i severely underestimated how long it would take me to do these

mum

Sirius Black had always traveled to King’s Cross with incredible joy in his heart knowing that he wouldn’t have to return to Grimmauld Place, 12 for several months and that he wouldn’t see his family for a very long time. This was the first time Sirius had trouble getting out of his bed on 1st of September. He didn’t know how to explain it but it felt like a hippogriff was sitting on his chest making it hard to breathe.

“Padfoot,” sighed James. “If you make me miss the train, I will steal all of Remus’ chocolate and blame it on you and he will believe me.”

“Idunwanowunintmmawf,” said Sirius into his pillow. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I don’t want to run into my mother,” he replied sitting up realising he didn’t have the strength to deal with James Potter at the moment. 

“We will move quickly and we won’t see even a string of her hair,” smiled James. “That’s a promise, Pads.”

“But she will see us Prongs,” mumbled Sirius looking like a lost puppy. “That bitch has her ways, she always finds me and Regulus in the crowd.”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous and get out of the bed” ordered James in return as he attempted carrying his trunk down the stairs for a second. “MUUUUUM can I locomotor my trunk dooooownn?”

“NO,” said Euphemia sternly from downstairs. “You’ll carry it down James and so will Sirius.”

“But muuuum-”

“James, dear, you are sixteen years old,” explained his mum like she was talking to a small child to make sure he doesn’t set the house on fire. “Stop acting like you are four or that girl you like so much won’t even look your way let alone like you. Independent women like grown men, not needy children.”

Euphemia Potter had a way with her son, she knew where all of his buttons were and how to push them just right because James Potter and his trunk were downstairs the Muggle way in a minute after the pep talk she had given. 

The breakfast was calmer than usual with Fleamont being at work and Sirius acting like he is half dead. When they were completely ready to floo themselves to the train station, Euphemia put her hand softly on Sirius’ shoulder, a kind of touch he wasn’t still used to after almost two months.

“Sirius,” began Euphemia. “What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

“I just really don’t want to run into my mother,” confessed Sirius. “I’m scared of what she might do to you.”

James shook his head in disbelief, he found it hard to understand the irrational fear Sirius had. He knew Walburga was one disturbed woman but he also knew his mother shouldn’t be underestimated.

“Walburga should be scared of running into me,” said Euphemia half jokingly but James knew what would happen if they were to run into that woman. “I can handle him dear.”

Sirius nodded as convincingly as he could before he grabbed floo powder from the porcelain bowl standing next to the marble fireplace.

“King’s Cross,” he said clearly and he was gone with the green flames in seconds.

It didn’t take long for James and his mum to come with the flames. They hurried towards the Platform 9 ¾ with their trolleys and James ran face first into the wall just to disappear into thin air and then Euphemia and Sirius ran to the other side of the wall as well. 

Hogwarts Express was standing with all it’s crimson glory waiting for the students to get in to take them to Hogwarts. The three of them walked hastily to where the Marauders’ compartment was. They stood in front of the door to say their goodbyes.

“Be good,” said Euphemia. “I don’t want any letters from Minerva this year James.”

“Mum, you know I can’t promise anything.”

“Where did I go wrong while raising you?” she asked curiously. “Don’t answer that.”

“Sirius, write to me whenever you feel like it,” she reminded. “I’ll be expecting you home for Christmas, alright?”

“Yes, mum,” said Sirius and choked on his words almost instantly as a warm smile formed on Euphemia’s lips and James’ eyes lit up like they were fairy lights.

“Tsk tsk, Sirius,” came Walburga’s cold voice behind them. “We shouldn’t call blood traitors who didn’t give birth to us ‘mum’.”

It seemed like Sirius had shrunk in size as Euphemia stepped in front of him protectively.

“Tsk tsk Walburga,” she repeated. “We shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations that aren’t ours and give opinions that no one asked for. He can call me ‘mum’ whenever he wants to, seeing that his actual mother is not available at the moment.”

Walburga made an attempt to grab Sirius by the wrist but Euphemia was agile for her age and she was holding onto Sirius’ wrist like he would die if she let go.

“You won’t touch my son and I’m not talking about James.”

“I suggest you stay out of this Euphemia, this is none of your business.”

“Oh, you made it my business when this boy showed up in my living room, barely breathing,” shot back Euphemia with all the rage that had been building up in her. Sirius was hiding behind her, careful not to catch Walburga’s piercing eyes.

“You are exaggerating,” she replied. “Nothing wrong with a little tough love.”

“I know an Unforgivable Curse when I see one Walburga,” she hissed just loud enough for people around them to hear, Walburga was turning purple with anger. “If I could, I would take Regulus from you, too, before he ends up dead from your tough love.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

“The same way you dare torture your children Walburga,” she said without blinking. “Now let go of my wrist and stay away from my sons.”

Sirius was trembling behind Euphemia who was standing like she was the queen of the universe, she didn’t move until Walburga Black turned around and left. 

“I told you I could handle her,” she said with a reassuring smile and caressed Sirius’ cheek softly. Sirius noticed the marks on Euphemia’s wrist then, burn marks like the long boney fingers of his mother. “As long as you got me, she can never come close to you and know that there’s nothing wrong with you calling me mum. Anyone would be proud to have you as a son and I am, too.”

“I- I can heal that if y-you want m-mum,” said Sirius, his voice shaking with the weight he was feeling on his shoulders. “I’ve- I’ve gotten pretty g-good with h-healing charms.”

“No Sirius, I can fix it. You forget you are not allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts,” she reminded and laughed a little. “It’s funny that a woman of her age is unable to control her magic like a toddler.”

Sirius’ eyes were still fixed on Euphemia’s thin wrist, his eyes filling up with the anger and sadness he was feeling. He lifted his eyes just a little to give a guilty look to James and saw his best friend smiling warmly down at him, he didn’t hide his pity but he didn’t have to. James always found it rather unlucky that Sirius ended up in such a messy family and never lied about how he felt about that situation, his pity was because he cared.

“Mum’s a big girl mate,” he said like he knew Sirius was about to spiral down and he needed someone to say something, anything. “She can take care of herself.”

“He is right, love,” nodded Euphemia. “Now, off you go, we don’t want you to miss the train because of something as unimportant and miserable as Walburga.”

“Just call her a bitch, mum.”

“James Fleamont Potter,” began Euphemia as she jokingly flicked her son’s arm. “You kiss me with that mouth and you will stop saying that word, even though some people deserve it, or so help me Merlin I’ll ground you until the end of time.”

“Okay, okay,” surrendered James. “I’ll just call her a goblin.”

“That’s my boy,” she replied and the spark came back to Sirius’ grey eyes. Euphemia hugged both of them and gave them loud kisses before she pushed them towards the train. “Don’t forget to write to me when you get there.”

“Sure, mum,” said Sirius with a grin before he was dragged away by an over eager James.

Systems Of Touch

Author: @eradikeats-writes as part of Bangtan University - a series of ongoing oneshots with @kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys (with beautiful, beautiful moodboards for the series)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language

Word Count: 9,746

ONE YEAR AGO

The conference was mandatory, a thing required for your degree and begrudgingly attended by all of your classmates. But you, however, found it to be a welcome reprieve from studying, exams, and your standard reclusive Friday night routine. You were awkward in your black cocktail dress, standing off to the side and nursing your champagne with slow, careful sips you hoped emulated elegance. People of importance moved around the room, intellectual conversations filtering through the air as you glanced from person to person; prayed that, as their wandering eyes found your lonely frame, even if for the briefest of moments, that they did not see you as an imposter.

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Reckless

Prompt: @whothehellisbella‘s song challenge - I’m In Here by Sia

A/N:This. Was. A. STRUGGLE!!! I wound up outlining a whole series that I felt really went with this song (yet to come), and this is the blob that I wrote for a one shot in in its stead. It’s angsty af and sooooo damn long. Idk team. Idk.

Warning: aaaangst, poor relationship dynamics.

Word Count: 6247 I’m fainting. This is the longest fic I’ve ever posted. I’m done.

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

“She gonna be okay?” Tony asked, handing Steve a cup of the shitty black sludge that the cafeteria passed off as coffee. His sharp brown eyes scanning the windows for any glimpse of you through the partially closed blinds. The muffled steady beeping of the monitors was a comfort, at least.

“Think so,” Steve sighed, finally lifting his gaze from his feet to mimic Tony’s glances into the room. He’d been seated opposite your door with his elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands since your arrival. “As long as the grafts take and she gets through the quarantine stage, she should recover alright.”

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2 | Save Me

BTS X READER: GANG / CRIME AU
word count: 3,405 
i’m sorry

warnings: violence, gore probably smut at some point I mean it’s me we’re talking about, dead bodies etc

Originally posted by annabartollo

masterlist | ask | prev | next


“You’d better take her back to headquarters, Namjoon will want to know why she’s still alive." 


"You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” Jungkook whispered as he started the car engine, “Taehyung can’t see us through the blackout windows.” His comment was everything but comforting, you were awkwardly sprawled across the back seat of a car without blacked out windows, about to be taken to some kind of headquarters where you would no doubt be killed. 

“Who are you? What do you want with me? Are you going to kill me?” Your voice wobbled as you sat up in the car so you could watch the city lights zoom past you, the memory of Jungkook killing a man still playing in your mind, 

“If I wanted you dead I would have killed you by now.” His voice was stern and flat, emotionless. 

“You murd-" 

"I’ll explain everything in time. Which way is your apartment?" 

"I’m not telling you where I live! Are you crazy?! You just shot a guy in the face! I- I thought we were going to-" 

"Don’t underestimate me and just tell me what I want to know. How do I get to your apartment?" 

Silence. 

"I could always pull the car over and break your fingers until one of them points me in the right direction." 

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Edge of Darkness

From the Marines to the Emmys to the most powerful cultural force in the galaxy, for ADAM DRIVER, finding his path has been a long, hard battle. Now, for STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI, in a role he never imagined could be so complex, the brooding face of millennial angst faces his toughest fight yet. Spoiler alert! 

British GQ, December 2017

His face shrouded beneath a hood, Adam Driver strides toward me. Shoulders hunched, fists jammed into jean pockets, he lets out a low whisper, “Hi. I’m Adam.”

The mixed messages – simultaneously worrying he’ll be recognised and that he won’t – hang in the air awkwardly as Driver surveys our spot, a near-empty New York City café. Neither fear is well-founded; there is no flock of fans to notice him and yet there is no mistaking the actor, his grey hoodie notwithstanding.

“I try to disguise things, but it just doesn’t really work for me,” Driver says, shedding the sweatshirt. “I honestly just look the way I look and it’s difficult to blend in because I’m tall and I look strange. I shouldn’t put a judgment on it.”

Others have judged his appearance more favourably. Driver has been dubbed a “cure for the cookie-cutter leading man” and “a millennial sex symbol”. Which may or may not be a compliment. Although few phrases are as loaded as “unconventionally attractive”, it’s as if those two words were combined expressly to describe Driver. Exaggerated ears; hooded, slanted eyes; long nose with a boxer’s bridge; broad mouth and lips – his disparate features coalesce into a surprisingly appealing whole.

“I guess I never think about it like ‘I am a leading man’ or ‘I am a sex symbol.’ It’s strange to hear that stuff. I don’t think I could have imagined it,” says Driver. Yet, there was his visage on Gap billboard ads; in American Vogue with a black-horned ram slung across his shoulders; in a close-up at the Emmy Awards, where he was nominated for Best Supporting Actor three years in a row for his part in HBO’s Girls; and cast eternally in plastic as a Kylo Ren action figure for Star Wars: The Force Awakens – masked and unmasked versions available. (“Not bad,” he says of the likeness, “but my head and face are a lot bigger.”) Passers-by who once stopped him to ask, “How could you do that to Hannah?” in reference to the bad-boy behaviour of Driver’s character in Lena Dunham’s runaway-success television series, now ask, “How could you do that to Han Solo?”

“It’s a lot,” Driver says, “every part of my life. If we rewound to ten years ago, I would not have said that this is what my life would be.

“And now this music,” he waves his hands at the piano composition streaming through the café like pretentious Musack, “is making that sound so emotional. It isn’t helping, you know?”

Far from angry, the brooding face of millennial angst is smirking. At 33, Adam Driver’s signature intensity hasn’t wavered, but interest in being a tortured artist has. He’s aware of his tendencies – toward anxiety, analysis and absolutism – and is taking steps to temper them. Still, it’s a struggle, seeing good fortune as anything but a cause for self-flagellation.

If we did rewind ten years, we’d see why. Driver was a Gordian knot of clenched intensity. Enrolled at New York’s Juilliard performing arts school, he was so aggressive that his comments made fellow students cry. Every morning he would have six eggs for breakfast, then run five miles to the school from his home in Queens. He would eat a whole chicken for lunch and, during his day at the prestigious drama school, perform random feats, such as 1,000 push-ups.

“That must’ve been an obnoxious thing to be around,” he says, shaking his head. “I was trying to make it as extreme for myself as possible. Now it just makes me so tired and annoyed.”

I’ve met Driver in a peaceful, leafy corner of the Brooklyn Heights neighbourhood that he and his wife, Joanne Tucker, call home. It’s a square precinct full of baby strollers that belies the borough’s hipster cred. “I like sleepy, quiet places,” Driver explains, “because my job is very loud.” Right now he’s savouring a respite from work, the first in a five-year sprint to stardom and even letting himself idle a little. Driver, who has made a career of ill-at-ease eccentricity, is starting to feel comfortable in his own skin.

He genuinely enjoyed himself on the set of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, which will be released in cinemas this December. “The first one was all ‘You can’t fuck it up,’ you know? There was a lot more hanging out this time,” Driver says. “Then there are just practical things, like I have a lightsaber. That’s fun.”

Keep reading

8

I wanna escape
Running away with you, dancing!
You’re my invisible accomplice, right?
Let’s keep this a secret forever, darling!
I won’t ask for too much.

I wanna escape,
So take me along with you, dancing!
It’ll be like we’re in a fairy tale.
Let’s stay side-by-side as long as we can, darling!
It’ll be a happy end if we’re together.

Try

Request: Can you do #6 with Yugyeom please? ^^ Maybe angst but ends fluffy?

6) “My nightmares usually involve losing you.”

Member: Got7′s Yugyeom x Y/N

Type: angst/fluff


Your lids were heavy as you ran your fingers through Yugyeom’s hair for what had to have been the thousandth time. You had been cautiously waiting for his breathing to steady and shifting to halt after he had climbed into bed beside you hours ago. He had found difficulty sleeping for months and you had joked that only BamBam could comfort his fears of the dark. Of course he had insisted he didn’t have any fears to begin with. 

You looked warily to the sleeping form of BamBam, not terribly far from the full mattress you were cuddled upon. You smiled fondly upon the man, not much older than your own boyfriend, and looked back down. They had to have been your favorite people on the planet. 

So what you were doing was the right decision…wasn’t it?

You cautiously rocked the mattress, unsurprised when Yugyeom only grumbled sleepily and flopped over. Once asleep, he was normally a pretty sound sleeper, having adapted to taking advantage of what rest he could. You slowly slid atop the sheets, attempting to create as little motion as possible as you pushed away from them. Your feet plopped onto the floor, causing you to instantly shiver from the cold of the hardwood. You bit you lip and held your breath as the bed creaked, releasing your weight from it’s springs. 

It took a moment for you to calm your breathing as you stood between the two beds. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and caused the pounding of your own heart to echo in your ear drums. You closed your eyes tightly before reopening them again and nodded to yourself. You were making the right decision. 

You had been dating Yugyeom for a few months now, accidentally winning his heart around the same time the JYP dating ban had been lifted. Upon moving to Korea, you never had intentions of looking for love, especially with a pop idol. You had bumped into him one day during a shift at the small cafe you had worked at, spilling coffee all over both of you. As you had dabbed at his white pants (seriously, who owned white pants?) you had unintentionally dabbed your way into his heart. 

You had underestimated how lovable he was, but then again, maybe he had done the same for you. In no time, you had become inseparable. He quickly introduced you to his members who had taken you in as one of their own. You became a constant fixture at their dorm, but soon felt the ware your presence caused. 

Since the days in which you became more serious, you had noticed the added stress you had provided to the Got7 members. While Yugyeom loved his group, the music, and dancing, he seemed to love something just as equally those days. 

You. 

You had tried to ignore them at first, the side eyes from Jaebum and Jinyoung when you entered a room. The men in which you were initially so close to now knew you as a distraction. You constantly argued with Yugyeom about appearing during dance practices, but he wanted you there, so you tried to become as small and uninteresting as possible. The theory seemed fine in your mind, but it wouldn’t take long for Yugyeom to fall off task and get scolded by one of his hyungs as soon as you appeared. He was a pro at trying to impress you, but his members were exhausted by his antics. Antics that you had unintentionally encouraged simply by your existence. 


Earlier that week, after promising to make the members dinner, you had unwittingly walked in on a team meeting. The tension was thick in the living area as you remained frozen in the entryway, popping off your shoes and struggling with grocery bags. You had taken a deep breath, ready to call out to the boys to help you, but stopped yourself. You hissed as if you were a deflated balloon, swallowing your yell as you heard Jaebum’s annoyed voice echo down the hallway. 

“If being in a relationship is making you break focus, maybe we should reinstate the ban,” he growled. “You aren’t going to take the group down because you can’t control your hormones.”

The rest of the members remained silent as Jaebum spoke, most eerily, the usually excited voice of Yugyeom. 

“Now, if you can’t balance the two, it’s time to break it off,” JB continued. “You’re young. You have the rest of eternity to find love. but only a small amount of time to work and make money.”

You had closed your eyes and leaned over, pulling open the front door quietly again. You opened your eyes before slamming it and clearing your throat, feigning your reentrance. “Hey guys! Can someone help me?”

You heard JB mutter a quick “Get it together” before several members appeared, sad smiles on their faces. You nodded knowingly, passing bag after bag to the group before Yugyeom appeared, a distinct puffiness characterizing his eyes. 

You couldn’t cause the group strife anymore. 

You didn’t blame his members. They were right. Your presence had been unintentionally sabotaging their own careers for some time now and you would no longer be responsible. 


You leaned over, grabbing a few pieces of clothing you recognized as your own and tossed them into your overnight bag. You were careful to avoid the rows and rows of BamBam’s shoes lined against the wall as you tiptoed about, straining your eyes in the darkness to locate the items you had accumulated in the bedroom over the past few months. You leaned over, grabbing a t-shirt you had originally thought was your own, but upon further inspection noticed was Yugyeom’s. You balled up the shirt, prepared to drop it on the floor, but you were unable to loosen your fingers. Instead, you lifted the thin fabric to your face and buried your nose deep into the cotton. Taking a deep breath in, you inhaled Yugyeom’s scent, a mix of clean laundry and facial cleansers. 

You struggled with your own will as you stood there, foolishly looming above your boyfriend while simultaneously smelling his clothing. You would laugh at yourself on any other occasion, but currently you felt as if you could cry. You had to do this if you truly cared about him. You couldn’t stand in the way of his career any longer. 

You tossed his t-shirt into your bag after a moment of struggling with your thoughts. He wouldn’t miss it. 

You continued to hurry around the room, tossing item after item into your bag. You hadn’t realized how many things you had left in the dorm until this very moment. With an overflowing bag and a chest heavy with emotion, you pulled open the bedroom door and sidestepped into the hallway. You ignored the glowing lights flooding from various bedrooms as you struggled by and plopped your bag by the front door as you began to dig for your shoes. It wasn’t a small task as you dug through piles of sneakers long since abandoned by the boys. 

Just as you set sight on your flats, you held your breath as you heard an unsteady pair of feet padding down the hall. 

“J-jagi?” Yugyeom’s sleepy voice growled. You looked up, wide eyed as he flipped on a small lamp near the doorway. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, not sure of where to direct your attention. Yugyeom was adorable, which broke your heart even more. His hair stuck up in matted and odd directions and a loose tank top hung from his tall frame. He looked like a small boy standing before you, woken up from a bad dream. 

“Are you going home?” he yawned, scrubbing a hand through his hair again. 

‘Ye-yeah,” you stuttered, adjusting your gaze to the floor so you wouldn’t have to look at him. 

“Did you forget something, I think Jinyoung has extra toothbrushes just in-”

“No Yugyeom,” you whispered, feeling tears begin to prickle your eyes. “I didn’t forget anything.”

“Then why are you leaving?” he asked, tilting his head innocently. 

“Why’d you wake up?” you countered gently. 

“I…um…I couldn’t sleep,” he hummed, his mouth forming an embarrassed smile. “I…I had a bad dream.” 

“What about?” you continued. You wanted to talk about anything but you leaving. He couldn’t know you weren’t coming back. 

You realized what a coward you were, but this was the only way. 

“Well…I had a dream that you had left,” he chuckled uneasily. “To be honest, my nightmares usually involve losing you.” 

“Why aren’t you two in bed?” a deep voice grumbled. You jumped, looking past Yugyeom to see JB standing behind him, arms crossed and face stoic. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you whispered, avoiding his eye contact as well. The last thing you wanted to do was anger the leader anymore than you had previously. 

“Then try,” he said simply. Yugyeom nodded, offering up little argument as he sleepily tottered back down the hallway and into his bedroom. You winced as you scooted your overnight bag toward the wall and dropped your shoes again. You shuffled toward JB, beginning to move past him when you felt his muscular hand grab your wrist. 

“Try,” he repeated with a small nod. He smiled for a moment, not necessarily directing it toward you. “I know we’re difficult…but he deserves for you to try.” 

“Jaebum,” you argued quietly, your eyes lingering up from the floor to find his face. His own eyes were kind as he watched over you. “But you-”

“I’m the biggest pain,” he nodded. “But the first one to let you know, he needs you. As much as we hate seeing him lovesick, we’d hate seeing him heartbroken even more. Just try.” 

You chuckled to yourself, nodding at Jaebum as well. “Just so we’re clear…”

“No, I don’t want you to leave,” JB hummed in monotone. “Now go to bed.” 

JB gently squeezed your wrist again before releasing it and pushing you gently back down the hallway. 

You eased into Yugyeom and BamBam’s bedroom, noting that Yugyeom had flipped on a small lamp near his bed as a night light. 

You walked as quietly as you could past BamBam who was still completely passed out on his mattress, snoring quietly along to the light music he had pulsing near his bed. You smiled as you looked from him to Yugyeom, hopping over the hard wood to climb into bed. 

You settled into his open arms, nested into his neck, and closed your eyes. 

“Why were you leaving?” Yugyeom cooed after a few moments of silence. You had hoped he would have dropped the question. 

“I…I forgot something,” you stuttered, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Mmm, then why did you decide to stay?” he whispered. 

You smiled to yourself, knowing Yugyeom couldn’t see your expression, but content with your answer nonetheless. “Because Jaebum let me know I had it after all.”

Originally posted by wangmins

Modern Animorphs AU (part 2)

@jollysunflora : The second half of my complete list of modern AU Animorphs headcanons, approximately one per book.  

28. “Ax,” Marco says, “How come you can roll out ‘venti dulce de leche dark-chocolate frappuchino extra whip’ without batting an eye, but you giggle every time you have to say the word ‘soy’?”

  • “It has so many vowel—owl?—sounds, in so little space,” Ax says.  “That long sssssssssss, so pleasant on the tongue, but then that odd oooyyy ooy-yah?  All in the back of the mouth.  Very strange.  Sssoooy.  Ssususs-oooyaaa.”
  • “Also, he’s moved on from the frappuchinos,” Tobias adds.  “Now he keeps spending all our hard-stolen bitcoins on espresso mack… mach…”
  • “Espresso macchiato con panna,” Ax explains.  “Doppio.”

29. Cassie feels herself sweating as she props the laptop across the room from her, tools laid out and Ax unconscious on the table.  She never expected to find a YouTube video on how to perform brain surgery—and to be honest, it’s actually about “how neurosurgeons perform an orbitozygomatic craniotomy,” not intended to be a how-to manual—but it’s the best she can do under the circumstances, and so she’ll follow along for now.  

MM3.  “That’s the kind of strong leadership we need.”  Jake gestures to the full-color television (this year’s latest model) where a program of their current leader plays on a loop.  “Keeping the wrong kind of people out of this country, saving America for the right kind of Americans.”

  • “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rachel says.  She and Tobias and Jake are the only three Animorphs, except when Melissa joins them sometimes, and listening to their “Supreme Leader” blather on gets old sometimes.  “All I want to know is whether it’s true that within a few years people will really have phones that plug into their cars.  That’d be cool.”
  • Tobias rubs his eyes against the silk of his wing feathers.  They itch constantly, since he doesn’t have a gas mask to wear every time he goes out into the pollution-opaque air outside the way that his human friends do.  Jake and Rachel take bets sometimes, idly, brutally, about whether he’s the last raptor left on the face of the planet.
  • “Magnificent!”  Drode appears in their midst, and both the Berensons immediately point guns at his head.

30. Marco is lying on his bed the day after watching Eva fall, staring at a patch of wall above his dresser, when he registers that his phone has been buzzing for a while now.  It goes off so many times he assumes he has to be getting a call, but when he checks his notifications he just discovers he’s gotten seventeen text messages in the last hour.  

  • The first is from “Smurfette,” and says “Did you know that there is a type of food that involves baking a cinnamon bun inside of a donut?  We must secure as many of these as it is possible for a human to consume, as soon as possible!”
  • The next one, from “Hawkgirl,” reads: “found out recently that apparently ax still thinks you invented flea powder.  i told him that if youd invented flea powder wed all be a lot richer right now.”
  • “Team Dad” (not to be confused with “Real Dad,” which is how Marco lists Peter) sent along several invitations to team missions on League of Legends this afternoon, along with a threat to have Cassie play Marco’s avatar if Marco doesn’t join in.  “we both know that by the time you get back you’ll have only healing attacks and she’ll have trained it to apologize automatically for stabbing people,” Jake adds.
  • One of the many texts from “Julia Butterfly Hill” suggests that Jake has underestimated Cassie’s diabolical streak, because it’s a screenshot of a clone of his account which has had its name changed to HarambeWasFramed.
  • The real surprise, however, is the single text from “Xena: Warrior Princess.”  It’s a link to an article about a disaster in the local national park and the efforts to clean up the wreckage of an as-yet-unidentified craft which went down in the canyon.  Marco has to read it a few times to understand the point she’s making, because it’s all about what’s not there: the article makes no mention of any human bodies being found among the wreckage.  
  • Marco gets halfway through typing a reply to them all which informs them in no uncertain terms that he sees through their transparent attempts to cheer him up and doesn’t appreciate it, but he deletes without sending.  He can practically hear his mom’s voice saying it: he can focus on the fact that he’s still surrounded by people who love him, or he can focus on the negative side of everything.  And being constantly negative is no way to live.  

31. “Sharing this again, because its been 3 months,” Jake’s cousin Brooke posts on Facebook.  “Anyone who has any news at all about Saddler, no matter what it is, PLEASE contact my family.  Big brother, I dont know if youre still out there, but I miss you.  I miss you like crazy.”

  • Jake turns up his Spotify’s Offspring channel a little louder to drown out the sounds of Tom and his dad shouting at each other downstairs.  His eyes flinch past Brooke’s post, but they can’t move fast enough to prevent the thought that flashes across the surface of his mind: Is this going to be me a year from now?

32. Tobias texts Rachel and Jake an article from Audubon.Org, where several birdwatchers are going into ecstasies of scientific fascination at the bald eagle and peregrine falcon seen flying in close formation in a cell-phone video taken near a highway overpass downtown.  His only comment is, “Told you so.”

33.  In the aftermath, Rachel does a Google search: “PTSD treatment symptoms outcomes.”  She reads through the WebMD site, the NIMH page, the Wikipedia link to a DSM-5 entry.  She thinks of Tobias’s withdrawn silences, his antipathy toward so much they used to enjoy, but she thinks of other things as well.  How exhausted Jake seems any time they’re not on-mission.  How badly Cassie flinches when the school bell rings and doors slam.  How Ax seems to be gradually losing interest in the things—cooking shows, new condiments, human history trivia, These Messages—that once drew his fascination.  How last week Marco flicked an ant off the back of his hand and then went white like he’d just kicked a puppy.  How good it had felt when she’d hurt David, spreading the pain around, giving it back.

  • She catches an Uber to the clinic downtown, filling out forms in the waiting room based on the checklist written on her phone for “how to get tobias an ssri”: Yes, she often feels tense and worried.  Yes, her heart often races for no reason.  No, she hasn’t thought of ending her life.  No, she doesn’t feel out of control when she eats.  
  • She gets as far as developing a cover story—it’s about how she’s never felt the same since her parents’ divorce—but in the hallway to the office she panics and calls Cassie.  “Am I doing the right thing?” she asks, after she’s explained.
  • Cassie is silent for a long time, never a good sign.  “I’m not sure an SSRI would work on a bird,” she says at last, “and that’s even if we could figure out a dose that would work without killing him.  I know you want to help, and I think you should, but…”
  • Rachel hears what she’s not saying: but what if her mom asks too many questions?  But is this risk really worth it?  But what if the psychiatrist (the receptionist, the pharmacist) is a controller?  But isn’t it them, and only them, against the world, and isn’t that just how it has to be?
  • “The war won’t last forever,” Cassie says weakly, and Rachel hates her a little for it.  “When it’s over, when we get to tell everyone what’s happening…”
  • Rachel hangs up.  She goes home, morphs, and flies out to the woods.  
  • «You know I love you, right?» she asks Tobias later that evening.
  • «Of course I do.»  He sounds exhausted.  She’s never felt more helpless in her life.

34. The Yeerk Peace Movement, as it comes out, has a Twitter feed.  It is rather painfully obvious that it has been set up and run entirely by aliens who are doing their very best to communicate with humans, and not quite succeeding. Most of the posts are couplets, for some reason that none of the Animorphs can fathom.  

  • “Want to be On Fleek? When you see someone’s rights threatened, speak!”
  • “Don’t be a Belieber anymore - end slavery and even the score.”
  • “#tbt: Remember when we were symbiotes?  Give taxxon freedom your sympathy votes!”
  • “Nickelback is super lame, and keeping involuntary hosts is just the same.”
  • “Respect your host’s rights today, and make your human into your bae!”

35. It’s Marco who comes up with the idea for how to take down William Roger Tennant.  This is a guy, after all, whose cockatiels have their own Instagram account: he runs his fame on the internet.  

  • “It’s simple,” Marco explains. “We start a hashtag—#notsonicetennant—and we make it go viral.  All we have to do is film this guy everywhere he goes, and eventually the yeerk will slip up.”
  • It proves not to be simple after all.  Their gif of Tennant twitching madly mid-EPA speech gets overshadowed by the news story about One Direction nearly getting poisoned with spiders at the same banquet. Ax does not understand the concept of hashtag, and keeps adding #notsonicetennant to his retweets of what Marco calls “food porn.” They train one of Tobias’s repurposed GoPros to follow poodle-Marco, but that becomes a meme mocking the world’s most obnoxious stray dog rather than Tennant himself.
  • The plan finally, finally comes off when they pull out all the stops and just confront him in morph.  The smartphones that Rachel rigged up in the surrounding buildings don’t pick up the thought speak, but the audio of Tennant screaming at the aliens to leave him alone comes through just fine.
  • When the scandal breaks, the internet (in truly predictable fashion) drops #notsonicetennant and starts using #tennantgate instead.  
  • Ax reposts an old photo of Tennant eating a quinoa salad—zoomed in on the salad—and tags it #tennantgate.  All of his teammates assure him they appreciate the attempt.

36. “All right, that’s just weird,” Marco says, looking at the final entry in the underwater creepshow they’ve been walking through for the past hour.  “All the other ships have been getting more modern as we’ve gone, but this one?  Looks like it was made in the sixties, at the latest.”

  • «The world’s creepiest museum curators are getting sloppy with the placement of bodies as well,» Tobias points out.  «There’s no way that many people could fit on a boat that small.  They’re practically falling over the sides.»
  • Jake and Cassie look at each other, seeing the same realization reflected in each other’s eyes.  Neither one of them wants to say it out loud.
  • Jake becomes the one to bite the bullet.  “Don’t you get it?”  He points to the ragged clothes, the emaciated bodies, the modern smartphone tucked in among the antiquated radio equipment.  “They were refugees.”

37. Rachel shuts the window on the library computer as soon as she hears someone walk into the room, but she can tell she was too late by the look on Jake’s face when she turns around.  

  • “Roy Ludvig, huh?” Jake says.  “Heck of a name.”
  • “He was at the T.V. studio when we attacked.”  Rachel looks down, picking at her nail polish.  “No civilians were supposed to be in danger.”
  • Jake’s expression softens, as much as it ever does.  “And now you’re scrolling through his Facebook, looking for something that’ll let you sleep at night.”  
  • “He’s got a grandson,” Rachel blurts.  “Jordan’s age.  He…”  She shrugs.  He’s dead, and it’s more or less her fault.
  • “Shouldn’t be looking on Facebook.”  Jake sets his phone on the library table next to her, taps the screen to bring up an official-looking report.  “You should be, say, borrowing my dad’s computer.  Sending an email from his account to ask for the guy’s medical records.  If you had, you’d know that Mr. Roy Ludvig had a heart condition.  That he had maybe a year to live, at most, and doctors said he might die at any old time.”
  • Rachel looks down at the report for a long time, and eventually looks up at Jake.  “Doesn’t make it okay, what I did,” she says.  “He’s still dead.”
  • Jake shrugs.  “You don’t have to forget it ever happened, but you do have to live with it.  Live, and fight another day.”

38. In the aftermath of Estrid’s visit, Tobias is flying over the boardwalk when he sees a henna artist who clearly smokes way too much pot to be a Yeerk. He gets Ax, they morph human, and both get henna tattoos of Elfangor’s name. (Ax had previously expressed an admiration for the human tradition of commemorating a lost loved one by making markings on one’s body.) They know the tats will disappear when they demorph, but they’re both glad they did it. The artist asks how long they’ve been together, and Tobias says in a scandalized voice, “he’s my UNCLE!” Thus, Tobias succeeds in both of his goals: making Ax laugh, and reminding him he has family here on Earth. Honestly, the reminder doesn’t hurt Tobias either.

39. “You know, not all squirrels are like that,” Marco is fond of saying after a morph goes wrong.  “Not all termites are horrifying worker drones.”  Sometimes it’s, “You know, some of my best friends are fleas.”

  • It’s Cassie, however, who gets the last laugh out of that one.  «You know, Marco,» she says as they swim away from the wreckage of the helicopter, «Not all ants are like that, right?  I shouldn’t say that all ants are killers, right?»
  • Marco stares at her in silence while the others snicker, watching him war between the two impulses: to keep the joke going forever, and to express his honest hatred of ants.  
  • «Come on.»  And now Rachel has joined in on the teasing.  «You’re just going to let that kind of besmirching of the ant community stand?»  
  • «Okay, okay!»  Marco gives in.  «Ants suck.  Yes, all ants!»

40. “Our experts have examined the video extensively, and near as we can conclude, this footage is genuine and unedited,” the newscaster says.  “Given how viral this video has proven to be, with over two million views since it was posted to YouTube on Wednesday, everyone wants to know: is this footage proof that aliens exist?  Is this a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fantastic Beasts sequel?  Or, as one YouTube commenter asks, did a Smurf just have sex with a centaur?”

  • «Potential new ally?» Tobias suggests.  He’s already tapping out a search for the original video in his modified tablet.
  • Ax laughs.  «Of course not.  He’s crippled.  A vecol.  Useless.  We must respect the privacy of his isolation.»
  • “You know what?  Fuck that,” Marco snaps.  He shoves to his feet, posture tight with anger.  “Just… Fuck that,” he tells Ax.  “I have ADHD.  Attention Deficit whateverthefuck.  I take a pill every morning to help me function because my brain isn’t good enough to filter stimuli all by itself.  I got a fucking 135 on the world’s most boring IQ test and I’m still failing half my classes.  I’m a vecol.  You think I’m useless, huh?  You gonna start refusing to talk to me because of some bullshit about ‘respecting’ my ‘privacy’?  Huh?”
  • «That’s different,» Ax says.  «You’re not…»  He doesn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence.  
  • «If he’s an exception, I hope I am too,» Tobias says more gently.  «I got screened for anxiety disorders as a kid, and I guess we’ll never know if I qualify or not, ‘cause my aunt decided that doctors cost money and if the test said I needed one then she didn’t want to know about it.»
  • Ax doesn’t answer for a long time.  He doesn’t seem to know where to look.  
  • «Let’s go tell the others what we found.»  Tobias taps a button to send the video to himself.  «We can talk more about this later.»

MM4. Tobias flinches when his phone makes the small ping sound that means he has an alert.  The new kid is the easy target in every school on the planet.  He wonders what it’ll be this time: another Facebook post where the semi-anonymous account Toby IsALoser tags him in another meme about how he has to pay people for sex because the sight of his body would make any normal girl run away screaming, another unnamed Instagram ping telling him he should kill himself so that no one has to look at his stupid fat face anymore, another Snapchat image of a puddle of vomit with the caption “me when I think of you,” an email with the most disgusting gif anyone could find after a quick search…

  • It’s not, though.  It’s an invite to join a private Facebook group, called The Sharing, with several hundred local members.  Most of the names Tobias recognizes are cool older kids from the high school.  Intrigued, willing to trust for the moment that this isn’t some ridiculously elaborate prank, Tobias clicks “join.”  

41. Jake looks around at the enormous open field, concrete pitted with openings and low hovels of corrugated steel and rebar.  He can see for nearly half a mile in every direction before the smog makes it impossible, and the tallest things around are the hunched hork-bajir.  “Where are we?” he asks.

  • Cassie frowns.  “This?  Jake, this is downtown Manhattan.”
  • He gapes at her.  “What happened to it?”
  • “Tall buildings are targets for drone strikes,” she says casually, turning away.  “The only way to be safe was to go underground.”

42. Marco doesn’t bother going to the house of the guy who photographed them, nor does he try to catch the kid before he uploads the video anywhere.  Instead he waits for the image to appear on YouTube, then becomes the first commenter.  “Sweet manip!” he says.  “Is that Photoshop, or can you do that in free programs like Gimp?”

43.  “EarthIsOurs-dot-tumblr-dot-com?” Marco says incredulously.  “What does Taylor do there, post pictures of her pet taxxon?  Reblog plans for planetary domination?”

  • «Judging from her archive history, she’s had this blog for many years,» Ax says.  «She recently changed the domain name, but some of the content on here is from as early as 2008.»
  • Jake and Marco get caught up in debating with Cassie about what exactly to send to her, but Tobias just scrolls quietly through Taylor’s old posts.  She didn’t lie about being beautiful, he realizes, or about being popular.  There’s a long blank period in her tumblr account in mid-2014.  And then she posted one selfie—just one—after the fire.  
  • He can’t bring himself to read the names that the trolls call her, or the discussions about how much money they’d have to be paid to have sex with her.  But there’s no overlooking the suggestions that she kill herself.  The posts are too numerous, too vitriolic.  
  • “Every chick ever to wander onto the internet has gotten that crap,” Rachel says; clearly she’s been reading over his shoulder.  “She should’ve developed thick skin, not joined the Sharing.”
  • Tobias thinks of the Facebook page made at his old school just to discuss the fact that he’s a chubby zit-face, of the posts which eventually overwhelmed his Instagram with death threats.  «Yeah, I guess,» he says.

44.  It takes a long time for Cassie to get home from Australia, but at least they’re not too worried for most of that time; she texts them her location and a brief description of the insanity that landed her in the Outback as soon as she gets in contact with Yami’s family.

45.  “None of this makes any sense,” Peter says.  “I’m hallucinating, or you’re delusional, or else—”

  • Marco sets his phone in Peter’s lap. “Check the timestamp, Dad.  I took that six months ago.”
  • Peter stares at the phone for a long minute, and then slowly looks up at Marco.  At a clear loss for words, he tilts his head back toward the screen.
  • “I know.”  Marco laughs, the sound wet with tears.  “That blond wig looks terrible on her.  But it’s really her, Dad.  I swear.”

46. “So they’re going to get the U.S. embroiled in another war,” Marco says.  “And this one with a country that can actually fight back.”

  • «Seems like,» Tobias says.  «Only why bother with all the secrecy and political wrangling?  Why not just send a couple mean tweets to Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un?  That’d probably do the job just as well.»
  • “No, it wouldn’t.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking around at them all.  “The yeerks need a total war.  Everything the U.S. and its allies can pull out, against everything China and its allies can muster.  Our military has gotten too used to sending drones to fight its wars, to ‘tactical strikes’ against insurgents.  If the yeerks want half the species annihilated, they have to do a lot more than poke a couple of egos.”

47. “News flash,” Marco says.  “Your average suburbanite ain’t gonna accept a seven-foot-tall alien for a neighbor.  You know the number of times my mom’s been asked for proof of citizenship before she was allowed to vote or cash a paycheck or buy a car?  How many times she’s been pulled over by cops while driving the speed limit with her seatbelt on?  And she’s a regular old human being.  Toby’s right—the hork-bajir have a whole other fight coming if we ever win the war.”  

48. Rachel feels the blood drain from her face when she opens the Facebook message and sees the name attached.  David’s Facebook account has been defunct for almost two years now; there’s no one left who would want or even be able to access it from the outside.  Should be no one.

  • Miss me? the message from David’s account says.
  • Who are you? she types with shaking fingers.  What do you want?
  • I know what you did.  I’m coming for you.  I’ve got friends all over the place and they’ll find you.  They’ll kill you.  Amazing the allies you can get, when you know where the bodies are kept.  On the internet, no one knows you’re a—
  • Rachel hits “block.”  She tells herself that the screaming nightmares she has all that night and into the next are the product of having a stressful life, she’s an Animorph for pete’s sake.
  • She doesn’t stop shuddering every time she gets a message for the next two weeks, but she never hears from whoever (It wasn’t David. It couldn’t have been.) it was ever again.

49.  They stagger away from yet another hopeless fight, all of them injured, half of them missing limbs or bleeding to death.  Dragging their damaged bodies behind the first dumpster they find, they demorph, remorph, and force their minds to focus long enough for the long flight home.  It’s only when Rachel is in owl morph, staring around the dimly lit alleyway, that she sees the security camera pointed directly at their location.  

  • «They must not check it that often,» Marco says without much hope.  «Or else they’d be out here already to come looking for us.»
  • «Doesn’t matter,» Tobias says harshly.  «It had a perfectly clear view of all your human faces.  And that building is owned by the yeerks.»
  • They all stare at each other in dull shock as the realization sinks in.  They always knew this moment was coming—they could only be so careful for so long—and yet, on some level each of them hoped it never would.  
  • «Take one more night to be with your families,» Jake says at last.  «We evacuate everyone in the morning.»
  • Jake loses his phone, again, somewhere amidst all the chaos.  This time around he doesn’t bother to replace it.  It’s not like his mom is going to be wondering where he is, not anymore.  

50.  “So,” Jake says, “this is going to sound crazy, but—”

  • “Aliens are invading the planet, and you’re the only kid terrorist who can stop them?” James suggests.  “We do have wifi up here, you know.  You’re Jake Berenson, right?  You’re all over the conspiracy theorists’ forums right now.”
  • “Um.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, starts again.  “Yeah, pretty much.”
  • James nods.  “In that case, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince me your story’s not a load of crap before I call security.”  

51. Ax secures their wifi in something a billion times better-hidden than Tor.  With that reassurance, they all end up starting blogs.

  • Marco’s is a rambling string of wry comments about everything from the invasion to his parents’ science projects.  Sample post: “Insider source (aka my mom): Visser Three has morphed human and eaten AN ENTIRE BAG OF MARSHMALLOWS in one sitting, ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION.  Pass it on!”
  • Jake’s is the place that people go to find out how they can help, and to get his reassurance that the help means something.  Sample post: “As Barack Obama says, ‘We the people recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom without a commitment to others is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense.’  This fight will never be over just as long as we keep supporting each other.  I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you all for the KickStarter donations.”
  • Rachel’s has beauty tips for the American girl on the run, light and self-deprecating enough that you often don’t notice the undercurrent of desperation.  Sample post: “If you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror, try fixing your hair using reflective surfaces such as pots, ponds, or pieces of Bug fighter wreckage.  Alternately, just say ‘fuck it’ and never look at yourself again.”
  • Cassie’s tells people how to stay safe, and how to keep their environments safe as well.  Sample post: “Everyone please remember, it’s important to stock enough food and water for family pets as well as humans when retreating to an apocalypse bunker!”
  • Tobias’s has a lot of good-natured grumbling about everyday life in the valley.  Sample post: “In other news, my girlfriend’s mom is currently arguing with the smartest being on the face of the planet about where to put the new latrine facilities.  Sorry Naomi, but my money’s on Toby.”
  • Ax’s has a lot of food reviews, of course, but again there’s that undercurrent of desperation, almost like he’s trying to convince someone else (or maybe even himself) that humans are worth saving.  Sample post: “Marco assures me that there are no less than 23 distinct flavors contained within every sip of Dr. Pepper.  Just think of the years of experimentation and innovation it must have required to produce a drink which can inspire 23 different reactions from human taste buds, all at the same time.  Truly inspired genius.”

52. They run drills upon drills for what to do in case of a drone strike.  Using any morphs they have that can dig or build—mole, taxxon, elephant, beaver—the Animorphs create an extensive network of tunnels and shelters, posting guards at all times to keep their eyes on the sky.  The hork-bajir valley doesn’t show up on satellite imagery, which they only know thanks to Peter’s definitely-illegal fact-gathering missions on the darkweb, but they don’t know for sure whether an overhead camera would be subject to the same strange perceptual distortions they all experience when flying there as birds.  They nearly lose their precious secrecy when Naomi sends several emails from her work account, claiming she’s being held hostage and asking anyone who will listen to come rescue her.  Eva generates a hasty follow-up from the same account asking people to ignore “the prank that I now realize was in poor taste,” but none of them are sure it worked for the next several days.  

53. Rachel makes one last post on her nearly-extinct Instagram account.  This time the scrap of paper she uses appears to be torn from the back of a food label, but the penciled script is as intricate as ever.  It reads “Who wants to live forever? —Freddie Mercury, 1986”  

54. After it’s all over, Tobias retreats, he hides, but he keeps a thread of communication open.  Cassie shoots him an email with the subject line “Hawk patient with intermittent aggression and lethargy—any idea what could be causing it?”  Marco sends him idiotic memes that now feature the Animorphs’ names and faces.  Ax asks for constant updates on the new wing of Taco Bell being built downtown, and repays the favor by leaking confidential information about the search for the Blade ship.

  • And then he gets one of the stranger emails he’s ever received.  It’s an offer of a full legacy scholarship to Harvard University (which has just found the means to explain some inconsistencies in the records of one “Alan Fangor,” who graduated in the ‘80s) in exchange for Tobias teaching one class per semester on any subject of his choice.  He agrees, with the stipulation that all his classes be online.
  • The resultant course (Ornithology 442: An Insider’s Perspective) is like nothing the students who participate have ever seen before.  Tobias will write out rambling treatises on Why Blue Jays Suck or All the Ways Hawks Are Superior to Eagles with a thought-speak-to-text recorder.  He’ll deliver online lectures from a shaky webcam pointed into a nonspecific tree, occasionally wandering off for hours at a time to go hunting.  Students who ask him personal questions about Rachel get regurgitated mouse skeletons Fed-Exed to their campus mailboxes.  Essays that don’t demonstrate much effort get feedback such as “even I can tell this sucks and I have a seventh-grade education” or “my grandmother could make better sentences than this AND SHE’S AN ANDALITE WHO DOESN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.”  Assignments include “find one bird fact in a textbook and explain why it’s a load of crap” or “go film a Boston pigeon until it does something interesting, I dare you.”
  • Nevertheless, enrollment is so popular that Harvard has a three-year waiting list and charges students an extra $500 just to sign up.  When Tobias finds out about the extra fee, he promptly video-calls the Intrepid, gives Ax remote access to his computer, and explains why he needs Ax to convert the course illegally to a MOOC.  Harvard University fires him for breach of contract; Yale hires him on that very same afternoon.  

part 1 here 

The Two Sherlocks

For the World’s Most Patient Anon:  What if Sherlock is captured by Eurus (?) and the reader must solve her puzzle in order to save him - with whatever little she’s learned from being with him. She must decide who is the real Sherlock in a room with two; shoot one or die all together.

Thank you so much to this amazing Anon for this amazing idea and for holding me to task. I strayed a bit from the request, so I hope you don’t mind! And thank you to the gorgeous and talented @igottomuchfreetimeonmyhands who dropped everything to help me finish it! 

Without further ado, I give you my first story in months: THE TWO SHERLOCKS

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Your inbox is open, yaaaaay~! May I request headcanons or scenarios where Reaper, 76, and poly!Roadrat have a super small s/o? I'm talking like, 5 feet. You can do just one if you want. I really love my tallbois.

Reaper

He constantly teases you about it. Like this man is a foot taller than you, he loves to goad that over you

You are amorcito and pollito and chiquita and sirenita, all nicknames that indicate you are small and cute. You wanna be upset about it but they’re sweet and the way he smirks when he says them to you

He doesn’t underestimate you though, he grew up around fierce, short women and even in his teasing he’s still respectful of you. He also knows that if you explode, he better run though

You are constantly in his lap because he likes having his tiny little s/o in his lap and nuzzling the top of your head

Soldier: 76

This overprotective man is so worried about his tiny lover, like can you say mother hen? He fusses and you take it in stride, rolling your eyes at him 

When you are angry he listens to your concerns and listens and when you are calm and he has fixed what was wrong, it’s a gentle teasing of how cute you are when you’re angry

He enjoys throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you around and at first you’ll protest but it’s sweet and he’s holding you close and you love it

poly Roadrat

((So my OC Ava’s height is 5′1″ so this was the easiest one for me to do lol))

When the boys don’t have their weapons on, you are constantly riding their back, they absolutely love to feel you holding onto them. Mako cradles you in his arms a lot, especially if there’s a lot of trekking going on. It’s difficult for your short legs to keep up with their long steps. 

Jamison has a million nicknames for how tiny and cute you are and he never tires of telling you how small you are compared to him and Hog and you just giggle and smile at him. Hog typically calls you shortstuff or shortcake, both said in a very sweet manner

Jamison constantly puts you on his shoulders so you can actually reach Roadhog’s mask or lips without having to beg the man to bend down. Now, Roadhog has absolutely no problem bending over but you like feeling tall and he loves to run around with you on there before giving in for kisses

You can scramble up their bodies with no issue, the vests they wear making that fairly easy to do

In dangerous situations, neither one of them would pause, picking you up and tucking you under their arm and running with you. Mako has taken both you and Jamison under his arms before taking off running

Both love to throw you and toss you into the air, you love it because it’s fun and because you can play a tiny lookout. Mako has no problem throwing you several meters into the air so you can get a look of the environment, you never concerned that he might drop you

Transparant Crystalline Solid (3)

Bucky Barnes x (enhanced)Reader

Notes: (the usual) troubled pasts, swearing, smut, fluff, angst/heartbreak.

A/N: All new! I had inspiration slap me straight across the face, and here we are! This one might hurt a little, but y’all know me, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

Summary: Bucky has charm, looks, a great smile, and he knows how to talk to a lady. The thing is, he does know it. Bucky’s a womaniser, there’s no doubt about it. But when he lays eyes upon the newest addition to the team, he might’ve found a reason to change his ways. Unfortunately, he knows he’s a coward, and he knows change isn’t easy. Lying.. is so much easier.

Ice: frozen water, a brittle transparent crystalline solid.

Originally posted by daniel-wellington


Within minutes the living room is crowded, everyone sitting at their usual spots, which somehow formed in harmony amongst everyone. Tony is in his chair, Pepper on one of the armrests, Steve is in one corner of the couch, Natasha next to him, Wanda next to her, Vision ending the row on the other end of the couch. Clint is perched up on one of the beams hanging from the ceiling -which Tony denies placing there for him especially- Sam sitting with Maria on the ‘love seat’, Bruce alone in a recliner resembling Tony’s. Bucky himself is on the window-seat, staring at the team, a bunch of misfits, really, wondering how it al became so harmonious.

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@stardreamerlove sent me this amazing prompt for all injured paladins and no working pods and Lance ignoring his injuries to tend to the others until he collapses

Sorry this took so long, love!

It was becoming common knowledge amongst the paladins that they did not do as well in hand-to-hand combat as compared to fighting with their lions. However, in some cases, attacking on foot seemed like a better option than attacking with the lions. 

They had come across a small Galra base on an abandoned planet. They wanted to try and find out any plans for the main Galra ship, so they decided to attack on foot while the castle hovered nearby in case of necessary assistance.

They had plotted and planned for two days, but when the day to attack came, they had quickly realized that they severely underestimated the amount of Galra in the base.

The fight was brutal; there were Galra at every corner, but whether it was sheer force or will, the paladins somehow won– but not without injury. They, as well as the castle, took a severe beating, especially Lance.

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Don’t You Doubt

Read on Ao3 here

Toni is kissing him.

Toni is kissing him.

And he’s kissing her back.

But it feels so… wrong. Jughead’s brain is fuzzy, and he’s unbelievably hurt by the words that Archie spoke to him earlier, but he still knows that what he’s doing isn’t right. He feels Toni’s lips on his, but all he can think about is Betty’s. And, when he pushes Toni away and sees her hurt expression, all he can see is Betty’s.

“You have to go,” Jughead hears himself saying. He casts his eyes downward, not wanting to witness Toni’s reaction. He is met with silence, so he says more firmly, “Now.” He pushes his chair back abruptly, cringing at the scraping noise it makes, and walks over to the door. When he opens it, he chances a glance at Toni. There remains a flicker of hurt in her features, but she gives him a firm nod anyway. Quietly, she gathers her jacket. But before she makes any move toward the door that Jughead is holding open, she looks back up at him.

“She doesn’t accept you, Juggie,” she says. “I know you’ve always wanted to think that she’s different, but she’s just like all those other Northsiders. Hasn’t she proved that today?”

Jughead clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t respond. “Toni…” he warns, tightening his grip on the door.

She walks slowly over to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t get you like I do. When you realize that, you know where to find me.” With that, Toni descends the steps of Jughead’s trailer. Before she can reach the bottom, though, a firm hand grabs her arm and whirls her around.

“No one,” Jughead says, his voice thick with emotion but unwavering, “will ever understand me like Betty Cooper does. You’re completely wrong about her.” After a pause, he adds, “And don’t call me Juggie.”

He registers the shock on Toni’s face, and all at once he realizes that maybe he should have seen this coming. All the signs were there: Toni staring at him, flirting with him, even right in front of Betty. It had to have been so obvious to her—his Nancy Drew, his brilliant investigator, never missing a detail of anything. He recalls the way she paused when he told her in his trailer that he had started working on the cipher with Toni, and now he thinks that she was probably hurting. But she didn’t tell him, of course, because she wanted to put her trust him; Betty, his greatest supporter, the girl who was understanding even when Toni said those untrue things about her, even when Jughead let her say those untrue things about her.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to see Toni’s face anymore. Jughead turns and walks back into his trailer, slamming the door behind him with no further explanation. He immediately sinks to the ground, his back to the door, and runs his hands through his hair. The tears come easily, and with them come all the feelings that he’s been pushing down for days.

He’s known for a while that his relationship was suffering. Apparently, he severely underestimated the extent of the problem, but he certainly isn’t surprised that his lies and denial have come back to haunt him. Jughead knows that he fibbed about the incident at school to protect Betty, to save her from unnecessary worry and pain, but that doesn’t change the fact that it marked the start of their open door of communication slowly closing. He caused a crack in the armor with that lie, and there’s no getting around that.

So it’s really no wonder, he thinks now, that Betty started lying to him too. He allows himself for the first time since Archie showed up at the trailer to remember the last time he saw her, in that lonely booth at Pop’s. There was a mutual understanding of falsehood there—a quiet agreement to leave out the details that would force them to address the reality of what was happening.

But then there was that moment. She spoke of running away, of Romeo and Juliet, and Jughead believes with everything in him that she meant it. He can’t dismiss the fact that he knows Betty, knows her better than he knows himself, maybe. So how could he have missed that she was looking for a way out of their relationship? How could what Archie said be true and that moment in the diner be real? They don’t make sense together.

Suddenly, Jughead feels sick. Guilt stabs him in the chest and spreads downward to his stomach, which he clutches tightly. He believed Archie, took him at his word. But not once in all his pain and anger and defeat did he think to talk to Betty herself. Maybe the words she said at Pop’s were true, and Archie’s were false. He thinks back to all the interactions he’s had with Betty over the past week, thinks about the I love yous they shared in his trailer not long ago. One of his favorite things about her has always been her tenacity—her refusal to give up, even when the situation seems impossible. And here he is, giving up on her at the drop of a hat.

Maybe he’s wrong, though. Maybe he’s been blinded by his love for Betty and hasn’t noticed the signs of her lack of affection.

But does Jughead want to risk this, risk her, on that chance?

He furiously wipes the tears from his face and pushes himself off the floor. Grabbing his sherpa jacket, he throws open the trailer door and marches to his bike. If Betty wants to end it with Jughead, she’ll have to tell him to his face.

It’s not long before his bike is parked outside her house and he’s making his way over to the ladder propped against her window. He briefly wonders why it’s still there, why she hasn’t moved it for fear of the Black Hood or to mark the finality of their break. But he pushes that thought down to focus on the task at hand.

When Jughead reaches the top of the ladder and knocks on her window, he can hear his heart beating erratically against his chest. He hasn’t felt this nervous since the first time he climbed this ladder, when he was debating whether or not he wanted to tell Betty what she meant to him. This moment is a far cry from that one, but Jughead doesn’t want to dwell on anything other than what he’s going to say to her when she opens the window. So he waits.

A few seconds seem like forever, but at last he sees her. She pulls the curtains back, and he struggles to keep in a sob that immediately rises in his throat when he takes in her appearance. Betty, his bright and beautiful girl with her brilliant smile, now looks like a ghost of who she once was. Her face is thinner, darker. Instead of the usual tight ponytail that Jughead has come to love, her hair is haphazardly pulled back into a low tie with careless strands flying everywhere. And her eyes—those eyes that always draw him in with their light—are completely clouded, as though a darkness has passed over them.

When Jughead notes her tearstained cheeks, it’s enough to break him. He lets out the cry that he’s been holding in and places a desperate hand on the barrier still standing between them. Betty’s tears are flowing too when she unlocks and raises the window, backing away with her hand covering her mouth as he makes the final climb into her room. All he wants to do is wrap her in the tightest hug he can muster, but he knows that he has to do what he came here for, so he stops himself.

“Betts…” he says. She closes her eyes as though she can’t bear to look at him. “Is it true?”

He doesn’t have to clarify what he’s talking about, because she instantly crumples. This time, Jughead doesn’t hesitate. He rushes to her and pulls her into a bruising hug. She doesn’t reciprocate, and at first he thinks that she’s about to tell him to go away. But then she melts into his grip, sobbing, and he guesses that she’s just too weak to return it right now.

“Betty,” he says softly once she’s quieted down. “Look at me.” She stiffens in his arms, and Jughead can tell that he’s going to have to force this conversation. He places a finger under her chin, pushing away the memory of the kiss he’d given her at Pop’s after the same move, and lifts her head. When she meets his eyes, he knows that it’s now or never. “You have to tell me the truth,” he says. “Forget about everything else—about everything that’s happening outside this room, and talk to me. It’s just us. It’s just me.”

Betty hesitates, and Jughead doesn’t push her. He can see the struggle in her eyes. He knows that she’ll talk when she’s ready.

“What if…” she starts, grasping his shirt tightly. “What if I can’t?”

He places a tender hand over her fist, hoping it will help her relax. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

He doesn’t miss the glance she casts at his touch before responding. When she does, something shifts in her expression. “Juggie…” she says.

Suddenly, the pieces start coming together in his head. Jughead thinks about the note the Black Hood sent her, the way he formed a message that only Betty could read. He remembers how she glossed over the fact that she had published the article about her mom the last time they talked. He can still see the distant look in her eyes, like she had the weight of something he didn’t know about on her shoulders.

“He… he threatened you, didn’t he?” Jughead asks.

She is silent, and it’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Betty, you need to tell me everything. I promise you that he won’t hurt you. I won’t let that happen. Just tell me the truth.”

But she still doesn’t say anything, and Jughead can tell that there’s something he’s missing.

“What if…” she starts again. “What if it’s not me that I’m worried about?”

She looks back up at him then, and he finally understands. He sees the pain there that has probably been present for days, the pain that she’s been dealing with alone. He knows what the Black Hood has done to her.

“He threatened me,” he says, and it isn’t a question.

Tears begin to roll down Betty’s cheeks again, and Jughead wipes them away with his thumb. He doesn’t remove his hand when he’s done, cupping her face softly. He sees that she is struggling to speak, so he waits.

“Juggie, he’s been calling me.”

Jughead pushes down his anger—anger at the Black Hood for doing this to her, anger at himself for not seeing her pain, anger at the universe for hurting someone as good and wonderful as Betty Cooper—and focuses on her words. He wants to be there for her now, make up for every agonizing second that he’s been absent.

“He told me that as long as I keep doing what he says, he won’t kill anybody. He threatened Polly, Veronica, you. He said I had to cut you off, and I couldn’t stand to think of you getting hurt—,” she chokes down a sob. Jughead runs his fingers through her hair, trying not to break down himself. “So I sent Archie to tell you that I needed some space, because I knew if I saw you that you would see right through me.”

Betty lets herself cry again, clearly finished speaking, and Jughead pulls her into a fierce embrace. She buries her face into his shoulder, and he strokes the back of her head while he allows his own tears to fall.

“Betts,” he whispers, still holding her tightly. “I am so sorry.”

They stay like that, tangled up in each other, for what seems like hours. When Betty finally pulls away, her forehead is red from where it was pushed into his shirt. Both of their faces are tearstained, Betty’s hair is mussed, and Jughead’s beanie has long since been lost.

“Juggie?” she asks timidly.

“Yeah, Betts?”

“I love you.”

Jughead reaches his hand behind her head and pulls her forehead to meet his. “I love you too, Betty Cooper.” She shakes a little, and a single tear rolls down her face. He places both hands on either side of her face and strokes his thumbs across her cheeks. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he says. “We’re not splitting up. I’m right here. And he’s not going to win, Betty. We’re going to find him.” He says it with so much confidence that even he’s surprised, but he immediately knows it’s true. He was so foolish to believe that she didn’t love him, that a stupid Riverdale civil war could break them up. They are Betty and Jughead, the best investigative duo the town has ever seen and the oddest pair to ever fall in love. Nothing could tear them apart. Not even the Black Hood—not even…

“Betty,” Jughead says, releasing his grip and leaning back to give her some space. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He can tell by the way she looks at him that she can hear the guilt in his voice.

“When Archie delivered your message, he may have… exaggerated things a bit, and, well… I may have believed him.”

Betty’s expression is unreadable, so Jughead continues.

“I was so hurt and lost, and I thought you broke up with me because of the Serpents, so I self-destructed a little bit. And that’s no excuse for what I did, but… I wanted something to numb the pain.”

He pauses, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks down at the floor and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Toni,” she says in a whisper that’s barely audible.

Jughead can feel the pain radiating off of her, and he desperately wants to be able to take it all back. He doesn’t respond, and he sees her quiver a little in recognition.

“Did you, um…” she starts, color rising in her cheeks. She clenches her fists, and Jughead wants to reach out and unclasp them, but he’s afraid to touch her right now. “Did you guys… you know…” she trails off and turns her face away from him.

Immediately, Jughead realizes what she’s suggesting. “No! No, Betty, no. I was hurt, and Toni was there. She leaned in to kiss me, and I was so desperate to feel better that I kissed her back. But it only lasted for a second, and then I told her to leave. I haven’t seen her since.”

Betty looks at him then. The pain is still there, but it’s mixed with some relief that Jughead can only guess stems from the knowledge that their kiss didn’t go any further than that.

She sighs. “I’m not going to fault you for that, Jughead,” she says, and he lets out the breath he was holding. “I get where you were coming from. I don’t know what I’d do if I thought you…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, and he doesn’t need her to.

“Betty,” Jughead says, reaching out and taking her hands into his. “I am so sorry. What I did was wrong, and it didn’t feel right or good or like anything other than a mistake. I told her off a little bit afterward, and I felt so guilty. I know you’ve probably lost some trust in me, but I really want the chance to rebuild it. Will you let me make it up to you, Betts? Please?”

Her eyes soften, and she gives him what he thinks is the first smile he’s seen from her since the one at Pop’s. It’s watery and tinged with a little sadness, but it’s more than he deserves, and his heart is overwhelmed with happiness at the sight of it.

“Of course, Juggie. I love you, so much. I’m just sorry I hurt you.”

He doesn’t let her say anything else, because they can continue this conversation later when they’re not emotionally drained and exhausted. He rushes at her, crushing her into another hug that somehow feels even tighter than all the ones they’ve shared since he climbed through her window tonight. Betty reciprocates it fully this time, and Jughead peppers her shoulder with kisses while he slips his hands under her shirt to wrap them around her waist. Her hand flies to his hair, kneading through his dark locks. He pulls his face back and looks at her intently, and he doesn’t even try to hide the full-on smile playing across his features. She smiles back at him, and his heart soars. Before he knows it, her lips are on his, and he’s kissing Betty Cooper once again.

This time, Betty is kissing him.

Betty is kissing him.

And, damn it, he’s kissing her back.

willow-free  asked:

I don't really have any prompts, but if you look up the Jamilton tag on @midnigtartist's blog, you might get a few ideas! Aimee is complete Jamilton trash, loves the heck outta them

I did just that! The prompt/feeling I got from that is “Jefferson actually likes kids and takes care of Philip for a day when Hamilton loses track of him, causing Hamilton’s entire view of Jefferson as a person to shift”

@midnigtartist Happy birthday! I was already writing this before I learned it was your birthday, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! You’re art is great! Also, I sent you an ask about this but severely underestimated the size of your inbox. If/when you see the anon that sounds suspiciously like this post, feel free to ignore it! 


As much as he’d like it to be the case, Thomas did not at first recognize the kid loitering around the office. He did however, recognize that the kid couldn’t be more than 10 years old, if that- and was therefore too young to be standing around anywhere, never mind outside the ‘Washington and Associates’ law firm.

It wasn’t quite time to pack up, but Thomas figured this was more important. Plus, no one else was dealing with it, or even noticing. He saved his work, and stood up.

“Leaving early?” James poked his head up, at Thomas’ movement.

“There’s a kid hanging around outside, it’s distracting,” Thomas explained. James peeked out the window, furrowed his brows, and nodded.

“Don’t take too long,” James reminded, turning back to his work. Thomas rolled his eyes and nodded, even though he knew James’ attention was already back to his work.

The kid jumped when Thomas opened the door, immediately turning around and looking down as if he just happened to be standing there. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Hi,” Thomas pitched his voice, warmer and completely devoid of his usual sarcastic drawl. “You’ve been standing out here for a while, is there anything I can help you with?” Up close, the kid was even smaller. The parents had better be nearby, or Thomas would be having words.

“Uhh,” The kid’s head bobbed up, then straight down, his mass of curls hiding his face. Thomas felt his heart thaw, just a bit- the kid was just shy. Which was fair, given Thomas was a tall, mysterious stranger. Even adults tended to be intimidated. Thomas leaned down, dropping to the kid’s level.

“That’s okay,” Thomas tried to put the kid at ease. “Could you tell me where your parents are, so we can find them?”

“Umm,” The kid started again, but this time he brushed his hair behind an ear and glanced up to Thomas’ chin. “Mom’s at her home, I’m s'posed to be with Dad this week, and he’s s'posed to be here. I think.” He nervously glanced up at the building. “There’s only one Washington law place, right?”

Ah, a divorced kid. “Yes, as far as I’m aware, this is the only Washington law place,” Thomas didn’t want to correct the kid and possibly confuse him. Still, he couldn’t stop an amused smile at the term ‘law place’. “Can you tell me your Dad’s name?”

The kid froze, paling instantly. “U-uh, it’s my Dad, um…” He started shaking. Crap.

Thomas thought quickly. “It’s okay, it’s okay!” He smiled wide, waving his hand in what he hoped was more comforting than dismissive, though he used it in the latter sense far more often. “Could you tell me your name, instead?”

“Oh!”, the kid grinned. “My name’s Philip Hamilton! I’m 8 years old!” Thomas nearly flinched. There was only one Hamilton who worked at Washington’s, and there was no way this was a coincidence. He should have guessed- Hamilton’s divorce was well known in lawyer circles, and now that he was looking for it, the kid’s face bore some resemblance. Standing in front of Thomas was his biggest work rival’s son.

There wasn’t anything for it, though. Thomas was hardly going to just leave the kid out here. “Nice to meet you, Philip. I work with your Dad. My name’s Thomas Jefferson.”

Philip’s eyes lit up in recognition. Thomas had just enough time to worry about what exactly the kid was recognizing. “Jefferson? Dad mentions you all the time! He says you’re really distracting!”

Distracting, huh? Not 'evil’, not 'idiotic’; nor any of the other insults Hamilton would shout to his face? Not even 'bad man’, if he wanted to soften it to his kid? Thomas itched to ply Philip for answers, for what Hamilton really thought; but it was the middle of winter and now was not the time.

“How about we wait inside for your Dad, and you tell me what you’re doing out here?” Thomas spoke cautiously, not sure how Philip would react to being asked to go somewhere with a relative stranger.

Strangely though, Philip’s shyness went straight out the window after his introduction. “Oh! That’s because Dad promised me this time, for real promised, that he’d get off work on time and take me to see a movie! I wanted to make sure he really would, so I looked up 'Washington law’ on google and bussed here all by myself!” Thomas led the way to the building as Philip chattered, small hand immediately latching onto Thomas’ fingers.

“That’s very cool!” Thomas enthused, opening the door and immediately shooting a glare at every person who stared. “Now, your Dad’s out now, the boss sent him to the courthouse to drop something off, but we can wait for him, alright?”

Philip beamed. “Alright! This place looks even cooler than I thought!” He was so enthusiastic, that Thomas couldn’t help but smile back. Hamilton would still be getting an earful, being so unreliable that his 8 year old child felt the need to escape his babysitter and bus through the middle of town to check up on him. Hell, did he even have a babysitter?

Thomas’ work was left, forgotten on his desk. James would clean up for him, this was more important. “What do you say to meeting your Dad’s boss?” He needed to at least explain the situation, after all.

“Mr. Washington? Yeah! Dad says he’s too nosy, and Mom says he’s basically like my second grandpa, even though I’ve never met him before.”

Thomas couldn’t stop the chuckle if he tried. “Did he? You’ll have to tell me more, later.” He joked, but Philip nodded anyways. This was far better than finishing his work.

Alex was determined to keep his promise, for real this time. He was not staying late, and if possible, he would even be home early. Washington owed it to him, for all that free overtime.

Unfortunately, all the owing in the world meant nothing when Washington ordered him to take some important documents to the courthouse, a good half hour away, when the day was nearly over. Alex could never say no to a direct request like that, even if Washington probably would have relented if he explained his circumstances.

No, he could do this and still be out on time, if he drove straight to Philip’s school, instead of back to the firm, first. Alex did so, driving as fast as he reasonably could.

Only, when he did that, Philip had already left, instead of waiting for him. In fact, he had left for the washroom in the last hour of class, and never returned, according to the teacher. Alex barely spared the time to chew them out for not keeping a better headcount, and then he was running off to his car and to home.

Philip wasn’t at home either. Alex started panicking in earnest. He could be anywhere, but why would he? Philip was so excited about going to see the movie, he wouldn’t have just run off today of all days, would he? But he alternative- if Philip hadn’t purposefully run off himself- was far worse. Alex started by doing circles of the neighbourhood, then the local parks.

Alex was focused; so focused that his phone remained in his pocket, battery dead before he’d even realized Philip was missing.

It must have been hours later, the sun starting to set, when Alex finally gave up. He had panicked somewhere early down the line, and never quite stopped. His limbs were shaking. Alex had lost his son.

He didn’t want to even think about the phone call he would have to make to Eliza. But first, he’d check the house again, just in case. Alex wasn’t holding out much hope at this point.

Alex was just stressed enough to miss the strange car behind his in the driveway. He was not, however, too stressed to notice two people sitting in his living room.

“Hamilton, about time!” Jefferson waved his arms enthusiastically, though something sharp glinted in his eyes. Alex’s brain stuttered for a moment at the sight of his coworker/rival relaxing in his home, but then Philip was bounding into his arms.

“Dad! Where the heck where you? Mr. Jefferson’s called you like, a million times!”

“Wha- Philip, where have you been? You weren’t at school, the teachers told me you disappeared, you weren’t at home, I’ve been worried sick, looking for you!” Harsh, panicked words spilled from Alex’s mouth, even as he seized his son in a fierce hug. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Philip hugged back tight, voice suddenly subdued and guilty. “I just wanted to find you at work, so you’d actually go on time.”

Alex loosened his hug so that he could face Philip directly. “Wait, you what-?” Alex cut himself off, remembering the other person in the room. “Jefferson, why the fu-heck are you here?” Philip’s head poked up at Alex’s accusatory tone, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Nice save,” Jefferson smirked, always as irritating as possible. “Also, is that really the way you want to be speaking to the guy who’s been watching your kid all evening? When I could have been doing anything else with my time?”

There was no reason for Jefferson to be lying. In fact, that answer made the most sense, given that Jefferson had literally been in his home, watching Philip, when Alex got in there. Still though, this was Jefferson. Instinctive denial surged in his chest. “Excuse me-”

“I’m sorry!” Philip shouted again, lip trembling. He wasn’t looking at Alex though, instead facing Jefferson. “I didn’t mean to waste your day!”

Alex’s blood ran cold. That was exactly the opening one could never make to Jefferson- he could never hold back his infuriating sarcastic comments. He was going open his mouth and spout some negative bullshit that would make Philip cry, because Jefferson was an asshole who didn’t have any kids and probably hated them.

Jefferson did open his mouth, but his eyes were suddenly wide, with surprise and maybe guilt- something Alex had never seen him wear. He scrambled off the couch. “No no, I didn’t mean that, Philip! You’ve been great fun!” Jefferson assured, stepping over to crouch in front of Philip.

Philip looked up at him cautiously. Alex held his breath, completely taken aback. “Really?”, Philip whispered, and Alex could hear the tiny smile working its way into his voice.

“Of course!” Jefferson reached a hand over to ruffle his hair. “I got to read all your poems, and you got to hear all about the silly things your Dad does at work! It’s just that your Dad’s back now, so I should probable get going.” He gave Philip a wide grin, full of warmth and life.

Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Jefferson with a smile like that. It did something to his stomach that he’d rather not analyze.

“No! You gotta stay for supper! We can’t do the movie anymore anyways, right Dad!” Philip bounced back, both emotionally and literally, on the balls of his feet.

Alex opened his mouth, searching for an excuse that wouldn’t upset Philip. Then, he glanced over to Jefferson. He was fidgeting, glancing away awkwardly. With a start, Alex realized he must have actually had fun. Somehow, Jefferson was actually really good with kids, if Philip’s excitement meant anything; and now he was standing there, in Alex’s house, looking more awkward and vulnerable than Alex had ever seen him.

“Yeah… yeah, he can stay. If he wants to.” Alex didn’t even want to guess what his face looked like right now. He wasn’t even sure what his feelings looked like right now. It was all a mess of exposed wires, his entire worldview turned on its head.

Jefferson flinched in surprise for a moment, eyes snapping to Alex. Then, he gauged Alex’s pure, undiluted confusion, and a smile slowly took his face, one that more closely resembled the teasing smirks Alex was used to. Now though, it seemed just a little less aggressive than Alex remembered.

“I suppose I can stay and tell your Dad all about how you skipped your last class, looked up his workplace online, and then bussed there all by yourself without telling anybody.” Jefferson shrugged, nonchalant.

“What! Mr. Jefferson, no!” Philip whined, even as he smiled broadly. “I’m gonna get grounded!”

Jefferson laughed. “Well, whose fault is that? You’re a little troublemaker!”

Philip spouted denials in between giggles. Alex felt his paradigm shift further off axis. “I guess I’ll get started,” Alex said, quiet and distant. He stood up and edged his way to the kitchen. Jefferson and Philip continued to chat in his hallway.

Somewhere between numb and completely unsure of himself, Alex turned the oven on and got out a frozen pizza. He took as much time as he could retrieving the round pan and opening the pizza box. Replaying in his mind was the smile Jefferson had made at Philip. His stomach flipped again.

“Hey,” Jefferson’s voice was calm and subdued, but made Alex jump a foot anyways. “I put the TV on for Philip.” He was right behind Alex, nearly crowding him into the counter. “I assume you want to know what’s been going on? No one’s been on the same page today.”

Alex swallowed. It wasn’t the first time Jefferson had crowded him, Alex had realized over time that it was more a matter of not knowing about personal space, rather than an active bid at intimidation. It was also overwhelming, especially now. “Uh,” Alex started, horrified at the squeak his voice made. “I guess not.”

Jefferson smirked- how could he not?- but relented, backing up a step. “It really wasn’t all that crazy. The kid showed up in the last hour of work, and no one else would do it, so I watched him. Tried to call your phone, I’m assuming it’s dead.” Alex dug into his pocket, pulling out a very dead phone. He paled. “No, it’s fine, it’s done.” Jefferson waved his hand dismissively. “I didn’t- I mean, it wasn’t awful.”

Alex paused at Jefferson’s stutter. His ears were pink. Adorable, Alex thought, then shook it from his mind. “Thank you,” he said instead.

“Uhhh,” Jefferson’s ears turned pinker. “No offense, but that sounds so weird coming from you.” Suddenly, he started laughing. “And I just said 'no offense’, which is even weirder!”

Alex snorted. Giggles stumbled their way between his lips, turning into chuckles, then full blown laughter. “Oh my God,” Alex wheezed, “This is so weird!”

Jefferson was howling right beside him. “I know, right?!”

Their laughs petered off, save for a quiet snicker from the distance. Both their heads whipped around- Philip peeked from the doorway. “Dad hasn’t laughed like that in ages,” He said knowingly. “You guys should hang out more. Hey, can Mr. Jefferson come with us to the movie, next time?”

Alex flushed, his mind stumbling to a stop, not sure if it was from the sheer audacity of the question, or how the idea of going out with Jefferson sounded too much like a date. His only saving grace was that it was probably the last thing Jefferson wanted, anyways. It didn’t matter that the sight of him being so nice to Philip did things to Alex’s heart.

“That sounds nice. If your Dad agrees.” Jefferson gave Philip an indulgent smile, then turned to Alex, question standing.  A quiet blush graced his cheekbones as well. He looked so much more attractive- cute, Alex’s brain supplied- when it was open like this. Usually, Jefferson’s appearance was the only attractive thing about him. Alex realized suddenly that he was gone- had been gone the moment Jefferson had revealed a side of himself that wasn’t pure opposition to everything Alex stood for.

“Alright,” Alex agreed. He needed to see where this was going. He was going to figure Jefferson out, or die trying.

Evidence.ZIP: Nami's slow descent into love

Before we start I want to make clear a few things.
This is not paid work which means it’s substandard trash, all of the scans used are unofficial, but all the interpretations are mine.

Ready? Set. Go.

This first panel is not a shipping panel. LuNa or SaNa, it’s not. However because it’s been some days since Sanji took off, that means between that day and the day Luffy and company arrived, he’s been on her mind. Again I stress, this is not a romantic sign or symbol of any note. Her tears are of worry and relief because she’s been worried sick for her nakama and relief because finally, Luffy’s here, let’s get the rescue rolling.


The next two pictures are about Nami being eager to get off their butts and go after Sanji right away. But Luffy and Zoro are in no hurry, and even Chopper and Brook in other panels are just sad that Sanji is gone but they’re not like Nami who’s gung ho about chasing him right away. Does that mean they’re not worried about Sanji? No, of course they are, but Nami obviously is the most worried here.

Right before everything happened, Nami was pretty belligerent towards Sanji. She’s used to everything he does, including his antics. But by no means does that mean she’s apathetic to him. After all, even as early as FI our guy Sanji put in the work. In PH even if he didn’t like it, he followed Nami’s wish to save the kids and his body serendipitously saved Nami from Caesar’s explosion. Nami knows that Sanji would save any other of his nakama, but it was only during the time skip that she began to see how much special attention Sanji actually paid her. And she doesn’t even know yet, that Sanji gave her body respect when he dived that lake to get Kinemon’s torso, when just a few minutes ago he was cupping her breasts like a madlad for a punchline.

Nami also remembers quite clearly what little Sanji told them about his family. It doesn’t seem anything special until you realize that when this happened, Nami asked Chopper right before to dig a spot up for gold, and forgot all about it entirely when Sanji was telling them about Liar Norland.

So then Sanji and co. got captured. This is what I think triggered Nami, the “I’ll be back but not really” smile she’s seen twice in her life now: Sanji’s and Bellemere’s. She never really knew what she had until he was gone.

In this panel Nami is mad at Zoro for victim blaming Sanji. Both sides have a point, but take note of Luffy. He noticed, as well as I did (and a few others), that Nami was being a teensy bit overreacting at this point. Why I judged that to be his action instead of Luffy observing the back and forth, is because he’s of the same opinion as Zoro…marriages are no big deal, it’s not like somebody won’t return from a marriage. But Nami’s uncomfortable with it, so in order to remedy the problem, he decides to go up to Sanji and ask him to come back, because their navigator was being cranky when he wasn’t around. Also because he didn’t want to be a Big Mom subordinate, but if it was really the basis of his decision then he should have decided the chase before Nami’s overreaction.

The other two victims, Brook and Chopper, had very different stances. Brook was the calm and mature narrator while Chopper just kept apologizing.

See again Luffy in this panel. But, in addition to noticing Nami’s vehement objection to Sanji’s Vinsmoke lineage, there’s also what I call the “wait a minute!” graphic. It’s those small lines that form a semicircle near a character when something catches their attention during someone else’s monologue. So now he knows something’s definitely up with Nami, if he wasn’t sure before.

That face isn’t a “wait a minute, what are Vinsmokes?” but rather a “wait a minute, why are you objecting?”

For comparison, this is Nami’s “wait a minute, I know who you’re talking about” panel.

After the Jack ownage, Luffy was open to another banquet like he wasn’t done with one the night before. Nami feels once is enough, let’s get going, and gives her usual excuse of “you can’t go anywhere without a navigator” spiel like Luffy doesn’t know what she does. Go back to when Luffy visited Pekoms, he was still saying no to her because the fewer the members the higher the chance of stealth. But now all he says is OK. He knows that somebody on his crew can’t wait to see Sanji again, and he’s all too happy to oblige.

Even in this catfight prelude, Nami wants to hurry up, giddy up. But when Pudding elaborates on her situation…

THIS is where I think Nami caught herself slippin’. Luffy’s just happy with someone complimenting his cook, Chopper is concerned with fact checking, but Nami…is concerned about Sanji’s emotional well-being? If she really didn’t give him the time of day then why the hell does she care whether Sanji marries for love and not just for political reasons? Just Nami well-wishing? Can’t be, because well-wishers would not question whether or not the bride loves her groom in a political marriage.

ANYBODY else would give the happy bride-to-be a congratulations but only a “former-gf-who-has-accepted-the-reality-of-the-situation-who-still-has-residual-feelings-of-love” would confirm for herself if the man she left/who left her is being loved by his bride-to-be.

And before someone says “But family members and to an extent nakama would ask that too!”, they won’t question the bride’s/groom’s feelings, but whether or not he/she is ready to take care of their partner for the rest of their life. Nami isn’t asking “Will you take care of Sanji for the rest of his life?”

Also I think this conversation makes One Piece finally fail the Bechdel Test after all these years.

Fast forward to when they caught up with the Germa, that’s Nami’s face of relief from being worried about not being able to see each other again. If Sanji were his normal self this is probably where he’d ask her Do you love me now, Nami-san? or something. And after Nami fighting about quarter/half of 11 hours vs Cracker (this dude could take several G4 punches too), she’d probably reply to him in kind at that point.

I have no doubt in my mind that this Nami was one who already recognized her feelings and had no problem acting on them.

But reality is cruel…Sanji wasn’t taking any chances. Even going as far as mock Luffy for his dream…and she believed it…despite hearing about a week ago from his own mouth that Luffy was going to be PK!

Luffy never believed the cockbull Sanji was cranking out, so why did Nami? Well for starters, Nami never experienced Sanji lying to her. Ever. You can even search the whole manga for a panel up to that point where Sanji lied to her, you won’t find it. That’s why she believed Sanji’s lies so easily.

Do you remember the Usopp vs Luffy fight? The stated reason is because Usopp doesn’t want to leave the Merry behind, due to his own insecurity about being weak and his projection onto the boat being useless and needing replacement which snowballed into him cracking. But was that really all it was? Of course not, Usopp wasn’t selfish enough to fight for himself. Flee for himself maybe. He wasn’t just fighting for the Merry Go, he was also fighting for Kaya because Merry was his reminder of her.

Scour the manga, all of Usopp’s most emotional fight moments are because he was fighting for someone else.

Back to Nami, what did the slap mean? Was it anger at beating Luffy up and spitting on his dream? Yes. Was it because of all the stress and worry for him being useless at that point? Yes. But as a natural opposite of Usopp, Nami’s most emotional fight moments are about herself.

Nami decided to fight Arlong because of his continued tyranny towards Cocoyashi Village despite her doing her best to pay up their freedom, but the bulk of her anger was about how much Arlong fucked her life up. Thanks to him she never grew up with a normal childhood.

With Nami vs Ms. Doublefinger, I think Nami even decided to leave her to Zoro. However because she was being labeled a weakling (and underestimated), she decided to stay and fight. Nami vs Kalifa was a similar case of underestimation despite her taking the fight because Sanji was useless against Kalifa.

I think Nami was also mad that Sanji wasn’t the same man she realized she fell in love with. Gone was the kind, humble, and goofy man who would stick up for his nakama and their dreams. In his place was a snotty brat who acted superior to everything and believed status gave them the right to shit on other people’s dreams. Nami thinks Sanji has changed for the worse because of his newfound status, and drops the endearment term “-kun” which she only used for him.

It’s framed like in TV dramas where the lady slaps the man out of passion. Yonji even lampshades it: “She’s the fiery type!”

The last pic is just Nami’s “oh shit no” look compared to Luffy’s “oh shit” one.

I’m too tired to continue so I’m stopping this here.

Better researchers than I can spot where Nami first got infatuated by Sanji.

All I’m saying is, they don’t really care about us Sanami shippers should not worry about the character development Oda gave Nami in the Year of Sanji. It’s been a long time coming for us but it’s the last stretch before the game ends.

Don’t expect Oda to give them a flashy confession or an extraordinary action to validate the ship.

But if I read Oda right and this is where he wants Sanji and Nami to take the next step into their relationship, we’re in the green.

Naysayers will say things like “but Nami would do the same for the other nakama” or “so and so would act like that too” but take heed and remember, Oda does not write without reason. He MADE Nami overreact because he wants US to care that Sanji was taken from the crew. He WROTE Sanji into catching Nami with both of them sharing a brief smile because he wants US to feel the relief of both parties safe in each other’s hold.

And he DREW Pudding being jealous because that’s how some other ships feel about this arc. jk ilu guise this is just banter

Thanks for reading.

“Is it truly for safety’s sake that you wish to pass through the forest, Master Elf?” Gimli queried knowingly.  “Or is it because you perhaps seek a semblance of peace among these… mallorn, do you call it?”

Legolas inclined his head in acknowledgement of the halting, awkward use of Sindarin.  “I know that the woods do not bring you comfort, mellon nin.  You need not endure it for my sake.”

“Yet the woods bring comfort to you, stubborn elf,” Gimli pointed out.  Indeed, as Arod moved steadily into the heart of the forest, Gimli could feel from beneath his hands the way the elf relaxed at the sight of the trees enfolding them.  A certain weariness seemed to lift from his shoulders, and even his breathing deepened and slowed.  Gimli squeezed the elf’s arm partly in reassurance, partly in sympathy.  “You need not pretend for mine.”  

Legolas turned to him then, and Gimli’s breath hitched at the look of open gratitude the elf was giving him.  “Must we parry with words even in this, Master Dwarf?” Legolas teased, though his tone was soft.  

Feeling strangely exposed at the elf’s prolonged gaze upon him, Gimli rolled his eyes and focused his gaze instead at the shadows dancing upon the ground as the sunlight streamed through the swaying leaves.  “I dare you to deny that you enjoy it,” he returned glibly.  

The dwarf felt the vibrations through the elf’s back as he chuckled.  “I shall not, as I’ve discovered how surprisingly fearsome a dwarf’s temper can be when challenged.”

Gimli huffed.  “I’ll have you know, Master Elf, that the Khazad are a patient race, and our temper is only tried by bad company.”

Legolas cocked his head thoughtfully.  “Oh?  Do I pass muster then?”

The elf was looking at him from beneath half-closed lids, managing to look both innocent and coy at the same time, and Gimli’s stomach knotted.  “I have endured a great many trials in my lifetime, Master Elf, and your presence has unfortunately been one of them.”

At that, the elf merely smirked.  “I dare you to deny that you enjoy it,” he casually threw Gimli’s own words back at him.

When the dwarf was apparently too flustered to come up with a rejoinder, Legolas laughed out loud.  “Can it be that I have finally beaten a dwarf in a battle of wits?”

“Just this round, laddie, and only because I let you!” retorted Gimli, and quickly sought to change the subject.  “Now let us stop and rest here a moment.  The journey has been long and our steed might be weary.”

Legolas grinned.  “I knew it.  You secretly care for Arod.”

“Blasphemy!  I do not!”

Gimli’s vehement denial was met with a pleased whinny from their horse, and the dwarf muttered darkly, “Oh shut up, you overgrown pony, see if I give you the extra carrots next time.”

“You feed him behind my back?” Legolas was positively beaming now.

“… One more word from you, you pompous elf, and I swear you will find your golden head severed by my axe faster than you can blink.”

Legolas merely laughed again, and Gimli sighed.  The elf did not take any of his threats seriously anymore.

Still, as they dismounted and settled underneath a great elm to make camp, Gimli was glad to hear a note of joy in his friend’s voice again, even as shadowed as it was by the war that loomed ahead and the grief that laid behind.  He suspected that the forest had indeed done its magic in easing the elf’s troubled mind, much in the same way that earth and stone could lighten a dwarf’s.

Even now, as Gimli rested his back against the elm and he quietly smoked his pipe, Legolas was wandering around as if in a dream, reverently touching each of the trees in turn as he sang to them softly.  Not for the first time, Gimli wished he could understand the elegant words streaming out of his friend’s lips, and he wondered what he was singing about this time.

Gimli tilted his head as Legolas neared and he heard the elf’s song take on a melancholy tune.  With a sudden flash of recognition, he realised where he last heard the familiar elven melody — in Lothlorien.

Gimli’s grip on his pipe tightened as it dawned on him that the song was a requiem, and he felt his heart clench as he slowly lowered his hand.  

“For Boromir?” he whispered.

For a long moment, Legolas did not answer.  Gimli watched quietly as he allowed his friend to finish the final meandering notes until at last Legolas inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I wanted—” the elf’s voice broke as he shuddered a sigh.  “I wanted the trees to remember him, for he could never return now.”

His gaze sought Gimli’s then, and the dwarf felt his chest spasm in painful empathy as the elf made no move to mask the sorrow shining plainly in his eyes. “I wanted this land to always remember the fallen Son of Gondor.”

“It will,” Gimli declared firmly, even as his own hands shook with his own neglected grief.  He had thus far been successful at keeping it at bay, but now it threatened to overwhelm him suddenly.  He curled his hands into fists.  “We will make sure of it.”

The haunted look was still in the elf’s eyes, but now it was tempered with a gentle smile.  “I marvel at the strength of Dwarves,” he murmured.

He folded his legs to sit beside his friend, and Gimli moved over to make room for him.  “I can only wonder…” Legolas hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I can only wonder how it was for you in Khazad-dûm.”

Gimli smiled in appreciation at the effort to speak of the Dwarrowdelf’s proper name in Khuzdul, rather than the blackened name of Moria.  “Truth be told, lad, the cold terror the Balrog brought upon us was nothing compared to what I felt when I saw my cousin’s tomb.”  It was his turn now to close his eyes in remembered pain.  “They were my kin.  All of them.”

His Khahay were now forever lost, the desecrated bodies not even given the proper burial they deserved.  Gimli took a long, deep breath as he viciously fought back the despair clawing at his heart, and he turned to Legolas with a small smile as the elf touched his knee worriedly.  

“Thank you, Master Elf, for saving me then,” said the dwarf softly, sincerely.  “For pulling me out not only of that cursed place, but out of my own grief.”

Legolas shook his head.  “Nay, you amaze me, my friend.  For you to have faced such unimaginable loss and still have survived… Aulë must indeed be hailed for his creations not only of understated beauty, but of indomitable spirit.  Even the most enduring mountains of Arda cannot hope to match your might.”

Gimli stared at him in surprise.  He never would’ve imagined an elf, of all beings, openly praising not only the Dwarven race, but also their Maker.  “You flatter our kind far too much, Master Elf, for we can only be humbled to receive such praise from Eru’s Children.”

“Yet isn’t it a wonder, Master Dwarf,” Legolas murmured, “How one of the very few things that can kill the Firstborn is grief?”

Gimli’s eyes widened as the light in the elf’s dimmed.  “Isn’t it such a curious irony that the mortal beings can survive what the immortal ones cannot?”

Legolas gave a start as he found his arm being gripped tightly, and he looked in surprise at the face of a very determined dwarf.

“If this strength is indeed one of the greatest gifts Mahal has given us,” Gimli whispered fiercely, “Then allow me to lend this to you.”  His fingers trembled.  “As long as I draw breath, I will not allow grief to take you.”

As the elf stared back seemingly in shock, Gimli belatedly realised that he must have overstepped an unspoken boundary.  Shamefaced, he shrank back, but before he could move away, he found himself being held fast and sure by hands as strong as steel.

“You…” Legolas stammered, “You cannot make an impossible promise.”

And Gimli, son of Gloin, the last of Durin’s line, only smiled resolutely.  

“You would do well to remember, Master Elf, that you should never underestimate a Dwarf.”

Good Little Assistant (M)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Smut

A/N: I wrote this one for Admin Panda, because she is our good little secretary. I was going to do Jimin next but…I didn’t feel like it anymore. (Sorry Admin Kook, I’ll get around to it…soon).

-Admin Moon

Read Previous Works: First Class / The Wounded Heart


I thought this department retreat would be like all the others we’d been forced to attend. A campfire at night, some trust exercises, and food that I wouldn’t feed to my worst enemy. How wrong I was. Two weeks before the retreat, our boss, Min Yoongi had just come it the main office in the United States from the one in Korea. With black hair and brown eyes you could just get lost in, Yoongi immediately made an impact around the office. He had mainly kept to himself since he began, but everyone knew what a room lighting smile he had.

I was his personal assistant so I knew more than others just how charming he could be. Every time he called me into his office, I had NSFW thoughts about what he could want me for. Unfortunately, it was usually just photocopying or some other menial task. The weekend retreat was a chance for all of us to get to know each other outside the confines of the office. Everyone attended them with resent, but this year I was looking forward to it. There was so much I wanted to learn about Yoongi and it would be the perfect opportunity.

The bus pulled into the Red Top Lodge and we all filed out. As we did, we were each handed a bunk assignment like we were back in summer camp. I was sharing a room with four other women, all who were from the accounting department. As soon as the door shut behind us it became immediately apparent that they’d be gossiping about our CFO all weekend. “I heard he had to leave his last job in Korea, because he was being stalked!” Tiffany, the payroll clerk, said excitedly. “She was the filing girl, apparently.”

“No.” Brittany waved her hand to bat away the comment. “I heard he was charged with sexual harassment..” Merissa put in her two cents in next. “I don’t care what he’s done, he’s as gorgeous as sin. Have you seen his hands?” The three of them giggled like schoolgirls before turning to me, expecting my input. Out of us all, I had the most contact with Yoongi. They probably expected some kind of inside information…not that I had any. I shrugged. “He seems nice.”

“That’s all?” Merissa pushed on. “Are you holding out on us, Y/N?”

“Not at all. He keeps to himself, that’s all.” I turned away from the three ladies and started making my bed, hoping that they wouldn’t ask any more questions. Even if I did know something about Yoongi, I wasn’t sure I would share it with them anyway. The lunch bell rang out and we all met back at the dining hall. The lunch consisted of sandwiches, chips and soda. It wasn’t the kind of food we were all used to eating but didn’t have that special camping feel to it. After we ate, groups were assigned and we all split off.

Crossing my fingers finally paid off, because I was allocated to Yoongi’s team. We headed off into the forest to play some trust games. Deep in the woods our group leader, James, paired us off. When it came down to just Yoongi and I, my stomach fluttered. I wanted to get to know my boss better and this weekend was supposed to be all about bonding. We were given a scavenger hunt list that I hoped would split us off from the group. It was meant to force us to act as a team. Given only two hours, we were told to hurry as there was a lot to be gathered. “Should we start at the top?” I suggested meekly. “As good a place as any,” Yoongi replied.

He was wearing black shorts with a blue shirt that highlighted the muscles on his arms. I bet he went to the gym every lunch break when he religiously took his hour off.

We set off and delved further into the woods, the murmurs of all the others disappearing into the distance. We were completely alone in the wilderness and all I could think about was the bonding we were supposed to be doing. “There might be some spider webs in the cave up there,” Yoongi said, pointing to a black hole several feet up the trail. “Who puts spider webs on a scavenger hunt?”

“It’s probably supposed to help us overcome our fear of them.”

“I doubt you’re scared of spiders.” Yoongi shrugged. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Nothing?” I asked incredulously. He shrugged again and I kind of believed him. The few feet were quickly traversed before we reached the entrance to the cave. It was a lot bigger than I expected it to be, easily fitting us both inside. I searched for a cobweb or two but came up short. When I stood, Yoongi was directly in front of me…looking down at me with an intense gaze. “No cobwebs,” I stuttered out. “No,” he replied, taking a step closer to me. “What a shame.”

His lips were on mine before I could register what was happening. My body melted against his as his tongue lapped at my mouth. I parted my lips and let him in, greedily welcoming him. His right hand cupped my cheek as his thumb caressed the skin there. My knees were weakening just from the kiss. If he didn’t release me soon I was going to be nothing more than a puddle on the floor. We kissed until there was no air left in my lungs. Yoongi pulled back so I could see the fire in his eyes. They burned with desire, a look I hadn’t seen in him before. Out of all the women in the office, it made my stomach flip flop to know he was choosing me.

“I’ve had to stare at your sexy ass for two weeks now,” Yoongi started, “and it’s taken every inch of my control not to slap that sweet pussy of yours.” The pussy that he was referring to came alive with his words. I was never one for office flings but I would gladly make an exception for this exceptional man. His lips pressed upon mine before I could say anything. His hands slid down the curve of my breast to land on my waist and then around to my back. He pulled me closer against him until I was completely encased in his embrace. He pushed a leg between mine so our bodies could get even closer. “Feel that, baby girl?”

His cock pressed into my hips, as hard as a rock. There had been plenty of speculation about the size of our CFO’s penis but I got the feeling everybody had underestimated it. “Mmm,” I moaned. He was making me senseless, all I could think about was that cock and how good it would feel being fucked by it. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered. We were in a cave with the rest of our office wandering around the forest all around us. It didn’t seem the best place to get naked but I could never refuse a direct order from my boss…especially not such a seductive order. “Yes, sir,” I replied. He stood back and watched me with eagle eyes.

I started with my company T-shirt and black shorts. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw my underwear. Despite the boring camp, I had gone out of my way to wear my nicest white lace thong. It made me feel a little bit special when I had to wear such boring clothes. “White, huh?” he said. My cheeks burned slightly, I hadn’t expected anyone to see my panties when I got dressed that morning. There was always the hope, but I never would have expected this. “It’s my favorite color. Now take them off before I tear them from you.” I reached around to unclip my bra and let it fall from my shoulders. I let it hang there as I reached down and stepped out of my panties.

Finally, the white lacy bra fell to the floor. I was completely naked in front of my boss. If it weren’t for his appreciative gaze, I may have found myself quite self conscious. Yoongi’s eyes travelled down from my face, lingering on my chest, and finally resting on the curve of my hips. The bulge in his pants was clearly visible, even in the dimness of the cave. He closed the gap between us and swept me into his arms. His lips met mine again before peppering my neck with little bites. I was left on the cusp of pleasure and laughter, unsure whether to giggle or moan with excitement. I felt like doing both.

His lethal tongue went lower until he reached my breast. His lips sucked on my nipple as his tongue twirled little circles around the sensitive bud. My back arched, pressing my breasts against him. I would do anything so that he could take more of me into his mouth. He laughed, his warm breath feeling exquisite against my naked skin. He gently nibbled on my nipple before finally releasing me. We kissed again as his hand moved lower, making my stomach shudder as he skimmed over it. I gasped as his hand cupped my wet pussy. If he wasn’t already aware of how turned on I was, it would be then.

His fingers tickled along my clit, my hips rocked, making the movement more intense. While Yoongi held me, I reached down and pulled open the zipper on his shorts. My hands slid around his cock, while he stroked my clit in long, luxurious caresses, I rubbed his cock through his trunks. I grew tired of the fabric being between us and dove deep into his underwear. His cock was soaked with precum, making the tip wet and slippery just begging for some action. His hips melted and his whole body temporarily weakened to my touch. My hand pumped up and down his shaft as it grew harder and thicker. It was satisfying to see this powerful man come undone with just a few delectable strokes.

He let me go suddenly and the cold cave air encompassed my body, making me miss his warmth. I stood naked and panting while he quickly removed his clothes. With every item that he peeled away, I grew more excited. His hard abs and ripped muscles proved that he definitely looked after himself. As soon as he was undressed, he tugged me closer. Our bodies entwined and I quickly lost track of where all our limbs were. Yoongi picked me up and took a few steps to the side. I didn’t realize we were outside until the sun peeked through the top of the trees and blinded me.

Yoongi laid me on the ground with his body pressing against mine. I opened my legs to him as he positioned himself between them. I took the weight of his body as our hips connected. His cock rubbed against my clit so our juices mixed together. I should have worried that we were in the forest and out in the open, but I couldn’t think about anything except the sexy man teasing me with his length. “God, you’re sexy,” Yoongi moaned against my skin. He sucked on my nipple, shooting a direct line of pleasure right down to my pussy. My body was a mass of sensations and every nerve tingled with happiness.

“Fuck me,” I begged. His cock had been teasing me for too long. I needed him inside me before I couldn’t stand it anymore. He shifted position and his cock thrust into me with an effortless power. He plunged in while I gasped, finally realizing just how big he really was. Seeing it and feeling it were two different things. A feeling of fullness and completion washed over me as he started bucking his hips. Our naked bodies were exposed to anyone who might have walked by as his cock repeatedly thrust deep into my pussy. With his hand, Yoongi continued to toy with my clit. Our bodies slapped together and mixed with the sounds of the forest. It seemed such a natural thing to do in the lush surroundings. An orgasm quickly rose within me, because of how excited I was. Everything in my body became a tight coil, ready to spring loose and explode.

It was only a matter of seconds before I wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. “Come for me,” Yoongi ordered. He was so used to bossing me around in the office that this seemed like a natural extension of his power. I would happily oblige his directions, I would do whatever he said.

His fingers followed through on the order, rubbing my clit hard so I had no choice but to obey anyway. The spring unwound as the orgasm ripped through me. I moaned Yoongi’s name like it was a prayer and let the tingling feeling of absolute joy barrel through me. Everything felt euphoric, like I was having an out of body experience. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good,” Yoongi said as he sped up his pace. “My cock… so,” His closed his eyes as he buried himself in me one last time. We were both awash with ecstasy now, lost in the sea of the orgasm and powerless to do anything about it.

I relaxed every part of me while sinking into oblivion. My legs unwrapped from around him. For the first time, I noticed the leaves underneath me. They were going to stick to my ass when I eventually got up. Yoongi didn’t linger too long, he pulled off me, taking his weight on his arms while his cock slid out of me. “We should get back soon,” he said. “That’s probably smart. Wouldn’t want people to start missing us.” He stalked back to the cave and retrieved our clothes, handing me mine. I wasn’t sure what to say, whether this meant anything to him or if it was just a one time kind of thing.

He was my boss, after all. I still wanted to keep my job at the end of the day. I needed to keep my job. Unemployment didn’t pay the bills and I certainly had a lot of them. I was still paying off my student loans. “That was really fun,” Yoongi said as he dressed. It seemed a shame to cover up all those muscles. At least I finally knew what was under those clothes. “Yeah, it was.”

“It has to remain our secret.” I liked the thought that we shared a secret. “I won’t tell anyone.” “Good.” He kissed me once we were dressed and started heading back to camp. I guessed we weren’t going to actually gather anything on the scavenger hunt. At least we’d bonded, and that was the point, right?

I followed him back and pretended I couldn’t work out why we’d failed so dismally in our hunt. Tiffany and her partner won the game, finding everything on the list in record time. They probably had their clothes on for the entire hunt. When I caught Yoongi’s eye across the lawn, he winked at me. I tried not to read too much into it, but I wanted to. I hoped he was reliving our naked encounter and craving more, just like I was. It wasn’t long before we had to prepare for dinner, we were to eat around the campfire, in true bonding spirit. Yoongi sat across the fire from me, that cheeky sparkle still in his eye every time he glanced my way.

I took an oversized marshmallow and heated it on the flames. It was gooey when I pulled it back and blew on it to cool it down. I noticed Yoongi watching me intently, so I decided to give him a show. Pulling the marshmallow off the stick, I started to lick it off my fingers. It was so gooey it stuck easily and was much harder to remove from my skin. I licked my fingers suggestively, pretending his cock could take their place, if he wanted it to. He shifted on the log he was sitting on. I could imagine his shaft getting hard and uncomfortable in his pants. His mind should be filled with erotic pictures if I was doing a good job.

One of my co-workers sat beside me, plonking down suddenly. “What a huge waste of time this whole team bonding thing has been,” Brittany moaned. “Oh, I don’t know, it seems to make us a bit closer,” I replied as I tore my gaze away from Yoongi. My boss and I had become much closer since arriving at the camp. “You obviously haven’t been listening to Mark and all his friends. It just reminds me what a bunch of assholes we work with.” She started roasting a marshmallow. I stole a glance at Yoongi and saw him staring at me intently. I decided to ignore him for now, he’d had me too easily today. I didn’t want him to think I was completely desperate…even if he did make my pussy wet with just one look.

“Do you know what we’re doing tomorrow?” I asked. Hopefully there would be a chance for some more alone time so I could bond some more with my boss. Merissa shrugged. “Trust exercises or some bullshit like that. I wished I’d thought to bring some alcohol. This weekend would be so much more fun with tequila.” I wasn’t going to argue with her. Our team bonding weekends were notorious for being long and boring. This was the first one I’d actually enjoyed and that was only because I’d been fucked by the boss.

As people started to sing around the campfire, I decided it was time to slip away. I only sang in the shower and only then when I was alone. I didn’t need to spend any more time with my colleagues. There was no sign of Yoongi when I merged into the shadows and walked back to my cabin. I grabbed my wash bag from my overnight bag and headed for the shower block. I had to admit it was nice to see such a clear sky with all its twinkling lights. You didn’t get that kind of view from the city where the artificial lights never dimmed. The camp was in a beautiful spot, I loved it out here.

The shower block was empty when I stepped inside. It was separated between men and women but I couldn’t hear any noise from either side. I slipped into one of the stalls on the female side and stripped off my clothes. The block may have been breezy but at least they had hot water. I let the liquid wash over me and clean away the dirt I had accumulated from the forest floor. Some leaves were still stuck in my hair from rolling around with Yoongi. I heard footsteps approach and waited for another one of the showers to turn on.

When the feet stopped, I turned around and was face to face with Yoongi. He grinned at me. “That was a dirty trick you played on me back there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied innocently. “So you always eat marshmallows off your fingers like that?”

“Always.” A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Are you here to punish me, Mr. Min?” His eyes darkened. “Should you be punished, Y/N?”

“I think so.” He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it over the top of the stall. His shorts were gone in less time again. His trunks followed until we were both as naked as the day we were born. “What if someone comes in?” I asked. My breath hitched in my throat with anticipation. “Then you better be quiet or we’ll get caught.” He took a step closer to me. Placing his hands on my waist, he turned me around until I faced the tiled wall of the stall.

Water cascaded down over both of us now. His hands wandered as they moved down my body, my stomach quivered as he tickled my belly. His touch was magical, I couldn’t believe what he made me feel with every little motion. I leaned back against him and let the feel of his skin warm me. The water was hot but his skin burned with fire. My pussy started to throb, desperate for some attention. I wanted his fingers in all the places they shouldn’t be. “You’ve got a sexy body, Y/N. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

His hands moved up to cup my breast, one in each palm. He massaged them while pleasurable tingles pinged in my pussy. “God, I love your hands.” I moaned as my body melted. I was putty in his hands and he could mold me however he wanted. A groan escaped my lips. I could let him massage me all day long as he rolled my nipples between his fingers. He seemed to know exactly where to touch for the maximum effect. How was it that Yoongi knew his way around my body better than I did? He had skills I’d never seen before. “Bend over, Y/N,” he ordered in barely more than a whisper.

I followed his command and bent forward, when I did his hands left my breast and moved to my hips. He held me in place against him with one palm while the other hand delved between my legs. He cupped my apex, wiggling his fingers through my folds. “Always so wet and willing. You’re in for a raise if you keep this up.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. He may or may not have been joking but I would play along gladly. This weekend was about bonding and I was going to make the most of it. There was no relationship more important at work than between me and my boss. He tickled my clit until I squirmed. My belly clenched as I tried to stave off the orgasm for as long as possible. It would be all too easy to succumb early, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to enjoy the sensations for as long as I could. His finger slipped into my entrance with ease. He pumped me a few times before withdrawing, satisfied I was more than ready for him.

Yoongi repositioned himself and nudged my legs wider apart so he could push into me. His cock broke the barrier of my entrance and thrust deep inside me. I gasped as I grabbed onto the shower so I didn’t sink to my knees. Yoogni leaned forward, covered my back with his chest. He brushed aside my hair and kissed my neck. His lips sparking fires everywhere they caressed. Our bodies slapped together as his hips thrust against me. Even over the noise of the running water, I could hear the skin on skin smacking together. We were more lubricated than normal with the water adding to our enjoyment.

We both started grunting as we were lost in the action. It didn’t matter who we were at the moment, only what we were doing. Yoongi’s hand worked hard on my clit. He rubbed my nub, reminding me who was in charge. Just like we were back in the office where Yoongi held all of the power. He could tell me what I had to do and I would obey. Just a few movements of his fingers and I would be forced to experience untold pleasure. “I’m close,” he panted. “My cock is about to explode.”

“I’m close too,” I replied. I could barely get the words out as my stomach coiled into a tight ball. I was so close to release that it was all I could think of. His hips bucked faster as his hand pressed down onto my clit. I couldn’t keep it together any longer. “Fuck!” Yoongi grunted at the same time, summing it up perfectly for both of us. We surged into the orgasm together as our bodies experienced the same untold joy. All my senses dulled as my heartbeat shot into the stratosphere. Yoongi was going to give me a heart attack if he kept up with this kind of action.

All my limbs tingled as he pulled me against him. His cock pulled from my pussy as he spun me around. Our arms went around one another as we held each other close. I could hear his heart beating in his chest as my head rested against it. Water continued to flow down our bodies as we lost ourselves in the moment. I couldn’t think about anything except the wonderful joy zipping through my nerves. Even if someone walked in on us, I don’t think I would have been able to do anything about it.

My feet were rooted to the spot and Yoongi’s embrace was far too nice to move out of. We stood together for a long time. Eventually, Yoongi turned off the faucet and the water stopped. I wondered how many people would be having a cold shower because of us tonight. “Go back to your dorm and sleep,” Yoongi said as he released me from his hold. “We’ll talk again tomorrow. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t.” I wouldn’t. Besides being nobody else’s business, I enjoyed having a secret with him. It was something only the two of us shared and that made me feel special. Yoongi took his clothes and left the shower block. I could imagine him getting dressed by moonlight outside. Or maybe he’d walk back to his dorm completely naked so he could find his towel in his room. I wondered what people would think if they saw him. I dried off and put on my pajamas before returning to my own dorm. The sound of a group of my colleagues singing drifted through on the balmy air. I hoped they would continue on for a while so I could have the dorm to myself for a bit longer. Climbing into bed, I stared at the bottom of the bunk above me. The weekend had not turned out as I expected it would. I drifted off to sleep a very satisfied coworker.

In the morning, the camp alarm woke everyone in my dorm simultaneously. I hadn’t heard them come in last night. Each of us grumbled with the early start but none of us wanted to miss out on breakfast so we reluctantly got up and dressed. Yoongi was already in the cafeteria when I reached it. The spot next to him was tempting to take but I didn’t succumb. I sat across from the room from him instead and refused to look his way. Nobody would have the opportunity to put two and two together about us. I would show him that I could be discreet. After eating, we were given more activities to do in pairs. Yoongi immediately chose me and pulled me away from the others. We were behind the shed before he started talking. “I have a proposition for you.” That certainly piqued my curiosity. “I’m listening.”

“I need someone to fulfill a very specialized role in the company. I think you’d be perfect for the position.”

“I appreciate you thinking of me. What is the role?” His gaze flicked around to make sure nobody else was in earshot. We were completely alone, I couldn’t even see anyone else. “I have very active sexual urges. My appetite for women is insatiable, to say the least. Sex is on my mind most of the time and seeing you at your desk just outside my office every day is driving me crazy.”

“Um, sorry…”

“No, you’re not.” He grinned with a cheeky lilt of his lips. “You drive me wild, Y/N. I want you to put the personal in personal assistant.”

“I’m not sure if I completely understand,” I said. Was he talking about what I thought he was talking about? In this kind of situation, I definitely needed some clarification. He leaned in until I could feel his warm breath on my skin. “I want to fuck you, Y/N. Every day. At work. In every way imaginable. Whenever I want it, you will provide it. In exchange, you will receive an assistant to do your work and I’ll triple your salary.”

“You’ll be paying me for sex,” I stated bluntly. It was verging close to prostitution. I didn’t have a problem with that, but it still seemed wrong. “No, I will be paying you to be available to me. You do always have the opportunity to say no. I’m not going to force you into anything but you know what to expect when you turn up to work every day.” His proposal sent a thrill down my spine. I never really liked my job, it was boring and there wasn’t any room for promotion. With triple the salary and an assistant, I could actually live instead of just survive. Plus, the best thing about the deal would be having sex with Yoongi. Honestly, I would gladly fuck him for free but I wasn’t going to tell him that now.

I didn’t care about the details of our arrangement, as long as Yoongi and I were into it, then it didn’t matter. “So?” Yoongi prompted. “Say yes, Y/N. I need to be inside you every day. I need you to be stretched out over my desk as I spank that sexy ass of yours.” Well when he put it that way… “Yes, I’ll do it. I agree.” A smile split his face in two. He held out a hand and I shook it. We’d just made the deal of a lifetime, one where I’d get to be his good little assistant.

anonymous asked:

In the game MC always needs saving by the RFA, which kind of annoys me because I'm not the sort of person who relies on other people's help. What if the tables were turned and MC was the one saving the RFA (and maybe the minor trio if ya want) from something, whether it's something really small like an insect or something really big, like a house fire? Btw your headcanons are great - and so are you!

This is a great idea!! I personally hate this kind of stereotype in games, so I loved writing this!! I hope it’s what you wanted??Also, thank you so much anon!!! you’re great too ! (⁄ ⁄^⁄ᗨ⁄^⁄ ⁄) -Green

Yoosung:

-so, we’re going tame for this guy

-because like.

-he LITERALLY CALLS YOU and does his sappy I love you and sCREAM s because of a cockroach . He SCrEAMS

-so this will be that kind of scenario

-you two are just chilling at your apartment, on the couch and cuddling. Lots of cute kisses

-ily Yoosung

-and suddenly.,,,,

-A SPIYDER crawls right along your shoulder

-Yoosung is. Dead. He screams in your ear and practically THROWS you off of him

-once you see why ur like “ew gross” and just squash it. With your bear hands.

-Yoosung can’t process it because for One: it’s so great you can kill bugs without crying how do you do that

-Two: EW YOU HAVE SPIDER GUTS ON YOU???

-you chase him around the house with your gross hands

-he hates you he loves u tho

Saeyoung:

-you’re being hunted by people who want to get seven (cheesy I know, bear with me)

-ok. Okooookookk. Ok.

-SEVEN, BABY. BABY WE GET IT

-you just want to protect Mc, I know. But like. mc can do perfectly fine on their own thank you

-when he straight up ignores you and says it’s for your safety and shit??? AGAIN??? You thought you solved this??

-you’re not okay with that.

-you’ve told him several times you can protect yourself, and he won’t listen!!!! He just keeps working!!!! What’s he working on anyway???!

-you are. Anger.

-so one morning you find Saeyoung asleep and you go into his computer

-you feel terrible for it but you can’t take it anymore ok

-you find out where his enemies are. And you just leave. You left only a note saying you could take care of yourself, packed a bag and took his car.

-by the time Saeyoung wakes up, he’s hella confused because it’s around night

-“ I slept in oh no ” dance ensues

-rushes to his computer, is about to HACK AWAY before he finds your note

-lol he’s crying

-he’s freaking out and calling your name, searching the whole house

-he can’t find you a n y w h e r e

-right when he’s about to leave and look for you, you come in through the door

-you look hella beat up but you’re

-you’re smiling???

-he runs to you and just cries in your shoulder. You have to calm him down and after that you take care of the injuries

-after this FINE little incident, Saeyoung tries to be less protective and so insistent to do things on his own.

-lots of cuddles afterwards

Jumin:

-DAAAAAANNNNGG

-you two were going out for dinner, just a normal night for insanely rich people and you were laughing, having fun

-you’re at an obscenely expensive restaurant ( because you deserve the best of the best )

-when there’s a gunshot suddenly

-someone shouts to get on the ground and you all hide under tables

-Jumin is. Not okay. You are in DANGEr. He has to DO SOMETHING

-before he can call his guards your on your feet

-OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MC WAIT

-you literally tACKLE THIS FUCKER TO THE GROUND

-you throw the gun out of reach and just start

-mauling this dude

-you’ve never been more attractive in Jumins eyes oh my Goodness

-someone was smart enough to call the police, and you have him knocked up and ready to go like a little present by the time the police get there

-both you and jumin don’t want to be invaded by reporters so you leave ASAP and jumin

-this little boy doesn’t know what to do because GOD YOU WERE HOT but also YOU COULD HAVE DIED

-he won’t let you out of his sights for the rest of the week

Jaehee:

-HELL YEAH POWER COUPLE

-She does not underestimate you at all. you both practice your butt kicking stuff together

-whenever a guy does something inappropriate to either of you, the two of you just laugh and then KICK HIS ASS TOGETHER

-You save each other from everything all the time.

-everything is mutual. Jaehee is literally the only one in the group that backs off and let’s you fight your own fights, just lets you know she’s got your BACK BABY

-i love my wife…

Zen:

-gah…. b r o ,,…

-this guy  i n h a l e s  stereotypes

-smokes them every morning before work

-”Honey, cook me dinner!!!” “Babe, I’ll do the heavy lifting”

- A  G  H

-you are prepared. the next chance you get, you’re going to SHOW HIM

-Show him you’re more than his little s/o. you have the p o w e r to kick his ass. just know every time he says a stereotype, you decided to let him live.

-so one day you two are out on a date, right?

-he takes you to a store you like and the two of you split up.

-Zen comes back, wanting to show you an item he think you would like, when he sees a guy stalking up on you

-A L L MEN ARE W O L V ES

-as soon as he sees this guy grope you, he’s about to ROCKET.

-but then you just. do a 180 turn and slap that dick across the face, making him fall on the floor.

-AND YOU CASUALLY JUST KICK HIM IN THE GUT AND WALK OVER AND GIVE HIM A KISS

-he is honestly. so impressed.

-never will he under estimate you again. that was amazing

V:

-so, we all know how V feels the responsibility to take everything in his own hands and have lots and lotsa secrets

-you don’t get too mad when he does this to you, because you’re trying to understand

-but when you learn he’s putting himself in danger to ‘protect’ you, you have a hard time.

-I think instead of saving him from something, because really his only threat was rika and lol she gone now

-you would bring it up with him

-you both would have a very very long chat. I don’t think V wouldn’t not believe you if you said you could easily protect yourself

-he trusts everything that comes out of your mouth 1000%

-oh V oh precious V,,, falls for the pranks too easily you don’t even know if it counts as fun

-It’s just hard for him to accept that he isn’t alone. He doesn’t need to do everything himself.

-Oh V.

Saeran:

-oh BOY was this fun to write

-it was the worst thing ever don’t make me do this ever again I cried

-MAJOR ANGST UP AHEAD LOLOLOL

-after the Mint Eye, it took Saeran a long. long time to even think about a relationship. which is completely reasonable.

-And let’s face it, Saeran is obviously not the perfect partner.

-none of the RFA members are, they all need help please help them

-The only thing that threatened you in your relationship was Saeran.

-he would randomly get triggered and start screaming and throwing items

-you both had been together long enough to learn how to deal with these situations, but he had caught you off guard one day.

-you were coming into the living room with some healthy snacks, for both Saeyoung and Saeran because. These kids need a mom

-When you walked in Saeran was pinning Saeyoung to the ground and choking him

-and of course Saeyoung wasn’t fighting back. he was most likely thinking he deserved this somehow.

-you quickly dropped everything in your hands and dashed towards him

-you threw him off of Saeyoung, and you tried to get Saeyoung to run out of the room because he wasn’t a good help during these moments of PTSD for Saeran

-but he was just. frozen on the ground.

-Saeran tried to attack him again and you had to smack the vase he somehow got out of his hand, making it shatter on the floor.

-he decides to attack you after that and suddenly the both of you are rolling around on the floor, scratching and biting

-finally you muster up your strength and push him off of you, running to the next room

-he follows you

-you’re in Saeran’s room now and you throw him onto the bed

-you’re manhandling him into a blanket burrito, throwing his limbs where you want them to be as he tries to hit and bite you

-you get him trapped in the blanket and you make him lie down, and you throw yourself on top of him

-it takes him hours to calm down, but eventually he does

-it takes him days to get near you again. he feels disgusting. he feels wrong. he feels like d y i n g. every time he sees you he thinks how he hurt you

-you have to convince him as the days go by you weren’t severally hurt and you would always be there. you can protect yourself, even if it was from him. you can save yourself and you can save him.

-you can save him.