#got some recent work stress on my plate and it makes me more avoidant than usual

[yank-a-ton]

[trenidy-della]

I almost feel like I have been handling the recent stresses in my life too calmly.

My youngest step son was diagnosed with epilepsy on his first day of high school. He had an amazing first day and then was sitting at his computer like he normally does in the evening and just collapsed with a seizure. He went to the hospital via ambulance and had two more grand maul seizures through the night. He had one more later in the week, but it was a small tonic seizure. He has been free of them since his meds were upped to a higher dose for the last month. Then he had one at school today. He apparently felt it coming and got himself to the nurse before it came on. Then we were sitting at dinner this evening and he felt another one coming. It came on slow with an eye twitch that spread to a full clonic. It didn't last very long though the whole thing is tense and does feel like it is taking forever in the moment.

For both the initial incident a little over a month ago and today's I feel like I have handled it with more grace than expected. My anxiety is pretty high, but I am still functioning and getting stuff done. When my anxiety level gets too high usually I struggle with shutting down.

And while everything with the 14 year old is stressful enough, I have more on my plate than that. I have a new role as a Math Department Chair at my school, a department more than double the size of the staff that I had last year. We have been down two full teachers the whole year. Well mostly. We got one position filled briefly and then they quit after a week. So that has been great. (I am trying not to believe in curses, but damn, if the math department isn't cursed sometimes.) I FINALLY am supposed to have the department fully staffed by next week but I have been fielding a lot of angry parent emails and phone calls. I don't always do well with parents, and have spent a decent number of years in my career as a teacher actively avoiding parents if possible. Yet somehow I am almost revelling in dealing with the parents, as much as their disgruntled nature at the moment is stressing me out.

I've been able to count on everyone coming to work, or letting me know when something is wrong. The team comes to me and communicates with me. Which is awesome so that we can plan ahead and take care of issues as soon as possible, like covering classes this afternoon when one of the teachers got into a car accident this morning on the way to work. (She is okay. Very shaken up and had her airbag deployed so she will be out a few days.) This communication was not what I was getting from my smaller department last year. (One of the members of my team last year did a no-call, no-show AGAIN this year. I wrote him up for it at least 3 times last year. Their new manager is trying not to lose her mind.)

In addition to Department Chair and Sick Kid, I have also stepped up one of my secondary job titles of Lead Technology Liaison. I'[ve been meeting with the IT staff regularly to help finish the last of our transitions from our old parent company, and make sure that everything that we are doing in the process makes sense and is as seamless as possible. They are a great group and I am really enjoying working with them. It feels like we are finally making some positive changes that we were not able to make with our multinational giant corporate conglomerate overlords from before.

Oh... and did I mention that my Math Department is also onboarding as many people as all of the other departments combined? We had to clear house last year because of soooo much awful dead weight that was contributing to the downfall of our academic program. (When the kids say they learned nothing, I very much believed them.)

And while the list of stressors imply that I should be ready to collapse under the weight of it.... I feel like I'm not. I feel like I am rising to the occasion far better than I had to last year's challenges. I feel like I have calm and rationality in the face of it all, even when I feel like I have no reason to be.

I'm still not drinking, which I think has helped. I have continued to go to the gym and I work with a personal trainer at least once a week. My eating habits are okay... my sugar consumption is a little fucked since that seems to be the one place where my stress is really manifesting. Some dark chocolate something is just... *chef's kiss* when I want to run screaming from my responsibilities. I otherwise eat pretty healthy. Mostly "low carb" but high fiber and high protein.

I also did not expect this to get this long.

[sunghoonssl4t]

11:39pm on hillshire ave - look at us.

l.hs. x y/n

mdni !!!!

genre : establish relationship , heeseung x black female reader , date night

warning : smut , male oral receiving , unprotected sex ( be smart y’all .. )

( did not proof read this , don’t laugh if there are mistakes >.< )

you & heeseung have just come back from your monthly dinner date & it was .. intense to say the least. good intense. the only good emotion that has surrounded us in months. he’s been extremely busy with work , you’ve been super busy with volleyball games all over town , eventually leading up to you having to go out of state soon. the two of you have been totally stressed & jam packed with work & , on top of not being able to make time for each other , there’s been a lot of tension in the house as of late. you originally planned on cancelling our date for this month because you truly didn’t believe you guys had time for it , plus , neither of you honestly felt like dealing with each other at the moment. you’ve been getting into mini arguments , huge disagreements , we’ve been blowing up at one another , giving the other the silent treatment , leading up to not speaking entirely for some weeks. but , you still wanted to keep up tradition & try to fix the energy surrounding the relationship.

unfortunately those plans did not last at first & it started with the dinner location itself ..

as you made your way to the car , he opened my door & in return , you gave him a passive “ thank you “ .. that resulted in the door being slammed in your face & him slamming his car door as he got into the driver side. 20 extremely awkward minutes had passed & you noticed he wasn’t driving in the general direction of the restaurants you always go to. so you simply asked ,

“ where are we going ? ” glancing over at him to see him sternly looking at the road & gripping the wheel.

“ .. to eat. where else do we go on the last saturday of the month ? “ he muttered quickly with a hint of an attitude in his tone & with what looked to be a snarl on his lips. you just scoffed , getting completely annoyed before the night had truly even began.

“ well yeah , no shit .. i mean where are we eating at ? all the places are usually we go to are on the east side & we are headed downtown. i just wanted to know if we were going somewhere new this time , geez. ” you’d blurted , immediately rubbing your temples from stress.

“ clearly we���re going somewhere new if we’re not going the way we usually do y/n. i know you’re smarter than that , come on now. ” he spat & rolled his eyes , while still focused on the road.

you couldn’t do anything but sigh .. heavily. “ okay heeseung. “ was all that you could manage to say while tying to keep you calm & not explode.

now finally at the restaurant , you two get to the table , order & wait for your meals , still not saying a word. the air around you guys is still tense & you’re avoiding each other’s eyes at all costs , but it’s a little more manageable since you’re finally our of the car & around others.

“ y/n , i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have blown up in the car like that. it was a simple question & i didn’t need to react like that , i apologize baby. i understand if you’re still upset with me. ” he reaches for both of your hands & kisses your knuckles while keeping eye contact. repeatedly apologizing & smiling at you ,

you start to ease up a bit. he smiled .. you hadn’t seen him smile in almost two months. you start to pull your hands away & giggle to cover your cheesy smile.

“ it’s okay hee , i’m sorry too. we both been quite tense recently & have had a lot on our plates. thank you for apologizing. i accept it , but it takes two to disagree. you’re not to blame for everything , i want to apologize as well. you’ve been stressed , i’ve been stressed. us lashing out won’t make it any better. ”

you take a break to catch your breath , as you feel a lump in your throat. “ now please , let’s enjoy our dinner & have a good night. okay ? i miss us , i miss normal us. i miss you .. i don’t like fighting all the time or worse , going days & sometimes weeks without speaking. ” your eyes begin to gloss over , the tears yet to fall. as you came to the end of your plea .. you see him crack. his face softened even more & his body flinched as soon as he seen them forming , immediately wanting to come to your side of the table & comfort you. “ babe , it’s okay. “ you chuckled a bit to ease the tension & calm him down. “ i’m okay. i just want us to fix things tonight. i understand us not being able to make a ton of time for one another has been hard , but there should be no reason that we can’t even speak to each other normally in our own home , without an argument breaking out. ”

he let out a deep sigh & put his hands out for yours again. you gave them to him. “ i know y/n & we will. i don’t like that we’ve become like this , but we will bounce back. i’m glad we decided to still have this dinner , i can’t wait to make it up to you. “ he says with an all too familiar smile , but not the sweet , innocent smile he gave a few minutes ago. this smile had intent behind it , almost menacing & devious.

you smile back , but couldn’t stop thinking about the intention behind his. you’d resumed your dinner peacefully , getting everything off of your chests & just filling each other in on what’s been going on in the business aspect of your lives. once you got past that , it was almost like your stress-filled months never even existed. you were back to normal & you couldn’t be happier. you could tell heeseung was also glad y’all worked out this knot in your relationship. it seemed as though he had a plan , but you couldn’t figure it out. maybe you were looking too deep into things ..

the two of y’all entered the apartment , still feeling the happiness of your resolved relationship. after putting your coats on the rack , you made your way to the dining room table as heeseung grabs the take out boxes & stores them in the fridge. you heard him release a deep , relaxed sigh ,

“ tonight was so fun , i loved every part of it. ” grabbing a wine bottle before , closing the fridge , smiling to himself , as he takes two wine glasses from the cabinet. his smile then drops suddenly , “ well , except for the argument in the car .. but everything after that. ” he chuckles nervously , face immediately whipping to you , looking for a reaction.

you laugh & head over to him , “ i enjoyed tonight too my love. thank you so much for this. ” grabbing the sides of his face as you’d come to the end of the sentence. you look all over his face , observing every part of him. looking in his eyes , glancing down at his lips , even his nose , looking at his eyebrows , then to the dangling earrings you gifted him months ago that always accompany his ears. really looking at him. finally going back to his lips , you kiss him , what you’d been dying to do since he smiled at dinner. you felt his arms go to wrap around your body , even though he still has the two wine glasses in one hand & a wine bottle in the other.

the kiss was beautiful. slow , meaningful , soft , passionate , did i mention beautiful ? he smiles in between to break the kiss. he brings the glasses & bottle in between your bodies while still holding this painfully strong eye contact , “ would you like a drink , miss ? ” he spoke in almost a whisper , still in proximity as if he were to kiss you again.

“ of course i would , ” you whisper back , hands still holding his face. “ my pretty , pretty boy. “ you flash him a smile while looking back & forth between his eyes , then down to his lips & back into his eyes . you can almost physically see the blush creep upon his face as he turns his head away to smile even harder.

he pulls you into him by the waist to be closer , as if that even possible considering how close you were already standing from the kiss. “ i told you about calling me that y/n , ” his tone drops , but is still sweet. “ it drives me insane. ” he says into the shell of my ear , sending a shiver through your entire body.

i think i’m going insane.

“ i know , but i just can’t help it. you’re pretty , you’re mine , what a perfect world i live in. ” you laughed a bit as he wraps himself around you for a hug. the two of you just stand there , an almost unnoticeable sway starts to happen as you stand together. enjoying each other , feeling each other , basking in one another. something you’ve both been craving for what feels like forever.

once you finally pull apart he sets the bottle & glasses on the counter. while giving you a kiss on the forehead , he reaches down to grab your hand & leads y’all to the bedroom. he brings you to the mirror in the corner of the room & puts you in front of him. as you’re both looking at the reflection , he begins to pepper your right shoulder with kisses all over.

“ you’re so beautiful. ” he praises while rubbing his hands up & down the sides of you. soon you feel him bring his hand up to your shoulder to remove the strap of your dress , glancing up towards you in the mirror for a reaction. you stare back through the mirror & close your eyes , truly just enjoying the moment. he then moves up to your neck , your breathing begins to fall heavy & you release a breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding. he makes his way to the left shoulder , doing the same as before. planting mini kisses all over & eventually making his way up to the other side of your neck. while tilting your head to give him more access , you took your hand & ran your fingers through his hair , trying to push his face deeper into your neck as if that was even possible. it felt so amazing & heavenly , you wanted to feel every motion & emotion of the kisses being granted to you.

“ i’ve missed you. “ he mumbles against your skin in between the kisses on your neck. “ i’ve missed my pretty girl so so much. ” sighing against me as he removes the other dress strap from your shoulder. he slowly makes his way to unzip the dress & soon after , it drops to the floor. you then turn around to finally make face to face eye contact for a brief moment , as you go to unbutton his dress shirt. as you work on the buttons , you glance back up & happily met with his eyes already on you as he heads for his belt & pants to remove them. once the belt is undone , you take the waistband of his pants & underwear all together & drag them down , while keeping immense eye contact the entire way to the ground.

a slight smile forms on my face as you saw his expression contort , “ fuck , y/n .. ” he whispers in an almost exhausted tone. you came back up just as slow as you went down , coming in for a kiss you knew he was begging for at the moment. you reached down & grip him , while stroking ever so slowly. you wanted him to feel everything & wanted it to last. he placed his hands on the sides of your face , mimicking you from before , as he had nothing to grab onto. his face continuously goes from begging to angry to exhaustion as you continue the hard , slow strokes while coming up & grazing your thumb across his tip every now & then.

his breathing began to quicken & come heavier , as he started to become more verbal. this was music to your ears , you’d been waiting for this. you removed your hand from his member to push him a few steps back for him to sit on the bed. once he’s sat , you start to go down to get on your knees again , but he stops you by grabbing your chin before you got too low.

“ no baby. i ruined tonight , lemme make it up to you. ” he says , practically pleading to you , as he brings your face closer to his. you remove his hand from your face & shake your head side to side.

“ we both ruined tonight. just let me do this for you. ” you said kind of whining & continue to lower yourself back down. he always makes up an excuse for him to only pleasure you. but you weren’t letting him get away with it this time , you were gonna get your way with this one. he grabs your face again & forces you to look at him ,

“ okay well let me just go first , please y/n. ” begging at this point , but you simply remove his hands again & reach down to take him into your mouth. he lets out the most beautiful , stomach turning whine you’ve ever heard from him. you told yourself you could’ve came right then & there. he sighs deeply , “ ohh y/n. ” he goes to move the fallen hairs from your face to truly see you , you then look up & see a smile form on his face as soon as we lock eyes. you then start to move faster , allowing yourself to gag on him every now & then knowing he likes the feeling.

as if that was his cue , he started panting harder & started gripping the sheets even harder than before. his whines become uncontrollable moans & you could tell he was close. you took him out of your mouth leaving a collective of saliva on him. you grabbed him & started stroking him as fast as you could. you wanted to watch him cum all over your chest. you wanted to watch his face contort into a mixture of emotions , while hearing him as he was a moaning mess. he once again , grabbed your hand away from him , stopping you.

“ no , no , stop. i wanna finish inside you. with you. ” he said with a smile on his face , as he was trying to catch his breath from almost cumming. you smiled back with a simple nod & he then pulled you up to the bed next to him with a kiss. he lays your head towards the edge of the bed without breaking the kiss , then proceeds to kiss all the down to where you wanted him the most. you were so wet & throbbing for him , if you didn’t have him inside me within the next 30 seconds , you were sure you’d start crying. he begins to give your core kitten licks & small kisses.

“ heeseung please. ” you said with a deep exhale , while leaning up on your elbows for support to face him. he stops & brings his eyes to yours , “ thank you so much for the gesture , ” as you nod your head down to where his head is placed in between your thighs , “ but i need you to fuck me right now. i need you so bad , i physically cannot take it any longer. ” you’d began to beg , almost on the verge of tears.

he looked at you with the most seductive & sinister smile you'd seen in a long time , you could almost feel the shock jolt through your body instantly. he grabbed your legs & pulled you towards him , beginning to rub his tip at your entrance , teasing you. you started to squirm under him , becoming a mess.

he grabbed his member & began to insert himself into you so painfully slow , it was tortuous. you loved every bit of it & he knew that. he looked at you with a sly grin , seeing you become a moaning mess as he teases you with his slow movements. his confident mask then broke as he started to gain speed , succumbing to the feeling of being inside of you. the two of you together became a moaning melody , not caring about your volume , only focusing on each other & the feeling of one another. heeseung’s moans soon began to overpower yours as you both knew he was getting close ,

“ turn around , now please. ” he said quickly & quietly as he pulled out , helping you get on all fours. he made sure to move you a bit so you two were right in front of the mirror , looking back at each other through the glass.

there was no time wasted , as he was right back inside of you after the two of you were adjusted & your moans began to pick back up. he pushed your head further into the mattress , going deeper & harder than before. he then started back at his faster pace & it was driving you insane , pushing you closer to your breaking point. your moans then started to become incoherent & he brought your face up by your chin & guided your head to look straight forward in the mirror ,

“ look at you. ” he spoke to you in a whisper tone after releasing a satisfied sigh , “ look at us. look at how you pretty you are for me right now. ” you both were looking at the mirrored reflection of your movements , both in a daze & high on lust for one another.

“ heeseung fuck , please …. ” you managed to breathe out. “ oh my goodness .. ” everything was coming out in a slur as he was still pounding into extremely deep & fast. you dropped your head due to the overwhelming feeling of your high approaching. he quickly lifted your head back up , making you look at the two of you in the mirror ,

“ please what pretty girl ? tell me what you want. please please tell me. ” he spoke , also out of breath not slowing down his pace. he could tell you were getting close , he felt you continuously squeezing yourself on him becoming more & more sensitive to the feeling of him being inside you.

“ please cum with me. i want you to cum heeseung , i’m so fucking close .. i need you. ” you begged him , while still holding eye contact through the mirror , grinding yourself up against him at this point matching his rhythm.

he flashed you another smile , happy with the response. “ okay baby , i got you. let it go. ” he said with a sigh in a begging tone.

heeseung then began to pick up his pace just a bit more , you both were dangerously close & it didn’t take long for you to reach your highs quickly. the room was once again filled with the beautiful harmonies of your moans at max volume without a care in the world. your vision was clouded by the euphoric sensation , feeling your body shake uncontrollably while he still moved inside you with sloppy strokes. you felt him twitch inside you while he felt you clench yourself onto him , both of you feeling overstimulated by the feeling , neither one of you wanted to pull away from one another.

you both lied there , coming down from your extreme highs & trying to catch your breathe. as you were calming down m you found yourself staring deep into his eyes , as he did the same to you , neither in a rush to look away. “ thank you for tonight , it was very special. ” he spoke softly to him , meaning every word that left your lips. he reached down to brush your hair from your face & gave you that pretty smile he always did when he was admiring you.

“ thank you for being here with me. i’m not sure what i would do if you weren’t mine .. & i’m so glad i’m yours beautiful. ” he bent down to meet you in the middle for a kiss. or maybe eight kisses ..

he helped you up & ran to the bathroom to get the shower running for the two of you. “ y/n , you down for cookies & a movie ? you can pick the mo- ”

“ PRINCESS & THE FROG ! PRINCESS & THE FROG. ” you excitedly told him , headed to the bathroom to join him. he looked at you in the doorway & laughed.

“ for the third time this week ? okay .. ” he chuckled & pulled you into the shower with a forehead kiss. “ come on pretty girl. ”

[a-n-conrad]

Sparring Partners (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[Summary: Being the newest Avenger was a little rough. You appreciated how helpful most of the other Avengers were with getting you adjusted to life in the tower. However, you got a little too friendly with your new sparring partner. (She/Her Pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), biting, slight hair pulling), not canon compliant (I’m too stressed for real angst), “Avengers Tower” AU, swearing, fairly long

Request: From my Request Form (https://forms.gle/GRTQ1eQt8rk7jJgf6)]

It was an odd adjustment, being the newest member of the Avengers. You really couldn’t complain about living in Avengers Tower. It was a nice facility, with everything you could ever need. The training center was high-tech, the kitchen was always fully stocked, and the infirmary was nice enough that you didn’t mind having to be the group’s healer. But the other Avengers were interesting roommates to adjust to.

Everyone had their own schedule, and it took you a little while to adjust to it. It took you a couple weeks before you stopped bumping into people on their way out of the kitchen. And you eventually realized that unless you wanted to accidentally be caught up in one of Nat’s sparring matches, training in the middle of the day was basically a no go. But eventually you started to get used to it.

You had figured out that if you got up early, the only people you’d run into in the kitchen were Steve and Tony. And you could avoid having to actually talk to them right away if you made them breakfast. Steve usually appreciated something lean and healthy, though you usually added a bit of shredded cheese to the top of his scrambled eggs anyway, because he really needed to stop worrying so much. And Tony would usually be happy with some bacon and coffee. Honestly, it was just good to get him to eat something.

And then, for most of the day, you would work in the lab or the infirmary, occasionally running through a few tests with Bruce. He was one of the few Avengers who didn’t stress you out. You really couldn’t help it. You may get most of your healing ability from your powers, but you still had some medical training. And that meant that you knew full well that every member of this team was a different brand of self-destruction. So you and Bruce were working on a few projects to help the team take at least slightly better care of themselves.

And then you’d train at night. Not many people trained at night. Usually just you, though occasionally someone would wake up in the middle of the night, and need something to do. Nightmares weren’t exactly uncommon among the team. Tony would occasionally be up late, testing out some new gadget of his. Sometimes Nat would go running late at night. However, the most common late-night visitor to the training facility was Bucky Barnes.

You knew that he had some fairly bad nightmares, though he refused to talk to you about it. And you could tell that they had been getting worse lately. He was visiting a lot more often, and getting a lot more aggressive with his training. You could tell that something was wrong, but you knew that Bucky hated when you tried to counsel him. So instead, you had just been monitoring him, watching out for anything more concerning than usual.

- - - - -

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Steve asked you one morning, as he leaned against the counter, waiting for you to finish making breakfast, “Have you noticed something weird with Bucky lately?”

You raised an eyebrow at the question. You were still fairly new to the team, so it was odd for anyone to consider you an expert on any of the team members, let alone someone’s close friend, “Why do you ask? You’re his best friend, you should know if there was something odd going on.”

“Oh, well,” Steve seemed a bit sheepish, “It’s just that you’re like the resident doctor, so I was wondering if he told you anything. He’s just seemed a bit upset lately.”

“Well, first of all, Steve, you know that Bucky refuses to talk to me,” You start, beginning to move the completed food to the plates that you had set out, “And second, even if he did tell me something, you know that I couldn’t tell you about it, in good conscience.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything?” He gave you that stupid golden retriever pout as you handed him his food. You wondered if that was part of why Bucky kept him around when he was just a scrappy kid getting into fights that he couldn’t win. It was just so hard to say no to him when he made that sad, puppy-dog look.

“I mean,” You sighed, “He’s been up a lot, training in the middle of the night recently. So, I wouldn’t say I haven’t noticed anything. I’ve just been minding my own business.”

“And you should keep minding your own business,” Tony spoke up for the first time through a mouthful of bacon, “If he wanted to talk to someone about it, I’m sure he would. You don’t need to pick up on any of Capsicle’s nosiness.”

“Oh, please,” Steve scoffed, “Like you’re one to talk about getting up in everyone’s business, Tony.”

Tony flipped him off, grabbing his coffee and slinking away back to his lab. You weren’t sure if he had slept at all the night prior, but that was decaf coffee, so you were hoping that at the very least he’d sleep during the day. It was the little things that kept these heroes alive.

“Ok, anyway,” Steve drew your attention back, “What has he been doing?”

“Just training, Steve. He’s just been going off on the training dummies. It’s clear that he’s just taking something out on the dummies. He’s got it handled, Steve. He doesn’t need anyone up his ass to try and ‘fix’ him. It’s just gonna piss him off.”

Steve nodded as though he understood, though you could tell by the look in his eyes that the conversation wasn’t really over.

- - - - -

You knew something bad was about to happen when Steve walked into the infirmary, Bucky being dragged along behind him. They didn’t get hurt. And they rarely needed to stop in for check-ups. So you had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well for you.

“What can I help you two gentlemen with today?” You asked, pausing the task that you were originally working on.

“Well, I was just thinking,” Steve started, already giving you his stupid puppy-dog eyes, “You really haven’t gotten a lot of combat training...”

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” you set your face into a neutral expression, getting ready to try and turn down whatever scheme he was trying to pitch to you. You didn’t know Steve that well, but you knew that he had a bad habit of getting into everyone else’s business to try to fix everything.

“Well, I would offer to help, but I know that you prefer to train at night, and I usually train early in the morning,” he was starting to ramble like a nervous teenager, trying to get all of his reasoning before you could say no, “So I thought Bucky could help you.”

You should’ve known. He was trying to get you to help Bucky work through whatever was going on. And he was hoping that you would just go along with it. And you hated that the puppy-dog eyes were working on you again.

“Steve, I’m not going to force Bucky to train me. What do you think about that plan, Bucky?” You asked him, hoping that he would give you the excuse that you needed to say no. He just needed to say no for you, and you would both get out of this.

You saw Steve turn to face him, that look still on his face, and you knew that you were done for. You really should’ve known that Bucky couldn’t say no to Steve either, “Whatever, I suppose our healer shouldn’t get herself killed on missions. Just try to keep up.”

And with that, he turned and left. And you were left behind, not quite knowing how to react.

- - - - -

It was that night that your training started. Bucky walked into the training room about half an hour into your regular training session, giving you just enough time to warm up. The look on his face told you that he wasn’t thrilled about the idea, though you had a feeling that it was for a much different reason that you had.

“Alright, training mat. Now.” He demanded, his tone sharp and gruff. It reminded you a bit of your gym teacher in school. He had never been your biggest fan, for one reason or another.

“Don’t you need to warm up?” You asked a bit timidly, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was.

“No.”

You nodded, following him as he walked over to the area that was designed for sparring. It was padded enough that no one should get hurt in a reasonable fight. The sparring matches around here were rarely reasonable.

You situated yourself in the center of the ring, facing Bucky as he set his stance. He looked so focused, his brow set as he got himself ready. You realized that it had probably been a very long time since he had actually done any formal sparring. At least, without the intention to kill. But something about his face, set into a look that you couldn’t quite read and covered slightly by a bit of hair that was hanging in his face, made your heart skip a beat.

He was an attractive man. You knew that. You had heard from Steve almost constantly about how much of a ladies man Bucky was back in the day. But you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. He was always looking down. And he had definitely never looked at you with this much focus in his eyes before.

“Hit me,” he commanded, though there was a hint of friendly coaching in his tone. Like he was actually looking forward to training you.

“What?”

“Throw a punch. Hit me. I need to see where you’re at before I can teach you anything.”

You throw a sloppy punch with your right hand. He blocked it without even thinking. You tried again. And then tried a kick. Tried to get a new angle. Tried to sweep his legs out. You had tried everything you could think of, everything you tried being easily blocked or dodged. You were starting to get tired out, and Bucky hadn’t even thrown a punch. You threw another punch, aiming straight for his face, only for him to grab your fist.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into a chokehold, your back pressed firmly against his chest, and his metal arm wrapped around your neck as his other hand twisted your arm behind you. You could feel him breathing, just as steady as usually, and you had to wonder if he could feel how flustered you were as your body pressed against his. You could tell your heart was picking up, but you hoped that if he could feel it, he’d just attribute it to the training.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” He muttered, his mouth so much closer to your ear than you had expected. You could feel your cheeks heating up as his breath made your hair move just a little.

“Y-yeah,” you managed to choke out.

- - - - -

You two had been training like that for weeks, and it was starting to get to you. The close quarters, the skin to skin contact, it was going to kill you. If you wanted to know what a siren would look like to you if they existed, it would be Bucky Barnes, coated in sweat and getting ready to pin you to the training mat. And you were definitely having a hard time staying focused during your training.

It was especially late one night, you were guessing somewhere around 1:30 AM. Your training usually stopped around 12:30-1, but you were running a bit long. You had been especially distracted that night. Bucky had gotten a haircut for the first time in a long time, revealing his bright blue eyes. You could feel them on you as you trained even more than usual. You hadn’t minded his long hair, but when it was out of his face, you could see him much clearer. And that wasn’t always helpful.

There was a predatory glint to them as he got into position to spar, like a wolf stalking its prey. And as he loomed over you, pinning you to the ground after another failed attempt, you couldn’t say you minded feeling like prey.

“Alright,” Bucky groaned, his metal hand still pinning you to the floor, “What the hell is your deal tonight?”

You tried your best to hold your voice steady as he straddled your waist, his legs brushing against your own, “What do you mean?”

“Come on, (Y/n). You’ve been improving a ton lately, I know you can do better than this. So what’s got you all distracted?”

His face was so close to yours. His metal hand was holding both of your arms above your head, and his other was positioned right next to your chest. You could feel his body heat against you, and you were sure that he could feel your face heating up. There was no way he couldn’t figure it out by looking at you at this point. You were trembling, your eyes dilated as they locked onto his eyes. You looked like an absolute mess.

You could tell that he saw it too as his eyes scanned your body. You felt as though time slowed down as you watched his expression change. He raised an eyebrow, making you squirm a bit. Soon enough, though, a smirk spread across his face that reminded you of the stories that Steve told of Bucky from before the war, though the wolf-like glint never left his eyes.

“I see…” He drew out. You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but you saw his tongue dart out and flicker across his lips for just a moment. He leaned down a bit more until his face was next to your own, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “You know, Doll, if you wanted to do something else, you could’ve just asked.”

You swallowed deeply as you felt his warm breath brush against your ear. It sent a shock down your spine. You went to say something, only for the words to get jumbled in your mouth. You felt like a babbling idiot as your breathing refused to steady enough to let you get a single word out. And you felt a cold, empty feeling creep into your chest as he pulled back, leaving you without the extra body heat.

The tension between you was palpable, and you had been awake for long enough that you were starting to lose your impulse control. As Bucky leaned back, letting your arms go and smirking in a way that told you that he was proud of himself for people able to get under your skin so effectively, you couldn’t stop yourself. Before you knew it, you had flipped him onto his back, taking his spot on top.

You had caught him off guard, and the surprised look on his face told you that. But you had to admit he looked just as good down there as he did when he was pinning you down.

“Oh, you’re feisty,” He said, shifting to make himself comfortable, “But what’s your plan, Doll? Go on?”

You knew that he was egging you on, just trying to get you to do something. And it was working. You had been holding back the entire time. And your will was wearing thin.

You pulled him up a bit by the collar of his shirt, meeting him halfway in a passionate kiss. It was sloppy, but you really weren’t going to complain. You didn’t mind the clumsiness to it, especially once he sat up the rest of the way, pulling you even closer to him. Without even realizing it, you had started to grind against him, rolling your hips without meaning to. He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he pulled away.

It was then that you realized exactly what you had been doing. Your face was flushed, your hair was a mess from him running his hand through it, and you could feel the thumb of his metal hand press into the skin of your stomach since your shirt had started to slide up. You looked utterly desperate.

“Doll, are you sure you wanna do this?” You could hear the insecurity seeping into his voice, and you felt the grip of his metal hand loosen as he went to move it away. You knew Bucky was insecure about his past, and that his metal hand was a symbol of that. But at that moment, as you felt his hard-on press against you through your pants, there was absolutely no way you could possibly understand that.

“James Buchanan Barnes, shut the hell up and fuck me,” you demanded, though you left him space to back up if he wanted to. You didn't really want to pressure him into anything, but your brain was foggy.

Luckily for you, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he flipped the two of you over again, pinning you to the mat again. He had the wolf’s glint in his eyes again, and it made you weak. And as he bit into the crook of your neck, soft enough to make sure that he didn’t hurt you, but hard enough to leave a mark, you couldn’t help but let out a moan.

“Shh, (Y/n),” He whispered in your ear, making you rub your thighs together as the frustration and desperation built up between your legs, “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”

You nodded, biting your tongue to stop yourself from making too much noise as Bucky started to slide one of his hands down your body. You could see him admiring you as he pulled your clothing away. He held so much want in his eyes that you couldn’t even imagine feeling insecure under his gaze.

“God, doll, you really are just perfect,” He muttered as he lowered himself, his face nearing your cunt as he pulled your pants and underwear away. He was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

You could feel the cool air against your soaking wet pussy as he pulled you into the position he wanted. You could feel his breath and against your pussy, and that in itself was enough to make you hold back a moan. You needed him so desperately. And even as he moved to bury his face in your cunt, you could feel his eyes on you.

One of your hands moved to grip his hair as he started with a broad lick up the length of your core. The other moved to your mouth, hoping to, at the very least, suppress your whimpers. You weren’t even entirely sure what he was doing with his tongue as he went down on you. Your vision started getting soft around the edges as he swirled your clit around with his tongue. You were sure that if you weren’t covering your mouth and biting your tongue, you’d be screaming. You were surprised at how good he was at this, but you definitely weren’t going to complain.

The feeling in your lower gut began to tighten after about ten minutes, and you knew that you were getting close. Bucky could tell too, as your grip on his hair tightened, pushing his face in even more. He was enjoying watching you be so desperate for him. And as he slid his tongue into you and then across your clit one more time, he enjoyed watching you come undone even more.

It took you a few moments to recover from your high. Your chest was heaving, and your skin was glimmering with a thin layer of sweat. You looked like the most perfect mess that Bucky had even seen. He couldn’t help but sit up and admire you. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about you in the same way that you were thinking about him. And seeing you there, spread out completely in front of him, was what he was sure heaven would look like if he ever got to go.

After a few minutes, you had finally recovered, and you had decided that Bucky deserved a little bit of care in return. You flipped him back over, again surprising Bucky. He really did look pretty as he laid under you, and as you pulled his shirt off, you had even more to admire.

You could tell that he was a bit insecure, reaching to cover a few of the scars on his chest. But you brushed his hand away, choosing instead to distract him. You kissed slowly down his chest, choosing a few spots to nibble slightly, hoping to leave a few marks for him. As you reached the waistband of his shorts, you felt a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to pause.

“You really don’t have to do this, (Y/n). I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything,” he said, his blue eyes soft as they looked down at you. Soft, and insecure, and sweet.

“There is nothing that I want to do more right now, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

He contemplated for a moment, and you waited, despite wanting so badly to keep going. Before long though, he nodded, giving you the sign to go ahead.

You freed his cock in second, moving quickly out of need. It was nice for both of you to finally have all of your clothes discarded, and he was a sight to see. Bucky Barnes was modeled like a Greek god, and you couldn’t keep your hands off of him.

You tried your best not to rush things, giving his cock a few soft pumps and kitten licks before taking it into your mouth. He was trying not to groan just as hard as you had been as you bobbed your head, sucking desperately. He was big enough that you had a hard time fitting him all the way into your mouth, so you added a hand at the bottom to pump as well.

He started to buck into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. It was like a work of art to watch him writhe in pleasure as you sucked him deeper and deeper into your mouth, until you were gagging on his cock. His abs were starting to flex a bit on their own, and you could tell that he was getting close. And you pulled away.

“Fuck, that isn’t fair,” he groaned, trying his best to quiet his voice. But he couldn’t complain about the view as you pulled away, a string of saliva running from the tip of his cock to your perfect lips.

“Do something about it then,” you said, feeling bolder than you had expected yourself to be. And he took your invitation to heart.

You had been expecting it, but the feeling of his naked body looming over you, his eyes trained on you as his cock began rubbing against your entrance, was a kind of euphoria that you had never imagined. His lips were on yours in an instant, muffling your moans as he slowly pushed into you, filling you up completely. You couldn’t help yourself as you scratched down his perfect back, leaving large claw marks down the muscles of his back.

You threw your head back as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock already found the spot that made your eyes roll back into your head. It felt as though he was made for you, the way he felt so perfect inside of you.

He started to move slowly, thrusting softly as though he was scared to break you. Even then, he hit all of the right spots, but you needed more. You needed him to take you completely. And so you started to move with him, thrusting your own hips up in time with him, pulling him even deeper into you.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, “Goddamn, doll, you feel amazing. It’s taking everything in me not to fuck you with everything I’ve got.”

“Do it. Please.”

He looked at you surprised, still not fully believing that this was real, let alone that you were here, begging him to let go and ravish you. He searched your face for any sign of doubt, and found none. You wanted him, and that made him feel more worthy of your attention than he had before.

“Bucky, please, I need you,” you whined, and he felt the walls of your cunt tighten around him. And he couldn’t control himself anymore.

His thrusts were hard enough to actually slide you forward on the mat, causing you to wrap your leg around his waist. You were starting to see stars as he continuously pounded into you, hitting the right spots every single time. You couldn’t keep quiet, fucking him was better than anything you had imagined. And so he moved a hand over your mouth to help keep you quiet.

The two of you were a sweaty mess, completely focused on each other’s bodies. You couldn’t think of a single thing besides Bucky. Bucky and his perfect body, and his cock so deep inside of you that you forgot what it felt like to not have him pounding into you. The rest of the world was more than irrelevant, it was forgotten entirely.

“Fuck, babe, I’m so close,” He groaned into your ear, making your eyes roll back into your head again. You were close too. And as his cock hit deep inside of you again, you felt the coil in your stomach snap.

The walls of your pussy fluttered and flexed around his cock as you came undone again. Velvety, warm, and wet, massaging his cock as you screamed into his hand. He couldn’t hold it back. He buried himself in you one last time, rougher than before even, and sprayed hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up even more.

You couldn’t remember your own name when he was done. The world around you felt as though it wasn’t real. Everything felt warm and fuzzy, the only cold coming in as Bucky pulled out of you, leaving you empty and exposed to the air. He collapsed onto the ground next to you, pulling you to his chest. You felt his breath heave in time with your own. It was the first time in a long time that either of you felt at peace.

“Well, doll, we really should get cleaned up and get to bed before anyone else wakes up,” Bucky sighed, his voice a bit gruff and unsteady.

You groaned softly and buried yourself into his chest.

“You can stay the rest of the night in my room if you want. But you definitely need to shower,” He added. And you reluctantly agreed.

(A/N: So, this is my first time writing smut... I honestly... got a little too into the sparring idea. Oops.)

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwynriel’s first fight

I was inspired to write this piece from a post by @himadrij so I hope you enjoy!

"You two have to start talking." Cassian groaned in frustration.

"I do not know what you are talking about. We are talking." Gwyn stubbornly crossed her arms after pushing her plate away. Azriel sat quietly at the opposite end of the table.

"Do not play ignorant." Nesta rolled her eyes. "You need to start talking to each other. About whatever is upsetting you." Nesta switched between the mates with a hard glare- one that would normally have the receiver cowering.

"I am not upset. Anything you would like to share Gwyneth?" Azriel lifted his eyebrows while staring her down. His cool demeanor over the situation infuriated the priestess. She was in knots over the situation meanwhile he was as cool as a cucumber. His shadows normally gave away how he truly was feeling, but they were nowhere to be seen. It was as if he was hiding them to punish her and it was working.

"Nope." She popped the P as she said it. If he wanted to be stubborn, well then she could play that game as well.

"What did you do to piss her off, Az?" Cassian turned to the Shadowsinger with a smirk. Gwyn felt smug that Cassian assumed it must have been something Az did to piss off Gwyn and not the other way around. Az simply rolled his eyes. If he was not going to answer, she might as well do it for him.

"Azriel agreed to go on his fourth dangerous mission of the month even though he knows my birthday is coming up." Gwyn's tone was pleasant even though she was feeling anything but. Cassian cringed as Gwyn spoke while Nesta sent Az a glare. The red head had not even told her best friend for the reason of the fight until this moment.

"And as I have told Gwyneth, this is my job. Rhys asking is simply a formality. It is not a choice." Azriel did not spare a glance to his mate. He kept his eyes on Cassian as he spoke.

"And as I told Azriel, Rhysand would allow him to skip one mission for my birthday."

"Skipping one mission could put this court, and therefore my mate in danger."

"He could send one of his other spies. He has so many at his disposal that I am sure there is one competent enough."

"My other spies are busy doing other jobs."

Cassian and Nesta's heads moved back and forth as they watched the verbal sparring that was occurring at the dining table. Gwyn was never one to back down from a fight and she would not start now. Azriel was being unreasonable as he normally was when it comes to his work.

"Well I am certain one of them could make time if you asked." A hard glare was set on the pretty females face. She did not want her mate to see how hurtful his decision was.

She never wanted him to feel as though he had to choose between his job and her, but she also never thought that he would choose his job every time. The truth was that Gwyn missed him. She hardly ever saw him anymore, and could not help but feel like he was doing this specifically to be away from her. Azriel decided not to respond. He turned back to his plate and roughly speared a piece of chicken. Cassian seemed apprehensive to say anything for fear of making it worse. Gwyn watched as a silent conversation occurred between Nesta and Cassian before the latter spoke up.

"Birthdays are important Az," he started off slowly. "Perhaps, you can ask Rhysand to delay the mission until after." Gwyn started to perk up at that. It was not a half bad idea- a promising compromise, she thought. Her hope was fading by Azriel's continued silence.

"Or we could celebrate early?" She decided to extend an olive branch. She remembered Nesta mentioning that relationships were all about compromise. She could certainly try if Azriel was willing. However, his stubbornness seemed to win out.

"Gwyn," he finally turned to look at her to plead with her. "This is for your own safety- for the entire court's safety. I do not have time to focus on silly birthday parties. I need to do my research and then leave as soon as possible. We can celebrate when I get back. I just do not have the time right now." Gwyn was so frustrated she groaned. She could tell Nesta and Cassian wanted to be anywhere other than here, and she could not blame them.

"You never have time for me anymore. It is like you do not even enjoy my company." It was not entirely true, but it was how Gwyn had been feeling as of recently. He was consumed with his work. She understood that there were parts of his job that she could never know about, but it was starting to feel like that was every part now.

"I couldn't possibly imagine why when we have such pleasant conversations as these!" He shouted in frustration. The sarcasm was dripping from his words so heavily that they stung much deeper than any of their previous bickering. Azriel's shadows finally let loose as he pulled at strands of his hair. They were waving about more chaotically than Gwyn had ever seen before. One reached out to her and she quickly pulled away. She did not want to be comforted by him or his shadows right now. Gwyn looked down at her plate- she could not stand to look at him currently. All of her insecurities began to attack her.

"Gwyn," he began. Remorse coating every word. "I am so sorry. I did not mean that. I was speaking out of anger, it is not true. I would spend every second of every day with you if I could." She heard as he pushed his chair back. She knew he was going to come over to her, but that is not what she needed right now. She needed space. She quickly got up as well.

"Sorry to have ruined your dinner." She looked at Cassian and Nesta as she said it, but the words were meant for Azriel as well. Nesta's face was as soft as she had ever seen it. Cassian had the same look on his face.

"Gwyn," Azriel tried again as he continued to move towards his mate. Gwyn did not want him though. Not while she was feeling so vulnerable.

"I will speak to you later." Was all she could manage before she fled to her room. Nesta had given her a room in the House of Wind which Gwyn would be forever grateful for- even if she mainly stayed in Azriel’s room nowadays. However, she felt more overwhelmed here than she ever did in the library.

                                             +

"Fuck." Was his only thought as he plopped back down in his chair and pulled at his hair. He truly did not need this added stress.

"You will make this up to her." Nesta snapped like the viper she was. "You will make it up to her, and then you will be here to celebrate her birthday." Her glares were enough to unnerve Azriel.

She departed just as quickly as his mate. He groaned once more. For as long as he lived he would remember that look on Gwyn's face. He had not meant what he said. His anxiety had reached new levels lately with all new nightmares plaguing him at night. Nightmares of losing his mate in torturous ways. Doing his job seemed to be the only relief. As long as he knew everyone's secrets, he knew his mate was safe. For some reason, she could not understand his overwhelming need to protect her from all potential threats. He knew he would spill any of the night court secrets if it meant keeping Gwyn alive. He had to assume that his enemies knew that too. His shadows continued to swirl around him angrily. They wanted his mate as much as he did. He remembered how she pulled away from them- not wanting comfort from them for the first time ever. He knew in that exact moment how much damage he did, and it was extensive. He would grovel for weeks if he had too.

"Smooth move." Cassian piped up in between bites of green beans. Azriel sent him a withering look.

"I should probably go check on her."

"I would give her some space if I were you. You might want to rehearse what you are going to say anyways since you seem keen on putting your foot in your mouth." Cassian raised his eyebrows at him. Azriel grudgingly agreed with his best friend.

Perhaps, he should practice what he wanted to say. It might help him to avoid this exact situation. He had been frustrated that his mate did not seem to understand how paralyzing his anxiety was. However, she was not a mind reader, and he had never properly explained to her why he felt the need to be consumed with work. He would give her some space, grovel for at least an hour, explain himself, and then pleasure her for at least the next week straight to start off as an apology for the awful words he said to her. Then he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her.

                                             +

Gwyn let out a sigh as she sunk down into the bath water. The warmth felt good on her stiff muscles. Trainings had been extra long recently since her mate was otherwise preoccupied and she found herself not wanting to be alone with her thoughts. Gwyn rested her head against the back of the large tub, flipping her hair so that it rested outside of the tub to avoid the water. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax. Well as much as she could given her current emotional state. Part of her knew that Azriel was just lashing out- that he did not mean what he said. But the other part, the insecure part, was still undecided about how truthful his outburst was. She could not fathom any other reason for his constant need to be on missions and away from her. She attempted to distract herself with her mind-stilling, but before she could get too far into it, foot steps sounded in the adjourned bedroom. It was his way of alerting her to his presence. Gwyn continued to ignore him, but she could feel Azriel looming over her from behind. Rough, calloused hands scraped over her exposed arms, brushing against her shoulders and neck, and finally resting in her hair. She kept her eyes firmly closed. He would not win with a few sweet words and tender touches- not this time.

“Gwyn.” He whispered.

His lips brushed against the outer arch of her ear causing a shiver to ripple through her body. She internally cursed herself for giving him any sort of reaction, even an involuntary one. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, then the top of her breast. She felt his tongue slide over her skin which finally got him a reaction. She quickly shoved away from him and pushed herself towards the opposite end of the tub, turning around to face him as she did so. Gwyn pulled her knees up to cover her breasts. There was no way he was getting a free show out of all of this.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” She settled a glare at him.

Gwyn knew he felt guilty. It was written plainly on his face. She did not even have to see his shadows, which he was hiding away, to know that they wanted to touch her. Her glare lessened only slightly into a grimace.

“Gwyneth Berdara, I love you more than anyone and anything. I love you more than my job, or this court, or even my own shadows. I love you so much that it is almost paralyzing. I love you so much I can picture all the ways I could lose you- all the ways my enemies may take you from me. I love you more than Rhysand or Cassian. I love you more than the stars in the sky. I will never be able to express to you how sorry I am, but I promise you I did not mean it. I love every second I spend with you.” He was so genuine as he said it that Gwyn’s eyes began to water. She quickly wiped at them.

“Who knew you had such a way with words?” She muttered. Finally, Azriel reached out to her with a shadow. She hesitated for a second before allowing the shadow to caress her face. Az harshly wiped away a tear of his own.

“You are right. I will send someone else on this mission.” She wanted him to spend it with her cause he wanted to, not because he felt guilty. Gwyn voiced the insecurity that had been eating away at her for the last several months.

“Why are you so keen to be away from me? You throw yourself into dangerous mission after dangerous mission with no regard for how anxiety inducing that is for me. I am constantly worried that you are hurt or in trouble or cauldron forbid dead. You say that you can picture your enemies taking me away while I sit comfortably in the night court surround by the most elite warriors. I picture your enemies taking you away from me while you engage in dangerous activities. Do you not see how unfair that is?” His face seemed so tortured. As if he was finally expressing how anxious he had been feeling lately.

“You are right. It is unfair.” He started slowly. He moved closer to her side of the tub to intertwine his fingers with her. “I was not looking at it from your perspective. I was consumed by the idea that if I could keep on top of all the information I found, then I would be the first to know if anyone had something planned against you. I was being taunted by images of my brothers discovering you, and continuing the torment from my childhood.” At the mention of his brothers, Gwyn softened completely. She knew his childhood was his biggest vulnerability. She just wished he told her this sooner. “I know how capable you are. I trained you myself, you won the blood rite for fucks sake. I just want to protect you in the way I was never really able to protect my mom- or myself for that matter.”

Gwyn shifted onto her knees to grab Azriel’s face with both her hands. He did not seem to care that she was getting water all over him, so she did not pay it much mind either.

“I understand. I appreciate you telling me. I know that’s hard for you, but do us both a favor in the future? Talk to me about it. I have been going out of my mind thinking that I make you unhappy when all I need to do is kick your ass in hand to hand combat to ease your anxiety.” They both had slight streams of tears on their face. They were not sobbing, but quietly crying together. Az let out a sharp laugh at Gwyn’s final words. It had her smiling through her tears as well.

“If you beat my ass in hand to hand I will bring you on my next mission.” He rolled his eyes as he said it, so Gwyn knew he was joking. It sparked a brilliant idea in her mind though.

“That is perfect Az!” She brought his face closer to smack a quick kiss on his lips.

He tried to lean in again for something more, but she held his face back firmly. His hands came around her waist to bring her closer. It was as if her enthusiastic kiss was an all clear sign for him. He knew it was safe to touch her intimately after she made the first move.

“What’s perfect?” He asked when she dodged his second attempt at a kiss.

“I should go with you on missions! You have anxiety about my safety? I will never be safer than when I am at your side.”

“You think the answer to my worries over your safety will be to bring you on my very dangerous missions instead of you sitting comfortably guarded by elite warriors as you so graciously mentioned earlier?” He quirked one eyebrow in her direction with his lips turning up ever so slightly into the barest of smiles. It was the one he normally gave when he was teasing her. She nudged his shoulder slightly.

“Okay when you put it that way it does not sound as perfect, but come on! I can help you research each mission, we can come up with a game plan, a backup plan, an A, B, and C plan, and then we will both be happy because we can protect each other.” Her smile was so brilliantly happy that Azriel could not find it in himself to give her an outright no. He gave her a soft smile before tucking her under his chin for a tight hug. She reciprocated by squeezing him with her wet arms. His shadows were finally content to sit on his shoulders and stroke Gwyn’s back every so often.

“I will discuss it with Rhys.” A high pitched squeal that he had only ever heard on rare occasion broke out from her throat. He threw his head back in laughter he could not quite contain.

Gwyn hopped out of the tub so quickly Azriel worried she might slip. She was already tugging him into the room she occasionally occupied when she wanted time alone.

“Where are you taking me?” He could not stop his laughter even if he tried. The image of his naked mate pulling him around with a bright smile was enough to quell his anxiety for the moment. She sent him a suggestive smile, one that always promised a good time.

“To find the ribbons, of course.”

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Here’s what I have done of that other fic I started. I want to make it a much longer one-shot, and I will if anyone likes it. It’s based on this post that has stuck with me for ages, but I only really started thinking about recently.

~^~

Lucas didn’t know what to expect.

Realistically, he didn’t think his parents were suited to this type of responsibility. His dad made the indisputable point that they could do with the extra money. Lucas didn’t bother telling him that might not work out if the student left them within a week. They could barely take care of their own child, and yet they thought it was a perfect idea to bring another into the house.

Well, not exactly a child. He couldn’t decide if that fact was better or worse. Lucas got along fine with people; he had a good group of friends, and most of their classmates liked him. He could mesh with people he had just met at parties or the skatepark or even school. Acquaintances were easy to make. People his age didn’t really scare him.

Maybe he didn’t have the best confidence around pretty boys. But none of them scared him as much as Kes, and Kes was his best friend, so he thought he was probably doing pretty well in that case, too.

He wasn’t sure how living with someone else his age (and a stranger at that) would be. His confidence and his comfort levels were feeling low. Someone from another country, someone that he’d have to live with and go to school with and exist with on a very regular basis—that was a little frightening. That had Lucas feeling unprecedented levels of stress in the week before the exchange student arrived.

It didn’t help that they ended up being the most beautiful boy Lucas had ever seen.

~^~

Lucas could admit on sight that Jens Stoffels was one of those pretty boys that left him tongue-tied and sweaty-palmed any time he was forced to interact. Which, considering their situation, happened to be quite often. On the other hand, he didn’t want to admit that Jens Stoffels scared him more than Kes. (But Lucas was starting to think he most certainly did.)

He had been standing in the hallway, lingering awkwardly, when his father had opened the door for the first time. He caught sight of the tall boy with the dark hair and sharp jaw and instantly felt his breath catch. He watched the boy stumble through a greeting, a clunky mister-and-surname hello that was met with a too enthusiastic response of, “Please, call me Hugo. You must be Jens.”

Lucas didn’t have the strength to tease his father that of course, this was Jens, they’d been expecting him for the past month. He was too busy staring to do much of anything else. He had no right, in the moment, to tease anyone.

Then Jens’s eyes met his, and Lucas watched him falter.

Then Jens smiled, and Lucas was gone.

Hugo took it as a reminder to beckon his son forward and urge him to take Jens’s bags. They both ignored Jens’s protests, which trailed off rather abruptly when Lucas’s fingertips traced the back of his hands when grabbing the handles.

Lucas didn’t think he imagined the way Jens’s breath hitched as he glanced up at the boy, but he didn’t know what to do with it. The moment went ignored.

“Hey,” Jens greeted, low and hesitant, and Lucas realised he was scowling.

It was easy to soften his expression in the face of Jens’s nerves, but it was harder than he expected to smile. The horde of butterflies in his stomach and buzz of static in his head left him able to do little more than nervously lick his lips and nod. “Hey.”

“This is Lucas,” his father introduced him, as oblivious to his son’s state as ever. “He’ll show you to his room. We have your bed already set up, and he cleared some space. I hope you really don’t mind sharing.”

Jens offered Lucas another smile, wider than the first. “No, I really don’t mind.”

~^~

Jens took in the bunk beds with a mixture of confusion and amusement. He glanced over at Lucas. “I thought you were an only child?”

“I am.” Lucas gestured vaguely. “It’s for—we changed it.”

“You went out and bought bunk beds?”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile slightly, now. “Well, I didn’t, no.”

Jens’s cheeks reddened, and he shifted the bag he still held onto to his other hand. “You know what I mean. Your parents.”

Lucas shrugged. “Another separate bed wouldn’t have fit. It doesn’t—you don’t mind, do you? I’ve been sleeping on the bottom, but we changed the sheets so you can take whichever—“

“Cool,” Jens cut him off, tossing his bag onto the top bunk and then hoisting himself up onto it. He barely avoided knocking his head into the ceiling. He raised his brows at Lucas. “Cosy.”

“Seriously, you can take the bottom.”

“I certainly can.” Jens nodded his agreement, and the glimmer in his eyes made Lucas shuffle on his feet. “But if it’s where you’d rather be, I won’t argue.”

Lucas stared at him for a moment, then realised he was doing it and quickly dragged his gaze away as Jens became more amused. He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said loudly, ignoring Jens’s grin. “Cool. I can, uhm, show you the rest of the house, if you want.”

Jens nodded and lithely took two steps down the ladder to the floor. “Cool,” he repeated.

~^~

Dinner was a less awkward affair than Lucas expected. His mother was doing well and seemingly intent on proving it, brushing off Lucas’s offers of help and glaring at his looks and questions. He could tell Jens adored her instantly, and seemed more comfortable referring to her as Tess than he was using Hugo. Lucas had to admit, though, that his father was also on his best behavior, and Lucas himself was probably the most awkward person at the table.

It was just that, Jens was right beside him, the chairs tucked so close together at the small table that Lucas could feel his radiating warmth. He held himself stiffly in place so as not to lean towards it, and felt silly and uncomfortable in doing so.

“Are you nervous about starting on Monday, Jens?” Hugo asked, cutting through his food with half of his attention.

Tess huffed. “Of course he is. But that’s normal. And he’ll have Lucas looking after him.”

Jens didn’t seem to mind being spoken for. He glanced over at Lucas again instead, and Lucas diverted his gaze, cheeks flushing. He wasn’t, however, overly embarrassed. Jens had snuck just as many sideways looks at him.

“Actually,” Lucas said, then had to clear his throat. “You skate, right? I saw you brought a board.”

Jens nodded. “A little.”

“I was thinking we could go to the park tomorrow. You can meet Kes and Jayden.”

Hugo snorted, and Lucas shot him an unimpressed look. “What?” he demanded.

“No, nothing, nothing,” Hugo said, hasty. “It’s just a funny choice, if your goal is not overwhelming him on his first day here.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.” Then, to Jens, “Really, they’re cool. Just a little excitable. You’ll be fine.”

Jens nodded again and smiled, small and secretive. “Sure. You’ll be looking after me, right?”

Lucas smiled down at his plate.

~^~

Lucas still hadn’t fully realised how awkward it would be until they were expected to go to bed. It became fairly obvious when he was standing lost in his own bedroom and Jens started stripping in front of him.

He made a noise in his throat, high and startled, and quickly looked away from sturdy shoulders and lithe legs. He curled his hands into fists and crossed his arms over his stomach, breathing carefully. After a second, he realised standing there like this was probably worse, and forced himself to move to his wardrobe, digging through the drawers for something to sleep in. When he turned around with a worn t-shirt and sweats, Jens was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and staring at him.

“Sorry,” Jens said, curious. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Lucas shook his head. “No,” he tried, then cleared his throat. “I just wasn’t…” He shook his head. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

Jens eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “Some people prefer their privacy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He scratched at his arm, then added, “I hope you don’t feel put out. It’s probably weird opening your space like this.”

“It’s weird for you, too, isn’t it? You just got here,” Lucas shrugged again. He was being a terrible host. He was being terribly obvious.

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing is stressing me out more than I expected,” Jens admitted, laughing slightly. Lucas was terrible. “But I guess—I don’t really do awkward? I know we’re supposed to be a good match. So I guess I came with the idea already in my head that we’d be friends.”

Lucas stared at him.

Jens shifted awkwardly and gave a dry, lopsided smile. “But I guess it’s not the same on your side.”

“No,” Lucas blurted. Then, realising how that sounded, rushed to explain himself. “No, I—I hoped we’d be friends, too. We will be. I mean, I still want to be. Friends. You’re cool. It’s just that we only met, and it’s like, right into the deep end. But there’s nothing to say we won’t be friends.”

He was rambling. Of course. Jens didn’t do awkward, and Lucas was being the most awkward person on the planet. That wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

How was this supposed to go again?

He’d never had a plan to start with, but considering all thoughts fled his mind at the first sight of Jens, he doubted it would have been much help. He was a mess.

And they’d just met.

Despite everything, Jens seemed pleasantly amused by his disastrous attempts at connecting. There was a lovely curl to his lips and an adorable tip of his head as he returned, “Okay. Good.”

He sounded so genuinely relieved, so contented at the thought of Lucas agreeing on his hopes of friendship, that Lucas couldn’t help but smile back.

Then Jens added, “Better to keep my pants on, though? At least until there’s a little more familiarity in place.”

Lucas wanted to die. He was going to die. Why was he so embarrassing? So clueless and so obvious at the same time? This was only the first day.

Jens could be here for the entire year.

“It’s sexist to assume shoulders are only sexual when they’re women’s,” Lucas said, trying to keep Jens’s jokingly serious tone, and quickly realising the response sounded better in his head. And that it probably didn’t seem all that joking, if his cheeks were as red as they felt.

But Jens laughed, and his eyes sparkled, and Lucas was truly and seriously fucked. Jens wiggled his eyebrows, said, “Can’t argue with that,” and pointedly squeezed Lucas’s shoulder on the way past, and oh no, Lucas was truly and seriously gay, wasn’t he?

Lucas mustered a tiny laugh in return, looking over his shoulder to watch Jens go. His sight caught on the still exposed calves, the dimples in the back of his knees, the ends of strong thighs, the curve of—

He whipped his gaze away and took another careful breath, and Jens simply continued down the hall to the bathroom, oblivious. Lucas stripped off his hoodie, recognising that this was the safest time to change, and told himself to get a grip.

Friends, he thought, with another breath.

Cool.

[dirtyrick]

The Scientist

Wow. It's been almost 5 years since I last wrote fanfiction on here. With the new fantastic season 5 out, I decided it was time I made a comeback. This is an idea I've had since 2016, but I truthfully couldn't figure out how to weave this web. Now, I think I do. Please enjoy, this really is my baby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth woke me up in my workroom at around 6am, just a little bit before heading off to school. She usually did this, as she had more motivation to cook us breakfast than I did. I was surprised to see a stack of pancakes sitting on the table when I came downstairs. She had set the table so perfectly, it never failed to make me smile. I rubbed my eyes and sat down, ready to dig in when she came back into the dining area from her room. She handed me some papers with a gleeful smile on her face.

“Dad, could you please sign these papers?” she asked me.

I raised an eyebrow as I looked at them, “volunteer work?”

She nodded, “yes, usually it’s a graduation requirement, but since I'm only a sophomore I need a parent’s permission to get it done early.”

Pulling a pen out of my pocket, I sighed, “Don’t you already have enough extracurriculars? Don’t spread yourself so thin, you’re only 14.”

She sat down on the chair across from me with a very stubborn look on her face. She wanted to be a surgeon so badly she was willing to waste so much of her youth on things that would look good on college applications.

“Dad, I'm about to be 15. I want to help people. Plus, if I volunteer for the hospital, they’ll know my face by the time I start medical school!” she seemed so excited for this opportunity. I put the pen to paper and signed. “just make sure your home enough to spend time with your old man.” I told her as I handed her the papers. She smiled at me, with a squeal of excitement escaping her lips. “thank you, dad!” she got up and hugged me.

I’d do anything to make my baby girl happy, even if it means I will see her just a little less.

Beth seemed to enjoy her time volunteering, coming home with a big smile every evening. She would tell me what she did in the day with a joyous look in her wide eyes. But as the weeks went by, those smiles turned to furrowed brows and worry in her eyes. She stopped telling me about her days. She would often shield me from her emotions, but I’ve never seen her this worked up about something.

“Beth, please. I-I know something is wrong.” I pleaded. We were seated at the kitchen table, after having a wordless dinner.

“Nothing is wrong, dad. I have a lot of homework,” she said, avoiding my gaze and my question. She began to gather the medical books she had placed on the table. I still pushed for an answer.

“Are you getting bullied? Are you concerned about your grades? Do you have too much on your plate?” I asked. My intention was to bombard her with questions to overwhelm her, to get her to spill. “is it a boy? It’s a boy, isn’t it? I could take care of him if you need me--”

“It’s not any of those,” Beth stated, her voice full of sorrow. She turned slowly and began heading up to her room.

I was at a loss for words. You could almost see how broken she was. It made me a bit insecure that she felt like she couldn’t talk to me about this issue that was clearly weighing heavy on her mind. Granted, since Diane passed away, I had thrown myself into my work, but I always thought I made enough time for Beth. Maybe not.

The next day I reached out to her teachers, and they shared the same concerns.

“Beth is an extremely good student. however, I have seen her slipping recently. I’m glad to see you’re reaching out, usually, I have to do all that.” her English teacher told me, then proceeded to complain about everything under the sun.

“She has seemed very depressed as of late. She’s been asking about sheet music for The Cure.” her band teacher informed me.

“She constantly carries a book about rare diseases and reads it during my lectures. We haven’t even reached that chapter yet!” her health teacher told me.

That last teacher made me raise an eyebrow. Rare diseases? Why would Beth need to know about rare diseases? I had a feeling and not a very good one.

The next day I took Beth to her volunteer hours, as she was about to get out of the car, I told her “I want to see what they got in store for you today. Mind if I tag along?”

She looked concerned, “I’m not sure if they’d let you…”

“I promise I won’t cause any suspicions," I said as I got out of the car, grunting a little. These bones sure aren’t what they used to be. As I followed her into the large beige building, the stale hospital smell hit my nostrils like a truck, as did the memories. This is the hospital Diane took her final breaths in. Beth may be too young to remember, but I sure as hell do. Some of the orderlies even look familiar, as they glance at us with what seem to be knowing eyes. They look at Beth’s dismal eyes, then look at mine—they just know something happened that shook our family.

We turned a maze of several corners which lead to a large orange elevator with the words ‘elevate your health!’ printed in big white letters. I rolled my eyes. Hospitals aren’t really places for much healing when it’s really needed. When we got in the spacious elevator, I got my first good look at Beth since we got out of the car. Worry as written all over her, she was desperately avoiding my gaze. Her small fingers twisting themselves in knots as she fidgeted. It was something here, it became blatantly clear. Her worry was contagious, as I suddenly felt a sharp stab of thoughts hit me.

The elevator dinged, I followed Beth toward a nurse’s station. The woman behind there smiled at us as we approached. Her red curls bounced as she got up from her rolling chair. Beth mustered a brave face, “Hello Nurse Bernice, this is my father, he wanted to see what I do here.”

The nurse looked at me, her deep amber eyes complimented her dark complexation, her smile lines very pronounced. She was probably late 30s, early 40s at the most. I almost forgot to introduce myself, “I’m Rick Sanchez. I just wanted to see what itinerary you have laid out for my daughter. She’s been coming home stressed recently.”

“Well, Mr. Sanchez, I don’t think we have too much on her sweet little shoulders,” she said as she grabbed a clipboard and handed it to Beth, who was smiling sheepishly. “Now Beth, you’re going to be checking in on your regulars this afternoon. Mr. Opiman got discharged this morning, so it’ll only be Mr. Marion and Ms. Doe.” Beth’s smile slowly faded, she nodded as she put on her badge. She looked up at me and motioned for me to follow her.

Her first ‘patient’, Mr. Marion, was fast asleep. “His chart mentions they upped his dosage of morphine as his surgical site had to be reopened today,” she said in a quiet voice, as not to wake him. She checked his vitals on the monitor next to his bed, and it suddenly became clear to me that she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew what all these terms and numbers meant. I stood there almost slack-jawed because I never realized how much of a genius my daughter was. I also realized Mr. Marion was probably not what has gotten her so worked up. She made notes on her clipboard and even gently checked on his surgery site, which was on his right foot. The blood had appeared to seep through his bandages earlier, leaving a stain on his sheets. The bandage on his foot was now clean. We left the room without waking her patient up.

We headed to the next patient room, and I could see that Beth was walking much slower. She opened the door, and the sunlight hit our faces hard. The woman was sitting up on the edge of her bed, staring out the window at the bright orange and purple sunset. Upon hearing us enter, she peered over her shoulder. Once she saw Beth, she turned toward us and beamed a big smile.

“Oh Beth, I’m so happy to see you!” Ms. Doe said cheerfully. Her voice was slightly deep and seemed very strained as though she had been screaming for hours. She had bruises all over her, including a black eye and what looked like handprints on her neck. She looked up at me and her mouth closed but kept a smile. Upon looking over at Beth, I was surprised. All those worries melted away, she seemed remarkably happy. “You must be Beth’s father. I’m Jane Doe, or at least that’s what they call me around here.”

I stood there entirely confused about what was going on.

[chubbydrawer]

This story was a gift from an amazing friend of mine! Hope you enjoy it. We thought together and he made the story and I have a set of drawings releasing soon for this story!

THE SWEATER

Lance wasn't sure about the whole Christmas party. Christmas parties were fine, but insisting that everyone wear an ugly sweater put a cramp on things. Lance didn't even own any ugly Christmas sweaters. Jack, the friend hosting the party said it wouldn't be a big deal - he would order an ugly sweater and have it sent to Lance's apartment.

Lance opened the box with the sweater Jack had bought for him, and laughed out loud. The sweater was perfect for the ugly sweater contest. Printed with a fat, hairy, Santa Claus belly, Lance was sure that it would be a riot at the party.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Lance sighed. Medium tall, Lance hadn't been able to escape tsome college weight gain. With his height, he still looked fine, but there was definitely some extra fat around the belly. Time to hit the gym, Lance thought. Pulling the sweater on, Lance checked himself out in the mirror. He tried a smile. His beaded face looked tired. He looked absurd, but that was the point, he supposed.

The sweater hung loosely on Lance's slim frame. Jack had warned him in advance that the only size the sweater was available in had been 4XL. Still though, it only helped to make the fat belly printed onto the sweater more absurd.

"This is going to be hilarious!" Lance thought to himself. He absently stroked his stomach, and turned to grab his keys. The party was about to begin, and he found that he was feeling ravenous. Would stopping at McDonald's be overkill? Nah, a quick burger wouldn't hurt.

Slowing his car down at the order window, Lance felt his stomach rumble. Maybe a couple of burgers, actually. How could it hurt?

***

Pulling up to the party, Lance was surprised to find his fourth empty burger wrapper on his lap. Unnoticed by Lance, his belly swelled under the sweater, maybe 30 pounds heavier than it had been earlier that evening.

"Damn! I guess that I was hungrier than I thought!" He stepped out of his car, not noticing how the fat belly sweater fit him a little more closely than when he had put it on.

Entering the party, he got immediate laughs at his sweater.

"Dude! That sweater is sick!"

"Does it even have a hairy back? Look, it shows your ass crack!"

"Haha, watch out for fat Lance!"

Lance made a beeline over to Jack.

"Haha, what do you think of my fat belly, man? Thanks for buying the sweater man." Jack glanced over at Lance, a sugar cookie in his hand. Jack was shorter than Lance, and much fatter - he was more than chubby, and wasn't embarrassed about it, though Lance had noticed Jack packing on the pounds lately. Maybe it had to do with stress in his classes?

"You call that a belly?" Jack smirked. "This is a belly." Jack pulled up his marvel Christmas sweater and revealed his hairy, round belly and gave it a couple of jiggles.

"Get over yourself man," Lance laughed, "We all know how proud of that thing you are."

"Haha, you better be careful, man! Too much more, and you'll have me beat in the belly department! Still, enjoy yourself! Have some food!" Jack gave Lance's stomach a significant glance, and an almost proprietary grin before wandering off.

Lance wondered what he had meant about being careful. Sure, he had put on more than a couple of pounds lately, and he had stopped wearing his smaller shirts, but it wasn't a big deal. Lance filled a plate with food, and set off to mingle. He didn't even notice his belly slowly but surely getting bigger as he munched on a cookie.

***

Eating yet another cookie, Lance found himself absently rubbing his belly. Where did the cookie come from? He had finished his plate a while ago... and then went back for another, and another, but he didn't remember grabbing the tray of cookies that sat on the couch next to him. The sweater was much tighter now, stretched across his tight belly. Lance remembered unbuttoning his pants a while back, just to loosen the pressure. What had he been thinking when he pulled on these pants? They were so tight against his chunky legs and thighs.

Jack came over to where Lance was sprawled on the couch, crumbs all over him. Jack grinned widly at his obese friend.

"Looks like you've made a real pig of yourself, big man!"

Lance grunted noncommittally. Jack placed a hand on his friend's massive belly, feeling how tight the fat belly was. He wanted to play with the fat, but held himself back.

Lance shoved a cookie into his mouth, and a look of surprise crossed his face as a ripping sound split the quiet corner of the room.

Jack laughed out loud. "Did you just rip your pants? What were you thinking wearing those tonight man? They would barely fit me! Come on man, my old room mate left some clothes that might fit you." Jack's old roommate Brandon had been a real fatty, but Jack had started to dip into the clothes left at the house - with his recent weight gain, some of the clothes were fitting him better than his own clothes.

"Not a chance - they'll be way too big," Lance said automatically.

Jack chuckled. "Serious, man? There's a chance they'll be too small."

Lance frowned, that wasn't right at all, but found himself remembering how he had always been the fat kid. All through high school, he had been much bigger than the other boys. He had been grateful to make friends with Jack, someone who was so much smaller than him, even when Jack was on the chubby side. They had both gotten fatter when they got into college, but Lance had ballooned, doubling his own weight.

Jack helped Lance to his feet. Lance felt his face burning as he felt the air on his exposed ass. The two made their way through the house; the party was mellowing out as the night progressed, and most people had settled down into smaller groups.

***

Collapsing with a sigh of relief on Jack's bed, Lance grunted as he tried to pull off his pants.

Fumbling through a box, Jack pulled out the biggest pair of pants he could find. Turning back to Lance, he laughed at the fat man's effort to remove the pants. The massive belly in front of him was foreign to him, he kept lunging forward, and falling back, breathing heavily.

"Bro, let me help." Lance leaned back while Jack peeled the skin tight jeans off his fat legs. Lance sighed heavily as the pressure came off him. "Here you go - sweatpants. They start at size 52, but stretch much wider."

Lance stared at the offered pants. Not a chance. He wore 32s. 34 at a stretch. Reaching down, he pulled the pants up. They fit perfectly. Lance scowled. This wasn't right. Lance felt like a fog was being lifted from his mind.

Jack slapped Lance on the shoulder. "Come on, big man!" He said, "Let's get back to the party! They're going to be judging the ugly sweaters soon! I think that you stand a good chance of winning."

Lance stumbled to his feet, aided by Jack. Fat Jack. Only Jack wasn't fat. He was pudgy at best. Sure, Jack had started packing on the pounds lately, but Lance had a sudden memory of Jack saying he wanted to be fat to be like him. Lance was the fat one. He had always been the fat friend. This is not right!

Lance staggered away from Jack, and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Jack called after him. Lance turned to see another man was in there. A huge, fat man, with a massive, hairy belly.

"Sorry man - I didn't know anyone was in here." The man mirrored Lance, dodging to the same side to avoid hitting into him. Lance raised a hand. The man did the same. It wasn't another man. It was a mirror.

Lance stared in horror at his reflection. He was huge. He was obese. And he wasn't wearing a sweater. The fat belly from the sweater was his body. He trembled as he explored his new body. His massive, hairy belly felt solid, like a weight on the front of his body. His ass jutted out behind him, soft and jiggly in the sweats he was wearing. His moobs, HIS MOOBS, were soft, and coated in dense hair. Somehow the transformation had worked its way up to his neck and face. His neck looked shorter, coated in fat. His entire face was rounder; his beard doing nothing to hide how fat his face was.

He gave his belly a shake, watching the fat sphere wobble in front of him. This was real. This was happening. What the hell is going on!

He turned as someone opened the door. Jack! Lance tried to hide in the shower, but his fatter body was slower than he was used to. He tripped on the tub and lay there, sideways across the bathtub, his fat trembling as he panted.

"I can explain." Jack said as he shut the door behind him. He turned back to Lance, hands raised in a peacemaking gesture.

"What are you talking about? Look at me man! I'm fat!" Lance struggled to find the words for his dilemma. "I was skinny earlier. I put on the sweater you sent me, and now I'm fat, and everyone is acting like this is normal!"

"I know."

Lance froze. "What do you mean you know? I have two sets of memories in my head, man. One where I'm skinny, and one where I've been fat for years."

"That's right. I know, because that's how I wanted the magic to work. I wanted you to have the choice."

Lance stared at his friend. "What the hell are you talking about."

Jack sighed, and scratched at his underbelly. "How do I explain? I'm what you call a gainer."

Lance frowned at Jack. He tried to pull himself out of the bathtub, but his fat had him wedged.

"A gainer is a person who gets fat on purpose. It... arouses me. The idea of getting bigger, of being covered in fat is a huge turn on for me. However, I also have an interest in seeing other guys get fatter too. I'm not really a feeder, but I love seeing guys get huge. It's a turn on for me."

Staring in disbelief, Lance tried to make sense of Jack's words.

"Turns out, there's all sorts of magic you can buy online to make people fat. Most people do it for vengeance, or pranks, but I like to do it for how sexy it makes the other guy."

"You think this is sexy?" Lance waved a hand at his body, feeling the fat tremble with the gesture.

"Oh, hell yes. Lance, you're so hot. I've always found you incredibly sexy, man. But seeing how you freaked out over gaining a few pounds made me sad. I wanted you to see how sexy you could be with some more weight, and then the Christmas Party came up. It was the perfect chance to let you see how amazing you could look."

Jack reached down, and pulled Lance to his feet. the two stood side by side next to the full body mirror.

"Look at you man." Jack reached over, and carressed Lance's body - gently lifting his belly, and dropping it, rubbing the fat, kneading it like it was dough. Lance felt something stir inside him, and to his surprise, he found himself getting aroused.

Jack leaned up and kissed Lance. "You're so fucking hot right now. I can't even keep my hands off of you."

Lance felt himself in a daze. Jack touching his body felt so good... He was getting hard. "You said something about a choice?" He mumbled.

Jack sighed in regret, and pulled back from Lance. "The way that the magic works is that you have a choice. You can embrace this reality - the one where you've been fat for years," Jack looked at Lance hopefully, "or you can go back to an altered reality, where tonight happened differently."

Lance stared into the mirror at his fattened form. Would he really want this? He reflected on the new memories - hanging out with friends, being the fat friend. In this timeline he was happy. He was confident. There wasn't any pressure to go to the gym. He could eat whatever he wanted. Here he was the big guy the people loved to be around.

"How do you know that the reality will change?" Lance asked, unable to take his eyes off his fattened form.

"You think this is the first time I've done this?" Jack laughed. "You remember my old roommate?"

"Brandon? Sure. That guy was a real fatty."

"He wasn't always that way, but that's a story for another time. He was pretty fit when we first moved in together, but after he saw how amazing he looked, he decided to stay in that reality - live life as a fat man."

Lance couldn't wrap his mind around it - Brandon used to be skinny? But then, here he was, plenty fatter than he had been just earlier this evening; if his one set of memories were anything to be believed. Lance stared at the reflection, and pensively rubbed his fat belly. Did he want this? In the skinny timeline, he was always watching his weight, and worrying what other people thought. In this timeline, he was comfortable with himself. He was outgoing and chatty. He had a lot more friends. The answer should have been obvious. But this felt like cheating. He hadn't really earned this.

Lance sighed. "You'd be surprised at what a hard decision this is for me. My fat life is awesome - there are so many reasons to stay here. I'm still not sure if I agree that I'm more sexy this way," his hard penis had him questioning what was more sexy after all. "But everything else is really good in this reality."

Jack looked hopeful.

"However," Lance raised a finger, "I didn't earn this. This isn't my life. If I'm going to learn to be confident in myself, I want to earn it for me, not through a magic spell."

Jack sighed. "I really hoped that seeing how sexy you are, and seeing how good your life is would make you choose to stay here. Fair enough man. You've made your choice."

"So what happens? How do I get rid of this?" Lance gestured at his fattened body.

Jack looked sheepish. "There's only one way to break the spell and get rid of the fat - you have to fuck it out."

Lance stared at Jack. "Like, jerking off?"

Jack blushed even further. "That wouldn't do it. Now that you've made your choice, you need to fuck the fat into someone else."

Now Lance was blushing. "Who would want that? How am I supposed to find someone willing to take all of this?" Lance gestured wildly.

"It's not going to be all of that, just the fat from what you've eaten this evening. And if you're willing... I'll take it." Jack started to undress, revealing his chubby body. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube.

Lance started to protest, but he felt himself growing hornier as more of Jack was revealed. He felt his penis, rock hard in the surrounding fat.

Jack leaned over, exposing his ass for Lance. "Believe it or not, you're not the first person to turn this down - it explains a bit of the extra fat I have here," Jack gave a chuckle and slapped his fat belly.

Lance stared at the pale ass in front of him. He wasn't the most experienced, but he knew what to do. Grabbing the lube, Lance pushed down the loose band of the sweatpants. Standing rock hard, with beads of pre at the tip, Lance coated himself heavily.

Pressing the tip to Jack's ass, Lance felt Jack tremble as he entered. Jack moaned softly, and Lance began to thrust. All his fat jiggled and trembled as he pushed in and out, fat slapping heavily on Jack's plump ass cheeks. Jack moved slightly with the weight, clenching on Lance's penis inside of him. His belly swayed softly with each thrust.

Lance turned to the mirror, and saw himself - a big fat mountain of a man, fucking the smaller man. Did he really want to lose this? Too late now! He felt himself nearing climax.

"Inside me!" Jack panted. "It's all got to go inside me to get you back to our reality!"

Lance moaned deeply, and thrust even harder. Plunging in to the hilt, Lance cried out as he came - ropes of cum sprang out of his dick into Jack, and they kept coming - Lance felt himself shrinking, his arms, body, belly getting smaller, and more compact. Each spasm sent more fat out of him.

Lance fell to his knees, a small amount of cum dripping from his dick. Jack panted heavily, carefully turning to Lance, holding all the cum in his ass. For as much as came out of Lance, Jack only looked 20 or so pounds heavier.

Glancing at the cum on the ground Jack tutted, "I told you to keep it all in me. For that amount, you probably kept around 15 pounds of fat. It will probably be around the belly and ass, but it's going to be stubborn, and hard for you to lose."

Not caring, Lance stared at his body in the mirror. at some point, the massive sweatpants had slid off, not having enough support on this body, and somehow the fat belly sweater had returned.

"What happens now?" Lance panted.

"Now things go back to normal." Jack smiled.

Lance glanced at Jack's now fatter body, and felt himself getting hard again. Jack saw the stiffening penis. He laughed.

"None of that now! We gotta get things back on track." Jack leaned forward, and gently kissed Lance on the lips. "You might have turned down my offer," Lance heard, as the room around him spun, and started to grow black, "but I hope you learned a lesson from your dick - there's something sexy about a little fat."

***

A loud ripping sound caused Lance to jump awake. He had been dozing on Jack's couch. Someone nearby opened a Christmas present, tearing into the wrapping paper much more loudly than they needed to. Lance felt like hell. What had possessed him to eat three plates of food? And did he eat a tray of cookies? Under his fat santa belly sweater his belly felt hard and round. He felt bloated, but no more than usual when he over ate.

He had a vague recollection of a dream where he had been fat, but he shook that off as Jack called everyone over to take part in the ugly sweater contest. Was it just Lance's imagination, or was Jack looking fatter than usual?

Everyone took turns standing in front of the group, and the sweater with the most cheers would win the contest. When Lance stood in front of the group everyone roared with laughter - he was the winner, hands down. Jack offered him the prize - a basket of baked christmas goodies. Lance hesitated - he had really stuffed himself tonight, and his size 32 jeans felt tight against his bloated belly. Did he really need more goodies? Lance's dream flashed through his mind, and Lance smiled, taking the basket. There was always the gym, and if not, maybe there was something sexy about a little fat.

[aesthbaby]

Ghost

Summary: Do you remember the episode Demonology where we learned of Emily’s past? What if I told you, you were apart of it. After years of silence on her end, you end up meeting her again.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Prompt: here

Warnings: Cursing | Sadness | Typos

Word Count:

Masterlist

An: Dedicated to my hundredth follower. Ahhhh I'm too hype about this! I also made a slight change to the prompt but everything else is the same :)  Anon, I hope you enjoy.

Indignation

The screaming crawls up the walls of her oversized, child hood home to shake her ear drums. The thunder only adds fuel to the fire that is the rage possessed by both Prentiss’ as they continue their screaming match.

“Don’t you dare walk away when I’m talking to you!” Elizabeth’s voice matches the rain. The way she stomps behind her daughter looks almost comical.

“Back off mother.” She mumbles this more to herself than her mother.

She stops walking, planting her feet firmly on the Brazilian Chestnut flooring. “I will not ask you again.” She comes to a stop, takes a breath, and slowly turns to her mother. Not meeting her eyes, of course, because it’d hurt too much to see the hate in her eyes. “Look at me.” The mother growls. She slowly moves to meet her mothers eyes and finds nothing but rage there; energy matched to the thunder and rain outside. “You will not see that-” The derogatory term gets caught up in her throat.

Taking a step towards the elder, “What?” Daring to ask the question to which she already knows the answer. “What do you want to say mother?” Her jaw tightens, a sign that Emily knows all too well. “Spit it out.” Its taking everything in her not to raise her voice again and spew the word out for her mother.

Elizabeth takes a breath of her own before replying. “You are not to see that girl again or so help me, I will make sure she goes back to where she came from.” Before Emily could object, she speaks again. “That is final Emily.” Her voice holds strong, and suddenly the storm ceases its assault. 

All is quiet in the Prentiss house yet the tension remains; so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Disregard

The next morning you arrive to school earlier than usual, but for good reason. Some random college hoodie wrapped loosely around your torso and a dainty neck tucked under it. Your school uniform has never fit you quite right because of how late in the year you transferred, you know...left overs. Phone is going absolutely crazy in your shirt pocket but now isn't the time, you’re looking for somebody. You’re looking for her. Mr. Ricci’s voice can be heard on your left, telling a group of guys its time for class. Emily...where the hell are you?

As the day progresses you still see no sign of the brunette until now. “Emily!” Running up to her you deliver a swift punch to her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?” When her eyes meet yours they puffy, like she’s been crying. “Em- I-”

“First of all, ouch. Secondly, I can’t right now.” She turns to walk off with her lunch in hand, but you quickly pull her back by her elbow.

“You ‘can’t’ right now? What the hell is wrong with you?” Its taking everything in you not to become overtly emotional. “And where have you been?”

“Y/n I’m sorry but I really can’t right now.” She pulls away from your grip. Leaving you more confused than before.

You scuff at her wording. “You never calls me by my first name...” Its always been her thing, starting with a joke about how she has another friend by the same name as you so she had to call you something else. The next day was the same, avoiding you at all costs.

But it didn’t stop there.

It felt as though you were left on a physical manifestation of ‘read.’ Her name with the red heart emoji attached, did not pop up on your phone for what seemed to be months but in reality it had only been a few weeks. If she were to simply pick up the phone you would have been able to tell her about your unforeseen departure time. Due to sudden changes in international studies, you had to leave and the academy needed their student back. The one of which you exchange places with in January. Tears spring to your eyes at the thought of leaving. Not only are you leaving her, but also leaving this city you got to call home.

Sunny days always seem to appear at the wrong time, your departure day. She’s not here to see you off, hasn’t been around for a while. Can you really blame her? She doesn’t even know you’re leaving because she wont pick up the fucking phone. It doesn’t matter anymore, your time is up and so is her’s. A line of black and white kittens sprint across the cobblestone streets and that right there is what makes you break down in tears. Seeing the delicate kittens run after a mouse while tripping over their own feet. Random yellow flowers peaking through the stone which you’ve never known the actual name of. That one girl in Chem that would bake cookies for the class on Fridays. Your host dad taking you to his favorite café that served an increasing number of Cuban smokers. Going to eat gelato after homeroom with that one guy who would always make Golden Girls references. Then there was Emily, the girl that gave you a dainty gold necklace for valentines day. The girl that got a random jock to stop harassing you. The person whose lap you’d lay in on Saturday mornings at the park, is the same person who randomly started to ignore you. Maybe you could have fixed things with her if you had more time. You were supposed  to have until June but suddenly everything shifted and all you were told is that you needed to come home, promptly. You couldn’t wait for her any longer, not even sure why you thought she’d come in the first place. Casting one last glance over your shoulder before stepping into the buzzing airport.

At least meet me half way.

Hereafter

"I don’t think so.” You laugh at your friend’s proposition to set you up on a blind date. “I am absolutely content with the way I choose to live my life.” Shifting a bit on the new couch that hasn’t been broken in, resulting in the stiff cushions.

He lets out this weird scuffing noise. “No you’re not. Remember last weekend when we tried to pull an all-nighter but your sleep deprived brain betrayed you?” At your nonchalant shrug, he continues. “You started rambling about just wanting to find some well educated, fun loving, female in this world full of bureaucratic straight men. Your words, not mine.” You throw a pillow at him but he swiftly doges it. “But you couldn’t have said it better.” These recent years have been a series of unfortunate dates that have ended in you lying about having to leave early for something.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend you should be getting home to?”

“Not tonight, I’m all yours. Apparently she has her knitting circle tonight.”

“That's what you get for dating an older woman.” 

“Its a five year age difference! What is wrong with you people?”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Nothing, as long as you’re both legal and she’s good to you, its fine by me.”

“Shut up!” He screeches. “Oh shit, don’t you have a meeting in the morning?”

“Yes sir.” He stands to take your glasses and plates in the kitchen but you object. “Leave it,” At his confused expression, you continue. “Cleaning helps me relax so I figured I’ll wake up early so I can do that and reduce my stress levels by at least ten percent.”

“Dude, you’re seriously weird.”

“Say another bad thing about me and I'm sending you home.”

Throwing him a few pillows from the hallway closet and a comforter just for him to scream, “Its too hot in this cottage core apartment!”

Its not even cottage core themed?? Its just cozy with a plant or two. Am I expected to live in an ice cold home? I feel like he’s just saying this because I’m gay.

Your prepared outfit hands on the back of your bedroom door, mocking you. Making you reconsider the entire thing and simply not go but it feels as though you’d regret it if you didn’t. Maybe not, who knows?

And with that as your final though, you drift off to sleep.

You wake at the amazing time of 6 A.M to see your guest gone with a note on the couch:

I cleaned up the mess from last night and I also did the dishes in your sink. Not sure how u slept through all of that...I made a fruit salad for ur breakfast and a normal one for lunch.

Good luck with your meeting!

And one of those old fashioned emoticons at the bottom corner. Idiot.

You eat the food he left from the fridge, brush your teeth with the news playing in the background, and continue on with the normal morning routine.

Gathering your lunch and the little items you feel like you’d need, phone, charger, paper work, and keys; you know, the works. Finally heading out to your destination with nothing but ambition, you run into a slight problem. 

Overlapping breakfast with an old friend of yours. “Hey, babe, I am so sorr-”

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The positive voice rings through the phone like velvet sheets after a cold shower. “You missed our reservation!” Have to admit hearing them whine is pretty entertaining. “You had one job. One!” You guys met some years ago over some random online forum, arguing over some random movie. You don’t talk as much as you’d like but breakfast is always on the menu--mostly in February.

“Quick question, am I allowed to apologize?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, “Yes you may, but only in fruit baskets and coffee.”

“I got you, next time though. I’m on my way to something right now.”

“Something...” In comes the teasing undertone. “Does this ‘something’ have a name?”

Bursting into a fit of laughter at what is implied and replying, “Definitely not, its a work thing.”

“Speaking of work, I have to go. Ciao!”

Just in time to end the call, you pull into the designated parking deck from the email. Going through all of the security procedures was hell but blatantly necessary; the rest was gravy. Floating through the rest of the building gave you a slightly stressful feel because of all the men walking around with perfect suits and casting no glances your direction. When the glass doors labeled BAU appear, you take a deep breath and walk in with confidence. Taking in the buzzing sound of agents at work all around you. Agent Hotcher’s office is glaringly obvious: higher up than the rest, perfect overview of the hive, and in direct eye sight of the entryway doors.

Delivering a swift knock to the office door you hear a faint invitation from the inside. Walking in with a smile and straight back you are greeted with a man in a dark navy blue suit and a stoic look to attached to him. It first starts with the small talk of your experience, early life, skill sets, and what not.

“Agent Hotchner, might I speak out of line for a moment.” He gives you a skeptical look before nodding. “I understand the nature of this meeting but I am not completely sure why it was conducted.” His furrowed brown is not a good sign, making you correct your structure a bit. “Right, well,” God his stare is fucking intense. “What I mean to ask is, why am I here?”

That was bold.

“Agent, are you not aware that this is a Career Analysis Assessment?” As it slowly sinks in an O-shape forms with your mouth. Now you feel like a complete idiot in front of this prestigious, tight suited, man. “You were unaware? Its fine if you were,” You let out a sigh at the confirmation. “I have a tendency to write my emails with an excessive amount of four syllable words so one could see where the confusion originated.” You let out a nervous laugh at the realization that this is basically a job interview.

“I see that you’ve spent time studying abroad.” Indicated by the recommendations from your Italian Psychology teacher. “Why not join the CIA?”

“Dare I say, they make me nervous?” He cracks a small, very subtle, smile at the admission.

“What made you want to leave Human Resources?”

“I got tired of analyzing decisions with nothing but dead bodies and messy crimes and having my primal focus be the agents and not the victims or perpetrators. Using what I’ve learned as material for agents in training when I could have prevented it from happening.”

“Well said, but I need to be completely transparent with you.” This can’t be good. “I will admit that I have serious reservations about adding a Human Resources officer to my team.”

Shit let me stop him before this spirals. He thinks I’m a spy. “Sir, with all do respect, I have no intentions of being a bureaucratic spy. I’d also like to point out that I wasn’t that high on the HR totem pole to the point where I had an explicit say on what happens to agents, who is hire, fired, or how they’re trained. I analyzed and compromised while expressing my findings to an unbiased extent. If I wanted to be a spy I would have joined the CIA.” Besides, Head Quarter’s is the one that does all of that internal investigation stuff, not HR.

He doesn’t say anything or make any sudden movements for a good minute. I fucked up. That spy line was too far. “I’d like to offer you a position on this team, so long as you can start immediately.”

“Yes, of course I can! I don’t have much office supplies besides a pen or two and-”

“Its fine,” He stands from his seat and straightens the dark blazer. “I’ll have one of my agents show you around.”

From across the bullpen you spot a familiar blonde. “Oh my god!” The file in her hand falls to the floor. “Its you!” She practically squeals.

“Penelope, I didn’t know you work here.” You give your old friend a tight, unapologetic hug. She said she worked as a tech analysis but you always assumed it was for an activism group or a tech firm, not the FBI out of all things. Despite having such interesting jobs, you never talk about work with each other. She knows you work for the government but not which. Although knowing how good she is at uncovering people’s secrets, there’s a good chance she already knew you work for the FBI too.

“What are you doing here? Like physically here. I thought you were in Florida.”

“I have to get back, can you take care of Agent Y/L/N for me?” Hotchner says before rushing off without an answer.

And there she goes with the snooping. “Actually, I left the Florida office and went to California.”

“Oh.” Her face twists a bit. “And now you’re here?”

“I thought you were the woman behind the curtains, the all knowing.”

“And wonderful!” She points with her perfectly painted finger.

In comes a slim man with a messenger back, making a click in your mind. “Now where have I seen him before...” Turning slightly to follow his trail.

“That’s our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Unbelievable. “He’s twelve.” The young agent’s head snaps toward you and Penelope, “Does he have super human hearing too?” She introduces you to the Doctor who is, as expected, socially awkward in many ways. A man named David Rossi of whom you’ve met at least once during a few Bureau seminars; last you heard he had rejoined the BAU after retirement. Jennifer Jareau is gorgeous with a nurturing nature about her, she immediately recognizes your name from exchanged paperwork but that’s about it. The introductions are brief, everyone seems to be busy with their own things. “Penelope your team is kind of small.” You quietly mention to her.

“Oh!” Guess the realization that two people are missing, finally clicks in her head. She starts walking in the direction of a staircase so you automatically follow her. “This is Derek Morgan.” Standing in front of a round table is a tall man with a really toned body. “Derek, this is Agent Y/n L/n from Human Resources.” His eyebrow arches up in suspicion.

“Oh no I’m not here for anything bad, I’ve actual been transferred into the BAU. Working behind a desk and watching as others do the work I can’t, wasn’t working out for me.” Definitely won’t trust me until I save his life or something. “I’ve heard of you, one of the Academy trainers has shown a few videos of you.” He smirks at the implied compliment and finally holds his hand out for you to shake.

“Where’s...” Pen trails while looking around.

“Oh she’s getting coffee.” The darker man points behind himself.

“Who’s getting coffee?”

Reconciliation

Maybe we wouldn’t be so short handed if they sprung for better coffee. Emily thought to herself while stirring the flavorless, dark liquid. What if they attach a coffee shop to the building? Imagine how much money the shop would make off of overworked agents. But then I feel like we’d start developing a true addiction to this stuff. Her thoughts are interrupted by the approach of foot steps. She meets Derek’s figure and smiles at the resident goofball of the BAU. Followed by Penelope’s pink centralized outfit with feathers. Then there’s you, just as beautiful as the last time you saw each other. If not more. Your hair shines amongst the florescent lights, paired with the perfectly tailored outfit and jewelry. The same eyes that would brighten her day as they met. An almost unnoticeable bounce in you walk, same as it were years ago. As you step towards her there is a flash of gold on your wrist that sends a ping to Emily’s heart, its the necklace I gave you in high school.

Intersect

You would have know about Emily’s transfer here from a few years ago, had her paperwork gone through the HR department but apparently it went straight to the top because this is definitely a surprise. Once you realize its actually her you stop dead in your tracks. Can’t be.

“Y/n,” She stutters out your name in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Emily, I work here.” Ripping the band-aid off like this is an every day encounter; seeing your unofficial ex who you were never actually with in the first place but had the same characteristics as a high school couple. Yeah...that.

She also blurted out a ‘no you don’t’ before Garcia interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

You both snapped your heads to her simultaneously. “We don’t.” Also said that part at the same time.

“Right.” She drags. “I’m sensing some unresolved tension...”

“What are-” Em tries to object.

“So we’re going to go.” The tech analysis grabs the sleeve of the darker man and practically sprints off in the opposite direction. Morgan having a dumbfounded look on his face.

It feels like you’re at a stalemate, who will make the first move. What will the emotions be? Are they going to fly? Because I’d like to throw a few verbal punches her way. Who does that to someone? I thought I was over it but clearly the wound is still open. Great now watch her blame me for X, Y, and Z,

“I’ve missed you.” She barely whispers, sounding a bit broken yet insincere. Its like she’s detaching herself from the narrative. So unexpected that you almost think you’re imagining this. Why would she say that? This is not the Emily you remember.

Anger bubbles up in your throat ready to unleash upon her entirety. Instead of bursting into flames right on the spot, in the middle of your new place of employment you take a deep breath. Words of disbelief  dance on your lips before speaking. “You did not.” She tilts her head like a curious puppy. Who am I even talking to?

“What do you mean?” And just like that she’s whisked away by a guy in a suit of whom you do not recognize. Your jaw clinches in a desperate attempt to keep your cool, wondering what the hell is going on.

Realization

Besides the surprise of seeing Emily, your first day went great. Everyone kept checking up on you and you couldn’t tell if it was because they were trying to be friendly, excited to have a new teammate, or nervous of your background. “She used to work for the FBI Human Resources Branch.” You heard the skinny one tell Morgan when they thought you weren’t listening.

JJ and Penelope invited you out for drinks but all you really wanted to do was lay in your bed with a face mask and a bag of chips. Waving a farewell to the blonde women and head to your car, but a few feet away you feel a presence. You quickly loop around in search of the energy with your hand on the top of your gun. “Woah woah.” Emily holds her hands up in surrender.

At the realization of who it is you take a breath and clip your gun back in place. You give her a “what the hell look” before straightening your outfit.

“Were you going to shoot me?”

She’s met with wide eyes from your end. “Maybe?! Who sneaks up on someone with a gun?”

“I didn’t ‘sneak’ up on you.”

“Emily, you wear all black and walk like a feather. What were you expecting?” The buried anger is starting showing through.

“Okay,” She does a weird hand movement that kind of looks like she’s trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just thought we could talk.”

“Talk...” You’re not really following.

“Yes, I’d like to talk.”

“Emily what are you asking? I’m lost.”

She take a moment to figure it out before answering. “For a second chance, I’m asking for another shot.”

You uncross your arms at the admission, letting them lazily fall beside you. “Em- I-” She can’t be asking what I think she is. “Its been years. More than a decade has passed since-” The words suddenly die on your lips

“I know,” And it looks like there’s a slight glimmer in her eyes, implying the presence of suppressed tears. “I’d just like to explain.”

“Explain?” You bite, tasting the bitter flavor of annoyance.

“Yes, I at least owe you that.”

And that’s how you ended up here, with her. In a cozy, minimalistic loft at nine in the afternoon with a coffee table separating the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing to break the silence, and this time it actually sounded sincere. “If I could have explained everything to you back then, I would have.”

You lean forward, closer to her and push the rather large vase off to the side so she has to be vulnerable with you. Nothing to help her hide from herself. At her confused face you lean back in your seat and nod for her to continue.

“My mother was always a difficult woman and although she has gotten better over the years, things were at their worst when she found out how much time I had been spending with you.” The brunette takes a minute before admitting the next part. “She was responsible for your early departure. I tried to stop her, give you more time but she’s relentless.” She waits for your reaction but when met with nothing, she continues. “She threatened me by putting our connection on the line, which in retrospect I now realize was impossible to save. She had already made calls to get you out of the country by the time I could sever what we had. I never wanted to hurt you or end what we shared.”

“And what did we share, Emily?”

Her tongue darts from between her lips, doing that weird little biting thing she’s always done since we’ve known each other. It sparks something in you that you haven't felt in a while. “I think you know. The fact that you still wear the necklace I gave you, bracelet, means you never really forgot.”

“I liked it where I could see it, but Em you could have called, texted even.” 

“I couldn’t I was scared. Then after you left I started to distance myself from everyone and everything was really going downhill.”

“How so?”

“I got mixed up with peer pressure and boys.” This doesn’t sound good. “At one point I did anything I could to fit in.”

“What does that mean?” There’s a moment when a tear wells up on one of her eyes, but not dropping. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I-” She tries to speak but nothing comes out. “I couldn’t tell my mother and the church wasn’t happy with my actions.” It suddenly dawns on you, like a smack in the face. You want to make her stop and just hold her but this needs to come out. “I couldn’t call you because it would hurt too much. I hated myself at that moment more than I ever have.”

“And you haven’t dated since?”

She sniffles and lets out a little laugh at that. “God no, I’ve dated people but I haven't dated another female since. It felt wrong, like I was replacing you or something.”

“You owe me nothing. You were just trying to protect me and I see that now.”

“I knew better, its been so long and when I heard you joined the academy I-”

“Wait, you knew and didn’t say anything?”

“Y/n I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other that attempt to move on.” Silence fills the room and its not the comforting kind. Its the tense, I need to do something, kind.

“Do you feel anything?” You dare to ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Were your feelings lost in transit?”

“They froze the day you left, and thawed the day I saw you again. Today.”

“So its not over.”

She appears to contemplate your statement. “No, its not over. We have a chance to start over.”

What now?

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*★*･ ･*･'･*:..:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*:. .｡.:*☆

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[taleasnewastime]

Break my heart

Yoongi x reader genre: fluff; angst word count: 2.1k

a/n: Based off the song “Break my heart” by Dua Lipa. Theres slight angst but overall it’s very fluffy. As always I hope you enjoy!

The sound in the room grew audibly louder and you glanced over the top of your drink to see what the commotion was all about. A man walked through the entrance; he wore a simple oversized black top with skinny black jeans ripped at the knee. His face was somber as he glanced round the room but you could tell he was enjoying the attention. You took another sip of your drink as you continued to stare, intrigued by the new figure. Although he hadn’t taken more than a few steps through the door there was already a few people gathered around him trying to get his attention, but failing. He slowly made his way over to the bar and said something to the bar man who nodded his head and started to make whatever concoction the man had ordered. The man continued to scan the room meeting your eyes for a brief second before moving on. You gave a sigh as you turned away to take another sip of your drink and glance down at your watch. You were supposed to meet your friend here 10 minutes ago but she was currently a no show. You didn’t even want to come out and would’ve stayed at home if it wasn’t for her. You decided you’d give her a total of 30 minutes from when you were supposed to meet to show up, otherwise you were going. 20 minutes to go. You looked down at your watch again mentally setting a timer.  

You looked back up to where the man was sitting, drink now in his hand. Some beautiful woman was talking to him, or more, at him, as he looked like he couldn’t care less. As you took in more of his features; dyed brown hair falling straight over his forehead, moon shaped eyes and a downward mouth, you recognised him from almost every billboard and TV advert. Now you understood why everyone was trying to gain his attention. It was Min Yoongi from BTS.  

You took another sip of your drink finishing it off. Maybe you should buy another drink. You look down at your watch to see if you had time to buy another. However, your thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind you.  

“Hello,” a male voice sounded from behind you.  

You spin around in your chair to make eye contact with the guy who had everyone’s attention. Why the hell was he over here and why the hell was he speaking to you? You continued to stare at him in shock.  

“Hello,” Yoongi repeated, both of you staring into each other’s eyes this time.  

It was at that moment that you knew you should definitely have stayed at home.

After that night you and Yoongi started to casually see each other.  

At the bar he bought you a drink after introducing himself, although you already knew who he was. You chatted for a while before your friend finally showed up and broke up whatever was going on between the two of you. He took your number and left the bar.  

You thought that would be the end of it. Not that it even started. But a few days later your phone pinged with a message from the man himself. You met up for more drinks in a different bar. You had noted how again everyone stared at him as he walked through the room. Centre of attention. He went back to yours after the drinks and that’s when he started sleeping over.  

It was always that way round. He always slept at yours, not that you minded. He would show up with food or alcohol and you would chat on your living room floor until the early hours when things always started to get heated.  

The next morning, he would always leave before breakfast no matter how many times you offered. Once he was gone you would always be in a trance. You still wish you’d stayed at home that night at the bar when you met him, you were doing so much better before, when you were alone. Now you can't get this man out of your head. He is all you think about and you wonder if you stay in his mind when he leaves your flat. You know this is a ridiculous thought. He is Yoongi, he could get any girl he wants and you are just here to pass the time until the next best thing comes along. But however much this pained you can't let him go and cling onto the nights when he turns up to your flat.  

“Y/N,” he says your name like you’ve never heard it before. You feel his hand run down your bare back and you can feel the sunlight on your face as it streams through your open curtains. This is the time of day you hate the most as you know he is about to leave you.  

You groan slightly as you turn around to look at him. His hair, which has recently been dyed blonde, is a mess on top of his head and his eyes are puffy from sleep.  

“I need to head off soon,” he whispers as you curl up into him.  

“Can I tempt you with some food before you go?” You ask this every morning and his answer is always the same.  

“Why do you do this to me?” He grumbles into your neck.  

“What? Try to be a good host and offer you some food?” You laugh at him.

“You know I would love to stay, but I can’t. I have work.”  

“Just this once can’t you be a bit late.”  

“Do you really want me to stay?” He holds you back so he can look into your eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You state, forehead scrunching slightly in confusion. You thought you had made your feelings perfectly clear to him.  

He stares a bit longer before humming and pulling you back into a hug.  

“What is this Yoongi?” You mumble into his chest, not sure if he can make out what you’re saying.  

“I don’t know,” he sighs, squeezing you hard before letting go and standing up gathering his clothes and putting them on.  

You pull the covers around you as you watch him dress.  

“So tonight. Shall I bring over that take-away we had last week that you loved.”

You thought for half a second as you watched him trying to flatten his hair in the mirror. “Sure,” you smile at him as he looks at you through the mirror.  

“Great. I can't wait,” he walks over to kiss you on the forehead before turning to walk out the door, “I'll see you tonight then,” he gave one last glance back before walking out the door.  

“Bye,” you whispered to yourself as you hear your front door open and close.  

You flop back on to your bed with a groan. A thought runs through your head am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart?

That night a knock on your front door makes you jump. You have to stop yourself from running to the door knowing who it will be. You take a deep breath in before pulling the door open.

Yoongi is leant up against the door frame, take-out bag in hand, baseball cap on his head and in all black.  

“Hello,” he smirks at you. He says it the same way he did on the evening you met each other and it still doesn’t fail to make your heart skip a few beats.  

You don’t say anything in return, just simply step aside signalling for him to enter. You grab the bag off him as he walks past you and you head to the kitchen.  

“Make yourself at home. I’ve put some wine in the living room,” you say over your shoulder.  

You grab some plates and begin to dish up the food into something that looked semi presentable. As you walk into the living room you notice Yoongi messaging someone on his phone. As you approach him, he quickly shoves his phone away and you think nothing of it.  

“Thanks for getting this,” you say as you place the dish in front of him.  

“And thanks for getting this,” he says back presenting you with a glass of wine that you clink with his. His phone pings, signalling he has received a text, but he ignores it.  

“So how was your day?” He asks.  

“Tiring. I have that big project due in by the end of the week and I feel like it's all falling on me to finish it. I have no idea what I’m doing.”  

“You’ll get there. And I’m sure whatever you are doing is great, they wouldn’t trust you with this if you weren’t.”

You gave him a small smile before taking another sip of your wine. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about that, it's too stressful. How was your day?”

Before he could respond his phone pings again.  

“Am I keeping you from someone?” You slightly laugh as he continues to ignore his phone. Inside your heart picks up a bit. You always felt like this thing you had going on with Yoongi was too good to be true and he must have some other women lined up. His phone buzzing with incoming texts only confirmed this in your mind.  

“Nope.” He replies, but his cheeks betray him as they start to go red. “My day was great. I managed to record some more for that song I wrote.”

“That’s amazing Yoongi! How much have you got left to do before it’s finished?” You know he is avoiding talking about the mystery texter and you decide to go with it.  

“Urm, not too much. Just a few tweaks here and there should do it,” he says as he starts spooning food into his mouth.  

“And then do I get to hear it?”  

He starts to go red again. And then as if he couldn’t go any redder, his phone signals another text coming in.  

“Seriously, if I’m stopping you from seeing someone I won't be offended,” your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to as you start to get a tad angry.

“It’s no one seriously,” he half mumbles, eyes to the floor.

“I’m sure she’s beautiful. And probably more fun than me. So seriously if this evening is stopping you, I’m not going to be offended if you leave.”  

“What are you on about Y/N?” Yoongi looks up at you, eyes puzzled, nose slightly scrunched in confusion.

“We both know you could have anyone you want. I’ve seen the way everyone looks at you when you walk into a room. And I’ve seen the way you enjoy how everyone looks at you,” your rambles reveal all your insecurities.  

“What’s brought this on Y/N?”  

“What is this Yoongi?” You sigh, defeated.  

“I told you last night, I don’t know,” his voice soft.  

“Well maybe we should discuss that. I think I’m falling in love with you.” You say the words with your eyes on his crossed legs, voice just as soft as his.  

The silence that endures is shattering. Your eyes look up to meet his. His face is in shock.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same. It’s just I can’t not tell you anymore. You’re all I think about when you’re not here. You’re all I look forward to in my day. And if you don’t come in the evening I can’t sleep at night.” You sigh as you continue to stare at him, his face still in shock. “Listen. Like I said if I’m keeping you from something better, I won't be offended if you want to go.”  

“There’s nothing better,” he finally speaks out.  

You give a small smile at him. He pushes his plate away and crawls over to you pushing you so that you are lying on your back and he is hovering over you.  

“There’s nothing better,” he repeats, eyes staring into yours. “I only ever want to be here with you. It kills me when I have to leave for work every day. And it’s the best part of my day when I get to knock on your door and see it open to your face. It was the best decision I’ve ever made to go and say hello to you at that bar.”  

You lean up to kiss him and he takes your lips in his.  

“It was Jungkook texting me. He keeps asking me to bring you round to ours,” he smiles down at you. “And I will. I just want you to myself a little longer.”  

You give a small laugh, pleased your earlier thoughts were wrong “OK, just please don’t break my heart.”

“I’ll try not to,” he says before kissing you again.  

[littlemindblabbles]

Off day

Trying to write some Jaemin fics, might be really bad sorry!!

Summary: (FLUFF) You finally get some long awaited free time with Jaemin and he’s determined to make up for beng busy

Pairing: Jaemin X Y/N

Mornings were not your thing at all. You hated getting up at any time earlier than 12 noon, but unfortunately, school didn’t let you have the luxury of doing that most of the time. But although today was a Saturday, you were quite happy to be awake when your alarm rang at 9 am. The reason lied in the boy whose pair of arms were currently wrapped around you, his face buried in your neck. 

Jaemin and you had been dating for over two years, and recently moved in together for 6 months. Due to his never-ending schedule as an idol, he was hardly around during the day and usually came home when you were asleep. However, good communication between the two of you helped your relationship, and you always supported him in all his work, knowing that he was under immense pressure to constantly better himself for his fans. You didn’t mind eating by yourself when he called to say he was coming home late, and always left a portion of dinner in the fridge for Jaemin to eat at night. You were his shoulder to cry on when the stress got too great, and his biggest fan whenever he had a new song to play for you or a new dance to show you. 

But today was different, for the first time in a very long while, Jaemin had the entire day off. A whole 24 hours for the both of you to spend time together, with no interruptions. Jaemin had told you beforehand that he had told his manager and group members not to bother him today, then promptly switched off his phone before going back to cuddling you. You haven’t had this much time to your boyfriend for so long, it almost felt too good to be true. 

“Morning princess, what a beautiful start to an amazing day with you.” Said boy you were thinking about finally stirred and stretched his arms out. You smiled and turned around to face him.

“Good morning, what shall we do today Jaem?” He smiled brightly at you before sitting up on your shared bed. You made a move to sit up too, but he pushed you back down gently and tucked you back under the sheets. 

“No no, you can lie in a bit longer, I know you love your sleep. Just relax, today will be my turn to make up for everything you’ve done for me so far.” With that, he grinned and skipped out of your bedroom, shushing away your sounds of protest. Well, the bed was really warm and you were quite tired, so it wasn’t long before you were dozing off again. 

-

“Princess, wakey wakey. Time to eat!” The most delicious smell of pancakes and coffee reached your nose even before you opened your eyes. When you did open them to see your boyfriend with a tray of the best-looking food ever, tears nearly welled up in your eyes. How long has it been since you tasted Jaemin’s amazing cooking? Way too long that’s for sure. 

The both of you settled down comfortably in bed and ate breakfast in comfortable silence. His pancakes were just as good as you remembered, and you loved that he added a few strawberries on top which were your favourite and that he was carefully avoiding and moving to your side of the plate. As you were studying his cute movements, he felt your eyes on him and looked up, giving you a cheeky smile. 

“I’m gonna spoil you so much today, I can’t wait. You’ve been the perfect girlfriend, more than anything I could ask for, and I finally have the time off to treat you the way you deserve.” 

“Jaem, I love you, but you really don’t have to go out all this way for me. It’s your day off, a day to rest.” You emphasized the word ‘rest’ and eyed him. “You don’t have to do anything for me, honestly just being able to eat your cooking again has put me in cloud nine. I just need to spend time with you.” Jaemin took your hands in his and looked straight into your eyes. 

“Baby, I love you too. And I actually planned a super fun day where we could go out for a picnic and have fun together. I don’t know when we’ll get this chance again, and I wanna treat you right. Coming home to you every day has been a literal dream, I love that you always keep food for me to make sure I’m not skipping meals, and I love the cute little messages you place on top of the containers to cheer me on. I love how you never get upset with me whenever I cancel plans or return home later than predicted, and your little reminders throughout the day to take care of myself. But I guess you’re right, and you always are, I do need a bit of a rest before our comeback next week.” He looks like a kicked puppy at the end and you can’t help but give him a small peck on the lips. How is he so perfect?

“I know, and it’s alright, we have all the time in the world for your future plans. I'm really glad you appreciate all the small things I do, and I just wanna reassure you that you still show me how much you love me in your own ways too, even though you're so busy. So don't feel too guilty and that you have to make things up to me, okay? We can just have a chill day in today. Tell you what, I really miss you cooking, so my one request would be for you to cook for me. Is that alright?” Jaemin was already nodding his head vigorously, his eyes lighting up again. 

“Of course princess, I’ll make all your favourite foods. And in the meantime, we can cuddle and watch that drama we’ve been wanting to watch? How’s that sound?”

“Absolutely perfect.” And he leaned in to kiss you again, just that this time it was a bit longer than a single peck. Not that you were complaining, you had the whole day together right?

Note: I honeslty thought it was really short, but it’s about 1k which is not bad ahaha. Hope you liked it, check out my masterlist for more fics! 

[thetirashan]

Soup of the Day

Written for 2021 Vyn Spring Event.

Two guys sit in a bar and bitch about how Narathzul can't govern a city worth a damn. One is a future Shadow God and the other has seen some shit in his lifetime. Huberto just keeps stirring his soup in the meantime.

Set between Barateon's death and the Shadow God's arrival in Ostian.

Vendil had a love-hate relationship with transitional periods. They were always full of uncertainty, chaos, and destruction. Sure, he ushered in his own transfer of power from one egomaniac to another but that didn’t mean he liked it. Order and structure were his bread and butter.

Yet on the other hand, three o’clock was always the best time to visit the tavern. It wasn’t the most inviting scene to walk into it but there was something to be said about the cool crisp privacy of a near empty bar. There was just him, a few washed out old men, and Huberto. The latter knew that he was the one to help overthrow Barateon, Vendil could see it in his eyes, but the man stuck to his routine. Vendil ordered a glass of beer and a bowl of unsalted peanuts, Huberto nodded before delivering the order, and Vendil paid upfront. Neither one gossiped about the other. It was balanced and even-handed -- an exchange at its simplest.

The sound of boots shouldn’t have broken him out of his stupor. Occasionally travellers would wander in to scarf a hot meal before passing out in a room after all. They barely paid attention to the innkeeper much less him. With that said, his head still snapped up at the jingling.

It was a steady lulling noise. A single heavy boot step then that faint jingle. Almost comforting in a way as he blinked at the figure strolling through the door. The darkness by the threshold gave him the visage of a spectre but the candlelight revealed a man cloaked in soft browns and greens with a wide brimmed hat crowning his mop of red curls.

Huberto glanced up from handing a customer a plate of smoked sprat with an astonished look. It was quickly gone with a blink and a small cough into his elbow.

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I get you anything?” he asked, keeping his eyes directly on the patron before him. Vendil didn’t know the innkeeper well but he could spot a nervous man a mile away.

“I’d like a cup of wine and a bowl of whatever you’ve got over the hearth.” the man, now revealed to be Aeterna, replied. With his hat under his arm, the man’s identity was immediately determined, forcing Vendil to take a long sip of his beer. So much for a relaxing day.

“Potato soup?”

“That’ll do. Just one bowl please.”

As he waited, the man leaned against the counter and scratched at his beard, looking everywhere except where Vendil was lounging. However, the moment the small tray filled with hot soup and wine was given, his head snapped towards his direction with a sunny toothy grin. His teeth were remarkably straight despite the coffee stains.

“Well, well… if it ain’t the lava hopping asshole.”

Huberto’s eyes widened for a brief moment before clearing his throat and focusing on cleaning the dishes in a tub near the hearth. Vendil just sighed, swallowing his bite of peanuts.

“Vendil.” he replied curtly.

“I know. I’m poking fun at you. Still gives me a giggle from time to time.” he drawled out, taking the seat across from the other man. He could only sigh as Arthan let out a rusty old gate chuckle.

“Why are you here?”

“Aw, why you gotta be like that? You know with Anku all a-buzz that there’s no work so I decided to crawl outta my hole. Heard that someone let ol’ Narry boy out of his cell and let him go wild. Now he’s in Erothin with his fingers up his ass while you run the show. Am I caught up?”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to shut with a clack. Arthan’s grin grew obnoxiously as he leaned back and sipped on his cup of wine. Vendil could only groan and rest his forehead against his hand as he slouched over his beer.

“Perhaps it’s… something like that.” he mumbled out, taking a long sip of his beer. Glancing down into its bottom, he briefly wondered if a second was in order. Wasn’t part of his ‘destress’ routine but neither was a mouthy Aeterna that kept grinning at him.

“Mm, I’m guessin’ by all those posters slapped on every corner that he’s taken a bunch of credit too.” he tsked, not bothering with the spoon to enjoy sipping on his soup. Vendil only grunted at that. “I wish I could say ‘I told you so’ but even I didn’t expect him not to… I dunno -- not give a shit about his partner in crime.”

His sigh could barely be heard over the crackling of the hearth and Huberto’s soup pot stirring. Arthan cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as his grin softened to a smile. “It wasn’t always like this.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“What do you mean…?

“You’re running a city for him. Now I’m making an assumption but I figure that it’s a high stress job. You’re no longer the hero that saved him but an underling that files tax reports. None of those posters even mention you. Not exactly fair and not a good sign.”

The pinch of peanuts that Vendil held quietly dropped back into the bowl as he glared. Arthan, of course, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “Good sign of what? The city is doing relatively well considering the coup.” A wave of disgust washed over him at how weak his words felt. Suddenly he yearned for the taste of whiskey, not cheap beer.

“He’s half assing city governance to the extent that his closest friend is hiding at a bar to avoid snapping from the pressure. Imagine what’ll happen once he gets Nehrim under his belt.”

Immediately Vendil held a single finger up, earning a cocked eyebrow. “How do you even know any of this? Or are you just pulling all this out of nothing?”

“Shit, Vendil, just open your ears and walk around the market. I’ve only been in the city for three hours and a five minute smoke break by the bank told me more than I wanted to know. Vendil Auralus approved of some new guards, Vendil did such ‘n such tax reform, talk to Vendil if you got concerns. Blah, blah, blah. Not too hard to put two and two together.”

An awkward silence soon filled the room, leaving only the sound of the crackling logs in the hearth. Huberto, despite his nature, peeked over his shoulder towards them, still hunched over the dish tub. A quick wiggle of the eyebrows from Arthan made the man snap his head forward so quickly that Vendil was sure he had whiplash.

“I, uh…”

“It’s so damn obvious that it might as well slap me on the ass on the way out. I’m only telling you this because you seem to be the only one who doesn’t know. Don’t feel bad about it. No one really knows their own reputation.” Arthan’s chair creaked softly as he leaned back further like a lazy cat in the sun. Vendil simply glanced at his reflection in his glass. His face was colored piss yellow from the beer but even that unflattering shade didn’t hide the circles under his eyes or the droop of his ears. Golden eyes were unashamedly looking at him once he finally tore his gaze away.

“You’re not chickenshit so what’s the problem?”

Another sigh -- probably the millionth of that afternoon. “He murdered his girlfriend and father. Narathzul’s not exactly the most reasonable person.”

“So?”

“So…”

“Listen, I’m not exactly the most knowledgeable with history but Narathzul has a mile long track record of failing miserably. Treomar? Just look at the place. His little conquest of Inodan? He ended up getting tossed into a cell and was rotting for a thousand years. His little recent streak of luck has been less about luck and more about you.”

“He murdered his girlfriend and father.”

“I know, I know but you got leverage. You’re justified in saying something. And if he tries to pull something funny? Well, you’ve got a shield and a mean right hook, don’t you? What other options do you got left? At this point, it’s not if he’s gonna fuck you over but when. Do it on your own terms at least.” He loudly sipped on the dregs of his wine. As he did, he spotted from the corner of his eye Vendil’s face contorting into a mess of expressions -- rage, confusion, disgust, and a few unrecognizable ones. Eventually he settled on something akin to a dried out old grape -- scrunched up and quite bitter.

“All he does is pour over the Predestination and sit on his throne. I can barely get his signature much less get him to govern the city. It’s like he sees Erothin as nothing more than a stepping stone instead of a living breathing city. The people here have hopes and dreams and I can’t just ignore them.” he groaned, feeling the tightness in his chest unclench just a little.

“I get what you’re saying but the Predestination?” Arthan asked softly, leaning over the table just slightly.

“It’s a prophecy about the Shadow God or Tel'lmaltath… or whatever. Basically it’s about a god of shadow dethroning the Light-Born and restoring balance. Like all prophecies, it’s vague enough to mask the incompetence of others.” Tension yet again plucked at his chest. This is clearly private information that Narathzul entrusted to him. Focusing on Arthan’s face, he noted the tenderness the man surprisingly invoked. Concern wove itself into the man’s crow’s feet as he reclined back once more. He expected guilt to overwhelm him at the admission but it never came.

Arthan’s lips thinned as he fell silent for a moment. His eyes flickered back and forth between his lap and Vendil’s eyes. “Now that is worrying…”

“What? That he intends on killing the gods?”

“No, no. Those seven aren’t gods. Never were, never will be. Their downfall is inevitable. But what concerns me is the source of this prophecy and amount of shit Narathzul’s going to be in. For a man who spites the gods, he sure does love blindly following higher powers.”

Vendil’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched the other all but pour the rest of his now lukewarm soup down his throat. “In a hurry somewhere?” Vendil asked quietly, his voice surprisingly weak.

“I’ve still got some errands to do while there’s time left. Can’t you feel it? There’s a spring thunderstorm coming soon.” His ears twitched as he rooted around in his bag, grumbling as the various mish-mash of his pack clinked together. “Um… oh! There we go. Got a gift for you.”

“You left the king so frazzled that he forgot to properly gift you a token of the Starling’s affections.” he explained as Vendil examined the scroll. The paper felt like butter in his palms, so smooth and alien, with an even odder looking strap of leather tying it together. “A teleportation spell in case you need to head back to Anku, specially made by the old bird.”

Vendil only nodded, knowing better than to question the reasoning of Starlings. “Well, I appreciate it. I’ll have to thank him later.”

A shrug was his response as Arthan quickly plopped his hat back on his head. “The man might be gone by the time any of us get back to Anku. They’re getting ready for the ‘Grand Voyage’ and all that. Thankfully, the old bird is staying behind.”

“The king?”

“Nah, the old bird.” he clarified, not bothering to explain further as he slung his pack over his shoulder after rising to feet. Huffing, he glanced over at the innkeeper who kept himself busy with the soup. “Well, I might see you around later. Might even visit the palace for work.”

“Interested in joining Narathzul’s army?”

“Fuck no, just need the work. Narry can kiss my hairy ass.” he mumbled, rifling through his pockets to slap some coins down for the meal. “Enjoy yourself, you hear?”

“I hear.” he replied yet he didn’t receive an answer nor did he expect one. Glancing down into his beer, he huffed and began to chug. Midway through, his ears twitched at the quiet jingling that grew fainter with each step away. Almost on cue, rain began to fall upon the windows.

“Huberto… I think I’ll take a glass of whiskey if you don’t mind.”

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.28)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Holidays (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: As a quirk geneticist, you never really imagined yourself getting involved in hero work. Of course, you never imagined catching the eye of a pro hero either. What starts as a great career opportunity turns into a relationship built upon mutual secrets and trust.

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Chapter Guide

You had hoped the holidays would provide another much needed break from the stress of your everyday schedule, but going home for Christmas only ended up being a solid two days of downtime for you to sit and worry about everything going on in your life. Whether the Hero Commission really needed your boyfriend around for the weekend or the villains were subtly punishing you for refusing Dabi’s offer, Hawk ended up being far too busy to return to your hometown with you like you’d originally planned. So, you hopped on a train and made the journey home by yourself.

Visiting with your family was something you normally really looked forward to, but this time you found yourself in the awkward situation of dodging questions about your boyfriend that you yourself didn’t know the answers to, and giving vague replies to their inquiries about what you had been up to in the lab with Dr. Garaki. Your entire life and somehow become confidential, and you wondered if being around the people you loved had really been the smartest choice, especially given the threats Dabi had made the day you met him. The more you thought about it, the more your imagination tortured you with worst case scenarios.

Even stopping by your old lab did not provide a break from the interrogations. Instead of finding work to keep your mind off the troubles waiting for you back in Tokyo, you just ended up on the receiving end of a ton of gossip relating directly to the problems you’d been trying to avoid.

“Looks like all the top hero schools are doing an extra round of internships this year,” your boss says conversationally as you try to sort and put away the newest shipment of research journals she’d ordered. “I suppose with all the fuss about the League of Villains, not to mention the nomus, they’re trying to toughen up the next generation of heroes. It makes sense, but I’m a little surprised since UA has even required their first year students to get provisional licenses. Seems a bit much to me.”

“Yeah, I guess, but UA is known for pushing the envelope with the standards held for its students, you know?” you reply with a shrug. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth either. Hero course students around the country weren’t just training themselves to face more dangerous villains. At the moment, they were being prepped for an outright battle that they had no idea was coming. The general public knew about the League and the nomus, but they had no clue about the Liberation army or the monster quirk guy that the commission was so worried about. Apparently, the current heroes weren’t expected to be enough to handle the magnitude of the threat, so the pressure of securing a victory would fall mostly on the students in the end. It was just another reason for your distaste with the Hero Commission to intensify.

“I noticed Hawks hasn’t been working with any interns this time around though,” Your boss had clearly been keeping a close eye on her favorite hero. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind, but you really didn’t want her digging for information that would put her in danger if she got too close to the truth. “Even Endeavor has been patrolling with three students over the holidays.”

“Unfortunately, his plate has been a little full recently,” you hoped she would be satisfied with that answer. Although it was only natural, it made you feel anxious that she was asking so many questions. All the secrets were piling up and now that a plan for ending all this madness was falling into place, there was even more pressure for you to tread carefully with your actions and words. Even if you weren’t being monitored as carefully as Hawks, there was every possibility that the villains were keeping an eye on you too.

“Well, just as long as you two aren’t fighting or anything,” Your boss hums, eyeing you curiously. “I felt a bit concerned when he didn’t come here with you this time.”

“No, we’re both just busy,” you assure her. Fighting wasn’t the right word, but there had been a lot more intense discussions between you and your hero boyfriend recently. The thing with Dabi had, unfortunately, only been the tip of the iceberg. With the issue of giving up information about Hawks to the league basically resolved, now you were both having disagreements about where you’d be during the massive raid that would be taking place in just a couple of months.

Thanks to Hawks, the Commission knew exactly where the League of Villains and their army were hiding out. And thanks to you, they knew exactly where the high-end nomus were being created and kept. The plan was to attack both locations simultaneously before Shigaraki’s procedure could be completed in order to reduce the amount of damage and casualties in the attack. Even with the element of surprise though, it was sure to be a literal warzone. Hawks had been trying to convince you to take a day off from the lab once the date was set, but as usual you had to deny his request, fearing that you could somehow tip them off about the raid just by calling in. For the plan to work, the villains could absolutely not suspect anything.

Of course, it wasn’t like you wanted to be there when all hell broke loose. Actually, the more you thought about, it the more terrified you were. Any number of things could go wrong, and you had no way to defend yourself if you got caught up in the conflict. It scared you even more knowing that Hawks would not be there to protect you. He would most certainly be assigned to the Villain’s location so that he could play his role with them as long as possible. You would have to rely on the team assigned to the hospital to keep you safe. The only thought giving you any sort of comfort was that, as long as the Commission was able to finalize and prepare their plans in time, both Shigaraki and the nomus should remain in their dormant state until all the fighting was already over.

Thankfully, Hawks was an incredible boyfriend and had somehow managed to arrange to be at your apartment when you finally got home after the holiday was over. You honestly could have cried in relief when you opened the door to find him waiting for you with open arms.

“I missed you,” you sigh while tucking yourself into his chest and wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“I missed you too, love.” He smiles while leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “How’s your family? Do they think I’m the worst for not being there with you?”

“Not at all,” you smile and enjoy the warmth of his embrace for a moment longer. “They’re all fine, but my boss had a few things to say about it though.” Hawks lets out a dry laugh.

“Of course she did.” He didn’t seem to want to let go of you either. You weren’t looking forward to the novel he most likely had written for you to read and catch up on everything that had happened in the few days you’d been gone. When you finally step back and look up at his face, there’s a small smirk on his lips.

“What?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“I may have set a little trap,” he glances up and you follow his eyes to see mistletoe hanging above the doorway. Some of the tension finally leaves you as a laugh escapes your mouth.

“Cheesy,” You shake your head at him. “You know I would’ve kissed you anyway.”

“Maybe, but this seemed like a fun idea anyway.” His smile chased away the last of your worries for a moment and you gladly kiss him back when he presses his lips to yours. The way his hands move to grip your sides and hold you closer hinted that he hadn’t enjoyed the time apart any more than you had. The fact that you only got to see each other for minutes at a time when you both were in town didn’t mean much since there was at least some comfort in knowing you were at least together in the same city.

“Mmm, you’re right.” You say breathlessly after he pulls away. “That was a fun idea.”

“But wait, there’s more!” He says in a bad impression of a TV commercial before chuckling at himself. “I also have a Christmas gift for you.”

“I may have gotten something for you too,” you admit. He takes your hand and leads you into the house so you can sit down. You’re surprised to see he’d put up a few decorations and even bought a small little Christmas tree to put by the window. “You know you didn’t have to do all this, bird-kun.”

He smiles almost shyly while taking a wrapped box from under the tree and handing it to you. “Sure,” he shrugs, “but this is our first holiday together and I felt bad I couldn’t spend more time with you. It only took me a few minutes to set it all up with my feathers anyway. I wish I’d had time to do more.”

“This is perfect,” you pull him down to sit next to you, leaning forward to give him another lingering kiss. “How about using those feathers to get the box on the top shelf of the closet?”

“You got it,” He nods as a couple red feathers shoot from his wings towards your bedroom, coming back just a few seconds later carrying the gift you’d hidden away for him. “This the one?”

“Yeah,” you confirm before looking down at the pretty wrapped box in your lap, wondering what was inside. You were so thankful that Hawks hadn’t bombarded you with too many questions about your trip home, or jumped straight to business with updates on the league. It was nice to come home to a normal life situation and have a few sweet moments as a regular couple celebrating Christmas together. Hopefully, after enduring the next few torturous months, you could have this kind of life full time with Hawks.

[livelivefastfree]

have you been working on any new fics?? (your stories are wonderful, ive drowned myself in polyburners thanks to you 😔 its a good place to be)

Not really anything new, although I’ve been picking away at some older ones that I never finished!  Namely the plot-heavy sequel to my telepathic soul-bond superhero AU, the intimidatingly complicated sequel to Save A Horse, Ride A Dragon, and my Burnerswap AU where the villains are all our new Burners and the Burners are villains.

Unfortunately since I’m a nurse work has been kind of stressful recently and also my brain only likes to focus on one thing at a time which is currently original novel things.  So process is pretty slow, haha.  But I’m glad I could bring more people into the polyburners fold!

I do feel bad that I haven’t had the energy to post much for a while; revamping my burnerswap doc is the most recent thing I’ve gotten work done on, so here’s a little bit of scene-setting!

Deluxe is a mass of spires and platforms, shimmering in the sunshine outside Red’s window.  Red stares up at the ceiling, at the pale golden glow of sunlight on the pale polymer.  He can hear the sound of someone loudly imitating an electric guitar, and faint thumps and thuds through the wall; Duke is taking his traditional lengthy shower and using up all their precious hot water.  From the smells drifting up from downstairs, Jacob is already up and in the kitchen experimenting.  Kaia is probably upstairs on the roof, tending to her plants, and Abraham had to go back down to the undercity last night.  His absence is a hole; no sound of him talking to Jacob in the kitchen, working out irritatingly on Red’s balcony, yelling at Duke for using up the water.  There’s always something slightly off, a little bit wrong, when part of their team is missing.

Red sits up, buckles his patch on over the remnant of his left eye, and pushes himself up out of bed to see what’s for breakfast.

Jacob is stirring something in a pan when he Red arrives.  There’s a heaping basket of miscellaneous vegetables on the counter next to him, so probably Red’s in for some kind of veggie abomination this morning—but it’s a veggie abomination Red doesn’t have to make and then burn, and he doesn’t really have a sense of taste anymore, anyway.  Red drops into a chair, and Jacob piles up a plate of fried vegetables and sets it wordlessly down in front of him.

It’s quiet for a while. Red eats as much as he can manage, and Jacob knows him well enough not to frown when Red has to push the plate away half-eaten.  

“Quiet night?” he says, eventually.

“All quiet in the pit,” Red says, and goes to the cooler to fish out a nutrient shake instead.  “No calls from Abraham.  No alerts, no bots, no Dragon.”

“Mm.”  Jacob shakes his head, making an unconvinced grumbling noise.  “They’ll come.  They always do.”

Red can’t argue that. He stayed on the edge of the platform until the small hours of the morning, looking down into the dark city far below, watching every gleam of light and flicker of movement, waiting for the first flash of red glass eyes or matte metal claws.

The others drift downstairs eventually, one at a time; Duke grimaces at the vegetable mess, but Kaia piles in with every sign of enjoyment.  Red sits back and listens to Jacob and Duke bicker, Kaia’s laughing jabs at both of them indiscriminately, and lets the sunlight soften some of the harsh, nauseated fatigue.

He doesn’t realize he’s beginning to drift off, but when his comms light up red with an urgent chime, it startles him badly enough he almost drops his drink.

“Come in,” Abraham’s voice says, flat and low.  “Red.”

“Copy,” says Red, and pushes himself up, already moving. The rest of his team reorders around him, Jacob heading for the garage, Duke and Kaia immediately running for their rooms, their weapons.  Red picks up his gloves, feeling the circuitry inside thrum hotly against his palms. “Incoming?”

“How did you guess,” says Abraham dryly.  “Three Climbers.  Two on North Side, one coming up from the East.  And she’s sending up the Dragon.”

Red falters in mid-step, then growls and heads down the staircase to the garage, taking the steps two at a time. “Can you make it up?”

“I can try,” Abraham says, but Red knows that tone to his voice, rough and grim.  “I think she’s targeting the medical complex on platform 18.  Don’t get distracted.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Red says, and Abraham gives a brief bark of a laugh and then cuts the call.

--

Deluxe looks beautiful in the sunlight, if beauty is something to pay attention to; Red has seen it a thousand times, growing up from the old undercity of Detroit like an indescribably huge tree made of silver and marble.  The platforms that make up the city itself look almost fragile from a distance, hovertech and superlight polymers, gleaming with solar panels and greenery.  The massive support structure that holds the city up grows dirtier and more patchwork as it descends into the bristling thicket of ancient, blocky concrete buildings.

Whole civilizations have made their homes on the platforms along that winding trunk.  Around its base, built onto the rooftops of old skyscrapers, Red can see the distant gleam of the Casino King’s sprawling compound, gaudy with red and gold floodlights.  There are urban legends about an entire lost city, one that made its living in among the building-sized struts and cables themselves, before some unspecified calamity cut all communication with them short.

Some of the midway settlements are against Kane, some of them are only indifferent, but Red can only assume that trying to bargain her way through was too much trouble.  Kane took matters into her own hands, and had her R&D invent the Climbers.

Red has eyes on one of them now; a long, low shape, slinking across the platform.  Six-legged, with four glowing eyes each, moving with an unnerving, artificial grace—the mechanical nightmare-offspring of a wolf and some kind of insect.  The tips of their claws hum faintly, lit up—plasma-cutter edges, sharp enough to sink into the polymer like hot knives through butter.  Red is a platform above them, out of their field of vision, but he’s seen the way the things scale vertical surfaces, faster than anything that size should be able to move.

As Red watches, one of them opens its mouth, showing hundreds of needle-sharp fangs lit hellish red from the inside, and lets out an awful, scraping snarl.

“I’ve got eyes on one,” Red says, keeping his voice low.  

“Yeah, yeah, we see ‘em over here too,” Duke says, tight and sharp with bravado.  “Easy.  Let’s get it done!”

“I’ve got your back,” Kaia says.  “Let’s show these things what—”

“Hey, Red,” says a voice, and something taps Red on the shoulder.  “Tag.”

The moment of shock is enough to freeze Red in place for a single fraction of a second, and that’s a hesitation he can’t afford.  A blunt edge slams into his ribs, knocks him over off his feet; he rolls, comes up on his feet again and sends out a blind shockwave of energy—throws himself to one side as a staff sweeps past where his ankles were, and this time when he lashes out he feels the impact strike true.

The Dragon of Detroit takes the hit and lets it bowl him backwards, turns the motion into a back-handspring and comes to a skidding halt, shaking overgrown brown bangs out of his dark eyes.  He’s laughing, smiling as wide and wild as he always does; the deep scar that stretches crookedly from his cheekbone to his chin twists his smile into something just slightly crooked and bitter, but his laugh sounds irritatingly, insultingly genuine.

“Chilton,” Red snarls, and the man spins his staff behind his back and sweeps a bow, grinning.  

“I’m guessing you’re not interested in doing this the easy way, kid,” he says, and Red clenches his fists, lightning crawling up his arms.  “Yeah, I didn’t figure.  Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“The fuck I can’t,” Red snaps, and Chilton huffs out a breath and shakes his head, ever-present smile never fading.  “If you really cared about not hurting anybody you wouldn’t be working for that—”

It’s the flicker of Chilton’s eyes that gives it away, and the faintest sound of scraping metal; Red dives to one side on instinct, just in time to avoid the snap of jagged metal jaws and six sets of wickedly-clawed feet.  He comes up swinging, lands a few solid hits; the Climber shrieks as one of its legs spasms and cracks, red lightning and dented metal grinding in one of its back legs.

“Backup!” Red snaps into his comm, and then there’s only the fight.

He’s being distracted, he knows it even while it’s happening, but he can’t break his focus away long enough to care.  Chilton is gone, he has to be raiding that medical compound, and Red is stuck here, fighting some stupid robot—

“Heads up!” yells a voice, and Red glances up and then back-pedals abruptly as a huge, blocky shape comes rocketing off the next platform up and drops like a comet onto the Climber’s head.  The back half of the bot gives a meaty crunch as Jacob’s construction rig lifts back off of it, leaking nasty, thick, black fluid as it tries to drag itself forward on its two remaining legs; Red steps forward, grimacing in distaste, tears a dented plate away and buries his hand in the things neck to deliver one final, merciless jolt.  The Climber whirrs, gives a gurgling growl, and finally goes still.

“Jumpin’ Josephat,” says Jacob, from inside the clunky, ugly cube he calls a hovercar.  “You still in one piece down there?”

“Where’s Chilton?!” Red says, and then jerks and looks up at the sound of a laugh, echoing off the white walls and walkways around them.  

The Dragon is standing at the very edge of the platform, silhouetted against the sky; he makes eye contact with Red, brief and grinning, one hand on the side of a stolen transport pod. Then he throws off a brief, mocking salute, and launches himself backwards off the edge of the platform into thin air, vanishing over the edge.

“Criminy,” says Jacob weakly, because Jacob is an 80-year-old man in a 20-year-old body.  

“Fuck,” Red hisses, and slams a fist down on the ground, leaving lightning-jagged scorch marks across the white polymer.  Takes a few breaths and repeats, “…fuck,” soft and hoarse, poisonous in his mouth.

“Yeah,” says Jacob, and his boots thump softly as he slides down, his hand settles carefully on Red’s shoulder.  “C’mon. Let’s get back to the others.”

[lochrannn]

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 4/?

-

Of course it’s been something that, at the very back of her mind, has been causing her no small amount of stress, but Lila has been doing a very good job of just completely ignoring the topic. Only, when her co-worker Nandi, a med student from South Africa, asks Lila how much longer she’ll be staying in the country, now that she’s dropped out of her degree, does it fully register with her that her student visa has expired and she’s into the last three weeks of her grace period. After that, she’ll be in the country illegally.

Lila smiles at Nandi brightly and tells her that she’s not made a decision yet and that she’s looking at a couple of options.

On her break she goes out into the alley and bums a smoke off one of the teenage busboys who seems to be working at the restaurant that’s right next to her café, even though she’s not had a cigarette in years, and contemplates what to do.

And predictably she comes up short.

So after her shift ends, she heads to the public library and finds several volumes on immigration law for research, because she doesn’t want to ask one of the librarians.

After an hour of frustratedly thumbing through the books, the only short term solution she has found is to get married to a citizen.

She’s back at square one with no idea what to do, when she leaves her books on the collection cart and heads out into the rainy evening.

By the time she walks in through the door, she’s not sure if she’s just breezed straight through panic and worry or whether she’s just too numb to feel it, but at the smell of cooking food, she immediately follows the aromas to the kitchen and for a moment gets distracted at the door by the sight of Diego gently stirring something on the stove.

Apparently sensing her arrival, Diego twists around to look at her and says, “Oh hey, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Lila drags her eyes up to meet his and belatedly realises that she’s unabashedly been staring at his arse in a pair of perfectly fitted jeans.

“Uh…” she says dumbly.

Somehow she’s got so used to him not being around over the last few days that coming home to someone in the flat is completely throwing her for a loop.

“I’m making gorditas,” Diego says, having turned back to stirring and making idle conversation, “d’you want some?”

When she doesn’t answer right away, still dealing with the whiplash of her day, Diego turns back around and asks, “Hey, you ok?”

Lila scrambles for an answer and, trying to avoid telling Diego that the sight of him all sexily making food has made all the thoughts in her brain combust, she accidentally lands on the other truth and blurts, “Yeah, uh, fine… just dealing with some visa troubles!”

Diego’s expression turns into one of such genuine concern that Lila instantly regrets being the cause of that.

“Ah shit! That sucks,” he says. “Anything I can help you with?”

Lila snorts loudly, “Thanks, but I doubt there’s anything you could do… short of marrying me,” she adds in a sarcastic tone.

There’s a beat where Diego looks at her with a completely blank expression and she knows it’s not the cooking that suddenly makes the temperature in the small kitchen go up a couple of notches. Then he makes a face that’s half smirk and half shy smile and something behind Lila’s ribs cracks at the sight and she hopes she never has to see it again, because she hasn’t the foggiest idea how to respond to it.

“Ha! Yeah,” Diego says then, pointing at her with his spatula and then turns back to the stove again.

“So, uh, d’you want some?” he asks, with a strained kind of casualness, not actually looking at her, and this time Lila is quicker to answer, “Yeah… yes, thanks! I’ll just go get out of my work clothes!”

Lila hurries into her room and then leans against the closed door for a moment. What the fuck is wrong with her? Only a few days ago, she was accusing Diego of being weird and now she’s joking about getting married. This is ridiculous!

She pushes off from the door and begins taking off her work clothes to change into something more comfortable.

Lila’s only justification for her odd behaviour is that she really is stressed out by the idea of having to leave the country. It’s not like she couldn’t start out again somewhere else, Australia maybe, the main thing is, she knows she can’t go back to England, too many bad memories there, but she just doesn’t want to.

She’s been floating about her whole life, and even though what she has going on right now isn’t exactly conventional, to her it feels like a respite. Maybe it won’t be permanent, but here in this city, with her job, and her flat, she’s been feeling significantly more settled than she has in a while and she doesn’t want to have to give that up so soon.

If only she could just marry Diego…

Is that really such an insane solution? Lila thinks to herself, while pulling on a pair of leggings.

She would pay him, of course, and she knows he needs the money. It’s a terribly weird thing to ask your landlord/recent lover/friend but Lila just cannot conceptualise any other solution. And he’s been remarkably patient with her antics over the last few days, maybe he’s actually a lot more relaxed about this sort of thing than she thinks. She can at least make the offer, worst case scenario they go back to being awkward around each other for a few days and she’s sure they’ll be back to normal in no time at all.

Lila makes her way back towards the kitchen and finds Diego already in the process of piling food onto the small table that barely has any room in the first place.

There’s a plate with little flat and round doughy things and a few dishes with different steaming fillings in them. There’s a decidedly spicy smell in the air and Lila can’t help the way her mouth starts watering.

“Yo, don’t just stand there, take a seat!” Diego says with a chuckle and Lila heads straight for the table and says with a laugh of her own, “Don’t have to tell me twice! Fuck that smells amazing! Did you make all of this yourself?”

“Uh, some of the fillings are made up of leftover takeout from the last couple of days,” Diego answers with a bit of a bashful shrug as he sits down across from her and shuffles around some of the dishes so he can squeeze one more onto the table, “but I made the gorditas and added some shit to the fillings,” he amends a bit more confidently.

Lila takes one of the little dough pockets and immediately starts spooning in different salsas and pastes. She doesn’t ask what’s in them, just picks up the dishes and gives them a sniff to decide which ones she wants.

“Mmmm!” she hums almost desperately when she takes her first bite. She looks up at Diego who is looking back at her with a glint in his eyes and chewing delightedly on his own food.

“Fuck, this is good!” Lila says, rudely not even having swallowed all of her mouthful.

“I know, right!” Diego answers with a chuckle.

They fall into easy conversation. At one point Diego gets up to get two beers from the fridge to wash down the food and Lila tries to get comfortable on the hard kitchen chair by tucking one of her feet underneath herself and her knee up under her chin.

After they run out of gorditas, Diego uses some slightly stale bread to finish up the rest of the fillings and then gets up to pile the dishes into the sink.

“I can do the dishes!” Lila offers, seeing as she’s been mooching off of Diego’s labour all evening.

“Nah,” Diego says, “dinner’s on me!”

As he starts filling the sink with water, the sudden domesticity of the scene reminds Lila of her plan to actually ask Diego for help.

She excuses herself and heads back to her room and while she’s rummaging through her drawers looking for her cheque book, her pulse starts speeding up and she tries to calm her nerves.

If he says no, she thinks she can handle the fallout of that, though she’ll still be lost for a way to stay in the country. But right now, she’s almost more anxious about what happens if he agrees. But tonight has been one of the most pleasant evenings she’s had in months and probably the most fun she’s had with anyone – she’s strenuously not thinking about the amount of fun she had sleeping with him. Diego’s her only real friend in this city and if after everything they can manage to hang out like this, then, Lila tries to convince herself, they can be pretend married for a while without it being too awkward.

Diego’s drying his hands on a dishtowel when she comes back into the kitchen.

“Diego?” Lila asks, tentatively.

“Mh?” He doesn’t properly acknowledge her as he reaches up to put the clean plates back into the overhead cabinet.

“Earlier… you asked if you could help me with my visa troubles…” Lila feels ridiculous. She’s always been confident and able to ask for, occasionally even straight up demand things. She has a sneaking suspicion that if it were anybody else, she’d just slap the cheque down on the counter and inform them of her plan, but somehow here with Diego, she’s just so unsure of herself.

Diego turns around and leans against the stove top. “Yeah?”

“I… uh… I’d pay you of course! I have money. Turns out I don’t have the same sense of pride as you,” Lila says with a slightly wistful shrug, “I took my mother’s money when she died, felt like it was the least I deserved after the way she treated me my whole life…” she drifts off.

“What do you want to give me money for?” Diego asks, crossing his arms but there’s a peculiar expression on his face that Lila can’t quite read.

“Will you…” She cuts herself off, she can’t ask him like that, “Would you marry me? You know, for money, so I could get a visa?”

Diego’s eyes go really, really wide. Clearly he did not expect her to ask that question and Lila immediately decides to backtrack, “No, you’re right, that’s insane! Forget I asked, I’m sure I can work something out somehow. I just need to do a bit more research and then…”

“Yeah, ok!” Diego interrupts her firmly and Lila’s mouth snaps shut.

She stares back at him and Diego looks no less harassed than when she first asked but he also seems resolved.

Lila panics. “You really don’t have to, I’m sure there’s loads of options. And honestly, if I’m just careful about it I’m sure nobody’s going to find…”

“I’ll do it!” Diego interrupts her rambling again and Lila can’t quite believe her ears.

“Diego, it’s illegal!” She says almost desperately.

“Are you trying to talk me out of it now?” Diego asks with no small amount of exasperation. Then he laughs, but with very little humour in it, “To be honest, the United States government and I have a slightly different understanding of what illegal means in this context.”

That gives Lila pause and she raises her eyebrows, questioningly.

Diego looks down at where he starts scuffing the toe of his shoe into the grout between the tiles, his arms are still tightly crossed.

“I was born in Mexico. From what I can piece together my mother brought me over the border when I was only a few months old. She died soon after that. The only things I have my father to thank for are my siblings and my citizenship. So yeah, I’ll help you.”

-

They’ve agreed to go down to city hall the next day to apply for a marriage license. No point in delaying the process, this way they can start the visa proceedings before Lila is officially illegally in the country.

After agreeing to get married the ease with which they spent the evening flies out of the window again and they quickly retreat to their separate rooms.

Diego’s lying, still dressed, on top of his comforter waiting till he can’t hear Lila moving about anymore before he’ll head to the bathroom to get ready for bed himself.

He doesn’t regret agreeing to Lila’s plan, not really. It’s fucked up that she has to even resort to something like this to avoid getting thrown out of the country, and honestly, had she asked he would have said yes even if she hadn’t offered him money.

But it’s less messy this way, a clean business arrangement. He already feels just a little bit guilty, because he’s not sure he didn’t also agree out of some sudden selfish fear that she’d leave. He pushes that thought back down as well, because what should he have done, say no just because he can’t quite handle his feelings for her? That wasn’t really an option either.

He breathes out heavily when the light in the hall goes off and gets up from the bed to go brush his teeth.

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 7: you matter to me (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Mr. and Mrs. Grimm’s A+ parenting, panic attacks, unconventional sibling problems/dynamics, very brief disappearance (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! All feedback is very welcomed, I didn’t have anyone to beta so *sighs loudly*. This chapter is kinda angsty and opens up some fun new plot relevant strings. I also want to make it clear that I will be demonstrating Roman putting in work to fix his mess ups in later chapters as well! He’s got some loose ends to tie up, and he will do so. 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Creativitwins

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord @genderlessfish

Janus’ eyes move to Logan, they seem to communicate without a breath between them. Logan takes nothing but his phone with him when he heads into the hall, but it’s far too late. Remus is nowhere in sight.

Roman takes a shuddering sigh, places his head in his hands, and leans against the makeup counter.

“I’m-I’m sorry-I don’t-I don’t know what that was-”

“Yes, you do.”

The room feels so uncomfortable, the tension could be cut with a knife. Roman knows Janus well enough to know his glare cuts sharper than any weapon could ever. Especially to him. His face stays firmly planted in his hands, hiding from the truth he’s been avoiding for far too long.

“Roman, look at me,” Janus orders. 

He listens and keels back in shame at the look of anger and disappointment on his friend’s face.

“Tell me the truth, why are you doing this?”

It’s a good question. For all it’s worth though, he doesn’t know. Which seems like the cop-out of the century, but truly...he has no clue at the moment. That, however, is not an answer Janus will accept and not one he will accept of himself. 

With a deep breath, he thinks “Alright, Roman. Be honest. Why are you doing this?”

Within moments he gets it and it is the easiest conclusion he’s ever come to. The twins have always had a very sturdy dichotomy. Remus was a messy and wild child growing up, while Roman was clean and polite. When they played, there was always a good and just prince and an evil conniving duke. There were good marks and bad marks. Good ideas and bad ideas. Clean and messy. Good and evil. Something nice and something terrible. Even in the eyes of their parents. It didn’t matter to them as children, Remus even seemed to enjoy it on occasion. Looking back, he only ever liked being “bad” when he got to choose it. When they played in their yard and there was a choice between swimming in the pool and scooping water onto the grass to “drown the bugs”, he was the happiest child in the universe. When the school called their father and told him that Remus had been in another fight, he looked like someone had ripped his soul from his body. It didn’t matter the reason he was fighting, he was “bad”. Roman had always thought the merit of the fight was dictated by why you were fighting in the first place, but apparently, he was wrong. 

The dichotomy they played into was fun! It was! For a while, at least. Then Roman began being berated by everyone around him for acting similarly to his brother. Then Remus was the new social outcast months before they hit middle school. Then it wasn’t fun anymore. Being “good” was stressful and lonely. Teachers, classmates, friends, family, everyone equated “good” with perfect. Perfection is a hard burden to bear alone and twelve years old. Roman’s mind drifts to when they split up. When the dichotomy became less of a two-person game played for fun, and more of an ugly sweater from an aunt that they had to wear to every formal event. It was hard, it was always much too hard. It hurt him. Recently, he realized the much heavier burden of being “bad”. The stress and loneliness must be tenfold when everyone beats into your brain that you are the perfect example of the “Evil Twin” trope. Even your own brother. Your twin. 

“Everyone told me,”

They had been a pair once.

“‘Roman, you’re such a good kid, you’re good at everything.’”

They were a good pair. Even now. He’d worked with him just a month ago to put something together and it was amazing.

“‘There is nothing you can’t do!’”

A few months ago, he was doing something he hadn’t thought possible and making amends with his brother.

“To them, I was independent and self-sufficient,”

He wasn’t either of those things, not then and not now. He had always been a pair.

“I was perfect. I had to be.”

The catch is that he gave up the only person who didn’t care if he was perfect.

“I thought it was true, I-”

The catch is that now his actions dawn on him fully like a wave over the shore.

“I needed them to be right.”

His breath shakes, “Who am I if I’m not that?”

The wave of grief and guilt crashes into him, and all he can think about now is how much he wants to take back every single mean thing he’s ever said about his brother. He feels the sea of emotions that he’s held back take him in and drown him with ferocity. Janus sighs as Roman stares at him through watery eyes.

“Roman. You were doing so well with Remus.”

He’s right, Janus is always right about these things. Two months ago, he had been doing so much better. He and Remus were still bickering in public, but it was fun to him. Though when Remus had “glue-and-feather’d” his makeup bag, he had thrown a little fit, he laughed about it later. Remus had laughed with him. It was light and fun. May, June, and most of July were the most fun he’d had with Remus in years. They’d spent time together, helped each other with chores, ridden to the theatre together. Little, minuscule things. Things that made such a tremendous difference in Roman’s confidence. 

“What happened?”

The same thing that always happened. His mother came home

There was always something different about his mother. When he and Remus had befriended Janus in elementary school, they met someone else's mother for the first time. He realized the day he had met her what made his mom so different. Lillian Devine, or as they called her Mrs.Lilli, was quite possibly the strangest woman they had ever met. The first time they saw her, Janus had seen her outside the school and made a beeline for his mother’s arms. She took him up into her arms, gave him a spin, and hugged him tightly. Roman doesn’t remember much from being that young, but he can remember the first moment he felt jealousy was when Lillian took Janus into that hug and loudly announced that she missed him. Only gone a day at school, and she missed him enough to announce it to the world. He remembers going home to a very big, very empty house. He was grumpy, clutching Remus’ hand like a lifeline as their nanny ushered them into their room and told them she would collect them at dinner time. When she collected them, Roman asked if she had missed them. She said, “I’m not your mother, am I?”.

His mother was different. When she came home, she would offer Roman a hug and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Every time, even the most recent. Like clockwork. Roman, sometimes accompanied by Remus, would wait outside the door for his mother’s car to arrive. She would exit and her heels would clack along the stone pathway. She would kiss him on the cheek when she got up the steps, offer him a quick hug, then begin to speak about her latest adventures in Paris. If Remus stood with him, she would give him her coat. Roman would always take it from him, hang it up, and follow his mother wherever she went. Recently the thought of their mother handing Remus her coat made Roman want to puke. 

They’d had dinner together one night in July. On her most recent visit, she told stories of her new revolutionary fashion line. He told her all about the newest theatre show. Remus made an effort to sit with them, and it was a labour for Roman to look at his mother when he spoke instead of Remus. He was there for all his anecdotes but he would still hang off of every word just to find something to prod at. Remus stood, and his mother’s words echoed in his brain.

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

He latches onto that conversation, that’s really when the downfall started. 

“Mother, that was quite rude…” He says softly, keeping his eyes on his plate.

“Sometimes you have to tell the truth, my darling.” She laughs then, and Roman wants more than anything to get up and chase his brother.

“Speaking of your theatre production,” He turns his attention back to her, “Your father is thinking of coming this year.”

All thoughts of defending his brother leave his brain entirely. His mouth dries and he feels the onset of excitement and pure panic. At that moment he is consumed by selfishness and tries to push away the panic and think only of this dream come true. 

“He’ll be happy to hear you got the lead again,”

“But Mother, I told you, I’m only-”

“Yes, the understudy. You’ll change that, won’t you, my darling? I didn’t raise you to get second place, did I?”

He was good. What he was doing was good. He couldn’t disappoint his mother, let alone his father. Truth be told, he barely even spoke to the man except for their short and brief calls on the major holidays. He hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years. He’d outgrown the excuse of him being busy but hadn’t outgrown the fire that a visit from his father lights inside him. It became even worse when after two feeble attempts to be rid of Logan, his father called him. Unprompted, unscheduled, and entirely without cause. He buzzed when he picked up the phone. 

“Roman.”

“Hello, father.” He can barely contain the happiness buzzing around in his throat.

“I have made time in my schedule to come to see your stage performance at the request of your mother. She has told me you landed the lead role again, I can’t say I’m not impressed. This is the sixth year in a row she has asked me, you know. I hope there is some merit to your casting director’s choice.”

He can barely keep himself sat down, the urge to jump around is so intense that he nearly dies. “Oh, certainly! I won’t let you down! Oh! And neither will Remus, he’s entirely spectacular in his role this year, I really think you’ll love-”

“I am not attending this production to see your brother. I trust you won’t let me down, because unlike him, you are not a failure. I will see you then, goodbye.”

In one fell swoop, his father had crushed his mood and strengthened his resolve. 

“My father is coming to the production. He called me himself to confirm.”

“The man who talks to you on average thirty minutes a year is coming to our show? Please tell me you’re joking.” The shock is evident in Janus’ voice as he searches Roman’s face desperately to ensure he’s lying.

“I’m not. My mother, she-she told him I got the lead. He told me-He told me that he was impressed with my track record. Then I-Well I started talking about Remus’ spectacular performance and he...He said he wasn’t coming to see Remus and that I-” Roman is on the verge of tears, he feels the urge to crumble like a war-torn kingdom.

Janus places a hand on his shoulder, meant to be a comfort, “That you what?”

Tears track down Roman’s face as he sits and slumps over to physically display his guilt, “That I’m not a failure like him, so I won’t let him down.”

“I am internalizing so much anger at the moment, please give me a second.” Janus takes a deep breath and screams angrily out loud. Roman takes it as initiative and screams as well, but much more wet and sad. 

Janus pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“You didn’t think to tell anyone any of this?” Roman shakes his head and sniffles.

Janus mutters to himself, “Right. Of course, you didn’t. You fool.” 

“We all know you’re not an absolute prick Roman. You’d obviously just pick on Logan for no reason you’re totally not super stressed or something.” He recoils at that, Janus’ face falls.

“I’m just-Roman-You can talk to me,” Janus speaks with an air entirely too soft for him.

What gets Roman’s attention is the tired and slightly sad, “Lord knows that neither of you does enough.”

“I’m here for you, even if you do some very morally shifty things. Especially if it’s all because you’re all stressed out and your daddy issues are taking centre stage in your mind.” He sits beside him now, taking Roman’s hand in his.

“I know how passionate you are, and I can tell that this isn’t how you want to do it. So, you don’t have to. You have...lots of things to make up for and apologize for. But there is still time. As long as you mean it, and you want to do better.”

Weakly, he mutters “I do.”

“Then find a way to apologize and fix it the way you always do.”

“And what way is that?” He asks with a soft smile, to which Janus chuckles under his breath.

“Facing every and all challenges with courage and honesty. Obviously,” Janus raises a thumb and wipes the tears from Roman’s cheeks with a genuine smile. 

So it was settled then. Roman needed to apologize. To everyone. He was already thinking of ways to express his sorrow and regret properly, his brilliant brain spitting out lavish and somewhat laborious ideas. Janus can tell from the way the passionate light returns to his eyes and he smiles. There is work to be done. 

The door slams open and an entirely too panicked Virgil stands in the doorway, “Janus-”

Work to be done later. Virgil’s breath is coming in whooping waves, his body is shaking, makeup smudged from anxious tears rolling down his face. Janus moves with purpose, approaching Virgil like a particularly protective guardian. Virgil grabs the fabric of his hoodie and tries to breathe.

“That’s it, Virgil, you’re alright,” He coos, gently placing a hand on his head.

“We can’t-” Virgil speech is messy and laboured, “We-We can’t find Remus-He’s-He’s not picking up his phone-I’m-We-”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus has done this before, sure. But it’s always been silly and fun and not motivated by weeks worth of stress and terrible feelings. Roman knows his words were the cherry on the cake, and nearly slaps himself for still being sat there while his brother was who knows where.

Roman grabs Remus’ bag from the floor, opening it to find his phone. There are almost fifty missed messages, most of them from a contact labelled “The Sexy Kind Of Spider” who he can only assume is Virgil. 

“His phone’s still here,” He sifts through the bag some more, “Along with his jacket and his car keys.” 

“Well, I’d say he can’t have gone far, but we all know how crafty Remus is,” Janus says with a drained expression on his face which only inspires Virgil to clutch his shirt even tighter.

There’s a fire in Roman now, an urge to find his brother’s newest hiding spot and somehow make it up to him. He slings the bag over his shoulder and approaches the pair.

“No need to fear, Virge! I’ll find Remus and bring him back to us as quickly as I can!”

Virgil only nods in response, prompting Janus to gently ruffle his hair. Roman leaves, knowing that the Virgil situation is in very capable hands. On to finding his brother. 

He sends a quick text to Thomas debriefing the situation, playing it off as a “typical Remus situation”, and leaves the building. If Remus had been outside the theatre, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Potentially unfortunately from Roman, a certain nerd was out there looking instead. When they made eye contact, Logan approached. He looked...frazzled. Much more so than Roman had ever seen. 

“There you are. I was wondering when you would come help. Remus is missing and hasn’t answered his phone.”

“He left it here, but I’m going to go and look for him.” 

Logan mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of something-or-other, but Roman does not have the time to care. Him and Logan talk for another minute, Logan even gives him his number to call when he finds him. Logan says he’s going to get more people to look, Roman only nods. He’s focused in, there’s hope for a new start still and he’ll be damned if he loses it to Remus randomly disappearing forever. He piles into his car with Remus’ bag and starts his search.

Hope turns to fear after the third hour with no signs of his brother. He had checked his house, all the old spots Remus used to love, their whole neighbourhood, Janus’ house, every department store near the theatre. Nothing. It was like a magician cast a spell to make his brother disappear. He’s on the verge of panic. His hands are shaking like a bitch and his breathing wavers with each word he mutters to himself to ease his anxiety. He has to pull over into the parking lot of the convenience store near his home. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive anywhere anymore. He wonders for a moment how in the hell his brother disappeared so quickly. He only had about thirty minutes on foot ahead of them, how had nobody found him? He almost cries sitting at the wheel. What if he’d been kidnapped? Murdered? Taken for ransom? Wait, that’s the same as kidnapping, isn’t it? God, it didn’t matter now! His brother was gone. For nearly ten minutes he lets the situation hit him hard. Tears roll through his body and he sobs. If Remus was gone forever, what would he do? What could he do? 

A worker from the store comes out from the front. They see Roman and Roman sees them. Roman couldn’t care less that they now look incredibly uncomfortable. They move to the back of the store and from Roman can see, they’re talking to someone. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know why he’s watching. He’s still crying like a baby. The thought of having lost his brother to the universe is still making his head pound. The worker gives whoever they’re talking to a smile, walks back inside the store, and from the till inside they give Roman a reassuring smile as well. He gives them a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath. He needs to pull himself together and find-

When Remus turns the corner from behind the store, Roman goes for the door handle before he can think. The sight of his shivering, tear-stained, obviously upset brother has him moving. He rips the door open and scrambles out. He trips over the edge of the car door and it doesn’t even matter. His palms and knees scrape against the concrete, ripping the skin on his hands and hurting his knees. He doesn’t care. It stings and he doesn’t care. The second he’s on his feet again he bolts at Remus and throws his arms around his chest. His head is firmly locked between Remus’ neck and shoulder, he’s grabbing at his shirt like a lifeline. His breathing is erratic, the tears are back now and back with a vengeance. His knees are shaking. He hadn’t even recognized how terribly and horribly scared of losing his brother he even was. Feeling it now was like the first breath of autumn air in your summer lungs. Remus stands there, just stands there. For a moment, the buzzing of his mind recognizes someone saying his name. Then there are arms around him. He’s being squeezed within an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind again. 

All Roman’s scared voice can squeak out is a loud and cracking, “I’m sorry!”

They stand together in the chilly late-august afternoon air, in full sight of any neighbours or employees at the store, for five minutes. They sway slightly. Remus doesn’t say a word. Not one passes through his lips. Remus pulls away, only to take Roman’s hand and drag him to the car. 

“C’mon you crybaby, let’s go home.”

Roman just nods and doesn’t comment on the tears on Remus’ cheeks. Remus takes the driver’s seat and Roman piles into the passengers’ side. He holds his brother’s bag in his lap, he squeezes it tightly. The drive home is only a few minutes, but Roman’s breathing calms enough to the point where he can rationalize texting. Janus, Logan, and Virgil all get a very simple text, but it’s enough to explain the situation.

‘Found him. We’re going home. He’ll call you in a bit.’

They pull into the driveway, shuffle into the house, take off their shoes. It seems weirdly unreal. It’s like Roman has entered some twilight zone where he and his brother get along. A twilight zone that Roman hopes to make a reality. Like he’s an upset kid again, he takes his brother’s hand and remains resolute in not crying again as he leads him through their empty house. The maid is there, she sees them pass. She doesn’t say a word. She watches the obviously upset twins make their way down the hall and into Roman’s room. Remus lets Roman take him by the shoulders and sit him on his bed. They stare at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

Roman takes the first step, “You scared me, Remus.”

Remus looks away, “I didn’t think you’d care, really…”

“Of course I’d care! Remus, I-I always cared! And I meant it when I said that I am truly sorry!” He’s crying again, and frankly, he feels a little stupid. 

“I kinda figured when you ran at me crying like a crazy person,” His brother picks up the end of his blanket and wipes his face with it, “You’re crying a lot today.”

“I’ve had a quite terrible afternoon, I think a little emotional distress is warranted.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, Remus smacks the blanket gently across his cheek. 

Remus ushers him in again, nudging his head against Roman’s stomach and wrapping arms around his back. Roman stands between Remus’ legs and holds his head like the precious thing it is. 

There’s a shudder of a breath from each of them. Both of them are so painfully aware of how long it’s been since the last time they sought out each other for comfort like this. There’s something so familiar in it. The warmth that Roman remembers from a childhood spent at each other’s sides. They used to be so close that they shared a bed by choice. He spent nights asleep and calm holding onto his brother. This feels like that. Something so personal and so old. Remus starts to cry again and it’s a messy sob that makes Roman’s ears ring. He squats down to look Remus in the eyes, taking his hands in his. 

“I didn’t mean it, Rem. I don’t think you’re a failure-I-” Remus cries harder, he does his best to wipe the tears with his fingers.

“You-You mean much more to me than I’m sure I've let on in recent years.” There’s a tenderness and honesty in Roman’s voice that feels good and right.

“Mother and Father have been driving me insane, pressuring me to say and do things that I frankly don’t believe in.” The feelings he’s sharing now are lightening something in Roman’s chest, and from the look on Remus’ face, his words are more than on the right track. 

“Not anymore. I promise to you that from now on I am going to do everything I can to make up for the terrible things I’ve done.” 

Remus smiles at him, teary-eyed and covered in snot. It’s not gross to Roman, not right now, because Remus looks better. 

“Can you start by getting me some water?” Remus’s hoarse voice coughs out, Roman is on his feet and goes to the kitchen as quickly as he can. 

With two glasses in hand, he hurries back. He stops at the door. Inside, he hears Remus talking. He’s on the phone with Janus, who sounds more than upset. He goes in, gives Remus the glass, and turns to leave for privacy reasons. His brother grabs at his wrist and tugs him back. He sits beside Remus and they drink their water. He keeps his mouth shut and listens to the ways in which other people love his brother. Janus is angrier than anything else. The heart-palpitating rant that ensues is wildly emotional. He talks about how much the incidents of this afternoon scared everyone, goes off on tangents about the risks of running off and not telling anyone, tells him with the most love in his voice that he was worried about him. Remus promises not to do it again, Janus only sighs in a loving way. Janus brings up his talk with Roman, emphasizes his support of both of them, and lets Remus be on his way. Virgil is next, and he’s quiet. The call is full of little silences, Virgil takes breaks between sentences. Stops mid-word to take a breath and keep his wits. He tells Remus that he scared him. Tells him that he cares about him, no matter what. That he loves him and wants the best for him. He doesn’t use those words exactly, but Roman reads between the lines. 

They’re fairly average calls considering the circumstances and their relationships. Roman sees Remus hesitate as his fingers ghost over the call button under Logan’s contact. He’s saved as “Boobear” with a blue and green heart. It’s by far the most normal of the names on his list. It’s by far the sweetest as well. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, and Remus gives him a shaky smile.

“I’m worried about what he’s going to hate me now or something,” 

It’s almost the stupidest thing Roman had ever heard. He might not get along great with Logan, but he’s not blind. The little nerd is wrapped tightly around Remus’ finger. He’s seen Remus hang off of Logan and say all kinds of crazy and vulgar things, only to get a small reprimand or occasionally an annoyed-but-loving smile. Remus can spout off in a rant about nothing in particular, only to have Logan hang onto every word and provide commentary and factual corrections. There is nothing in the world that could shake away the Logan Lark who was smiling and dancing in a field with his brother only a month ago. 

“With the way he looks at you,” Roman chuckles, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this made him love you more.”

Remus blushes furiously, and instead of dignifying Roman with a response, he hits the call button.

Logan picks up the second it goes through as if he was waiting by his phone for Remus to call him. The intense emotion in his voice makes the twins do a double-take. He’s normally so straight and narrow. Measured. Collected. There is an air to the typical Logan that has vanished now. Roman wonders why he couldn’t show this side on stage more often. 

“Remus? Please tell me this is you.”

To cover up his anxiousness, Remus flirts terribly, “Heya hot-stuff, what’re you wearing?”

There’s a relief filled laugh on the other side of the phone, “There’s my answer. Are you alright?”

“M-hm! You’ll never guess who made me feel better with a shit ton of groveling!” There’s an air to Remus’ voice that conveys humour.

“Remus.” Logan sounds so serious, Roman watches Remus sigh and roll his eyes at the care.

“Yeah, Logie. I’m okay. I mean it.”

Logan speaks again, that same serious voice, “I’ve been worried all afternoon.”

“Yeah...” 

It’s quiet for a second, there’s a tension of the unspoken affection the pair have for each other floating in the room. 

“I feel this is as good a time as any to tell you that I don’t think you’re a failure at all. You-I...In truth, I find you quite interesting to be around. You...You are...immensely talented in my humble opinion. I...While I understand we haven’t been friends for long- I hope it is not presumptuous to say that we are friends-But our relationship is...important to me. I enjoy your company and all you do for me. It...It is a true pleasure to be in your company, Remus. I-” 

Despite the blushing on Remus’ cheeks, he softly mutters “You’re ranting again, Lo-Lo.” 

“My apologies,” Logan nearly whispers out, there is affection seeping from his voice, “However, I meant everything I said.”

“I think you’re the shit too, babes. Sorry for worrying ‘ya.” There’s that affection again, Roman has never heard his brother sound so affectionate.

There’s another pause, Remus speaks again “I’ll make it up to you.”

“If you make a sex joke at a time like this-” Logan scolded, they could almost see his grimace.

“No, I mean it,” Remus laughs, “We can do something together. To make up for it.”

“I’d like that.”

Roman looks to his brother, the phone, and then his brother again. To him, it sounded as if Remus had just asked him out on a date, but he knew well enough that Remus and Logan were probably too dense to understand the implications.

“I’ll uh-I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later then, kay boobear?” Remus asks while staring at Roman, confused about the ‘oh-my-god-you-totally-like-him’ look he’s getting.

“Alright. Goodnight, Remus.” Logan’s voice drips honey and roses as he wishes him goodnight, there is so much Roman can hear wrapped up in that simple sentence and it’s a wonder to him.

“Goodnight.” 

The call ends and Remus lets out a dreamy sigh. 

Roman winds back and smacks Remus with a pillow in excited fervour. 

“You did not tell me you were that in love with Logan!” 

“Wha-You asshole!” Remus takes the pillow and smacks him back, “I am not in love with him!”

“Yeah right! That was the gayest conversation I’ve ever heard!” He nearly shouts, getting up and grabbing more pillows from the collection at the head of his bed.

“We didn’t even say anything juicy!” Teases Remus, grabbing pillows at lightning speed, preparing for what he knows is coming.

“It was in the tone! And don’t say juicy like that you dolt!” 

Remus hits Roman with a pillow to the face. With an excited cackle, Roman launches an attack, throwing as many of his numerous pillows at his brother as he can. There is an all-out war within seconds. Both boys are shrieking and laughing. By the end of the pillow fight, they’re breathless and more joyful than they have been all day.

“How do you feel about a sleepover?” 

Good. Remus feels very good about a sleepover. That night while laying in Roman’s dumb red sheets, cuddling up to his brother in the way that little kids do, he feels happy. Really happy. Genuinely happy. Logan had told him that it was hard to love somebody when they didn’t act as if they loved you back, and he was right. The smartass was always right. Now though, he felt it. His brother had cared, ran for him like he was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. He loves Roman. Apparently, Roman loves him too. His brother hugs him closer in his sleep. That’s more than enough for his brain to quiet tonight. 

Addendum; August 20th -

Remus went missing this afternoon. It worried me greatly, but he turned out alright. Things between the Grimm twins seem to be better. On August 21st, they arrived to practice bickering but holding hands. They both appeared near ecstatic all day, needless to say, it was tiring. There will be no more need for the “Roman Incidents” section of this notebook.

Circled in red pen, written largely at the bottom of the page, underlined three times over. 

Note: Investigate your true feelings for Remus Grimm.