He says it as quietly as possible because there are literal children only a little bit away.

Seokjin smirks. “You’re very gullible.” Seokjin isn’t usually one to be on his phone constantly while he’s at work, but the day has been unbelievably slow so far. Hoseok looks over his shoulder to see what he’s doing. There are very few secrets in this family. Mall family, that is. Hoseok knows what type of porn Jimin watches, though that’s less to do with them all knowing each other really well and more because he and Jimin’s rooms share a wall.

Let the record show that Seokjin is taking a quiz to determine what type of rock he is. Hoseok wouldn’t need a quiz to tell you that Seokjin is a rhyolite.

Hoseok grabs his phone from his hand and gives Seokjin an annoyed glare. “Will you go clean up after those two kids? They messed through almost every bin.”

“Ugh, fine,” he’s easy to push over because they both know he hasn’t done anything today.

“Taehyung,” he says leaning over the wall to look at Taehyung who is preparing to help stuff a very beautiful unicorn and bunny.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be interested in going home an hour early? It’s so slow.”

Read on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

He nods vigorously and Hoseok rolls his eyes when he lets him go back to work. Taehyung is scheduled for another two and a half hours, but it’s a Wednesday and they haven’t even broken their midday goal yet and it’s three hours past when they were supposed to.

“I’m sending Tae home a little early,” Hoseok calls over to Seokjin.

“Fine with me,” he says. “We’re almost out of Pikachus.”

Hoseok frowns. Pikachu is one of the animals that he hates to run low on, because it’s so popular. Customers rarely yell at you at a store like this one, but when they do, it’s usually because you’re out of a Pokémon. One time a soccer mom made Taehyung cry when they didn’t have any Piplups and it’s the closest Hoseok has ever come to hitting a person. No one is allowed to be rude to his children and Taehyung is very much one of his children.

“I’ll run to the stock room to see if there’s any more,” he sighs. He walks out of the store and across the hallway, enjoying the sound his keys make when they jingle in his hands. Since they’re in a concourse, their stockroom is out the service door in the somewhat creepy mall employee hallway. It’s supposed to only be for people who work at the mall, but the door is always unlocked and lately, customers have started to learn that. It’s not haunted, but it’s also not not haunted.

Unfortunately, they do not have any more Pikachus and it’s not the kind of thing they can just order more of. Either they get more Pikachus in their next truck or they don’t. It’s not up to them what comes and what doesn’t. He notes that there is a substantial amount of fluff that was left on the ground, Taehyung the obvious culprit. Hoseok loves him, dearly and truly, but Taehyung hates sweeping with a passion.

He returns to the mall to see their store has once again cleared out, but a familiar darkly dressed figure is now approaching. “Well if it isn’t the traitor himself,” he says. As per usual, Jungkook is dressed in all black. He’s wearing his signature stomping shoes today. He’s light on his feet, which is good, because if he wasn’t, those boots would intimidate Hoseok into hibernation.

“I’m not a traitor, I’m a capitalist.”

“Sounds like something a traitor would say,” Hoseok says.

Jungkook throws up his arms in a shrug before he takes a seat at the table just outside the technical boundary of their concourse.

“When are you going to come back to me?” Hoseok asks. Hoseok is just tall enough to lean over to look inside the concourse where he reaches for something.

“As soon as you’re able to give me a 40% discount to Hot Topic,” Jungkook responds, pulling out his phone, because there is no other purpose to having a break then to check all the text messages that you haven’t received in the last three hours because all of your friends work at the same mall and have the same hours as you do.

“I still have your apron for whenever you come back,” Hoseok declares once he finds it. They put the apron on a How to Train Your Dragon Toothless that Jungkook himself stuffed, who, being a dark black dragon, is an adequate replacement for their lost comrade. Toothless goes by several different names now that Jungkook works at Hot Topic. Jungkook 2, Emo Boy, Judas.

Hoseok gives him his world renown, absolutely heartbreaking pout while holding up Jungkook 2. He gets all up in Jungkook’s personal space and tries to win his heart through his beautiful, devastating face.

“Not gonna work, Seok.”

“I’ll win you yet! Just you wait, Jeon Jungkook!”

Jungkook receives a message in the Group Chat, which he opens to see that it’s a picture of himself taken maybe thirty seconds ago, from Seokjin. The caption just says, “Bitch: sighted.”

Across the hall, Jimin, who is most certainly not allowed to have his phone on him laughs. He looks over and gives Jungkook a bright wave. It’s very difficult for Jimin to pretend to be angry when his personality is like a Peaches and Cream smoothie, which is coincidentally his favorite Orange Julius beverage.

“You’re all so very petty,” Jungkook sighs, holding up the message for Hoseok to see, though it’s all in good fun. He’s as much a part of their family as anyone else, even if he did abandon them viciously for Hot Topic.

“Put your phone away Mr. Kim,” Hoseok calls over.

“I don’t have my phone,” Taehyung says.

“No, the other one.”

“Hoseok, we’re co-managers. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Seokjin is just in one of those funks. It happens on slow days like these. It’s not just because the store isn’t making as much money as their target, it’s also just very deflating to not be doing anything.

“We just miss you Jungkook,” Hoseok sighs. It’s been nearly a month since he left, but it doesn’t feel like he’s gone anywhere. His store is just down the hall. Far enough that they can’t shout to him, but close enough that if anyone gets pissed off with anyone else, they can go vent about it to Jungkook on their break. This is infrequent but Jimin occasionally has a short temper when it comes to Taehyung. Probably because they’ve been secretly fucking each other for like a year now, though Hoseok isn’t supposed to know that.

“It offends me deeply that you care more about discounted jewelry than you do about me,” Hoseok says. To be fair, Jungkook has been threatening to get a sleeve tattoo for some time now and that’s not technically allowed under store policy.

“Kids just have… too much snot,” Jungkook shakes his head. “They’re so full of snot. Just right out their nose onto their bears and then it gets on me, and I just… goths don’t have as much snot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok shakes his head. That’s the Jungkook he knows and loves.

“New guy!” Taehyung calls over, as the new guy clocks out for the day. The guy doesn’t even realize that Taehyung is talking to him because he looks like he’s about to walk in the opposite direction. “New Orange Julius guy!” Taehyung yells louder this time, and that gets his attention. It’s less vague, there’s only one person who could be given that superlative. He turns around, looking for the source of the voice, and sees Taehyung waving him over. He points to himself as if he’s asking whether Taehyung is talking to him, but who else could he be talking to. “Yes you.”

“Don’t scare him,” Hoseok says.

“Didn’t you and Jimin try to convince him you killed someone?” Taehyung asks.

“Ah, Namjoon ruined it.”

The new guy looks very awkward as he approaches, but Hoseok tries to be as welcoming as he can be, which is something he’s gotten to be very good at given the nature of his job.

“Hey there,” Hoseok says, waving at him. “How was your first day?”

“Um, good,” he says and Hoseok is a little caught off guard by his voice. It’s not that his voice is deep, but it’s deeper than you would expect when you look at his face. His voice sounds uncomfortable. Hoseok doesn’t want to scare the guy too much, even if it is kind of fun.

“I’m sorry me and Jimin messed with you earlier,” Hoseok says. “It’s something we’ve been doing for years. I didn’t actually hide a body.”

“Yeah, uh, I figured that out,” he says. Oh boy, he’s the cute kind of awkward that makes Hoseok’s heart stutter.

“We didn’t introduce ourselves!” Hoseok realizes. “I’m Hoseok, this here is Taehyung, and that guy over there is banging your boss.”

“We’re married! Stop telling people we’re banging. You came to the wedding,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, but then waves at the new guy. “I’m Seokjin.”

“He’s banging your boss,” Hoseok whispers.

“At least I can get some,” Seokjin says. Taehyung makes an “oooh” sound, because Hoseok walked right into that one.

“What’s your name?” Hoseok asks him, choosing to ignore both of the people around him.

“I’m Yoongi,” he replies. Hoseok smiles, deciding he likes that name. It’s sweet, just like Yoongi’s face.

“Nice to meet you Yoongi. In case Jimin didn’t give you the low down yet, we at Build-A-Bear and at Orange Julius are a family. You’re part of the family now. If you didn’t read the fine print when you got hired, you won’t have been made aware that you are now loved and respected. That’s just something you’re going to have to accept.”

“Jin is our mom,” Taehyung adds.

“I’m not your mom.”

“Namjoon is our dad.”

“That part is true,” Seokjin says.

“…Okay?”

Hoseok almost puts an arm on his shoulder, because that’s what he would do if Yoongi was anyone else, but he literally just met this guy and a few hours ago he had pretended he killed someone in front of him. Give it a little time before you get too familiar with him.

“I just mean that we look out for each other, that’s all. If you ever need anything at all, one of us will be able to help you out. We’re not just coworkers, we’re best friends.”

“Jeez, Seok, you make it sound like a cult,” Seokjin says.

“Why do you have to go around and ruin a bonding moment like that, man?” Hoseok says. “Well anyway, I’ll let you get on your way, nothing like going home after work.”

“Especially when you have someone at home who loves you,” Seokjin says. He’s laying it on pretty heavy today, but in all fairness, Hoseok has been single for a really, really long time.

“We’ve got to add you to the group chat!” Taehyung says, and Hoseok can’t believe he almost forgot.

“Of course! How could I forget? Is that cool with you, Yoongi?”

Yoongi takes a second but then nods. Hoseok is trying not to throw his personality at him so fast, but it’s hard when his personality is big. He takes up a lot of space just being himself. Yoongi seems like the kind of guy who would apologize for using too much space on a couch.

“Great,” he says and then hands his phone over to Yoongi. “Put your number in there and then I’ll make sure everyone sends you their name so that you can add them to your contacts. There’s only six of us, but if we ever get to be too annoying, just mute it and text us individually. The only person who will probably annoy you, though, is me. I post pictures of every dog I see on the street.”

“I enjoy them,” Taehyung nods. Taehyung often names the dogs that Hoseok takes pictures of. Jimin rates them. No dog has ever ranked lower than a ten out of ten, and for the longest time, Hoseok assumed Jimin was just an avid fan of the WeRateDogs twitter, but as it turns out, he had never heard of it. He just really loves dogs.

Yoongi tries to hide it, but Hoseok sees him smile just a little bit, and he’s proud of himself. Maybe Daily Dog Digest – which is what he calls his dog spotting – will bring that smile onto Yoongi’s face more frequently.

Hoseok decides very quickly that Yoongi is beautiful, which is going to get annoying considering he’s older than the guy and he doesn’t want to be creepy about it. Yoongi is probably over 18, but by how much is uncertain. He doesn’t ask him his age because that’s weird, but as Yoongi turns to leave, that small smile lingers in his brain. He is a heartbreaker, that one.

They watch Yoongi leave; Seokjin doesn’t look up because he doesn’t care, and he’s married so he wouldn’t look at him anyway.

“He’s gorgeous,” Taehyung says, stating exactly what Hoseok is thinking.

“I know, right?” he shakes his head. “He’s almost prettier than you Tae.”

“No such thing,” he shakes his head. “I’m definitely the prettiest, no one can even compare.”

As a manager, Hoseok works nearly every day of the week. If it were any other job, he’d despise that fact, but he gets to come into work every day, hang out with all of his best friends, interact with kids, make peoples days… really it’s hard to complain, because he’s been making a lot of money. To put into perspective how many hours he puts in, Hoseok has already managed to pay off his student loans and his car payments, and he’s barely in the latter half of his twenties. That just seems… unheard of.

He still lives with a roommate and the reason is twofold. He’s never lived on his own before because he’s afraid to and what better way to avoid being out on his own than to live with his very best friend in the entire world? He really loves and adores Jimin with all of his heart. They get along as well as two people can possibly get along. The second reason is because he wants to have a life someday. Maybe travel, maybe buy a house, maybe buy a drumkit. To whatever end, he wants to save his money in order to have those things, and having a roommate means that he can continue to save up.

He technically makes enough to live on his own, because they very much do not live in a big city, so rent prices are not terrible. Taehyung and Jungkook are constantly in his apartment when they’re not at work because Hoseok is a good cook and neither of them know how to use a toaster.

He tries not to sound too interested, but in the evenings when he and Jimin share dinner, he tries to see if there’s anything to learn about the new guy. Jimin knows as little about him as Hoseok does. His name is Yoongi, he has black hair, brown eyes, squishy cheeks. Jimin describes him as being very quiet, very soft spoken. Sexually ambiguous but probably straight. The guy is younger than Hoseok, far too young for him, so he really wishes he didn’t care to the extent that he does.

New Guy hasn’t contributed anything to the group chat yet, but he hasn’t removed himself from it altogether, which seems to be a good sign. The only thing he’s texted was the initial “hi, this is Yoongi” that he sent on day one. Whether he likes or dislikes Daily Dog Digest is yet to be determined.  

Hoseok works a few more shifts before he finally sees Yoongi again. Hoseok has an opening shift, so he’s too busy uncovering the concourse to see Yoongi actually come in for the day. He only notices him once he hears a blender start running. Hoseok turns to look over at them. Unsurprisingly, they don’t actually have a customer yet, it’s just that Jimin always starts his day out with a smoothie whenever he works a morning shift. Morning is a bit of a misnomer though since they open at 11:00.

Hoseok smiles. He gives a nod to one of his high school employees to continue setting the store up as he walks over to greet Yoongi.

“Good morning guys,” he says, smiling brightly. Yoongi looks up at him like a scared mouse but gives a small smile anyway. Hoseok forgot how pretty he is in the days since he last saw him. No one should have the right to be that cute.

“Morning!” Jimin shouts. He pours his peach smoothie into a cup and smiles at Hoseok like they didn’t just see each other an hour ago. Jimin has a short shift and then has to go to his real job, otherwise they would have carpooled.

“How are you, Yoongi?” he asks. He looks confused by Hoseok addressing him directly.

“Um, good,” Yoongi says. He’s the type to bite his lip. It’s quite sweet, actually.

“Great! It’s been a while since I last saw you. You like it here? Is Namjoon treating you right?”

Namjoon peers over at him from the register. Namjoon has never spoken a bad word about anyone ever in his entire life. He has had asshole customers yell at him and still remained as composed and perfect as he always is. Hoseok had an all-consuming, bone breaking crush on Namjoon for at least a year after meeting him, so his opinion is rose-colored. In any case, there’s no way in hell that Yoongi could possibly have any qualms with him.

“He’s very nice,” Yoongi says. His responses are short, not because he’s rude, but because he doesn’t say more than he needs to, which is basically what Jimin had described.

Read on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

“If you ever have any problems with him just take it up with me and I’ll kick him in the ass for you. He owes me more than a few favors.”

Namjoon just rolls his eyes. Jimin is giggling, standing between the scene. He’s just sipping his smoothie like a child watching his parents fighting.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, he doesn’t even attempt to make eye contact with Hoseok, and it is very intentional.

“My name is Hoseok, in case you forgot,” he says.

“I remember, Hoseok,” Yoongi says, and his ears turn red but it’s so subtle that Hoseok doesn’t actually notice it.

Hoseok doesn’t meant to lick his lips. Yoongi is still not attempting to look at anything other than the counter so Hoseok doesn’t try to capture his eyes any longer. He just looks at him for longer than he probably should. He wonders why Yoongi doesn’t look back. He’s a soft-spoken kind of a guy, it’s possible that he’s just shy. Hoseok barely knows him at all, but he seems the type who takes a while to unfreeze around new people.

“Hoseok, your job?” Namjoon reminds him and he suddenly remembers that he is on the clock right now.

“Right! Well, do me a favor Yoongi and stop by the workshop when your shift ends, okay?” He smiles and Yoongi looks up at him and the eye contact that they have lasts for only about a second but it’s very heavy. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but he revaluates and decides not to.

Hoseok turns on his heels and sees his high schooler folding up the tarps they use to cover the store. The two of them finish the task with Hoseok only turning to look at Yoongi a few times.

For whatever unholy reason, they’re frighteningly busy this Thursday. There’s no reason for it, the density in traffic for a retail store is one of life’s greatest mysteries. It could be that passersby see Hoseok’s wonderful face and decide to approach in order to get a better look. He is annoyed with how understaffed he is today, Seokjin makes the schedules usually, but there’s really no reason for why he would staff three people in the morning for a Thursday in the middle of summer, so it’s not his fault.

He doesn’t get another employee in until 1:00, and by then, the line for the stuffer is already six different groups, most of whom have more than one furry friend each. He was supposed to take his lunch once Taehyung clocked in, but there’s no way he’ll be able to sneak away until they’ve gotten through the line. He just sighs and powers through it.

About an hour later, Hoseok is finally able to take his break. He goes into the middle of the concourse and then lies on the floor and makes a groaning sound. He stays there for about five minutes, trying to cool down. When he decides he’s gotten his bearings, he stands back up, pulls off his apron and waves bye to Taehyung and the high schooler. He gets a whole twenty-five minutes of peace away from the store. Knowing his luck, there won’t be a single customer while he’s gone, but after that, the entire population of Bolivia will want to make a bear. He can’t wait until Seokjin gets into work later because his feet could honestly fall off at any minute.

He glances over at Orange Julius to see that they’re extremely busy too. Had he not noticed before how much shorter than Namjoon Yoongi is? He’s so little. Jimin must have already left, but Yoongi honestly can’t be much bigger than him, if he is at all. It’s adorable. What a cutie. Then he makes his way to Hot Topic to bother Jungkook.

Jungkook is the store greeter today, so he sees him right as he approaches. He waves at him, and Jungkook stares back with blank eyes. The store is as dark and cramped as every other Hot Topic in the world, and apparently, it’s a truck day so there are more staff than usual who are all pushing stock. Yet, for some unsaintly reason, they’re not busy at all, except for the two alternative girls who Hoseok just stuffed an Eevee and a Pikachu for ten minutes ago.  

“You can only bother him if you buy something,” Jungkook’s manager says, and he gives her a thumbs up. He can always do with more jewelry. Jungkook’s nails are painted today, and based on how shoddy the work is, he did it himself. He looks like a full course meal, but he’s Jungkook so that’s to be expected.

Jungkook looks confused at Hoseok’s disheveled appearance, because isn’t it a Thursday? Why does he look like he’s just fought a war on a goddamn Thursday?  “How bad is it over there?”

“It was a nightmare. I don’t know why. People getting back their tax refunds maybe? I thought I was going to die.”

“Sorry, dude. Tae working?” he asks, and Hoseok is slightly offended, because Jungkook doesn’t need to be asking about Taehyung when it’s Hoseok standing in front of him. He’s the one visiting Jungkook, not Taehyung.

“I fired him.”

“That’s a shame,” Jungkook sighs. “Now I can never return.”

“I’ll only rehire him if you come back too,” he says with an award-winning smile.

“Guess Tae will just have to find another job… Orange Julius will be hiring soon if you guys scare the shit out of the new guy like you did that one time.”

“Ah, he seems alright,” Hoseok says. “He hasn’t talked to us in the Group Chat yet, which I’m trying not to be offended by. He’s just a baby.” Jungkook is also a baby, to Hoseok at least. He met the kid when he was literally a sophomore in high school. He met Jungkook before he even met Jimin. Jungkook used to be shorter than him. Now, even without his stomping boots, he’s taller. Hoseok is starting to feel his years slip past too quickly. How can Jungkook have gotten so big?

“He’s quiet,” Jungkook nods. “But so was I when we first met; we just gotta soften him up a little bit. Maybe go out for drinks sometime.” Hoseok is still unable to comprehend that Jungkook is old enough to drink alcohol. That doesn’t even seem real. Jungkook will always be one of his teenage hires, he’s just one of the ones that never left him. Until a month ago. Ugh, traitor.

“I’m going to have him make his initiation bear later,” Hoseok says, getting excited thinking about it. He loves making new friends, it’s one of his favorite things in the world to do, and it’s so easy to talk to people at his job. Kids are easy, they’ll love anyone who makes a teddy bear for them. Adults are a lot of fun, because they think the heart ceremony is ridiculous, but you can almost always convince them to do it anyway. Yoongi should be a treat later. Hopefully he’ll manage to pull a little bit more of his personality out of that way too pretty shell.

“Do you think he’ll stick?” Jungkook asks. They’ve had a lot of difficulty keeping anyone in their family as of late. Taehyung was actually the last recruit and that was something like four years ago.

“I hope so,” Hoseok shrugs.

“You like him?” Jungkook says, looking maybe a little bit too deeply into him. Jungkook is a bit of a mind reader, and it has always been a bit frightening to Hoseok.

“I just think he’s a nice view from the store, that’s all.”

“Jimin is across the hall from you,” Jungkook says. He’d mention Namjoon too if he wasn’t married, because Namjoon is definitely something to look at.

“You’re horny for everyone, Jungkook,” Hoseok shakes his head. Jungkook is an enigma, hard to tell who he’s attracted to and who he isn’t. All that’s certain is that he is easily impressed.

Jungkook’s boss gives Hoseok a glare. They’re not enemies, but she did steal Jungkook from him, so they’re certainly not friends. He wonders what would happen if he ran away without buying something after he promised he would. She knows where he works, so he’d get found out. If there’s any one in a mall that knows how to contact a bounty hunter, it’s a Hot Topic employee. And maybe those bitches down at Bath & Body Works; he’s never trusted them. They have blue aprons just like Hoseok’s, and that seems far too coincidental to be a coincidence.

“Pick out something gay for me, won’t you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook nods, and immediately goes to the jewelry section. It takes him no more than a few seconds to throw a rainbow beaded bracelet at him. It’s overpriced because they work in a mall and also capitalism, but Hoseok goes to the checkout anyway. Jungkook’s boss doesn’t give him a discount. Most stores in this mall will give mall employees a 10%, but not Hot Topic. That’s why it was so easy for her to steal Jungkook from him. Jungkook always found a way to make a blue apron look slightly goth, and that has always been impressive.

Before he left, Jungkook had been threatening to get tattoos on his hands so that he couldn’t work at Build-A-Bear anymore. Hoseok rolled his eyes because he would’ve let Jungkook work there anyway, even if it is against company policy. He let Taehyung dye his hair blue that one time, he just didn’t schedule Taehyung whenever their district manager dropped by. Jungkook could do almost anything to his appearance and Hoseok would still hire him back.

“Gay enough?” he asks.

“Nothing will ever be gay enough for me, Jungkookie,” he smiles sweetly.

***

“Hi Yoongi!” Hoseok waves him over excitedly when he sees Yoongi walking out from behind his prison-like counter. He’s got a backpack over one shoulder, which makes Hoseok feel slightly awful. For him to be using a backpack means he is definitely too young for Hoseok to have attraction towards.

“Hi, Hoseok,” he says, and for some reason, when Yoongi stops in front of him, he seems warmer than usual. Maybe Hoseok’s sunshine is starting to rub off on him, or maybe Namjoon is breaking him down just a little bit. In a good way. You need to be a little bit weathered in order to fit in around here.

“Are you tired? It’s been a train wreck around here!”

“Yeah,” he nods. Seokjin is talking with a few customers, a family by the looks of it, at the front of the workshop, but he’ll be coming around soon to the stuffer, so Hoseok just steals Yoongi away to hang out by the register.

“I know how tough it is to start a new job when everyone is already friends with each other,” Hoseok says. “It’s awful. It’s so hard to break through. We’re all really close, and that’s why I don’t want you to feel left out. But if my personality is ever too much, just tell me. I know I’m a bit much.”

Yoongi blushes, but again, Hoseok doesn’t notice it. “It’s fine, I appreciate it. I’m just…”

“New jobs are hard,” Hoseok says when Yoongi drifts off. “But if you ever need any help, literally come to anyone. I happen to know quite a bit about Orange Julius myself.” He did work there for like two years, but that was so long ago. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t unofficially looked after the place a few times.

Taehyung pops up from behind the concourse. He went on his break a little while ago, and Hoseok just assumed he went somewhere, but apparently, he was just sitting on the floor out of view.

“Yoongi!” He says, excitedly. “How are you?” Taehyung has the personality of a puppy. In every way, he was supposed to be a dog, but someone flipped the wrong switch and he ended up as a person. He’s a very special person who Hoseok would do anything for.

“Good,” he says, and apparently the increased quantity of people shrinks him up a little bit. His shoulders get a little less slack once there are two people looking at him instead of just one.

“You like your new job? Is Jimin alright?”

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“Jimin is very nice, yes,” Yoongi says.

“Cool! Do you want to come get dinner with us some time? And by dinner, I mean the Panda Express at the food court. I’m a bit of an addict.”

“Um, sure,” Yoongi says nodding, and a soft smile appears on his sweet little face.

“Wonderful. I can’t promise when… we all tend to work the same hours, hard to get a break at the same time, but Hoseok will figure it out, won’t you, Hoseokie?”

“That’s a Jin question. I abhor scheduling.” Taehyung looks over at Seokjin who has migrated to the stuffer and is about to stuff the family’s chosen friends. It’s always alarming to Hoseok how kind and charming Seokjin is when he’s with guests as opposed to the snarky guy he knows. By all accounts, Seokjin is the nicest, kindest, and most wonderful person on the planet, but he’ll call you a motherfucker if you blink too hard in his direction.

Taehyung sighs. “Do you have anywhere to be? You should hang out for a little while, if you can.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m off for the rest of the day.”

“Great,” Hoseok interjects. “There’s something you’ve still got to do.”

“What is that?” he looks wary.

“You, Yoongi, get to make an initiation bear,” Hoseok says, brightly. “I’m buying. As long as you name him Hoseok. If his name isn’t Hoseok I won’t let you make one.”

Taehyung smiles, “I have three Hoseoks at home.”

“You only have to name the first one Hoseok, I really don’t know why you kept doing that.”

“It’s fun,” Taehyung shrugs and takes a sip of his Orange Julius sponsored water. Taehyung is a serial forgetter of water bottles so at this point they usually put his water on the counter as soon as they see him clock in. Jungkook has recently become very save the planet-y so he’s been reprimanding Taehyung for how much he uses non-reusable cups.

Yoongi takes a second to find his voice and then stutters out, “You don’t have to do that for me-”

“Nonsense!” Hoseok says. “Everyone gets a bear, that’s just how it works. Or not a bear. You don’t have to pick a bear, we’ve got dogs, unicorns, bunnies. Pick whatever you want, but their name has to be Hoseok.”

“I have a very beautiful dinosaur at home named Hoseok,” Taehyung adds. “And a dog. And a monster.”

“I don’t appreciate the dog being named after me. I’ve never licked a toilet bowl in my life.”

“You’re actually serious?” Yoongi says, interrupting the back and forth that he and Taehyung could probably have for hours. Taehyung brings out sides of people that they never knew they had, it’s just the kind of person he is. He’ll get you thinking about the meaning of life, but he’ll do it in a stupid way by asking you what the shelf life is of your average wool sock. Wool socks last longer than cotton socks, but that leads into a whole philosophy majors worth of follow up questions. Taehyung doesn’t even pose difficult questions, that’s just what being around him is like. His brain is a lot wider from knowing Taehyung.

“Absolutely!” Hoseok says. “Have you ever built a bear before?” Yoongi shakes his head shyly and Hoseok gets the brightest smile on his face. “Perfect! My favorite type of guest! So, the first thing you need to do is pick out a friend. But you have to smile while you’re doing it, or else Taehyung doesn’t get to eat dinner.”

“I need dinner, Yoongi. Please smile.”

Yoongi smiles. He would have suppressed it if not for the fact that Hoseok has the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. That face could cheer anyone up. Seeing Yoongi’s tiny smile makes Hoseok glow. What a cute little thing, holy shit.

“You should get a horse,” Seokjin says, peaking over. “Hoseok hates it when we call him a horse.”

Hoseok gives him a death glare, and Yoongi just looks at the bins below him trying to determine the best Hoseok there is. There are many great options. There’s many rainbow or pastel colored bears which give off some serious Hoseok energy. There’s also a pink bunny which is one of Hoseok’s favorites that he recommends to half of their guests. Also, there’s a shark.

Yoongi looks carefully, analyzing everything in front of him. He’s never done anything like this before but the idea of it is fun. He wishes he could go back into his past and come here as a kid. He would’ve tripped over his own feet to have made his own bear.

Hoseok watches Yoongi look at his options with total fascination. He’s literally gorgeous. The profile of his face could make anyone swoon. He tells himself to force those thoughts away because Yoongi is too young for him. Not so young that Hoseok is a creep, but too young that he can’t think about dating him. He’s also probably straight because contrary to Hoseok’s friend circle, most people are straight.

Yoongi ends up picking one of the more classic bears. It’s a basic brown bear, some of the softest fur out of all the ones on offer, but it’s also on the cheaper end of the spectrum.

“You don’t have to pick one of the cheaper ones just because I’m buying,” he says. He’s a very honest person, Hoseok could easily just give a bear away for free, but crazily enough, he actually respects the company that he works for. Obviously, he’ll be using his employee discount on it, but he’ll still pay from his own wallet.

“I like this one,” Yoongi says firmly. “The fur kind of matches your hair color.” He blushes right after saying it, but Hoseok doesn’t notice because he takes a strand of his hair in his fingers and tries to look at it to determine if Yoongi is right.

When he determines that his hair does indeed match, he smiles and looks at him. “You can go absolutely wild with the other stuff. Get the most expensive sound, fill it with scents, buy a tiara. Literally, go crazy.”

Yoongi smiles. The thought of Hoseok in a tiara makes him feel a way he doesn’t think he should be feeling. He looks at the unstuffed bear in his hands and tries to determine whether a tiara would suit him.

“Do you want to put any sounds in it?” Hoseok asks, gesturing to the sound station. “You can get the Star Wars theme in there. I think that’s a pretty baller choice since his name is Hoseok. I like Star Wars a lot, so I’m sure little Hoseok will like it too.”

“Is that what you want?” Yoongi asks, looking genuinely interested in Hoseok’s opinion.

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what you want. I’m just your tour guide here, all I’ll do is make suggestions,” he says. He tilts his head, undeniably intrigued by Yoongi. He wonders what his personality is like when he’s not nervous and dazed. It’s hard to get a read on him. Hoseok considers himself to be extremely empathetic, so sometimes he’ll detect things about a person without them showing it. It makes his job a little easier. It’s impossible to tell with Yoongi, though, because he’s dressed in a uniform rather than anything that could give him a sign. He also avoids making eye contact, which is precious, but it does little for Hoseok to learn anything about him.

“Okay, Star Wars then,” Yoongi says. Hoseok helps him look through the few different options, and they settle on the Imperial March, which makes Yoongi’s face get all squishy with a little smile. Hoseok adores it. He wants to pat Yoongi on the head and read him a bedtime story.

“I love when people get Star Wars,” he says fondly. “Nothing against Frozen, but Star Wars is classic.”

Yoongi nods and allows Hoseok to lead him to the stuffer. “Okay, Yoongi, this is the best part. This is where we give your bear life.” Yoongi can’t stop himself from blushing, because both Taehyung and Seokjin are watching him now with interest.

Yoongi feels a little bit like a zoo animal. Everyone is trying to learn things about him, but he’s the kind of person who is very contained when he meets new people. It’s weird walking into a circle of people who already know each other so well. It’s very intimidating, like Hoseok had said.

Then again, they’re all very open and kind to him, Hoseok especially. Yoongi is not an idiot, he knows that everyone around him is insanely attractive. Namjoon is too pretty, but he’s married so Yoongi doesn’t salivate at the mouth whenever he’s near. Jimin is an easy pretty, and from some source he was told that Jimin is decently famous on Instagram for posting dance videos. And of course, there’s Hoseok who has the brightest energy about him. Yoongi doesn’t believe in auras but if he did, Hoseok’s would be bright pink. Yoongi is going to inevitably fall for one of them, and the way that Hoseok looks at him makes him believe he’s already figured out who.

Hoseok places him in front of the stuffer and he’s presented with a pedal. It feels very foreign to him, looking at the limp teddy bear which Hoseok is about to stuff? Apparently? With a giant machine? That spins around and looks a bit like cotton candy? The concept is foreign, because there wasn’t a Build-A-Bear where he grew up. All he knows about the place is what he watches from behind his counter a few yards away.

The sound that the machine makes startles him, even though he’s heard it a dozen times just today. It’s a lot louder when you’re right next to it. Hoseok looks like an expert, not that he’s been spying on him the entire time while he’s at work, but it is hard not to let your eyes wander over to the giant blue store in the middle of the hallway. It’s even harder to avoid looking at the pretty guy who has a way with kids and has a face like a sunrise.

His eyes just gravitate towards Hoseok when he talks to customers, laughs with them, talks to them like he’s known them all his life. He seems like he’d be easy to talk to, because no one else has any trouble with it, but Yoongi is a hopeless gay who gets tongue tied around pretty boys.

“Alright,” Hoseok says, turning off the machine. Yoongi takes his foot off the pedal, though the machine has stopped so it’s not like it does a whole lot. “I’ll have you give little Hoseok a hug test to make sure he feels right.” Taehyung comes out of nowhere to hug Hoseok from behind his chair and he just sighs. “I was referring to the other Hoseok, but I appreciate it, Tae.”

“You feel just right,” Taehyung says. Hoseok pats his hand as he tries to shrug him off.

“Feel good?” Hoseok asks, looking to Yoongi though Taehyung has not let go of him. Yoongi nods. This is such a weird group of people, but he kind of likes them already. Especially Hoseok.

“Okay, now comes the actual best part,” Hoseok says, and he pulls a small fabric heart out of a bin right beside his machine. Taehyung lets go of him at this point, only to stand a few feet away to watch. Hoseok always does the best heart ceremonies, which doesn’t seem fair, because half of the time Taehyung just copies everything he does, but Hoseok makes it look so easy and natural. He really was made for this job.

Hoseok places the heart into Yoongi’s hand, and their fingers touch and it makes the real heart inside of Yoongi’s chest stutter just a little bit. He really is just so weak around cute boys, so it’s been a difficult job to transition to. To make it worse, Hoseok is his kind of cute boy. It’s all in the smile.

“So, the first thing you need to do is get that heart warm by rubbing it between your hands.”

“Do we really have to do this part?” Yoongi asks, looking sheepish. He’s seen this part from his perch, and it seems awkward to do it in the middle of the mall. He looks around himself, even though there’s nobody here to watch him. Well except for Seokjin and Taehyung. This just doesn’t feel like the sort of thing that a guy who’s in his late twenties should be doing.

“Don’t you want little Hoseok here to have a big heart?” Hoseok asks him, holding the bear by its arms like it’s ready to reach out and give Yoongi a hug. If the way he holds it wasn’t enough, all he needs to do is look at the real Hoseok’s lip pouting out. He’s never been good at saying no to people.

Yoongi just sighs, nods, and says, “okay.”

“Perfect!” Hoseok says and has Yoongi warm the heart up. He demonstrates with his hands what he wants Yoongi to do, so he copies. “Then you’re going to tap on it to get that heart beating. And you’re going to want to rub it on your cheek so that little Hoseok always smiles at you. And rub it on your funny bone so your bear is full of giggles. And rub the heart on your tummy so that he gets all of the food he needs without stealing yours. And rub it on your side so that he’s by your side for life. Anyone want to chip in?” Hoseok directs the question at the two behind him.

“Rub the heart on your toes so that he is toe-tally awesome!” Taehyung says.

“Rub it on your knees so that he always knee-ds you,” Seokjin says.

Yoongi takes it all in good stride, though he’s painfully awkward as he tries to modestly follow all the commands. He wonders if they’re just messing around with him again. When he thinks of that, his entire body stiffens up. He doesn’t want them to make fun of him.

“And the last thing you need to do is hold the heart up to your face and make a wish,” Hoseok says. He looks at Yoongi and sees that he looks very uncomfortable right now, which was never his intention. He probably shouldn’t have gone overboard on giving the bear so many traits. But it’s Yoongi’s first bear and now he’s part of the group so maybe he just wanted to show off. Then he opens up the back of the bear for Yoongi to put the heart into. “I’m sorry if that was too many things. We aren’t trying to embarrass you. We just really like our job.”

“I’m only here for the view,” Seokjin says, looking across the hallway to where Namjoon is serving both smoothies and looks.

Hoseok smiles brightly and Yoongi is mesmerized by it. “Do you want to add any smells to your bear?” he asks. Yoongi doesn’t hear the question. Embarrassing himself makes him weak, and in his weak state, Hoseok’s face is able to reach inside of him. He repeats the question when Yoongi doesn’t answer, so he blanches.

“Wh-what?”

“I have smells you can add to your bear,” he says and then scoots over on his chair to point to them.

“I made a bear with four smells inside once,” Seokjin says. “One in each arm and leg. Different fruit smell in each one. He smells like a smoothie, and it reminds me of my husband.”

Taehyung makes an aww sound and Seokjin just nods because he knows that he wins cutest couple award.

“Uh, I guess,” Yoongi shrugs. “What’s your favorite?”

“Cotton candy,” Taehyung says, his eyes darkening. It’s a frequent joke that Taehyung likes the cotton candy smell. He keeps one in his apron, so he goes around everywhere smelling like cotton candy.

“I like lavender,” Seokjin smiles.

“We’re out of lavender.”

“Then I like watermelon.”

“Oh me too,” Hoseok nods. “I’m a watermelon kind of guy.”

“Let’s do watermelon,” Yoongi says. Hoseok loves how easy it is to make any grown man excited about a teddy bear at Build-A-Bear Workshop. They come in with whatever bravado they have but then you tell a guy he can make his bear smell like birthday cake and his eyes light up.

He lets Yoongi smell it and when Yoongi nods a little too eagerly his heart thuds painfully against his ribcage. He’s so pretty, he’s so pretty, he’s so pretty.

Once the smell is inside, Hoseok stitches up the bear with lightning quick precision. Yoongi can’t stop himself from looking at his hands. They look strong, but also a little blistered from all the stitching and sewing he must do. When the bear is done, he gives little Hoseok over to Yoongi. He doesn’t mean to, but he gives little Hoseok a very excited squeeze and that’s what makes big Hoseok’s mouth dry up a little bit. He can’t stop himself from imagining Yoongi cuddling the bear late at night. God, and if he actually names the bear Hoseok! He’s going to cry!

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, and Hoseok nods.

“You get to dress him up now!”

Taehyung jumps up excitedly to give him a tour of their Dress Me wall. Everyone has a favorite part of the store, and Taehyung is oddly in love with showing off all the clothes that you can put on the animals.

“Might I suggest a tiara?” Hoseok says.

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Taehyung shakes his head, “personally, I’m against shoes and tiaras because they are not as easy to cuddle in bed.”

“We also have bows!” Hoseok jumps up excitedly after picking up some loose stuffing from the floor.

Yoongi ends up putting the bear in a dinosaur pajama piece and Hoseok has never been prouder of such a marvelous creation before. Also, Yoongi lets him put the bows on the bear. This is quite possibly the most perfect bear that Hoseok has ever been witness to. He’s a soft, dark brown bear, that plays the Star Wars theme, smells like watermelon, wears a dinosaur onesie, and has pink and purple bows on his ears. He’s perfect.

“That’s hands down one of the most beautiful bears I’ve ever seen,” Seokjin says, and there’s no sarcasm to his voice which is astonishing.

Yoongi would feel self-conscious if he didn’t agree whole heartedly. Little Hoseok is one of the seven wonders of the modern world. Big Hoseok helps him to make a birth certificate which Yoongi finds adorable. True to his word, the name that goes on the birth certificate is ‘Little Hoseok.’ Big Hoseok then proceeds to take all of the tags off of the bear and his clothes and brings them to the register.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll pay,” Yoongi says.

“Um, excuse you,” Hoseok says. “I lured you over here in order to buy you a bear, you aren’t paying for shit.”

“But it’s expensive, I-”

“Listen, there’s nothing you can actually do to stop me, I’m the one who knows how to use the register,” Hoseok says. Yoongi accepts defeat, though it’s with several more “are you sure?”s. Eventually, Yoongi comes to be holding little Hoseok inside of a little box that is the perfect size to hold him. He honestly feels like ripping the bear right back out and holding him. He would probably prefer holding onto the bear’s namesake, but anything to keep him less lonely at night will do the trick. For now.

Hoseok sends Yoongi away brightly. Taehyung asks him to stick around a little longer, but he really needs to get some air, because breathing in Hoseok’s air makes him lightheaded. Aw fuck, he’s a little boy having his first crush in elementary school all over again.

***

“You know, for their first date Seokjin and Namjoon came here and recreated the scene from Ghost only instead of pottery, they made a unicorn,” Hoseok says.

“That was, like, our third date actually,” Seokjin says. Namjoon sits at the table outside of the concourse waiting for Seokjin’s shift to end. There are actually two other managers at Orange Julius that aren’t him, which is hard to believe because he’s such a workaholic. Crazy, right?

“Not to sound dramatic, guys, but that’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Taehyung says.

“The unicorn was our ringbearer.”

“Even I know that’s not true. I was at the wedding,” Jungkook says.

“So was I,” Taehyung says. Literally everyone was at their wedding. It was a year after their family had truly formed. Taehyung was fresh but he was still beloved.

“Well that’s what I’m going to write in my autobiography anyway,” Seokjin shrugs.

Namjoon looks at him with stars in his eyes, very clearly hanging on his every word like he’s an angel. There’s literally never been a couple more helplessly, adorably in love as Namjoon and Seokjin. If you look too hard at them then your heart will rot away. Also, you’ll crave desperately someone to hold you. Sometimes Jimin gives extended hugs and that’s the closest Hoseok has been to a person in about seven years.

In the process of looking at the two of them clearly in love, Hoseok sees a beautiful black-haired boy come in through the service door behind them. Hoseok’s heart bumps out of key for just the briefest second before returning to normal.

“Yoongi!” He says, calling him over. It’s been about a week since Yoongi made little Hoseok and ever since, Hoseok has been very excited by his presence whenever he sees him. Not to say he wasn’t before, but it’s a little louder now. He assures himself it’s just because Yoongi seems like he’ll fit into their friend group. That’s surely all it is. It’s not just because he’s also the prettiest guy Hoseok has possibly ever seen.

“Hi Hoseok,” Yoongi says smiling softly. Either Yoongi doesn’t say hi to everyone else or Hoseok tunes it out because of the way that his mouth looks when he forms words out of it. His voice is so calming. He could read you the dictionary and you’d be fascinated by every word.

“I’ve got to go to work,” Yoongi says and waves goodbye only a minute later.

“Oh, okay,” he says. Seokjin checks his watch and realizes that Yoongi’s shift starting means that his shift is ending.

“Freedom!” he says excitedly, tearing off his apron. Namjoon smiles at him and watches Seokjin as he goes into the concourse and clocks himself out for the day. When he returns, he kisses Namjoon a little bit too passionately for public and Jungkook makes a grossed-out face. Taehyung just thinks they’re cute. Taehyung loves love a little bit too much. Whenever anyone looks like they’re in love, he thinks it’s cute. His favorite thing in the world is when couples come into the store and record their voices saying “I love you” to each other for their bears. There’s no one who does a better heart ceremony for anniversaries than Taehyung.

“Take me away from here,” Seokjin says. They’re very weird people. They’re a match made in heaven, which is evident because they each put up with each other. Seokjin climbs onto Namjoon’s back like it’s normal and they walk away with Namjoon giving him a piggyback ride. God, Hoseok wants something like that.

“I want something like that,” he says.

“If we’re both single when we’re forty I’ll be that for you,” Taehyung says. Hoseok smiles at him and nods. He loves Taehyung, but not romantically. If he’s still single at that age, god forbid, he’ll live with any of his friends so that he’s not lonely, but he does not want to kiss Taehyung even though he’s sure it would be amazing.

It’s weird. When he first met Taehyung, even though he knew he was gorgeous, he never felt an instinctual urge to run his hands through his hair and kiss his cheek. Not like he thinks about Yoongi like that or anything…

He looks over to Orange Julius at the prettiest employee. Hoseok’s not close with the other managers there; one of them is a total piece of shit, and the other is way too serious. Yoongi is getting instructions for the day from the way too serious one, and his face in profile mesmerizes Hoseok.

“Um, earth to Hoseok?” Taehyung says, waving a hand in front of his face. He looks up from his trance and realizes they have a customer. He jumps right back into customer service mode with Jungkook behind him wondering if their little Hoseokie might have a bit of a crush.

***

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“So,” Jimin says.

“So,” Hoseok replies.

“So.”

“So?”

“How do you like the new Orange Julius employee?” Jimin asks.

Hoseok frowns at him, sitting across from him at the dining room table that Jimin’s mom gifted them when they moved into their own place.

“Isn’t that something I should be asking you? You’re his coworker.”

Jimin purses his lips, “yeah, but you’ve been very eager to get him to interact with us in the group chat.”

“Are you trying to ask me for my permission so you can fuck him or something?” Hoseok asks. “Because, I really don’t think he’s gay.”

“No,” Jimin scoffs. Jimin doesn’t think that Hoseok knows he sometimes sleeps with Taehyung in a friends with benefits sort of way, but he does. Very hard to hide a secret like that from him when he’s both Jimin’s roommate and Taehyung’s boss. Hoseok is pretty sure that Jimin doesn’t know Taehyung is in love with him, but that’s just something they’ll figure out for themselves one of these days.

“Then what’s your point?”

“I’m pretty sure you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” Hoseok says, which is both a lie and the truth.

“You like him.”

“I… shut up, Jimin.”

He smirks at him and then winks. Jimin turns around to rinse off his plate, but he leaves the feeling in the air. He’s not surprised that Jimin sees through him, but he desperately hopes that he’s the only one. Yoongi can’t know that, he only just met him, and that would make their budding friendship very weird.

“When was the last time you had sex, Hoseok? I don’t think you’ve slept with someone since I met you. That’s like five years. What if it falls off?”

Hoseok throws a piece of egg at him which gets lodged in his hair. Hitting him where it hurts; Jimin cares more about his hair than he does about his health.

“Probably closer to seven years.”

“Dude! That’s a really long time.”

“I’m me, Jimin,” he says, like that’s an explanation. “I don’t sleep with people unless they’re special.”

“You never slept with me,” Jimin says, “I’m special.”

“That’s because you’re Jimin and I don’t like you,” he says, flinging another piece of food at him. He and Jimin went on one date soon after they first met. The two of them went to college and studied dance together, so it seemed to make sense at the time. They both thought dating each other might be convenient until they went on one date, found it awful and decided to instead be best friends. It’s been working out pretty well, neither of them has wanted to date the other since and it’s been nearly five years. Hoseok can’t imagine how terrible it would be if they had moved into this apartment and been trying to date. He might not have his best friend in the world if that had happened.

Jimin rolls his eyes and backs away from the projectile. “Okay, so maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself, but I do wish you’d date someone. You have to be getting lonely over there in your room, watching porn slightly too loudly because you think I can’t hear it.” Jimin barely even attempts to pretend he’s watching porn sometimes, that’s just the kind of person he is. Hoseok’s headphones are often put to good use because of the weird things Jimin is into.

“I’ll go at my own pace,” he says. “I’m married to my job, Jimin, you know that. I put in so many hours at work, so I barely have a life unless it’s with you.”

“Do you think maybe you’re just scared of entering a relationship? I’m not talking about Yoongi in specific. I mean in general. I think it’s been so long for you that you forgot how to date.”

“That’s very probable,” Hoseok says, going back to the food in front of him which he had been eating before he started throwing it at Jimin. “What about you, though, Jimin? You haven’t found the one yet, either.” He doesn’t mention Taehyung, because surely there’s a reason that he hasn’t told Hoseok about that.

“I date!” Jimin says. But he hasn’t since he started fucking Taehyung.

“You’re just as afraid of commitment as I am.”

Jimin scowls. “That’s not true. I at least know how to date someone. I know how to be a boyfriend and how to love someone and how to… fuck. You haven’t dated since college, and that’s not real dating anyway. You’re not a real person yet until you leave college.”

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” he says, and that’s the honest to god truth. It’s all too much to think about. Yeah, he hasn’t dated anyone in a really long time, and it’s become easy. Being single is just the way that he knows how to exist. Allowing another person into his life is far too much pressure. He’d just as soon be content or discontent not putting himself out there than try to navigate the world of dating for the first time at age 26.

But then again, wouldn’t it be nice to cuddle someone? God, his skin hungers for someone to cuddle him and put their arms around his waist and kiss his neck. He blushes at the thought. He wonders who that person will be. What do they do in their life? What do they look like? Hoseok doesn’t view himself as a real adult, so he can’t have someone with a real job. He can’t date a lawyer, because that’s a whole ass person with their life in order, and Hoseok stuffs bears for a living. He couldn’t date a doctor, because they’re in charge of making sure people don’t die, and Hoseok puts bunnies into fairy princess dresses on the regular.

It really would be convenient for the both of them if he and Jimin had romantic attraction to each other. That would be pretty great. Or if he actually liked Taehyung, or if it was seven years ago and he had beat Seokjin to Namjoon. None of those relationships would last though, because he just doesn’t like them that way, even if there was once a time when he thought he did.

Yoongi is a convenient scapegoat. He’s too young, probably straight, therefor, he’s off limits. Hoseok can’t possibly find himself wanting to be in a relationship with someone if that person is five years younger than him, so he can continue to find Yoongi attractive all he likes, and he can save himself from committing to a real relationship.

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[amaikana]

Started this weekend with some norray. Let’s see where the rest of my mood goes later. :3 -.-.- Rating: T Pair: NorRay Tag(s): Victorian Era Vibes, Master & Servant, Nobility, Drama & Romance Wordcount: 2k+ words Summary: “Venturing into the darkness of the night alone is unseemly for a son of a noble family like you, Young Master.”  Smiling sheepishly, Norman turned his head. A teenage boy just about his age was standing there. “Shouldn’t I say the same about you?”  “Flirting with danger, just for the sake of seeing a lowly house servant like me. You really are something else.”  Norman chuckled and stepped forward. He brought up one hand to caress the other boy’s cheek gently before pausing his touch and let his palm linger there. “I’ve missed you too much…Ray.” A/N: Cross posted on AO3 -.-.-

Strolling down the maze of passages briskly in darkness, Norman tried to keep silent. Recalling in his memory which step of the stairs he shouldn’t land his feet on to, he avoided the creaky woods carefully. The light of the lantern lamps hanging around the walls were illuminating some parts of the narrow pass in flickering scarlet. Not that helpful in aiding his little venture, but enough for him to make sure he didn’t step into the wrong turn.

Arriving at the end of the stairs, he took a turn to the left corridor—wasn’t actually sure of the direction of his goal, but dared gambling on his instincts.

Turned out his gamble wasn’t in vain.

His heart felt as if it had leapt up to his throat when he, only a few steps later into the turn, heard a voice uttered sharply precisely beside his ear.

“Venturing into the darkness of the night alone is unseemly for a son of a noble family like you, Young Master Norman.”

Smiling sheepishly, Norman turned his head. A teenage boy just about his age was standing there. The boy’s attires were those of regular servants of the house—a white shirt coupled with dark suit and a bowtie. Some of parts of his dark hair fell over his face, covering his left eye almost completely.

“Shouldn’t I say the same about you?” Norman tilted his head, making an effort to hide his smile, yet staring fondly at the other.

“It is my duty to always be available at any time should my Masters needed me,” the other boy answered simply.

Some parts of his heart clenched. ‘Overworking into the night shouldn’t be on the list of your duties’ he wanted to say. But ‘overwork’ itself was a vague term, and the boy before him was nothing if not loyal and persistent—almost bordering so on masochistic, perhaps.

Instead, Norman stepped forward. He brought up one hand to caress the other boy’s cheek gently before pausing his touch and let his palm linger, giving some warmth to the cold skin there. The other didn’t flinch even slightly. Though those pair of gray eyes glinted underneath the lantern light, reflecting hidden carnal desires he’s sure was there.

“I’ve missed you too much…Ray,” he whispered. His hold on the other’s face tightened ever so slightly. His voice carrying some deep emotions within himself that he couldn’t put into words.

“Flirting with danger, just for the sake of seeing a lowly house servant like me. You really are something else, Young Master.”

Norman chuckled a little. His hand trailed down from the face until it rested into the other’s palm, lacing in both his and Ray’s fingers together there.

“It’s alright, isn’t it? There’s always you here whom I trust would scare away any demon of the night and keep me safe.”

Ray snorted, finally breaking his stoic pretense. “I am a mere lowly servant, not your knight in shining armor.”

“Your wit is enough to break any armors,” he mused lightly.

“Then, in that case, I am even more not needed. You are just as cunning as I am, if not even more.”

Norman hummed, smiling slightly, enjoying their close proximity that made his face heated up. He shook his head. “It is all the more reason why I need you. For you are the one who’s capable of decipher my thinking the most.”

“Am I supposed to be honored?” Ray raises an eyebrow unimpressedly.

Though those words were dragged out in an unamused manner, Norman knew, it was all just façade to mask out the delight that he could see brimming clearly on the other’s eyes.

“That was more of a fact than a praise.” He shook his head slowly. A small smile still tugging on his cheeks. “Though if you are such a loyal servant, then it won’t be presumptuous of me to assume that you’d comply to anything of my selfish desires, no?”

“So, I suppose.” Ray took a step forward. Their bodies almost touching with just a hairbreadth distance and the garments from their own clothes separating them. And when Ray’s breath tickled his ear with the next whisper, Norman’s breath hitched. “What do you need of me, Young Master?”

“How about all of you? I wish to have all of you.”

His own words came out shakily. Norman brought another hand up and placed it between them, tracing the chiseled chest those silk garment hidden behind with his trembling fingers.

“…But am I not yours already?”

Their foreheads touching. Those words were murmured so softly. Fondness and desires blended into one breath that felt almost tangible in the air shared between them. Their lips were only inches from each other. The anticipation making his heart beat madly.

His lips wobbled. “R-ray… Come on…” he plead.

A small smile. The forehead that was touching his was gone. The other pulled back slightly before finally, finally, muttered the word that he had waited for too long.

“Gladly…Norman.”

That simple consent was all he needed. He leapt greedily to catch the other’s pair of lips, immediately lavishing anything he could get like a starved man on his first grandiose meal.

The first touch felt like a jolt of electricity. His eyes fluttered close. His hands both tangled in those dark strands. Another pair of hands tangled in his.

Ray backed him off until his body hitting the brick wall behind them. Their kiss was broken off briefly, and Norman panted breathlessly. He felt dazed. Either it’s because his head hitting the wall too hard, or because the kiss that he had been fantasizing about for days before was finally given to him. Most likely it was the later, but Norman didn’t really give it much thought. For there’s only one person right in front him who’s currently clouding all his thoughts. One name that had been sabotaging all his daydreams.

“Poor Lady Emma,” Ray suddenly said. Voice teasing and mischievous, though Norman was more distracted by those fingers tracing the saliva on his chin until it swept up his lips. One calloused thumb stayed there, and his lips wobbled again in a whine.

“What would she think,” Ray continued, “If she found out that the young lord she had wasted a long journey to come visit to, is more interested in kissing his servant rather than kissing her dignified lips.”

Norman laughed at that. “Honestly,” he shook his head slightly, “The visit is nothing more than just a dutiful daughter of Earl doing her ‘friendly’ visits to her father’s allies. She’s dreaming of a Prince on a white horse. A person that I never was, and neither would ever be.”

“How sure are you of that?” Ray raised his eyebrow. “Last time I hear, your name was famous among the ladies in the town as the charismatic future heir.”

“They only know one side of my masks, then.” He smiled almost coyly, fingers playing with Ray’s collar and buttons. Itching to peel those clothes off, but all too aware of their current circumstance. “Rather than as a magnificent Prince, my life is honestly more of a Rapunzel-esque. Being caged in this dingy house, waiting for my reluctant knight to save me.”

Ray snorted at that.

“Ah, but should I say……Cinderella? With secret midnight affairs like this.” He laughed a little, remembering that one sappy fairytale book that they’d found in the attic all those years ago.

Ray cracked a smile, probably remembering the same thing. “Such a sharp wit. As expected of the future heir of the honorable Ratri family.”

Norman laughed again. “Really, with the way you’re keeping up with me, one would think you were my confidant rather than my servant.”

“Can I just be both, then?”

The kiss was resumed again. He melted into it, eagerly parted his lips and relishing in the feel of tongue of the person he loved lavishing his mouth cavern. Their tongues danced with one another. Neither of them minded how awfully loud their bashful moans echoed in the corridor. Having each other in their arms like this, perhaps consequences had taken far back seat in both their minds. Though, sadly, nothing could ever last forever.

A sudden ring of bell jolted them both in surprise. They unlatched themselves from each other sheepishly.

“It’s Master Peter.” Ray sighed. “I guess your little night venture should meet its end here.” Ray tried to smile at him, but Norman couldn’t help how the petulant part of him reluctant to let the other go.

“What he could even possibly need at this hour?” Norman grumbled.

“Too many possibilities. ‘Fetch me some drink,’ perhaps?”

“Or, ‘The weather’s too cold. Bring me a pile of blankets cause I forgot that I have two perfectly functioning legs on me.’”

Ray laughed. “You know he’s never like that.”

“Yeah, that’d be more like Uncle Andrew,” he said wryly.

“Master Andrew is the worst guest.” Ray scrunched up his nose in agreement.

Norman sighed. “It was so perfect. This is such a nuisance.”

“Norman, I need you to let me go before Master Peter could be really mad,” Ray said exasperatedly.

“Can you just bail on him for once? Pretend that you’ve fallen asleep already? You’re supposed to be my personal attendant, anyway. Shouldn’t you prioritize my request over anyone else’s?”

He knew the reason. But he couldn’t help it. As much as he hated to sound spoiled, chance for encounter like this didn’t come much for either of them.

“You know why.” Ray shook his head fondly.

Norman was aware how his fingers squeezing Ray’s sleeves, making the perfectly ironed suit got severely crumpled. But part of him needed to repress down his urge to secretly giving his uncle sleeping pills mixed drink just so they could continue their moment there.

…Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

Ray probably could read his thought, as the other boy grimaced. “No weird ideas, please. I’m treading on a thin thread here. Master Peter already kind of dislikes me. And according to him, we’re ‘too inappropriately close with each other.’ If you’re making him dislike you too, we could really land ourselves on big trouble.”

He snorted. “If he dislikes me too, then the feeling would be mutual.”

“Norman.”

The exasperation carried a more serious tone this time. Norman sighed again. “Okay, okay.” He let his fingers go from Ray’s sleeves and took a step back. “When would I be able to catch you again, though?”

“I can’t promise you anything yet. Master Peter keeps requesting me to assist in various things these days. Various, menial things, mind you. Like cleaning up his car windows for like the seventh time, or polishing his already shiny shoes again. It’s like dealing with a child who hates me for some petty reason,” Ray said dryly.

Norman frowned. “It sounded to me more like he’s trying to distract you…”

“Well, yeah. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe he’s that type who’s too hung up on social construct and is really trying to separate us as much as he can. Could be the reason he’s inviting Lady Emma here too.” Ray snorted and added, “As if his nephew ever landed his eyes on ladies, anyway.”

Norman laughed at that.

The bell on the stair rang again. With great reluctance, they both understood, that they really need to part for real this time.

“I’ll give you some code if I can sneak some time again later, okay?”

Ray kissed his lips briefly for the last time, and Norman tried to savor it as much as he could.

“Farewell.” He smiled a little. “Please don’t neglect your rest.”

Ray hummed distractedly, trying to straighten the creases on his suit as to make himself more presentable again. “Later,” he said, before walking briskly to another corridor.

Norman watched as the other boy eventually disappeared into the dark. With the lack of another voice by his side, he stifled a sigh and let the eerie sound of the night be a music to his ears again. He walked back to his chamber. The night air felt colder on his skin this time.

#the promised neverland #tpn fic #norray #norman x ray #yakusoku no neverland

[kurtty-drabbles]

The Omen au (small intermission)

N/A: Mike´s powers will be explored here, but, also, Hela and Thor´s daughter will do a cameo, to be clear, she is innocent from all this madness and Thor is trying to save her. There are so many scary stories with creepy hotels and hey...why not?

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead

Veella is the name Hela pick for her and is quite fitting as it means "the one who has no work to do" but her life is far from idyllic. Having her father´s blonde hair, but, her mother´s dark eyes. Veella is a teenager stuck in hell, literary as her mother is using anything and everyone to further her power.

Veella and her father are no different. Thor the God of thunder is here against his will, bidding by her spell to do her bidding and Veella can only hide and survive to another day, but, why she should care? She´s just a pawn in her mother´s chess game with Mephisto.

"Veella?" Thor spot the frail teenager hiding in the corpse of once a great demon, hell is hell and no one here cares if you´re the daughter of the ruler or not. "Come on, little one, you can leave...your mother is not here for now"

And the skinny, frail and young teen leaves her hideout to see her father who looks so tired(did he fight with demons or with mother again?) and she refrain to speak the many questions is on her mind.

"Did you eat?" Thor asked somewhat kindly offering some fruits (not from here. Never here) to the young girl.

"Do...you hate me?"

"I´d not hate you, Veella, I can´t hate you. You´re as much victim of this as I´m..."

"Can your Avengers friends help you?"

"Yes, but...what Hela can do to you stops me from calling them right now"

_____________________________________________________________________________

Kitty didn´t stop much on a plan, per se, Raven scared her so much that kick her fleet or fight reaction and her kneen reaction is to fleet, which is really rare, as even Michael can testify (he knows her for a few weeks) Kitty is a more confrontational person.

"Where are we going, Kitty?" Michael asking shaping into one of the characters of Hanna Montana.

"I don´t know...somewhere, someplace where your mother can´t find us" Kitty started taking the bus to anywhere. As the girl tries to think of a plan, Michael offers a suggestion.

"Mother can´t read minds, Katzchen, why we don´t stay in a hotel and think better tomorrow?"

"Why am I a pile of nerves and you´re so calm?"

"I don´t know" he replies and is a sincere answer "I never thought I would leave that place...maybe, to me, this is still a dream...and tomorrow I´ll be back to the attic"

Kitty pinches his arms and Michael let a pained moan from his lips roll. "See? That´s real"

"You know, in Dreamlands...you can feel pain too"

"Do you want another pinch, Michael?"

"No, madame" _________________________________________________________________________

The hotel Flore is not exactly 5 stars hotel, but, they have a room available, the price is good for the night and the receptionist is not making too many questions in regards two teenagers alone at this time.

While Kitty is talking to the receptionist about the dinner(just now her appetite and Michael´s return) Michael, still under a disguise, can feel eyes on them. Eyes on the wall.

"Michael, do you want to eat now?" Kitty asked and is a silly question to do in her opinion.

"We can´t think on empty stomach" Michael replies cheerful and Kitty gives the menu(she wonders how she got money...and Michael can´t answer that, for the moment, is better for her to believe it was lucky money on her wallet)

The eyes followed Michael and Kitty closely and Michael is great in manipulating people and anything else...if he puts the mind into.

____________________________________________________________________________

The hotel Flore has a curse, so to speak, a ghost roams freely the hotel in search of a new victim and has a preference for children, how the hotel cover the missing cases that certainly should link them to the crime and the ghost? They are great liars and can manipulate anyone. They convinced the last family that was here that their son leaves earlier to hang out with other kids and...never again show up.

The ghost is sure that killing those two kids will be easy. Well, killing the girl was no challenge, but, it also proves to be a great mistake and one that cost his life.

Michael is carrying her lifeless form as his eyes are crimson and his azzure form is revealed.

"A demon?" the ghost replies now feeling afraid. Maybe, in his last moments, he truly thought he could make a deal with the blue demon, but, killing Kitty was a mistake that cost his life.

"She´s mine...you killed her" Michael replies now feeling a fit of seething anger making his blood boil. "I´m not free to see her die...she can´t die...and this hotel can´t exist anymore"

Michael offers a cruel smile as the ghost and the hotel realize too late what happened.

_____________________________________________________________________

Kitty wakes up and looks at her surrounders for a moment and then to Michael who is in his blue form again. "where are we?"

"Oh...funny story...I noticed one of my mother´s workers in the hotel..."

"But...how..."

"I teleport us...sorry, I was too excited to think straight, yes, I can teleport and not for far places...yes, the seal did block most of my powers"

"Oh god, that is insane...what we do now?"

"I have an idea...what do you think of the X-men?"

_________________________________________________________________________

Prof X heard stories about the Hotel Flore and never gave much attention as this is a work for the police, however, when Moira arrives telling the Hotel was evaporated from existence with everyone inside and how this makes the seals ring loudly, now, Prof X is giving his attention.

"So...the Anti-Christ is free, at least, what we do now, Charles?" Moira asked as the other members can finally pinpoint who is the Anti-Christ.

Thor looks at the azzure kid´s photo(thanks to the seal) and looks at the hotel, according to Moira and the police, this hotel used to have 200 peoples there including the workers and now...they are gone completely.

Then...now it begins. Thor thoughts looking at Courtney and Dr Strange discussing the next move.

#the omen au #michael darkholme #yandere!michael #kurtty #kitty pryde #sorry this was a bit rush but his powers will be more explored later I have to get a grip on what he can do and can´t do yet

[mischievousmoonhunter-blog]

Shadow of the Stars

A Captain America and Winter soldier story

Jaylin Rogers has always struggled with being the daughter of Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, mostly because of her lack of freedom. After a failed attempt to do something about this, her life is changes forever when a shadow from her father’s past returns to haunt her.  

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

CHAPTER ONE

It isn’t easy, being the daughter of super-soldier Steve Rogers – better known as the legend Captain America. Not at all. First of all, it is never fun to always be “daughter of” and nothing more. You quickly learn to live inside a shadow. Your last name will always be far more important than your first, even though that’s the one identifying you. Second of all, it is weird. I mean, he’s older than many (if not most) grandfathers, yet on bad days he might look barely older than 30.  And… let’s just say that as I got older, and the girls around me got older as well, those girls started to notice how “young” he was. Third, I wasn’t super. At least, not nearly as super. Having only half of his genes meant I was maybe a bit faster and stronger than most people without having to work out 24/7, but being healthy, never getting a cold or beating all high school boys in sprint doesn’t make you “cool” or even likable.

They did say I look like him, with my blue eyes and blond hair. Mine are both darker, less… pure. As if my appearance was a confirmation I wasn’t as good as him - proof of being in a constant state of disappointment. As a little girl, you quickly learn the other kids only want to play with you because they want to see your house and the stuff in it. Everyone always seems to look right through you. I can tell from personal experience it is pretty traumatic when other pre-schoolers get mad at you because no one is allowed to come home with you… Let me say: you learn to SHIELD yourself from other people… Sorry, that was bad. But yeah… Admittedly, there are some advantages to being spawn of the Steve Rogers; you never get bad grades on history tests and essays. Oh, you also have lots of non-related, vengeful aunts and uncles. With vengeful I actually mean the Avengers. They are cool, though dad tries to keep me away from that world.

Aunt Nat is amazing, and she’s actually my best friend. She taught me everything I need to know about being a girl, and I think dad still owes her for not having to deal with any of my “woman inconveniences”. Then there’s Sam. He’s one of the nicest guys I know and probably the most normal one, too - even though he regularly soars through the sky with metal wings strapped to his back. He’s a good support in a world that is totally abnormal, despite your father’s attempts to make sure you don’t get caught in his own, strange reality. Sam understands how it feels to live in between those two worlds – the one where they worry about their grades, crushes, jobs and promotions, and the one where you’re in a constant state of vigilance, knowing no one is who they say they are. He’s the most stable part of my life; a sturdy pillar to hold me up. One might think this connection and support would mean I’d be happy to see him when he picked me up after school. In reality it didn’t, because it meant dad was on another mission and hadn’t had time to say as much as “goodbye”.

'If it isn't the messenger,' I grunted, pulling the car door open with a mean swing. Had I had my father’s strength, it would’ve been dangling in my hand, torn loose from its hinges. 'Hello to you too,' Sam greeted me, leaning undisturbed upon the sleek car. It was a dark blue model, matching the navy blue jacket the driver was wearing today. It fluttered a little in the heavy wind, which also rustled through my ponytail. I slumped down in the passenger seat and shut the door - not too carefully - all the while I kept staring straight ahead. ‘How's the captain?' I sneered. Sighing, Sam got in, closing the door behind him. ‘He didn't know he'd have to go, you know.' That I knew, very well. Still, I looked out the window with a constant frown on my face. The keys jingled when Sam turned them to start the engine. The car hummed a pleasant, low rumble, and barely made a sound as Sam steered it towards the tranquillity of our home. It would take us while until we would reach the niceness of familiarity. For now, I just watched blankly as teenagers laughed and complained while stepping into their cars, all happy to go back to their ordinary home and ordinary parents. All of them were quickly out of view, replaced by the many other aspects of mundane life. ‘You are such a little beam of sunlight, aren't you?' I was aware of Sam’s eyes glancing back and forth between the road and me, those brown eyes always full of worry. If I were to look at him, my angry mask would break, so I kept staring ahead. 'Humph...' 'That's all I get? I come here, especially for you, and you don't even smile. And I do like your smile so much, Jay...' I could no longer resist; I gave him a sly look and met his kind and teasing expression. I smirked, laced with a genuine – though slightly unwilling – smile. 'That's my girl,' Sam smiled back. 'How was school?' Ugh, school; I rolled my eyes. 'The usual. You know, I don't see the point in testing how many presidents we can memorise, there aren't that many.' I breathed on the window and drew little stars, which vanished within seconds. 'Not everyone has super memory,' Sam remarked. I grimaced at him. 'I'm nothing compared to dad. Besides, what is the use of knowing all American presidents?' 'Says the daughter of America's greatest patriot...' Sam smiled at the road ahead. 'Exactly.’ I sunk a little deeper down into the seat, so I could only barely catch glimpses of the colours rushing past the car’s windows. ‘I can know.' I watched as we drove into a quieter lane guarded by high trees, until we arrived at an electronic fence, which opened automatically when the cameras recognised our faces. We lived far away from the city, somewhere surrounded and guarded by tall trees. Here, you never heard the constant noise of traffic, or the never-ending murmur of voices. Only here, I knew true silence, were it not for the evermoving branches with their rustling leaves. 'How was your day?' I informed, hauling my backpack over one shoulder and closing the car door behind me, still a bit of annoyance packed in the gesture. Together, we made our way to the big, white house, oozing America. Made of wood, with a big porch, two stories and even an attic, perfectly maintained; exactly as you’d expect from Captain America’s home. Soft leaves crackled underneath our feet, giving a lovely, autumny atmosphere to this already idyllic picture. 'Also the usual,' Sam held the door for me. 'Want waffles?' I threw my bag on the kitchen table. 'Is that even a question?' 'What's the magic word?' 'Please,' I grinned. ‘Or else...'

I watched Sam take everything he needed, prepare the batter and begin making the waffles. He did it with the ease of a man who’d done it a hundred times before – which was about right, to be honest. I loved Sam’s cooking. 'Nat’s with him?' I asked, walking towards the fridge where I took a bottle of glacier water (it had become my favourite after a joke of Natasha and Tony had stuck around). 'Yeah, though they didn't need me, for some reason.' Yet again I was amazed at how little Sam seemed to care about that. 'They need you to babysit,' I chuckled, nudging him as I walked by. 'Even though I don't need it, I appreciate it.' Sam glanced back at me. 'I'm happy to hear that.'

'Mmm,' I hummed a while later as I poured maple syrup all over my waffles, 'you're such a good mommy bird.' 'I will take that as a compliment,' Sam said the moment my phone buzzed.

Dear Jaylin,

I'm sorry I had to leave again, so soon after my last mission. Sam promised me he'd take care of you. I trust you will behave.

Love, Dad

When I read "I trust you will behave," I grimaced at the screen. How old did he think I was? It was frustrating; while other people often thought I was quite a bit older than I actually was, my dad still seemed to deem me no more than a foolish little girl. It was especially frustrating because I had always felt different, maybe even older, than most children surrounding me. It had often crossed my mind this might be another result of my father’s genes – how they even interfered with how I grew up, refusing to grant me as much as a normal childhood. 'Sometimes I feel like I should date someone dad really dislikes,' I mused abruptly. I imagined myself coming home with the biggest jerk I could find and shivered. Sam’s cheeks rose as he took a sip from his large mug filled with strongly smelling coffee. 'I would be worried, if I didn't know you have more pride than your dad.' 'Sadly, yes.'

Hey, Natasha... Forgot something...?

I waited. Dad usually send his messages late, but Natasha didn't; she knew exactly how I felt about their sudden disappearances and the radio silences that usually followed. It’s how I got to hate surprises, as surprise never held a pleasant meaning for me, only that my father had to save the world again.

I'm really sorry I was really busy I'll make it up when we’re back...?

Even these texted words were hasty. Still, they seemed genuine enough.

Sure Keep him safe, will you?

I was aware It wasn't much of a message, but it was all she would need; Nat knew me too well to think I'd stay mad at her.

'So,' Sam said, when I had finished eating, and I had put down my phone, ‘are you going?' 'Going where?' Sam raised his eyebrows. 'The gala. I saw the flyers.' Flyers? Some brightly coloured papers seemed to hang before me. Curly font spelled out the date of a gala (or a masked ball) for all students. Apparently, it was going to be quite fancy. Now I thought about it, I recalled many people at school excitedly discussing the event. 'Oh, that... No, I don't think so.' 'Well, it's more than a month away,' Sam said confidently, like he was certain I would change my mind. This self-assuredness annoyed me. 'I’m really not going,' I stressed. 'Definitely not.' My guardian shrugged. ‘It might be good for you to go out. Be around people your own age.’ It was time to deploy my most efficient method to avoid topics I dislike: walking away. ‘Then let me go out,’ I smirked. ‘And as I am the same age as myself, I’ll be around people my own age, too.’ Before Sam could react, I sprinted to my room.

After changing into my workout clothes – shorts and a tank top –, I put in earbuds and let music fill my ears. Running never failed to calm me down. I didn't get tired easily, so sometimes I ran for hours on end without realising it. I was happy for the immense woods in which I could jog, without people staring at me or annoying me. So, today, like I had done many times before, I let myself absorb the sound of the music while my mind went blank. My heart beat steadily. My blood flowed rapidly. My feet stomped regularly against the soft dirt. Just running, only running.  

Chapter Two

#bucky imagine #avengers imagine #bucky x reader #reader x bucky #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #captain america #sam wilson #falcon #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #tony stark #Iron Man #Sebastian Stan #Shadow of the Stars #captain america x daughter