#I kept most of the sketchiness because I preferred it

[lucentcosmos]

Late hopping on to this pose trend, but since I drew wagatha last year for the 2yrs since wandavision, they deserve another drawing for it being now 3 years 0.o

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers Trailer: Initial Observations (FirstKhao Edition)

I'd like to thank Jesus, Buddha, Santa, Thor, whatever holy BL spirits reside above, and all hail our lord and saviour P'Jojo. This exceeded my expectations of what was coming and then some. So here are my initial takeaways from the trailer that blew my head clean off.

General premise goes: By night, Fadel and Bison are assassins for hire, but they only kill who they deem are the 'bad guys' (most likely corrupt politicians, sketchy businessmen and the like). By day they run a seemingly ordinary restaurant. A cop asks tattoo artist Kant for his help is getting these two caught. He agrees on the basis that this will clear his criminal record. In order to keep Fadel distracted from his advances on Bison, Kant convinces his mechanic friend Style to woo him. I expect to see cat-and-mouse, games of deception type plot here which should be really good fun.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS: BISON

Aside from the fact that Bison kills for a living, he actually seems like a sweetheart. He comes across as the more jovial, friendly and optimistic of the two brothers. He has no hesitation in offering to make special accommodations for Kant's dietary preferences. He seems to fondly prod his brother to open up to people, and to allow 'sunshine' into his life.

Fadel says, "Because I'm selective, not easy like you". "In this line of work, don't trust people too easily", a signposted concern that his little brother may struggle on this front. Seems to make a point of warning him to use his head rather than his heart.

Bison also tells Kant that his trust once lost means the person is question may as well be dead to him. If he does tend to trust easily, any betrayal would be understandably much more hurtful in his eyes.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS: KANT

Kant's ulterior motive is what brings him to Bison in the first place. The two supposedly have a one night stand, which leads to Kant falling in love with him. Whilst both parties are hiding who they really are, and what they're really up to, Kant appears increasingly guilty and conflicted by this. "What if I'm not who you think I am. Would you hate me then?" But on the other hand his feelings of guilt go hand in hand with the knowledge that Bison's capture or downfall would be his ticket to get what he wants. A decision that has him trapped. He seems to question whether he should trust Bison and whether that will come back to bite him. "My brother always says, don't trust anyone too easily. Otherwise, you end up being the victim."

It also speaks volumes that a cop would approach Kant with this proposition. It means Kant is clearly very competent at what he does, and has side-hustled as a vigilante before. So Kant must be pretty cunning or smart. For example he appears to knock his knife off the table in the restaurant to test Bison's reflexes.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

There's definitely a connecting theme of secrecy. Their intimacy is kept in secret due to Bison claiming his brother will kill them both if he finds out. Bison is keeping his murderous activities a secret (for obvious reasons). Kant is keeping his investigative activities a secret.

We can obviously expect this to all come to a head when the truth is revealed and identities are fully out in the open. Can Kant accept Bison for what he does and his lifestyle, potentially forgoing the possibility of clearing his record, in order to protect him? Can Bison forgive Kant for hiding his true motives, and trust him again - at the risk of both himself and his brother?

There will be a clear point of convergence between these two, when Bison starts to consider changing his life, if it means staying in Kant's. This echoes how Kant wants to clear his criminal record, perhaps in an attempt to wipe his slate clean so he can finally move on from whatever life he led before. There's a shared vision of moving away from the lifestyles that are bad for us.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

STYLE / AESTHETICS: One thing P'Jojo knows how to do so well is create a distinct sense of style and atmosphere. This man is a pro at combining the right set design, styling, music and ambience to create a really identifiable flavour that is instantly recognisable. The music in this trailer is a friggin' BOP.

THE EFFING TATTOOS: I will say this till the end of time, but First as Yok was one of my favourite things ever. And seeing First with tattoos again just made me weak in the knees in all the best ways possible.

LEATHER GALORE: Khaotung in leather jackets. That's it. That's my observation. And I was staring. Very appreciatively may I add.

Also, the fact that Khao, who looks noticeably dinky next to the hulking giants of this cast is called Bison. BISON.

[kinopioa]

Noticing lately people that people are saying "Chris isn't bad, 4kids ruined him", then post this scene out of context

Where toddler Chris is lied to by his parents, and then he says "they never came for me, just kept buying presents"

Here's the problem, it's bullshit retconning

We have literal photographic evidence showing his parents being there for the early part of his adolescence early S1 in bgs (this is literally Ep 2!). This wasn't a goof, it had several pans focusing on it, and was common in other bg art in other eps

This bs statement also ignores later eps where his mom personally invites him and his friends to her work, his parents dropping everything when he gets sick, etc. His supposed emotional angsting is extremely trivialized throughout most of S1. His parents constantly check on him even at work, his extended family and servants are very involved with him, he actually has friends in a public school, it overall feels barely in check when he cries to Sonic in the end of S1's finale. Like, he says...

You ain't alone kid. I weirdly prefer 4Kids lines here- worse music aside- he's more accrediting Sonic's coolness by saying "he had so much fun" and "Sonic's the best friend he's had" rip Tails, Amy, Cream

But yeah, barely passing it. If it was a legit finale I'd be fine

S2's insistence on him being in the already iffy Adventure adaptations and later retconned angst aggravates me. He went from "mostly boring maybe spoiled" to "aggravatingly trauma faking spoiled brat" over the course of of season

But because of the out of context toddler sob clip being removed in dub, people think "oh no, 4Kids solely fucked him up"

No, it didn't. His basis was already fucked, S2 made it way worse then tried gaslighting. Congrats

Honestly him getting super attached to Sonic is weird. Sonic's pretty damn aloof and unaware of in house shenanigans that Amy, Tails, and Cream deal with. Like he's cool, but he's barely there. Honestly it'd be funny/genius when he starts recounting his memories and realizes how Sonic's other friends were more involved with him than Sonic, and then Chris realizes how much he takes people that are actually near him for granted

Overall I find him mediocre. If you hate his voice in dub and prefer OG it's whatever, but I absolutely can't say his existence or writing is good in sub.

Side note, saying Helen should be the protag is still a problem. As much as I like her, the justification of having Sonic and friend's lives revolve around her is still iffy. The reason Chris has a mansion and grandpa's lab is cuz it's the easiest way to not deal with "where will most of Sonic's friends stay" and "where can Tails park Sonic's plane, then his mechas?". Helen can't support that, so either

-Realize two worlds is stupid, and focus the series on Sonic and friends like what the pilot hinted, having him be nomadic and encountering new people every other ep. Helen and Chris can be episodic chars with their own dev

-Make Helen rich, which...ruins her overall struggles

Sonic X gets me... @semi-sketchy

[twstinginthewind]

I actually wonder what some of your ocs would think of Eiji, not knowing he is a serial killer because most people don't know but its rumored he is sketchy.

He may not have had much opportunity to meet with all of my OCs, but I can give some highlights from his fellow third-years!

His Octavinelle dormmate Lorne Ibsen is not the smartest merman in the sea. Although the pianist acknowledges Eiji is a hard worker and maintains good grades, Lorne never really felt any urge to get to know his classmate better, preferring to maintain a bit of a distance between them. He's a bit put off by Eiji's macabre jewelry tastes, and the look that Lorne got from him when he asked if he made any "happier" designs gave him the jibblies for a week.

Sweet Sia Sealponte often wonders how somebody who crafts such fine, intricate jewelry wasn't sorted into the Pomefiore dormitory. It can't be the boy's looks; he's striking enough, with those violet eyes and his intense gaze. Since she transferred in for her third year, Sia may not have heard the rumors that have been passed through NRC about Eiji over the past few semesters, and might find some of them frankly unbelievable. She may approach him for assistance if she ever decides to create designs with a more gothic/memento mori element to them, but how well the conversation goes may depend on whether he would be receptive to that sort of collaboration.

Jon Littlebear is a man who trusts his intuition, and likes to think he can get a good read on other people. He's been avoiding Eiji since their freshman orientation, and has been trying to make sure that his own friends keep their distance as well. He's never actually seen Eiji do anything wrong, but a bad feeling is a bad feeling, and Jon trusts his bad feelings. It's kept him out of trouble so far. He might make an exception in the case of a fight, though. If he needed someone really ruthless on his side, Jon would absolutely make a temporary alliance with him. But he'd also watch his back.

... and off-campus, bookstore owner Zayn Weatherwax has mixed feelings about his infrequent customer. Sure, the boy does buy an awful lot of very niche books he might not otherwise sell, and that's always a welcome treat. But that kid keeps looking at Zayn's hands in a way that makes him want to invest in a pair of heavy-duty gloves. Yes, he goes for manicures, he's proud of how nice his hands are. But the appraising look that Eiji gives them during his visits? Oof. Go take your anatomy manuals and horror novels and scoot, young man.

[mommyclaws]

Just some clan headcanons for my various rewrites to make them feel more diverse. I'll probably add on later but for now I've just listed some basic differences, preferences, and opinions for each clan:

Basic

-Shadowclan is the only clan that's actually nocturnal. They'll have a few warriors up during the day, but it's typically their half-clan/rogue cats that are awake. (Like Russetfur, Tawnypelt, or Dovewing.) I Imagine most- if not every- Shadowclan attack happens at night because of this. Always taking the other clans off guard.

-Windclan kept tunneling. Over the generations, they learned ways to make it safer and keep soil propped up with sticks and clay. The tunnels are their primary source of food in the winter.

-Riverclan decorates everything and anything. Their dens are dotted with shells. Their nests are lined with bright feathers. Flowers hang from roofs. Colorful stones line their camp. Everything is pretty.

-Skyclan lives in trees dammit. I REFUSE to take Thunderclan 2, Erin Hunter. These clans are going to be creative if you like it or not.

Opinions on outsiders

-Shadowclan is usually the most accepting of outsiders, even more than Thunderclan. They care more for numbers and genetic diversity more than anything else, so exiles, kittypets, and rogues are always welcome so long as they're willing to pull their weight. It's not uncommon for cats to join when trying to leave behind a sketchy past.

-Skyclan are descendant directly from kittypets and rogues. Outsiders are not a problem in the slightest.

-Thunderclan specifically used to be extremely hostile and prejudice to kittypets after Pinestar disappeared, but Firestar's leadership and his many kittypet descendants helped them to become more accepting.

-Windclan's acceptance of outsiders is near constantly fluctuating depending on the current leader. (Heatherstar was willing to invite rogues into her camp as friends. Tallstar was very relaxed with kittypets specifically becuase of Jake. Onestar's leadership shut this down immediately. To cover up his relationship with Smoke, he was pretty harshly against kittypets, rogues, and half-clans. Harestar is more kind because of his past, but isnt super accepting because he doesnt want to relive the mistake of trusting the wrong cats.)

Appreance Preferences

-Riverclan are very obsessed with their own beauty and image, so I image they're typically the least accepting clan. (This is relative to and changes with the leader, of course. Crookedstar's leadership was very kind, but it was clear during Leopardstar's lead that his time didnt really make an impact on their asshole behavior.) Outsiders might be welcome to join, but it's no doubt they have to put alot of work to truely be accepted.

-Bright fur (especially ginger) is considered attractive in Thunderclan. This trend was probably started by Thunderstar lmao. (Ex. Lionheart, Firestar, Squirrelflight, Lionblaze)

-Flat faces and fangs are considered attractive in Shadowclan ....You may hate the implications of Brokenstar being the hottest man in Shadowclan, but I refuse to change my mind. I said what I said.

-Riverclan finds silver and gray pelts attractive. (Ex: Rainflower, Silverstream, Stonefur)

-Windclan finds long tails attractive and short tails are cute.

General appearances

-Thunderclan cats are typically large and fluffy. Even short-furred cats have lots of undercoat. Thick tails are an iconic trait.

-Shadowclan cats are short and stocky. Flat faces used to be common. These traits aren't seen as often anymore though, because of all the outsiders who join and have kits.

-Tall Windclan cats are iconic, but I like how they're described in Squirrelflight's Hope. Windclan cats are small and it helps them to move faster. Their legs are long, but only relative to their small body sizes. Short tails aren't uncommon.

-Riverclan are plump and have thick, sleek coats. They're just as beautiful as they say they are. No competition for who's the most attractive clan.

-No specifics for Skyclan since they're all descendant from kittypets/rogues, but I always imagined they were cute in a dorky kind of way if that makes sense lmao. They're also tall.

View on scars

-Scars are common and valued in Shadowclan. They believe that scars make you strong, because you had a fight and survived it

-Opposite to Shadowclan, Thunderclan often find scars unsettling and bad luck, as TigerClaw's iconic feature was the scar across his snout.

-Riverclan are obsessed with beauty and image, so scars are typically kept hidden under thick fur. Cats like Crookedstar had a very hard time adjusting and growing up with such a harsh beauty standard.

-Windclan is pretty netrual on scars. Also they're usually more visible on Windclan cats because of their short fur.

[kittymsmithwritesstuff]

Which legends can draw

Okay for the record anything made by Horizon is very cute and in that weird liminal space where it isn't bad but it isn't good, almost Avant garde but with that touch of Mom™ that means if she does a little doodle on her kid's lunch bag they'll probably keep it.

Does that make sense? I don't care.

Anyway legends that can ACTUALLY draw.

Short answer: Bloodhound, Wattson, Bangalore, Rampart, Seer, Fuse, Valkyrie.

Long answer:

Bloodhound: Probably the best out of them all. Particularly good at animals, but has an almost eerie ability to capture people in pencil, almost a photograph without being photorealistic. With animals and people they have a knack for catching that one piece of movement that just makes them feel alive. This is because of many, many, many many hours spent alone in the wilderness, on hunts or other expeditions. They leave little notes by drawings of plants to record what is and isn't poisonous and have actually sent in some small sketches to help with identification of rare flora and fauna to scientific boards in Gaea. Most of their notes in their sketchbook are the little things they notice about people and animals, though.

Bangalore: Canonly she got like a B in art and I just see her super stylized. Not award winning, but bold. Uses really harsh, dark lines and is one of those people that instead of starting out with too many light tones starts out way too dark, but eventually develops a really interesting style similar to old-school comic books. Would draw for her little cousins but not really for her family members. Reflecting her style, her favorite thing was to draw comics even if she didn't read them much. She figured out she was gay when she realized she wasn't drawing naked women to "practice anatomy".

Wattson: This is also canon if you read the lore book, but spending a lot of time on her own with almost complete control of what she did with said time left Wattson to learn, well, whatever she wanted, and one of those things was how to draw. She got a couple tutorial books, looked it up on the internet, and developed a clean, methodical style. One of those people where she says something is a "sketch" and you kind of wanna punch hit her but she's too damn nice. She tends to draw on the "cutesy" side of things, looooves to draw chibi-like characters. Will often use drawings to cheer Wraith up in particular. (Wraith has kept every single one). She's not very good at drawing anything but people and clothing, and her cat, but she's trying to branch out.

Rampart: Yeah it's canon, I know. Street art to the core, main method is spray paint and it started because of all the cool tags and art she saw in Gaea growing up. When she started doing it herself instead of being mad about it, her parents made her promise not to get caught more than twice. They actually got her art lessons, too. They bored her to tears, but they were helpful. Anatomy always comes out a little wonky though. Did find out she liked acrylic so she will use that. Used to make a little side money doing window paintings for Christmas.

Seer: Art was a method of expression and stress relief for him. It's really out there, somewhere between Picasso and Dali most of the time, but he can do some really intense human figures-think Alexandre Cabanel or any intense emotional figures in art in the 19th century. It's mostly a therapy thing for him and a test of skill, so a lot of people don't know how good he is at it. Loba has one of his pieces on her ship.

Fuse: Got into drawing because it was an easy way to goof off during class without getting caught. Style lands somewhere between Bangalore and Bloodhound really-there's a lot of movement and life in what he draws, and he can whip it out real fast. Half drunk drawing on a napkin can be a very cool sketchy vibe, prefers urban landscapes and people and will typically add dialogue or titles he finds funny to his drawings. Maggie used to make fun of him for it, but when they got older she actually got him a sketch book one Christmas and he really went off with it. There's a very "homey" feeling to his drawings, and he's always happy to sketch something for a friend. Has never been shy about sharing his stuff. After Maggie died, Bloodhound told him to try keeping a journal to help process his thoughts, and it's turned into half journal half illustration of his day, feelings, thoughts, etc. Bloodhound is the only one that's ever seen inside that particular journal. Similarly, he's one of the only ones, besides Loba, that's seen their sketchbook.

Valkyrie: I can kinda see her into drawing, but strictly anime. Not because she's Japanese or anything but because she gives the vibe of some kids I knew in high school who were like, really good at art, but only anime art, and soon as they stepped out of that it was like anatomy had fallen with the Roman empire and everything just kind of looked off. This isn't meant to be a bad thing I just see her very, very specific and not one to branch out from that particular style or develop one of her own. Really good at stylized landscapes though, and is in fact overall very good at converting any person or thing into a sort of anime style (I don't know enough about the different ones to specify).

[thefanficmonster]

Lucky Me (Sequel To Unlucky)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You aren’t always born with luck. Sometimes, you meet people who bring it to you. In short, they are your lucky charm.

Requested: Yes, but not in a typical way. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who read, liked, reblogged and commented on part one - Unlucky.  

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  and many more ❤❤❤

They are the reason this story is being written. What was originally supposed to be an elaborate one-shot turned into the most liked piece I’ve ever written. I can’t thank you enough, guys. You are amazing and I hope you like this one just as much or even more than the previous. Love you ❤❤❤

Y/N’s POV

I’m grinning at my reflection in the mirror as I put on a pair of earrings. My face is already touched-up with a little make-up and my hair is looking on point. I can almost see my own reflection in the shine of excitement in my eyes. I take in my upper body via a quick once-over in the full body mirror opposite me, and I finally relax my muscles that I didn’t ever realize I was tensing.

“OK, now I’m ready.“ I say as a form of encouragement as I reach behind me for my phone that’s sitting on my bed.

You might be wondering where I’m going? Who I’m going with? What’s the occasion behind this many preparations and pampering?

The answer: Nowhere. No one. Nothing. I’m literally not even going to leave my house.

It might seem ridiculous to someone else, but to me, to my hypnotized mind, it’s perfectly reasonable to be getting so amped up over a FaceTime call. Yeah, you heard me correctly - a FaceTime call. 

Well, you see, this isn’t the first time we FaceTime, but it will be the first time we’ll see each other’s faces. I wanted to level the field so I didn’t let him on to what I look like, where exactly I live, etc. Basically, he only knows my name, which I am still prepared to call unfair, considering I don’t know his real name. 

A brief backstory to my first ever real interaction with Corpse: I was introduced to him by my friends. They are the ones I always turned to with all the scary shit happening in my life. Often times they didn’t know weather to comfort me or laugh at my curse. My friends suggested I start sharing it to a youtuber named Corpse Husband. You see, I love YouTube narrators and I’ve always been a fan of Mr. Nightmare and I, to be perfectly honest, always kept the idea of sending him my stories in the back of my mind. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and checked out on of this Corpse Husband guy’s videos. And then another. And another. And before I knew it I was having a marathon after which I was too paranoid to get online, walk home alone at night, leave my curtains open etc. It wasn’t all thanks to the stories themselves. A lot of the fear factor these stories strike with should be credited to the way they are read. Let me tell you, this guy had it all figured out with the reading. Not sending him my stories would just be wrong. So I did, I sent him my first ever creepy encounter which was with a stalker from my high school and it took me only two days to forget about it. It only crossed my mind when my friends blew my phone up, demanding I watched Corpse’s new video. I kid you not, I got more scared by the story when he read it than when I lived it. That’s what settled it for me - I decided to send him each and every story.

And then one day, out of the blue, my life changed for the better in more ways than one. It got turned completely upside down, like a rollercoaster, and I just had to hold on and enjoy the ride, embrace the adrenaline rush and excitement, knowing full well that I chose to get on and there’s no way I can get off halfway through. 

I’m being too metaphorical. He sent me an email. He freaking reached out to me. And I was posed with a rough choice. Took me a minute, but I chose to reply to him, I chose to trust him, and I couldn’t just leave him on read one day simply cause I chickened out. Yes, I’m unlucky and these things don’t happen to unlucky people. I mean, they do, but they are nightmares disguised as a dream come true. I’ve lived all my life cautiously: if something sounds too good to be true it’s either not as good as marketed or not true at all. If it’s dark and late and there are no people around, FaceTime someone. If your Uber driver’s sketchy, cancel the ride. I take all the precautions and I still find myself in the worst situations. Or at least...

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A simple ringtone I hear every time he calls me. A simple sound that causes me butterflies when I hear it and ultimate devastation if the caller ID doesn’t read the name I want. It always gets me excited, probably more than it should. This time is different, however. It’s scary almost. I’m nervous, anxious, scared, hesitant - all things I never feel when I’m about to answer his call. 

With shaky hands I pick up the call and find myself looking at the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Now I know why I would have never initiated this meeting, because I know what color my face is right now. I know my voice has let me down before I even attempt to speak. I know I look like a mess. I know my obvious crush is showing.

Corpse initiated this meeting. He said he was getting too curious and he wanted one of his best friends to see him and for him to finally see her. It’s been about seven months since we first started texting and I haven’t let out a single peep about it to a single soul. It’s just between him and I. We are each other’s safe space away from the rest of the world.

“Thought you weren’t gonna pick up for a second there.“ His voice is not as confident as other times when we’ve talked. His trying to hide his own nervousness and all I wanna do is hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to. I kept telling him over and over again that we don’t have to do this if he’s not sure that he actually wants it. I even offered to show him what I look like, not expecting to see him in return but he declined, saying it was now his turn to even the field.

“I was in another room.“ I manage to say, my voice only shaking a little.

We spend a few moments just looking at each other. Admiring one another. For someone who prefers digital interaction, I am surprised to realize I wish he was actually standing in front of. I wish I could hug him. A long hug of comfort, mutual understanding and hidden feelings.

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head which causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyepatch, “I’m sorry...It’s just-...Fuck I’m stumbling.” He chuckles nervously, “I just...can’t believe you are real. You are a real person. And the most beautiful person I’ve seen. That’s corny, isn’t it.” He looks away from the screen, his face now a shade of red. “But I mean it. I’m embracing my corniness. You are beautiful, Y/N. Not that I’m flexing or anything, but I’m lucky to have met you.”

I laugh, feeling my eyes stinging from the tears that have suddenly formed. I don’t want to let them fall, but I don’t have much say in that. “Well, mister Corpse, I can’t begin to compare. I mean...that hair! I still cannot believe it’s you. You are not just a deep voice in my mind. You are....you are...”

“Everything you imagined and more?“ he jokes, making my whole body heat up. “I told you you could trust. I mean, if the hair doesn’t confirm I’m who I say I am, I don’t know what will.”

“Actually, I never tried to imagine what you looked like. I knew those visions...I knew they didn’t matter. Faces don’t matter to us, Corpse. I think you realize that.“

And just like that, all I’ve been keeping hidden is pouring out. I don’t try to stop it - you can’t stop a hurricane with bare hands.

“I never needed a face to imagine us. I always saw as talking on the phone, playing Among Us. Reading scary stories to each other on Discord. I never needed a face to imagine your company. To imagine what we could be...“ I trail off, letting the first tear slip down my cheek.

The most sincere look appears in his eyes, “Fuck, I wish I could hold your hand right now. Never mind, I wish I could hug you, Y/N. Hug you and not let go for a long time.”

I laugh halfheartedly, my chest burning from the intensity of this moment’s intimacy, “I can always tell you where I live.” I’m only half-joking. I really want to see him in real life, not just through a screen, but even this call is out of his comfort zone, let alone a physical meet up.

He surprises me yet again, “Saturday. I’ll bring the take out, you pick the movie.” he says with a smile that is literally saying ‘you didn’t see that coming, did you?’

“How are you sure I don’t live in a different state, or a different continent all together?“ I tease, making an attempt to put my composure back together.

He smirks, “I pay way more attention to your stories than you’d think.” I laugh, shaking my head as a pointless method of fighting the pesky tears that he has 100% noticed by this point. “By the way, just because we’re....” he thinks for a second, “in a weird zone between friendship and...something more, doesn’t mean you have to stop sending me stories. I absolutely love reading them for my audience. They love em too.”

I just realized I am yet to tell him the crazy miracle that has happened. “Well, the thing is...I don’t have any.” His eyebrows shoot up in shock which makes me laugh, “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Since the day we started talking I have not experienced a single scary thing. Deadass. I swear on my life.”

If I wasn’t so head over heels for this man already, the baffled expression on his face would definitely send me falling for him. He’s just that adorable. “Wow.”

“I know right.“ I nod, “Seems to me you have enough luck to share with me.“

His eyes light up at that comment, showing just how meaning full it is to him.

“You’re my lucky charm, Corpse.“

“I will never be more proud of any other title, Y/N. That I can promise you with no hesitation.“

“Deadass?“

“Deadass.“

[accio-victuuri]

Hi can you provide the link to read manhuas you prefer?

Hello Anon! OMG Manhua/Manhwa Rec! Here we go! I’ve only been reading for 2-3 months (consistently), so this will be pretty limited. I will link to the legit sites. A google search will direct you to others.

Most of these are WIPs and some, sadly, are discontinued. I won’t add TGCF or MDZS here cause those are already a given. 👇🏼

• Body Electric by Dong Ye ( completed, supernatural, lots of trigger warnings and plotty )

Ba Song is the hotshot cop who’s been handed an open-and-shut case: the suicide of a young woman. Except… who commits suicide by stabbing their own body and strangling themself? There's only one man who can help him with this mystery — Bo Shan, the renowned forensic pathologist with a severe and cold personality. What's more, his body produces bioelectricity, allowing him to acutely sense bodily injury with his touch. There's an electric current between them, and each touch sizzles with energy

If you like crime dramas and stories where they solve mysterious cases then this is for you. The romance is subtle, and their relationship is not insta-love. strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers trope. This also discusses alot of issues the society has that will make you stop and think. Ba Song is really the honorable MC in here who always wants to help people and do good. While Bo Shan is the reluctant one but deep inside, he wants to make a difference too. I wish they would make a donghua or live action out of this.

• 30 year old by S-Monkey - ( ongoing, age difference, blind dates, slice of life)

Charlie Wei is a single and handsome executive. He’s also a closeted gay guy who’s been on way too many bad blind dates with women. Charlie’s still hung up on his ex-boyfriend James and is… gasp, 30! Charlie’s family thinks he’s straight and too old to be without a wife! During another bad blind date, Charlie meets the flirty Ethan, who both annoys and intrigues him. Can Charlie finally come out and find true love with Ethan or will he continue on his streak of bad blind dates?

The cover looks melodramatic but it’s really not. This is so funny! I read this because people were saying it reminded them of BoXiao. And yes, there are moments here that remind me of them, but it’s more like an AU of BoXiao. I stayed up late trying to get caught up in the chapters and you won’t realize it cause it’s just that good. I love seeing the older MC loosening up and being more of himself. and the younger one being more responsible in his career. They just become better versions of themselves because of each other. It’s so sweet!

• I ship me and my Rival - by Pepa ( ongoing, comedy, reads like a meta )

This follows the adventures of Wei Yanzi, a third-rate actor in the Chinese entertainment industry, stumbles onto a shipping fandom for himself and another actor (Gu Yiliang) while trying to escape from the flame wars and negativity. He's so taken with this group of fans who actually see him as a good guy instead of an enemy/rival of Gu Yiliang that he falls head-first into fandom and becomes actively involved in trying to provide shipping fuel and the fans' daily dose of fluff.

IF THERE IS ONE thing you will read here, let it be this. It is hilarious. If you are a CP fan you will relate so much and it’s a good time. It just shows how people who think are rivals can actually be really good friends in real life. What we see is not always what it seems. and people will interpret things based on their bias. The MC here is so dramatic! how his inner feelings/reactions were drawn will make you laugh.

• Path to You - by Sinran (completed, slice of life, age gap fluff and comedy )

When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them

The story is so soft. If you want something with mild angst/misunderstandings— then pick this. I love the progression of their relationship and how they take care of each other. There are other themes showed here other than the romance.

• Red Candy - by Hanse (completed season one with a cliffhanger, explicit scenes, assassins )

Shihyeon, aka “Red Candy,” is a secret agent whose code name comes from bathing in the blood of his marks on dangerous missions. Shihyeon’s tasked with seducing and obtaining intel from Hajun, a hot college professor. Shihyeon can disarm enemies, but didn’t expect to be disarmed himself by Hajun’s own tight body. Now Shihyeon’s caught between loyalty to his spy agency and Hajun. Can Red Candy survive the incoming wave of enemies and still indulge in the sweet ecstasy of Hajun’s embrace?

THIS STRESSED ME OUT MAAAN. Wow. I loved this. That season one cliffhanger. It’s definitely up there as my favorite. If you think about it, the tropes are really not original. An assassin is sent to shadow a person and they develop a relationship. That simple. But NOOOOO! There are so many things going on. The Main mystery plot, Their relationship, their shared past plus you have other sketchy secondary characters. And did i mention explicit scenes? Lots of them. I want this two to have a happy ending!!!

• Lone Swan - by Chu Man (discontinued, cultivation, star crossed lovers)

After losing his memory, Yiqiu Shen, a disciple from the decent sect meets a very special man named Luofeng Yan, who is the leader of the evil Divine Wind Cult. When escaping and conflicting with Yan, Shen gradually finds his original self as well as his previous love back. Together they rip off the facade of the martial world and reveal the hidden true

I didn’t want to add a discontinued story here, with no novel as a source material but this one made an impact on me. so. yeah. THE ART. breathtaking. The plot = layered. There are times I don’t even know who is telling the truth. It had so much potential and i hope it will get picked up again at some point. People rec this to those who enjoyed TGCF and MDZS, and they are right. ��🏼

• Dragon in Distress by Si Wang Wen Hua - ( ongoing, dragons, past life, lost power, fantasy )

This is a story about a little Eastern green dragon and a little Western black dragon playing together.

The synopsis is pretty simple if you look at it but this one is pretty interesting. and surprisingly funny. tinie AoAo is so cute! 🤍 the other MC has tsundere tendencies tho. Lots of lore and more truths to uncover as the story progresses. I’m not giving it enough justice with how i’m reccing it, but if you like dragons and fantasy — give this a go.

• Breaking through the clouds 2: Swallow the Sea - Huaishang (ongoing, based on a novel, crime, drama, cases)

Wu Yu, a newcomer of the Public Security Bureau, is gentle and frail. He doesn’t care about the difficulties posed by Bu ZhongHua, his strict boss, and only wants to stay in the background to be paid on time with enough for food. However, no one knows that this young man’s head is targeted by top drug traffickers for a large bounty or that this courageous young man has once slaughtered the dragon of the abyss. With a chain of interlocking cases, a series of troubles come one after another. Can the two people work together to survive through the difficulties?

Do you see a pattern with me? lol. I like crime themes. This one is the same and by the looks of it, the cases they solve will take longer to unravel. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on yet so i’m just going with how the manhua is progressing. I like it when Wu Yu turns full on action-mode and when ZH takes care of him. Plus it helps that they are both gorgeous. I’ll get back this with a proper link.

• Where the Wind Stays - by Yusa (completed season one, curses, demons, possession, timeskip, explicit scenes)

To break an ancient curse that plagues the royal bloodline, young Prince Tasara is destined to be sacrificed in death. Nara is enlisted as a palace servant to carry out the prince’s execution when the time comes. But he develops a soft spot for the cursed prince, and after committing an atrocious and unforgivable act against Tasara, Nara is desperate to right his wrongs. Soon, their lascivious relationship that had been kept under wraps tests his resolve. Will Nara be tempted away from his original mission? There’s no telling how far he would go to earn Tasara’s forgiveness.

This story broke my brain, in a good way. I don’t wanna say much cause it will spoil the story. It’s the type that you gave to see and suffer through yourself. I am excited for what happens in season II!!!

Honorable Mentions:

I’m placing these here cause I have only read a few chapters and tho I liked them, I wanna read more before reccing it in full. 👍🏼

• I accidentally saved the Jinghu’s enemy

• Global Examination

• Monster entertainment

• Demon Apartment

And that’s it! Hope enjoy Anon! 😊

[chaoticminhos]

coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart

--”It was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.”

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: death, guns, chan’s kind of an asshole

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this is the longest shit i’ve written to date n i’m kinda super really proud of it, also sorry for the total fall out boy move i pulled with the title hhh i just like it a lots

you let out a content sigh as your boyfriend trailed his lips along your neck, biting down lightly and sucking on a sweet spot he knew by heart by now. he pulled away and admired his work before capturing your lips with his, pressing your hips down against his growing bulge and making an attempt to deepen the kiss. you pulled away from him with a giggle.

“hyunjin, i really have to go. i promised my dad i’d be up early to help him with some work stuff tomorrow.”

he pouted, “what do you even have to do? why can’t he do it himself?”

you laughed at your boyfriends clingy behavior, “i’m supposed to talk to some girls he’s considering hiring. says i’m less threatening than a tall, scary-looking old man.”

“what’s he hiring for?”

you sighed, he always did this. whenever the topic of your fathers business came up, he could never let it go.

“hyunjin.”

“what?” he tossed a hand in the air, keeping the other delicately on your waist, “is it so bad that i’m curious what my girlfriend does for a living?”

you sighed as he continued.

“i mean, we’ve been together for months and i still know basically nothing about your family business,” he let out a small laugh, “i’m starting to think it’s something illegal.”

you scoffed, smiling down at your boyfriend.

“baby, it’s not illegal, it’s just... private.”

“sounds pretty sketchy to me.”

you brought your lips to his again, smiling against them as you lifted yourself off of his lap with a giggle. he reached out to you with a pout on his face as you distanced yourself from him.

“baby, no, stay a little longer.”

you laughed, tossing your phone into your bag with the rest of your things and putting on your shoes.

“i would if i could, jinnie.”

the pout remained on his lips until you made your way back to him and gave him a last kiss before leaving for the night.

“i love you.”

“love you too.” he smiled up at you from his position on the couch. 

the smile left his features the second the door shut behind you, sinking deeper into his couch with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, and pulling out his phone to dial his bosses number to give his daily update.

it was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.

the phone rang a couple times before it was picked up, his bosses voice on the other end.

“anything new?”

“no, chan.” he ran a hand across his face, “same as the last five months. she still won’t tell me anything.” he sat up, “and she’s never going to. can’t we just accept that this mission failed and find another way to compromise the park mafia?”

“she’ll crack or slip up eventually, hyunjin. she loves you.”

hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh before ending the call, “who doesn’t?”

he gathered his own things and stepped outside of the apartment, locking the door behind him. although his gang owned the place and he could stay there if he wanted to, he much rather preferred the mansion with the 8 other boys. they’d only bought this small apartment for the sake of his current mission, you’d obviously know something was up if he took you to a huge mansion. 

no, to you, he lived in a small, mediocre apartment that had a creaky floor and annoying neighbors. to you, he worked as a teachers assistant for the college the both of you were attending and that’s how he got his money. 

it was partially true, he did attend the same university as you. you were a freshman and he was in his sophomore year. he didn’t work as a teachers assistant, though. chan provided all the money he needed to keep afloat so he had no reason to work a regular job. to be fair, dating you was kind of like his job. 

he was majoring in business, just like you were. that’s how he made himself present in your life, sharing so many classes with you.

a few weeks into the first semester of your freshman year you ran into someone while on your way to class, bumping right into the chest of one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. you later learned his name to be hwang hyunjin.

“oh, i’m sorry!” you squeaked before looking up to see who you’d accidentally crashed into. 

“it’s okay, that was totally my fault.” he reached his hand out to you with a big smile, “i’m hyunjin.”

you hesitantly took his hand, face flushing as your skin came into contact with his, “y/n.”

“where are you headed, y/n?”

“i have a business lecture soon.” 

“really? so do i! let’s walk together.”

you awkwardly agreed. there wasn’t any way for you to get out of it, not that you really wanted to. despite your shy behavior at first, he kept a good conversation going as he walked you to class. you told him that you were majoring in business to help out with your family business and he told you that the only thing that stressed him out more than classes was his dog.

he offered a small wave when you two split as you entered the classroom.

you sat in your usual spot and glanced to see where he was seated. how had you never noticed him before? sure, the class was huge and there were a bunch of people but you were sure you would have noticed someone like him before. now that you had noticed him, though, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

you recognized some of the boys he sat with. jeongin was a freshman just like you, so you had met him during the freshman introductory meetings and all the ‘student bonding’ activities the school made freshman go to. you knew jisung as well, he was in your biology class. you’d even been paired with him for a project at the way start of the year. he was a good partner, even though he complained the whole time about being one of the only sophomores in a class full of freshman. it was okay though, because he stated that you were an okay freshman.

as you continued to scan his friends for anyone you knew, you noticed him looking in your direction as well. his eyes caught yours and you turned your head quickly, face flushing red as you turned to the front. 

you spent the whole class thing of and sneaking glances at the pretty boy you’d bumped into earlier that day.

hyunjin had asked for your phone number that day after class was over, stating with a red face that he was going to ask you before but he got too scared. from then on, the two of you texted constantly and it wasn’t long before he asked you on a date. you obviously said yes. 

you quickly learned that he was so much more than a just pretty face. he told you more about his dog and how much he loved animals, his eyes lighting up whenever you asked how kkami was doing. he talked so fast when he was speaking of something he really cared about, tripping over his words and apologizing every other sentence for it. he’d gotten over that by now, he stopped apologizing when you told him you thought it was cute. 

he told you about his friends and even introduced you to them. the first time you met them was at his small apartment and you were amazed that you and all 9 of the boys could fit in there. jisung recognized you from class and even remembered your name, which surprised you. you didn’t think of yourself as very memorable. he said someone as pretty as you was very memorable. hyunjin said jisung wasn’t allowed to talk anymore if all he was going to do was flirt with you and you laughed because as much as you enjoyed his friends already, no one could take you away from him.

about a month into the relationship, you had become close with all of the boys. you spent most of your time with hyunjin, but you no longer felt awkward with the other boys around and you weren’t embarrassed by their teasing about you and hyunjin anymore. you learned that most of them were also focusing on business. the only ones who weren’t were jeongin and seungmin, who were in computer programming,

you thought it was odd at first that so many of them were in business. your father always told you to be careful around groups of friends that all majored in business, but many of them had family businesses to take over or help with, just like you. you figured their family ran different sorts of businesses than yours did, but a business is a business no matter how big or legal.

despite your dad not trusting your business major boyfriend or his friends, you came to trust them all very quickly. especially hyunjin.

even after just a month and a half of dating, you knew you loved him. you called him the night you realized it and told him. you figured there was no point in waiting, you had these feelings and you weren’t sorry for it. you could practically hear his smile through the phone as he told you he loved you too. 

when you told your dad you loved him, he told you to break up with him. 

“i don’t trust them,” he said, “they’re probably a gang.”

“they’re not a gang, dad. not every kid majoring in business is doing it to help their father run an illegal business like i am.”

illegal. 

sometimes the word illegal made your stomach feel weird. sure, you knew your dads business wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t anything terrible either. it’s not like you assisted with sex trafficking girls or blowing up buildings with bombs. your dad assured you that nothing you assisted with was ever to hurt anyone or cause anyone danger. you just laundered money. and it wasn’t like you were the ones selling the drugs, you just cleaned the money made from others selling the drugs. it’s different. and you believed him. after all, your dad was a good man. he’d gotten involved with some sketchy men and now your family was roped into illegal activities, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone and he was just doing what was best for your family and following orders from his boss. he owned his company, but he still worked for someone else. so even if there was anything strongly against your morals, it wouldn’t be like you had a choice. 

he explained it to you as a partnership of sorts. they got the money, you weren’t 100% sure how, but selling drugs or theft of various kinds was most likely, and all your family did was clean up the money. 

but even then, you knew what you did was very, very illegal. just because you were following orders doesn’t mean you couldn’t get charged. you had to keep everything you did quiet and you couldn’t talk to anyone but your own family about it. your dad made it clear what could happen if anything about it got out. lots and lots of legal action, or, if you somehow managed to evade the police, being killed by his superiors for messing up.

so to everyone other than your mom and dad, you were just a rich family who liked to invest in places and own buildings. it made a lot of money and it gave you means to launder the money through. you would figure out ways to slip the dirty money into transactions and make it legitimate and able to use.

it was hard keeping it from hyunjin, you didn’t like lying to him. okay well, technically you didn’t have to lie too much, but you had to keep a lot of the truth away from him. sometimes you wished you could talk to him about things, this type of work gets pretty stressful and there’s some stuff you don’t really want to talk to your parents about. plus, whenever you voiced your anxiety revolving around the business and being involved in it you got the same lecture about it being nothing to worry about so long as you keep your mouth shut about it all and don’t mess up.

you couldn’t talk about it much, but hyunjin asked about your work a lot. you knew it was just because it’s kind of weird when your significant other doesn’t really talk about their job. he understood that it was private though. you told him you handled a lot of the financials for things and that stuff was best kept to just employees. again, it wasn’t really a lie! you did handle a lot of money and financials. maybe you should have taken more than the base level economics classes in high school. 

you thought nothing of his curiosity, you’d be curious if he didn’t talk much about his job, either. he made a lot of jokes about you being a secret spy and things like that which made you laugh. he made jokes about you being involved with illegal things, too, but you knew he was joking. he didn’t know, there would be no way for him to know, so you always blew it off and joked back.

but he did know. him and the rest of the boys, they knew as much as there was to know about your family business. they knew who your father was and they knew what type of business he ran. in fact, they knew more about the type of industry your father ran than you did yourself. you were under the impression that the family business consisted of cleaning dirty money, but that was just the start of what your father ran.

he was the head of one of the most dangerous korean mafias, the largest one known for sex trafficking in the country. stray kids focused their attention on bringing down people like your father. sure, they had to pull some legal strings of their own to accomplish their goals, but it was for the benefit of others in the long run. plus, they didn’t hurt innocents. not any more than they had to, at least. 

you, however, were not innocent. most of the boys, hyunjin included, had given up on the idea of you knowing much about your fathers business. they thought you genuinely didn’t know anything bad was happening, but chan was convinced it was an act. no one could be as involved in a business as you were and not know specifics about it. no, you knew what your father ran, he was sure of it.

hyunjin turned the doorknob to the mansion and stepped inside, locking it behind him. he was probably the last home, and if he wasn’t, everyone had a key. 

he carried his things to his room before heading back down the stairs and into the living room where all 8 of his friends were sitting and chatting.

he plopped himself down in an empty spot beside felix on the couch, immediately addressing chan.

“it’s a waste of my time, dude. she doesn’t know anything.”

hyunjin watched as chans jaw clenched. he did not want to be having this argument again.

“she does, hyunjin.”

“i don’t think she does, hyung. and even if she did, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anything out of her.” jisung spoke up.

“she’ll slip up, jisung.”

it was hyunjins turn to speak again, “it’s been over five months and she hasn’t shown any sign of knowing anything about what her father does. i think she really thinks it’s just a normal business.”

“if she thought it was a normal business why would she be so secretive about it?” chan challenged.

hyunjin shrugged, “lots of completely legal things need to be kept secret.”

“you just want to be able to break up with her so you can whore around campus again.” felix teased, causing hyunjin to send a glare in his direction.

“she thinks she’s my girlfriend felix, i have no problem getting my dick wet.”

“even with your dick in her you can’t get any more information out of her in nearly six months than jisung did during a two week bio project.” 

“why are you complaining, jinnie? i’d be all over her if i didn’t know who her father was.” minho chimed in, also earning a glare from hyunjin.

“shut the fuck up.”

“you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

chan cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, turning to address hyunjin again.

“give it until the six month mark. if she still hadn’t cracked or slipped by then, we’ll find another way.”

hyunjin scoffed, “what, send another one of us on a useless goose chase to try to get information out of her she doesn’t even have?”

“hyunjin, i get that you’re frustrated and six months is a long time to pretend you love someone, but-“ 

he didn’t quite catch the rest of what his leader said, his mind pausing for a moment at those words.

“pretend to love someone.”

he wasn’t given time to analyze why those words made something inside of him churn before chan was snapping his fingers in front of his face to gain his attention back.

“are you good, jinnie?”

“yeah,” he sighed, brushing off his brief moment of discomfort, “just exhausted.”

“it’s hard work, man. you’re a good actor. she really thinks you’re head over heels for her.”

a laugh fell from his lips, “where’s my fucking emmy?”

three weeks.

 just three more weeks and then he could end things with you. three more weeks until he could stop going to that shitty apartment every day after his classes and instead just head straight home to the mansion. god, it’s been forever since he was able to go home before sundown. he always had to stay at the apartment until late at night on the chance that you’d want to see him or come over.

three weeks he reminded himself as he got up to address the knocking at the apartment door. he greeted you with a smile and wide arms.

“hey, baby.”

you snuggled into his chest, “i missed you.”

“you literally saw me last night, you crybaby.”

you pouted up at him, “it’s been almost 24 hours! that’s way too long!”

he laughed before placing a kiss to your nose, lightly holding your arm and leading you to his living room. 

“i already picked a movie, but you can choose a different one if you want.”

you glanced at the screen and pretended to think for a moment, he knew you could never say no to this movie, it was one of your favorite.

“i guess this one will do.”

he chuckled as he made himself one with the couch, opening his arms to welcome you into them while the movie started. he pulled a blanket up over the two of you and secured his arms around you, making sure you were comfortable before focusing his attention on the movie.

about halfway through the film, your witty comments and replies to your boyfriend stopped and were replaced with tiny snores. feeling tired himself, he shut the movie off and reached for his phone to let chan know he would be staying at the apartment tonight. he couldn’t leave you here alone, a real boyfriend wouldn’t do that. he carefully shifted your bodies so you were both laying down and you started to stir, a small groan of annoyance passing your lips.

“shh, baby, go back to sleep.”

you complied, immediately falling back into slumber. as he secured his arms around you once again and you buried your face in his chest in your sleep, he couldn’t help but to smile. 

you looked so cute when you were asleep. how did you manage it? you weren’t even doing anything, but you made a funny feeling pool in his stomach. without much thought, hyunjin placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“goodnight, baby.”

two weeks.

 well, technically it was a week and 6 days. that’s how much longer he had to keep the ruse up. but that countdown was far from his mind.

he was in your apartment this time, and the second you opened the door for him, he had it slammed shut with your back pressed against it. you let out a surprised noise as his lips crashed to yours, but you made no effort to stop it. it was messy, full of teeth, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

you were finally able to speak when he pulled away and started trailing kisses down your neck.

“hyunjin, what’s gotten into you?”

“just,” he spoke between kisses, “had a long day.”

he had multiple tests and he was sure he bombed most, if not all, of them. he was angry and frustrated and he needed to calm down. the first thing that came to his mind whenever he needed to destress was the same as always— you.

you let him pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his body as he carried you to your bedroom, lips never leaving your own. he’d been here so many times that he knew where he was going without having to look.

he laid you with your back to the mattress and wasted no time ridding the both of you of clothes. 

he brought his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking. you moaned at the feeling, he knew just what you liked and he delivered every single time he took you to bed.

you whined when he removed himself from your breast, the cold air hitting your wet nipple. he traced sloppy, wet kisses down your stomach and across your thighs, stopping before he could reach where you wanted him most.

you would have whined, but you were cut off by his finger suddenly entering you and his lips attaching to your core. he pumped his finger in and out of you slowly before adding another, and then another until you were moaning out that you were close. he pulled away, earning an annoyed huff from your mouth. you’d expected it though, he loved to tease you.

it wasn’t long before he was bottoming out and pounding into you so hard that you almost felt sorry for your neighbors for having to hear the bed squeak like it was.

“baby,” you panted out, “i’m close.”

he took that as his sign to bring his thumb to your core, paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves. he could tell by the way that you clenched around him and moaned his name that you were coming undone. 

he snapped his eyes to your face, eyes screwed shut and bottom lip pulled between your teeth. god, you looked absolutely gorgeous like this. the sight of you in such deep pleasure threw him over the edge, giving a few last thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking himself through his orgasm as he spilled onto your stomach. he rode out his high before leaning down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. he took up, admiring the way you looked, all fucked out with his seed covering your stomach. there it was, that feeling in his stomach again, almost like lightning bugs were coming alive inside of his tummy.

he grabbed a washcloth and cleaned himself off before wiping you clean as well and then helping you to the bathroom. he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to get you a glass of something to drink and a snack. 

you were already back on the bed when he returned and he frowned.

“baby, i could have helped you back.”

you laughed, “it’s okay, my legs aren’t too sore.”

he raised an eyebrow teasingly, “oh, is that so? do i need to work harder next time?”

you laughed again, taking a hold of his arm and pulling him down to lay beside you. he kissed you lightly, reaching to the floor to hand you the t-shirt he had been wearing before for you to put on. you slipped it over your shoulders, loving that it smelled like him.

he smiled, you always looked so cute and small in his clothes.

he made sure you drank some water and ate a little before allowing you to bury your face in his chest and fall asleep. he sent a message to chan yet again that he wouldn’t be coming home that night. in fact, he’d barely slept at the mansion in the past week, spending most of his nights either here or at his ‘apartment’ with you. 

one week.

one more week was supposed to be how much time left hyunjin had with you, but that all came crashing and burning as you stared blankly at his lit up phone screen. he stepped out of his bathroom with a towel around his waist and was met with your confused and hurt eyes.

“hyunjin.” you started, “what the fuck is this?”

you frowned, coming closer to see what you were talking about. there, on the screen of his phone, was a text message from chan.

“she’s not going to break within the next week. bring her to the mansion, i have a plan.”

his eyes widened and he snatched the phone from your hands, quickly dialing chans number and holding the phone to his ear as he used his other arm to try to secure you from running out. he quickly gave up, putting the phone on speaker and tossing it aside and using his full strength to pin you down.

“hello?” chans voice rang from the phone. no response.

“hyunjin, what’s going on?”

raising his voice above your cries, hyunjin spoke.

“chan,  get to the apartment now! she knows.”

it didn’t take long for chan and the rest of the boys to arrive, the mansion wasn’t that far away and it’s not like they were obeying any speeding laws.

it was surprisingly easy for hyunjin to keep you contained while they were on their way. after a few minutes, you stopped struggling against him. there was a look in your eyes that made him feel like throwing up and he almost wished you would keep fighting against him so he wouldn’t have to see it. 

you didn’t struggle as they lead you to a car and shoved you in the backseat, either. you knew you were no match for 9 guys. plus, what were they going to do, torture you? nothing could hurt you more than the aching in the pit of your stomach at that moment. hyunjin didn’t love you. 

they didn’t bother to cover your eyes on the car ride or to shield you from seeing their home. great. that meant it didn’t matter what you saw. they were probably going to kill you. you choked down a sob as the idea of hyunjin holding a gun to your head. 

they brought you into a room with a cement floor and cement walls and you scoffed lightly, they must do this often, you thought, to have a whole room for it. there was even a big, deep brown stain covering a part of the floor, showing that they’d brought people to and disposed of people in that very room before.

you didn’t fight as they brought your hands to a set of chained cuffs that were connected to the wall. there was about four feel of chain, giving you a small area to move around. you tugged lightly as they secured the cuffs around your wrists, there was no getting out of them. not that it mattered.

even if you did manage to escape that room somehow, it was no use. you didn’t know the layout of the building. sure, you knew that they’d brought you down a flight of stairs and you’d made a right turn somewhere or another, but you hadn’t been paying attention.

you only moved to acknowledge them when they all crowded into the small room, watching you like they expected something from you. you felt tears roll down your face as you observed the people you called your friends and the boy you were in love with mutter amongst themselves about what to say first.

“what am i doing here?”

chan was the one to respond and you caught on pretty quick that he was the leader of whatever they had.

“you tell me, y/n.”

you leaned your back against the hard wall and slid down until you were in a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest.

“is this about my dad?” you began and chan raised his eyebrows as if to say i told you so to the others, “did we cut you short? i’m sorry, we had a rough month last month and-“

changbin cut you off, “cut us short?”

you nodded, “not clean enough? i swear we’ll make it back, pay you double what we missed-“

“what are you talking about?”

you frowned, “isn’t that what this is about? we- we launder for you, right?”

chan crouched down so he was eye level with you, “we don’t give a shit about money laundering, y/n. we’re concerned with the human trafficking and selling young girls and boys like they’re cattle.”

your eyes went wide, “we don’t-“

hyunjin scoffed, “y/n, why do you really think your dad puts out ads for young interns so often? where do they all go?”

you looked at him. his tone was so, so cold, but you swore you saw something akin to pain in his dark eyes.

“he has you screen all those girls for jobs, but do you ever see them at work?”

you shook your head.

“but you already knew that they weren’t getting jobs, didn’t you?” chan questioned.

you processed their words and the more you thought of it the more it made sense. why else would he have you interview so many people when you couldn’t think of anywhere they would be put to work? no, there had to be an explanation. your dad would never do that. your mom would never okay it.

your eyes locked with chans and something inside of you broke, he really thought you were involved with human trafficking. he thought you were capable of conning people your age into trusting you and then giving them to creepy old men to buy and use like toys. his eyes showed no sign of doubting himself on it.

you broke down, burying your face in your hands and curling up into yourself, trying to disappear. how could he think that of you? is this what they all thought? what hyunjin thought?

chan scoffed and stood as he was about to say something else, but jisung interrupted in a hesitant and soft tone.

“hyung, i really don’t think she knew.”

chan looked at him before looking back at your distressed state, desperately trying to catch your breath and stop the tears. you didn’t want to look so pathetic in front of them.

“we can talk more later. she’s no use right now.”

he turned to leave the room and everyone followed him out, save hyunjin. he lingered, waiting until everyone else was out before pulling the door shut and crouching down next to you.

he reached a hand to smooth down your hair but you recoiled from his touch. he seemed shocked at your reaction but regained composure so quickly you weren’t even sure if what you saw was surprise.

was he really still going to act like he cared? the tears staining your cheeks weren’t given a chance to dry as more fell over them.

despite your attempt to hide how badly you were breaking, your voice shook with every word you said.

“why, hyunjin?”

he stood and shrugged, his caring personality from moments before long gone. you guessed you had imagined it after all. 

“it’s just work.”

“you-“ your voice broke, “you never loved me! you let me think you loved me.”

he just stared at you. you couldn’t tell what was worse, when he pretended to care or moments like that where it was obvious he never did.

“you let me fall in love with you, hyunjin!” you were yelling by now, “i trusted you! i let you take my virginity and i-“ you choked down a sob, “i loved you so much.” you raised your eyes to meet his, “it meant nothing to you? you didn’t feel anything? all the times you said you loved me and all the times you made love to me, you felt nothing?”

if there was any flicker of guilt or pain he felt at your words, he did a hell of a job hiding it.

“nope.” he shrugged, speaking with a dry tone, “having something to put my dick in was just a perk of the job.”

you didn’t say anything else, you just watched him leave in silence, letting yourself sink completely to the floor as the door shut behind him.

you couldn’t see it, but in the hallway just outside the door, hyunjin pressed the back of his head against the wall as he brought his hands to his face, desperately trying to shake the aching feeling from his heart.

to say you were surprised when they actually brought you breakfast the next morning would be an understatement. you expected cruel, harsh punishments until you confessed to things you didn’t even know. 

instead, you got a neat plate containing pancakes, eggs, and some bacon, all delivered by the youngest of the group, the only one that was a freshman with you.

you hesitantly accepted, chuckling softly at the plastic cutlery. 

“thanks, jeongin.”

he fidgeted nervously, “no problem, noona. hyunjin said you liked this kind of stuff for breakfast so-“

he stopped speaking mid sentence  when your eyes snapped up from the plate to him at the mention of your boyfriends name. 

was he even your boyfriend anymore? ex boyfriend?

“did he make these?” you gestured to the pancakes. jeongin nodded, and suddenly the food didn’t seem as appealing as it had when he first brought it. 

you managed to choke down most of the meal, but not even a whole bottle of maple syrup could cover up the bitter taste the food left in your mouth. you thought back to all the other times he’d made you breakfast like this. 

the morning after you let him take your virginity came to your mind. he’d woken you up with a gentle kiss and gave you breakfast in bed. he ate with you and told you how much he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you. the memory used to be one of your favorites, now it just made you want to throw up the pancakes you’d forced down your throat earlier.

jeongin stayed with you until you told him you were done eating and you were surprisingly sad to see him leave, shutting the door behind him when he left and leaving you alone in the cold room again.

jeongin brought you all of your meals. he brought you lunch and dinner that day. he sat with you the whole time you ate those, too. he always seemed like he wanted to say something to you but was hesitant to. he seemed to genuinely feel bad for doing this to you. 

jeongin was the only person you’d seen all day until a few hours after dinner, you couldn’t tell the time, the nine of them squished into your cell again, just like the day before. you were mentally preparing yourself for another emotional draining.

you flinched when felix took a step towards you, reaching his hands to yours. he assured you he didn’t want to hurt you, saying that jeongin mentioned he’d noticed you needed patching up. he examined your wrists, all bruised and cut up from struggling against the cuffs. it’s funny, you hadn’t even realized your injuries. hell, you hadn’t realized you were struggling enough to cause yourself injury. 

he pushed the cuffs away from the major cuts and bruises before taking an alcohol wipe to them. you hissed when it came in contact with your cuts, wincing at the way the cloth turned red so quickly.

he wrapped small bandages around both of your wrists, both to keep the old cuts from opening and to prevent new ones.

felix offered a small smile as he finished up and joined the rest of the boys on the other side of the room. 

the gentle moment was short lived.

“anything new to tell us since yesterday, y/n?”

your eyes fell on the source of the voice, none other than chan. you let out a sad laugh.

“it seems like you’re the ones enlightening me.”

he lurched forward, grabbing the chain of the cuffs and pulling you close to him so your faces were only inches apart. you winced at the harsh movement against your wrists.

“you think this is funny?”

you didn’t respond, so he tugged the chain again, earning another small cry from you. this was not the chan you knew and it terrified you.

“hyung-“ jeongin began, only to be cut off by a glare from chan.

“no.”

another small tug, what a fucking sadist.

“no, i swear, i don’t know anything. okay? i swear.”

he stared into your eyes for longer than you were comfortable with before releasing his grip on the cuffs, letting your hands drop.

without saying anything more, he left the room. the others went to follow him out, but were stopped by your small voice.

“jeongin?”

he turned, making his way to you. you lifted up your wrists, showing the bandages completely bled through. chan tugging on them must have irritated them. hyunjin lingered at the door and watched the way you let jeongin move your hand around to look at it so comfortably, so different from how you’d cowered away from him the day before.

it frustrated him, seeing you trusting jeongin like that. it should be him, right? you don’t even know jeongin that well, but you’d know him for months. he couldn’t blame you, though. why would you still trust him after everything he’d put you through?

he was snapped out of his thoughts as jeongin met him at the door and stated he needed to go to the medical wing to get bandages to replace the bloodied ones you had on. hyunjin contemplated staying with you while jeongin went to grab the supplies, but one quick look at you could tell you were begging him not to.

he was angry at chan. there was no reason to treat you like that. he didn’t care that it was you because he didn’t have any feelings for you, but no one deserved that treatment when it’s unsure and improbable that they’re guilty.

he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was just him getting used to not having to act like he did. he didn’t actually care for you. 

he didn’t, right?

jeongin brought you breakfast again the next morning, immediately going to check your bandages. he smiled when he saw that they hadn’t been too soiled, meaning you didn’t bleed too much since last night. 

you stared at the food and it was like he could guess what you were thinking.

he nudged you with a small smile, “i made breakfast this morning.”

you chuckled before taking a bite of what he’d made.

“chan hyung says he believes you, by the way.”

you cocked your head in confusion.

“he thinks you’re innocent.”

you scoffed, “that’s good, because i am.”

“he’s really not that mean, you know.”

you huffed again, raising your wrists and showing the bandages and cuffs.

“he’s a sadistic prick who kills people for no reason.” you gestured to the blood stain on the floor.

“oh, you mean that? no, chan shot him because he ran a huge animal fighting ring.”

your eyes widened. okay, maybe the man deserved some respect.

jeongin had had just left to take your plate to the kitchen when hyunjin, changbin, and chan entered your little cell. 

you noticed hyunjin eyeing the bandages but chose not to vocalize it.

“we believe you.”

you remained seated on the cold floor.

“but we can’t just let you go, you’re a threat now. you know who we are and you know we’re after your father.”

“so, what? you’re going to keep me locked up in here forever?”

“i was thinking of giving you your own room and bed actually, but if you’d prefer this...”

he glanced around the room and the corners of your mouth turned up at chans attempt to joke with you. this was the chan you knew. not the one who toyed with your injuries the day before.

“look, y/n, i know he’s your father, but it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with what he’s really running. if you want, you’re welcome to stay here.”

“and if i don’t want to?”

he smiled again, “well, it’s not really a choice, i was just trying to be polite.”

this even got a smile back from you, which irked hyunjin even more. you could look chan in the eyes and smile for him when he’d practically tortured you less than 24 hours earlier but you couldn’t even meet his eyes?

“so?”

chans phone chirped and he slipped it out of his pocket.

“okay.”

he nodded to show he’d heard your response, “i have to go. seungmin says the front cameras detected motion.”

he handed the key to hyunjin before hurrying out the door. hyunjin made a move towards you, but stopped when he saw the glare on your face. he turned, handing the key to changbin. he clenched his jaw shut as changbin moved closer to you and you didn’t do much as tense up at his proximity. we’re you really that angry at him?

before changbin could unlock your cuffs, his phone went off with the same sound chans had.

“shit, more motion detectors went off.”

he passed the key to hyunjin and, seeing that he was your last option, you allowed him to get close enough to you to slip the key into the handcuffs, finally freeing you of them.

you rubbed your wrists, wincing at the contact. he looked at your wrists and your tear stained face.

there was nothing he wanted to do more in that moment than kiss it all better.

suddenly, two men you’d never seen before stormed into the room, guns raised. hyunjin seemed to recognize them, stepping in front of you.

“woah, woah, woah! chan cleared her, she’s good to go.”

was he protecting you? no, he was just standing up for you because chan had decided to keep you alive.

“that was then. he changed his mind.”

hyunjin adjusted the way he was standing to a more protective stance, covering your entire body with his own. maybe he did care.

“what? why?”

one of the men gestured to you with his gun before lowering it, “her little rescue squad showed up.”

hyunjin turned back to you as if to ask “is that true?”

you shook your head, you didn’t know anything about a rescue. how did your dad even know you were here?

“move, hwang. chans orders.”

you felt your stomach drop as he slowly moved out from in front of you. your eyes went wide and locked with his. he looked just as scared as you felt.

you turned back to the two men as they raised their guns again. you shut your eyes, praying that despite what they’d done to you, all nine of the boys got out of this alright. and despite how much you loved your parents, you hoped that they got taken down.

you took in a deep breath, waiting for the gunshot.

you felt your heart stop as two shots rang out.

you slowly opened your eyes, you didn’t feel a bullet wound. you were met with the two men laying on the ground with bullet holes in their heads. you turned to see hyunjin putting his gun back into his waistband before reaching out for your hand.

you pulled away, maybe he had just saved you from assassination, but you were not going anywhere with him. you had to find jeongin, he would keep you safe.

you weren’t able to act on your decision, though. he grabbed your arm, right above where the bandage stopped so he wouldn’t hurt you, and pulled you out of the room. you cringed as you stepped over the two bodies, careful not to step into the puddle of blood.

he lead you down a hallway that you vaguely remembered walking through when they first brought you here. you follow him up a staircase and he mumbled to you that he was taking you to his car so he could get you out of there. just before you were able to reach the garage, you was cut off by a few men you didn’t recognize. you looked at hyunjin, assuming they worked with him, but he shook his head. before you registered that they must work for your dad, two men had pulled hyunjin away from you and were holding him still. another one of the men pressed a button on the device in his ear.

“sir, we found her.”

you couldn’t run, they would kill hyunjin. you had no choice but to wait for who you assumed was your father to show up.

when he did, he immediately pulled you into a big hug. you pushed him away, disgusted. he didn’t seem to notice your disdain, grabbing your wrist and lifting it up with concern in his eyes.

“i told you they were no good, honey.”

you pulled yourself from his grip, ignoring the sting in your wrist for doing so.

“don’t fucking touch me.”

he reached out to you, but you swatted him away.

“my angel, what lies did they tell you to make you act this way?”

you swallowed hard before speaking, “they said you run a large human trafficking ring. that you use the people you say i’m interviewing for jobs and sell them to people like they’re just a toy to play with. people my age, dad.” your voice shrunk, “how long until you run out of people to pawn off and decide to sell me?”

he let out a small laugh, “sweetheart, i would never let you get in the hands of men like that! look, i even saved you from these pathetic excuses for men.”

hyunjin jerked around in the men’s arms and you locked eyes with him for a moment. you turned back to your father and forced a smile onto your lips.

“you’re right, daddy. you saved me. i should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him so long ago.”

he smiled back, “it’s okay cupcake, we all make mistakes.” you tried not to cringe as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“here,” he pulled a gun from his waistband, the one he swore he only carried to protect you and your mother, “you deserve the honors.”

you took the gun from his hands, forcing a smile to stay on your face as you familiarized yourself with the way it felt to hold. you’d shot a gun before, but never outside of a shooting range.

“you remember how, dear?” your father asked.

you nodded, lifting it up in both of your hands and pointing it at hyunjin. his eyes were frantic, like he knew you were planning something, but there was still an ounce of doubt, a small part of him that thought you would pull the trigger.

you clicked the safety off and fired a shot at the floor without hesitating. the noise rang through your ears, it was sure to be heard around the entire mansion, right? the boys would hear it and come running to help.

your dad lunged to take the gun from you but you raised it again, pointing it at him. everyone was shocked and hyunjin took that as an opportunity to free himself from his captors, moving so he was shoulder to shoulder with you and pulling out his own gun. you ignored the volt of electricity that shot through you at finally being close to him again.

your fathers men raised their own weapons and your dad made no attempt to have them lower their arms.

he let out a dry laugh, “i thought i raised you better than this.”

before you could spit back a reply, hyunjin did it for you.

“what, better than not operating a sex ring?”

“better than spending her time with some lowlife-“

shots rang through the building and you felt hyunjin tackle you, trapping you between his body and the floor and shielding you from the gunfire. after what felt like hours, the noise stopped and you heard minho speak.

“jesus fucking christ, is that all of them then?”

hyunjin slowly picking himself up off of you, checking to make sure the coast was clear before letting you back out into the open. the first thing you laid eyes on was the body of your father, fallen to the ground with a hold in his chest and his white button up stained red.

“no!” you screamed, and hyunjin pulled you into his chest, shielding you from looking at your fathers corpse any longer. you wept into his chest. you barely heard him yell for someone to move the body as you felt your heart snap even more, which you didn’t think was possible. 

you only looked back up when you heard chans voice, and he sounded mad.

“hyunjin, why the fuck is she still alive?”

you jumped at his words and hyunjin held you tighter.

“why would she need to be dead, hyung?” he yelled back.

he didn’t respond to hyunjin, instead directing his words at you.

“how the fuck did they know you were here?”

“i-i really don’t know chan, i’m sorry, he always talked about thinking you guys were a gang and i guess he assumed it was you who took me and-“

you cut yourself off with a sob, muttering ‘i’m sorry’ over and over again, hoping to god he would see that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

changbin approached him, wrapping and arm around his shoulder and suggesting they go for a walk. chan agreed, leaving with changbin.

jeongin kneeled down beside where you and hyunjin were still bundled together.

“he’ll calm down, noona, he knows you didn’t do anything, he’s just upset. felix got shot.”

you sat up straight, “what? is he okay?”

jeongin nodded, waving a hand dismissively, “he’s fine, it was just a graze, but hyung’s always been super protective over felix.”

you nodded, relaxing into hyunjins arms again. you had been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t realized that the rest of the boys had moved all of the bodies already. your chest stung when you remembered your father was among them.

 your father. he was dead, but what about your mom? was she okay?

you patted your pockets for your phone, but they’d taken it from you when they took you from hyunjins apartment.

“hey, woah, baby, what’s wrong?”

“can i use your phone?”

he agreed, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to you. you dialed your mothers phone number.

as the phone rang, you ran possible scenarios through your head. did she know what your father was really doing, or was she in the dark, just like you? 

the phone went to voicemail. you left a message saying it was you and that you were okay and to call back when she got it.

you couldn’t stop thinking about why it just kept ringing. why didn’t she answer?

you handed hyunjin back his phone and allowed him to help you stand. you weren’t injured, but you were shaking from the stress of what had just happened and your legs nearly buckled underneath you.

he caught you, picking you up in his arms. you didn’t have the effort to object like you normally would whenever he picked you up.

he told the boys he was going to take you to get cleaned up and they okayed it, saying they would handle clean up and for him to focus on making sure you were okay.

you felt bad when he laid you on his bed, it was so nice and neat and you were gross from being locked up for days. he insisted that it was fine as he dug through his wardrobe for the smallest pair of sweatpants he owned before lifting you back in his arms and carrying you to his bathroom.

you were in awe as he sat you on the edge of the tub, who needed a bathroom this fancy? he laughed at your amazement, tugging the hem of your shirt.

“let’s get these off and you can see how nice the tub is, yeah?”

you nodded, allowing him to slip your short over your shoulders. you removed the rest of your clothing yourself while he got the bath ready for you. 

“is this temperature okay, baby?”

you reached a hand into the water and nodded.

“perfect.”

he helped you into the water and you chuckled as he poured some bubble bath solution in.

“you take bubble baths?” you teased.

he scoffed, “are you crazy? of course i take bubble baths.”

he helped you scrub the dirt off of yourself and you couldn’t help but feel bad that he was helping. he was still fully clothed, the fabric getting drenched the more he interacted with you in the water.

when you commented on it, he smirked, “what, you saying you want my clothes off?”

you laughed and hit his arm, causing bubbles to stick to his shirt sleeve.

his eyes widened and his smile grew, “oh, it’s on!”

he leaned forward to tickle you but he missed, falling into the bath beside you.

you threw your head back and laughed as he pushed his hair back and wiped the bubbles from his face.

“ew! i fell into the gross y/n water!”

you went to hit him but he caught your arm, careful not to grab the hurt part of your wrist.

“i’m just kidding” he spoke softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

he helped you wash up a bit more before draining the tub and taking you to the shower to wash off. although you bathed, that meant you sat in that dirt and grime for the whole time.

he stepped in with you, it’s not like he had anything to lose with his clothing already drenched. you smiled as he poured some of his shampoo into his hands and worked it through your hair, it smelled just like him.

when you were finished, he gave you the pair of sweats he’d picked out earlier and one of his sweatshirts, the one you always asked him to wear so you could steal it. he made sure you were comfy and had something to drink before showering off himself, finally slipping out of the uncomfortably wet garments and stepping into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his own. 

he walked back to his bed smiled at the sight of you in it, fast asleep. he couldn’t blame you, you’d had a rough couple of days.

his attention was moved from you to his phone when it started buzzing on the table next to his bed. he frowned, not recognizing the number of the caller. regardless, he answered and put the phone to his ear.

“hello?”

“y/n? oh my god, who are you, where’s y/n?”

it must be your mother. he shook you awake, feeling guilty that he had to wake you when you obviously needed the rest.

“baby, it’s your mom.”

you took the phone from him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“mom? are you okay?”

a sigh of relief fell from her lips, “i’m fine baby, the police just showed up at my door and told me all of the things your father was involved with. god, i’m so sorry baby, i had no clue. i thought it was just... anyway, they offered me witness protection if i testify against the company, i won’t be charged with anything. i just-“ she cut herself off with a sniffle.

“i know, mom, me too. “ you paused, “did they tell you about dad?”

“yes, sweetheart, they did. they got an anonymous call stating where his body was. looks like he was shot. it’s less than what he deserved.”

you let out a little gasp, “mom!”

“what, baby? it’s true, you and i both know it.”

you sighed, she wasn’t wrong, but he was still your father and her husband, “i guess so.”

“okay sweetheart, it’s late, you should get some sleep. call me if you need anything, okay? i love you.”

“okay. i love you too, mom. goodnight.”

you handed hyunjin his phone and he placed it back on the table before leaning over and placing a kiss to your lips. he crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close to his body.

“i know chan offered you your own room, but what would you say about staying in mine?”

[idontlikeem]

okay, so i'm still working through the fic trope mashups; i saved all of them as screenshots in a google doc so i could write them and then just paste them into tumblr, and the weirdest thing happened—one of the asks completely disappeared? so...

you can find the fic tropes mashup game here!

sorry, anon, i don't know why your ask disappeared; i'm so glad i got the screenshot though, because i was really looking forward to this one!

Zhenya’s just settled in with his coffee, tucked away in the corner of the bakery and out of the view of the general public, when the chair across from him slides out and someone sits down.

Zhenya sighs and puts his book back on the table, looking up with a fake smile already plastered on his face. He loves the fans here in Pittsburgh, really he does, and normally he’s happy to pose for pictures and sign things and even talk hockey strategy with a few of the more informed fans, but...when he’s sitting in the most isolated corner of a room, with a book and his hat pulled down low, that’s normally a signal for even the most go-getter Penguins diehard that he wants to be left alone.

And most fans don’t usually just sit down at his table, sheesh.

He opens his mouth, but the man—the handsome man, Zhenya notes abstractly—leans over the table and rests his hands on top of Zhenya’s. “I’m very sorry to do this,” he says softly, looking up at Zhenya through his lashes. “I don’t mean to take up your time, and I’ll be out of your hair shortly; I just need to use you as a distraction. In a minute, someone’s going to come in looking for me, but they won’t be looking for someone who’s out on a date.” He puts a coy smile on his face and tilts his head.

Zhenya pulls his hands free. “If you want...hide, you know, in public, sitting with me, big mistake,” he says curtly, looking around them warily. He can’t be seen holding hands with a man in public. He’s spent years keeping that part of his life hidden, and he’s not about to ruin it now because some random person with a super-sketchy story is in some sort of trouble.

The man frowns, staring at him. His lips are very, very pink. “What—” Zhenya can see when the penny drops. “Oh, Christ, I am so sorry, you’re—” He’s getting flustered, Zhenya notes, watching as the man’s cheeks flush. It’s a very pretty sight; if he’d met this man in one of the discreet bars he goes to when he can get away, there’s no doubt he’d have him in a corner already, maybe even spread out in his bed.

Zhenya leans back in his chair and picks up his latte, taking a sip. “Sorry for wreck plan, you know, but—”

The man’s back straightens, and the shop’s door opens. Three uniformed police officers spill in; one’s holding a walkie-talkie, and the other two are alert, hands on the guns at their hips. They scan the shop, and one of them does a double-take when he sees Zhenya, but when Zhenya makes eye contact and lifts an eyebrow, he looks away hastily. They leave soon after.

“Wow,” the man says. Zhenya glances at him; he’d been watching the police in the reflection on the window, but now he’s staring straight at Zhenya again. “That actually worked better than I thought. They didn’t even come over here, they were too embarrassed at getting caught ogling.”

Zhenya can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “That not ogle,” he says—Kris taught him that word, right after Zhenya took the C and started getting eyed up everywhere he went, even in places he’d been able to slip under the radar before. “Ogle is, you know—” He flounders, though, because ogling is what the man had been doing to him before, even though it had been for show.

The man smiles slowly. He’s got sharp canines, and his grin is lopsided and predatory. Something in his eyes...Zhenya feels pinned, all of a sudden, for all it’s clear this man is much shorter than him. “Oh, I know. You know, I’m a huge fan of yours, and I’d love to be able to repay you for helping me out just now—can I make you dinner?”

He doesn’t ask to take Zhenya out, which already makes him smarter than 70% of the men he’s hooked up with in America. And the way he’s looking—

Zhenya thinks briefly of the police officers, the tension they’d all carried, the way they kept their weapons close at hand, and shrugs to himself. He’s a professional hockey player. He gets in fights as part of his job. Whatever bullshit graffiti or whatever it was this man did, Zhenya can take care of himself. He extends his hand across the table. “Evgeni Malkin. Can call Geno, easier for mouth.” He lets his eyes drop to the man’s lips.

“Oh, I don’t need easy for that,” the man says, biting his lower lip in what can only be a purposeful provocation. “In fact, you could say I prefer it hard. You can call me Sidney.”

-----

Even on days off, Zhenya can’t really sleep in any longer. He leaves Sidney snoring in his bed and shuffles down to the kitchen to start the coffee and put together something for breakfast.

He puts the television on for some background noise, already thinking of how he can entice Sidney to stay longer—he’s sore in a deep, pleasant way that he hasn’t had in a long time, and Sidney had said he’d let Zhenya come on his face if Zhenya wanted.

The news is droning on about a spate of recent murders, five over the last three days, all prominent local politicians, all names that Zhenya’s seen in the papers before, for their donations to charity and their civic spirit, and then their money-skimming and fraud and extramarital affairs. The police, the broadcast is saying, had a lead they’d been chasing down the day before, but they’d lost it, and are warning Pittsburgh residents to exercise caution when they’re out alone.

Zhenya doctors both mugs with cream and sugar and heads back up the stairs.

[arieswonjin]

my go-to (barista/cafe au)

pairings: goo jungmo x reader

genre: fluff, enemies(?) to lovers if you squint

summary: dealing with customers has never been your favorite part of being a barista. especially customers like goo jungmo. and now you have to train him to become one? that’s just great. 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none

song inspo: 커피를 마시고 coffee - reprise

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

"sir, may i ask if you’re going to order or not? you can step aside first if-"

"wait, wait. how different is the iced latte from the iced caramel latte?" says the man while still looking up at the menu overhead, lips parted, eyes squinted, and hands on the side of his neck, mid-scratch. you tapped the cash register impatiently and took note of how his sharp jaw moved as he scrutinized the menu. was it possible to hate someone at first sight? he was only your first customer of the day yet your blood was already boiling. either finals season was getting to you or this guy had a knack for testing your patience.

you walked to your part-time job every day at the break of dawn just in time for you to see most of the commercial establishments opening. people were going about their own mornings preferring to be undisturbed, you included. earphones in, you savored the few peaceful moments you had to yourself before the chaos of a morning shift.

more often than not, your shifts were totally and utterly uninteresting: you would be prepping ingredients to be used for the rest of the day and office employees or the occasional student running late for a 7 am class would be walking in and out to get their morning fix. there was also a bunch of cleaning left for you. the night-shift employee was simply not thorough enough to distinguish which mop to use for the spills. to this, you did your first of many eye-rolls for the day.

that being said, you weren’t exactly the most patient among your colleagues; however, the laid-back atmosphere this friendly neighborhood cafe had when it was not teeming with customers around the early afternoon almost made you forget about your subtle hatred for human interaction.

but today, as you started your shift at 6 am in the morning with your eyes barely open and a man who has been standing in front of you for more than three minutes, you remembered just why.

"well, sir, obviously, the caramel latte...has caramel." you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the stupid question, whispering the better part of your sentence to mask your tone. but as they all say, the customer is always right. what a nonsensical saying.

"give me a second. i’ll just call a friend to ask what to order here.”

to your distaste, the older male leisurely took his phone out from his brown coat and scrolled through his contacts like he had all the time in the world. oh, if he could only hear your inner thoughts.

“wait-” he flashed you a friendly smile while fumbling with the gadget. “hey, serim-hyung-"

the man flinched, almost too dramatically, when you placed both your palms on the counter with just the right amount of force to shake its contents. he expected to see you fuming but instead saw the softest expression on your face which, frankly, was scarier.

"one caramel latte, hot, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate for?"

"goo jungmo." he replied, suddenly alert, phone still pressed to his ear. the dull sounds of a confused friend on the other line now went unnoticed.

"...goo jeonmo. coming right up," you punched in the order while holding a fake smile that started to hurt your cheeks and exhaled a breath you didn't know you’ve been holding. breathe, y/n, this will be a fine morning. he’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.

“it's actually goo jung-"

"5,000 won, please." you extended your palm to him without making eye-contact.

jungmo just stared at your hand for a few seconds, still dazed with your outburst. could that even be considered an outburst? how strange. "oh. here." and it just started to sink in that you practically made his order for him.

"hey, i didn't ask for a-" he leaned in to take a peek at the monitor, ready to protest against the sudden turn of events. all he wanted was to get a new kind of morning coffee at this new place before walking to the university, yet it seemed like the way you two met was enough to shake the morning drowsiness out of the both of you.

"it's good. it’s my go-to. consider it a secret special," you said nonchalantly and turned the monitor away from him. you handed him the receipt and gestured him towards the claiming counter. "next customer, please."

jungmo slowly slid to the side as he placed his hands inside his pockets. he just shook his head, trying to wipe away the amused smile he now unconsciously had on his face while thinking about the humor in this encounter.

“oh shoot. sorry, hyung. did i wake you? my bad... but i guess you have to get up now, huh?” he laughed mischievously, getting back to the phone call left unattended a few moments ago. “oh, it was nothing! i’ll tell you about it later. it’s funny, really.”  

with a quick glance at your nameplate, he started to think about what other interesting encounters would take place in this cafe in the following mornings. maybe he just found his new pre-class route.

the rest of the week was uneventful to say the least. your encounter with the unrealistically good-looking yet annoyingly slow customer was now far forgotten. as per usual, university kept you busy outside of work.

you’ve always thought your part-time job jived well with your college degree. after all, there’s nothing like the scent and taste of coffee to keep a pre-med student awake in front of their brick-like pathophysiology books. all those extra shots of espresso and doses of dark chocolate are enough to keep your eyes open and your mind running for countless all-nighters.

and that was exactly what you were planning to do tonight. clad in your most comfortable sweater which replaced your coffee-stained apron, a cold drink in hand, you made your way to the haneul university library.

seoul started and ended its day just like any other famous metropolis. jungmo observed this everyday as his feet took him to where he needed to be like it's second nature. but that one wednesday when he broke his routine and entered a new side-street cafe, his morning became unlike any other stroll to the university and he was sure to go back.

for two very unexpected reasons.

first, because he was surprisingly offered a part-time job (a funny coincidence. who would’ve thought the cafe owner was his father’s high school bandmate?) and second, well, because he found himself craving your go-to drink. that genius mix really got to him. and to think that he didn’t even order it himself.

he pondered dropping by the cafe before his first day of barista training tomorrow as he stood up to exit the university library. jungmo just spent most of the evening finishing a 10-page world history paper, his last agenda for the day.

“agh… my back hurts.” he stretched before grabbing his jacket and the last of his things from the study table.

“y/n? the book you were looking for was just returned here,”

jungmo involuntarily snapped his head towards the front desk, reacting to the name called out by the resident librarian. he scratched his neck in confusion as he looked for the source of the voice.

“ah, thank you. i’ll take this,��

so it’s really that y/n from the cafe? he followed you with his eyes as you walked back to the library table that you were occupying alone. jungmo, his mouth frozen in a small ‘o’ at yet another coincidence, might just have a change of evening plans. haneul university was truly full of surprises. and good ones.

“long night?”

you abruptly looked up from the stack of notes you were studying intently, unable to properly respond to jungmo’s small talk. nonetheless, the look of recognition on your face was enough to urge him to continue.

“one caramel latte, with an extra shot of espresso and a pump dark chocolate for y/n. but you seem to be having it iced now?” he looked over at the drink on top of your desk, trying to use his wide smile to start a conversation. it’s how people almost always immediately warmed up to the charming and childlike goo jungmo. he silently hoped you were not an exception, even if he straight up just mocked your lines.

“you study here?” you asked when you recovered from the sudden greeting, if you could even call it that.

“well, obviously, i do.” jungmo mocked you again, all in good fun. he successfully replicated the tone you used with him during your not-so-pleasant cafe encounter.

you sighed in defeat. you really did feel sorry for the way you acted. it was a good thing you still even had your job. “i’m sorry for how i acted that morning. i guess it was the stress getting to me. jeonmo, right?”

“goo jungmo, actually.” he laughed, finally succeeding in correcting the mistaken name at which you just facepalmed in embarrassment. “no worries. i was really slow, wasn’t i?” he scratched the back of his head, a tinge of realization crossing his facial expression. you nodded with pursed lips.

“but hey, at least i got three good things out of that morning in bt cafe.” he casually sat on the chair next to you and pulled up three fingers, counting down while he spoke. “the drink was good, and i got a new job there, and...”

“wait, you’re the new recruit i have to teach?! you know i have to work nights now, right?”

maybe it was the way he sat down beside you so comfortably or how adorably foolish he looked with that habitual scratch to the neck, but holding a casual conversation with this jungmo wasn’t hard at all. the first impressions my 6 am-self created are really unreliable.

“you make it sound so sketchy. it’s a cafe job, not some underground cult.”

you rolled your eyes at his joke and scoffed, internally thanking the heavens for his humor that’s making this sudden interaction so light-hearted. he waved the previous statement off and continued. “turns out bt cafe stands for boys in trouble, my father’s band back in high school.”

“your father is mr. kim’s bandmate?! he talks endlessly about his band phase!”

“shhh!” both of you bowed to the librarian who was peering at you through the shelves on your far-left.

“best bandmate, mind you. it’s the reason why i picked up some guitar skills growing up.” jungmo gets immersed in your now-hushed conversation, making himself lean back on the library chair despite not having any work to do. you did the same, unconsciously leaning in to hear more about your boss.

your pending tasks were left undone for the meantime and you and jungmo were subjected to about three more glares from the librarian that night.

night 1: bt cafe

the training starts.

“coffee beans. they all look the same.” now wearing an apron identical to the one you had, jungmo stood in front of the cafe pantry trying to decipher the coffee beans you’ve been introducing to him without their respective labels.  

“that’s what amateurs always say,” you teased. from the previous night, you already established how fun it was to see his reactions to even the smallest attempts to irritate him. it was a good thing trainings took place in the early evenings when you actually had the energy for a bit of fun.

“well, i am an amateur. that’s why you’re teaching me, sunbae.” jungmo jabbed back and followed you around the main counter, hands clasped together as he tried to act like a cute and enthusiastic junior.

you pretended to cringe and broke in laughter when he whined. “back to the coffee beans…”

night 7: bt cafe

within a week, jungmo got the hang of working the bulky and stubborn espresso machine. he has yet to produce a perfectly good batch without burning himself, though.

“i’m surprised you even have the time for a part-time job, pre-med.”

“i could say the same to you, mr. pilot. don’t you have plane diagrams to memorize--ow! that’s hot!” you retreated from the hot cup he was handing to you.

“shit, did I burn you?” jungmo instinctively took your hand and started to look for any redness and swelling, turning your hand over in his. “where does it hurt?”

“.....i’m okay.” you looked up at the much taller male and slowly slid away, finding the sudden proximity quite foreign.

“a baristas hands are precious. let me get a cold towel,”

you followed his retreating figure with your eyes, noting how easily he blended in with the rest of the cafe, apron and all. with a shake of your head and a repressed smile, you might have just thought about calling him cute.

night 10: bt cafe

“....then, after that you just let the coffee drip by itself for about 15-20 minutes- yah.”

“hmm?” jungmo straightened up from having his head on his palm, elbows against the counter. “sorry. you kinda looked...cute...when you were focused.” he said softly without making eye-contact as he mimicked the coffee drip set-up you just made. he realized that it was a weird feeling, suddenly being timid like this.

“tch. focus.” you turned your back to place some ingredients back on their shelves, taking this opportunity to smile and recollect yourself before going back to watching jungmo’s progress.

night 14: university grounds

"you really don't have to bring me these to track your progress..." you saw jungmo waiting outside the biology laboratory for the third time this week, thermos clutched in hand. a few days ago, he insisted on buying his own coffee drip set to get some practice at home. talk about being thoughtfully extra.

"i mean, yeah, we're together every night but you have to see how i do it on my own!"

"shh! people will take that out of context, idiot!" you looked around at the waves of people piling out of the laboratory, worried someone might overhear. jungmo just teased you by wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a smack to the shoulder.

night 20: bt cafe

“yes, y/n, to what do i owe this pleasure of a phone call from you?” jungmo answered his phone after several rings. you were beginning to worry that he got into an accident. why was he so late to his training tonight?

“where are you?”

“i might not come tonight. important presentation tomorrow and we might have to pull an all-nighter. don’t worry! i already told our boss. wait, you’re actually looking for me.”

“i mean, you’ve been coming every night so…”

“y/n misses me.” you almost hear his teasing face through the phone lines. jungmo heard your eyes roll in turn.

“uhm, no, thank you. i’m hanging up.” you put your phone back inside your pocket only to retrieve it after a few seconds when you received a message notification.

don’t worry! i miss you too!

night 30: haneul university library

“agh. how am i ever going to save lives like this?” the sound of resignation in your voice made jungmo look up from his laptop. aside from the regular trainings, you and jungmo have arranged regular study sessions. it’s safe to say that you’ve been spending a good fraction of your week with your fellow haneul student, workmate, and, as it now seems, a special friend.

“you’re keeping me alive just fine, though, doc.” jungmo walked over to your side of the library table and ruffled your hair while your face was still buried in your textbooks. his previous statement went unnoticed. “you should go home early tonight. i’ll take you.” he pulled you up by the arm, shaking you to encourage you to stand up as you grunted.

“thanks, mogu.” 

he just nodded at you with a smile and held out his arm to drape around you while you walked. “let’s go.”

night 40: university garden

“hey, you never told me about the third thing.” you sat on the garden bench, stopping jungmo’s strides and pulling him to sit too.

"hmm?"

“the third good thing you got from that day at the cafe. you got a good drink, got a job and….?” you urged him to continue, expecting the answer to be something trivial. after all, it was something he told you on the first day you properly met. would he even remember what the third thing was?

“that? the third thing is that..." jungmo took his time and pretended to fix his jacket, intentionally stalling until you glared at him.

"....i met you.” the casual tone in his voice and the giggle that accompanied it made it seem like it was something he said everyday.

"liars go to hell. and you're full of cheese."

"but you love cheese." he shrugged. knowing you couldn’t deny this, jungmo stood up and pulled you by the hand, ready to walk you home like what the both of you have gotten used to.

night 50: bt cafe

“so you sold your coffee drip set to wonjin because…?” you were fixing up the last of today’s orders with jungmo waiting beside you to place them on their cup holders.

“i don’t need to make coffee for myself anymore. you speed up my heart just fine throughout the day now.” he secured the cups and held them out to the waiting customer. “come again!”

“goo jungmo.” you turned bright red and hid your embarrassment by slapping jungmo’s arm. “don’t fool around like that.”

“ey. i just confessed, can’t you be a little more accommodating?” jungmo ran to the door and flipped the cafe sign from open to closed. “should i have written it in latte art or something? i like you. would 8 letters fit in that tiny cup?”

“you call that a confession?” this earned the iconic whine from goo jungmo. "hey, idiot!" you called to him from across the empty cafe and scratched your neck like he always did, for effect. "i like you, too."

night 77: bt cafe

“shift’s over. what are you doing?” you leaned on the counter to take a peek at what jungmo was doing. there were no customers anymore so you were wondering what was keeping him so busy.

“one caramel latte, iced, with-“

“—an extra shot of espresso and a pump of dark chocolate...” you continued his sentence, nodding your head in time with the words.

“...for my y/n,” jungmo finished and handed you a cup with both hands. you took it with a playful squint of your eyes. 

you took a sip, keeping your eyes on the expectant jungmo. a moment of silence ensued.

“jungmo. i love you….but-”

“i love you too.” he hurriedly replied without hesitation.

“…but i still make the best version of this.” you smiled victoriously, sticking your tongue out at him before drinking the rest of the latte which you admitted tasted pretty close to your specialty. jungmo just raised his hands up in defeat and proceeded to watch you drink his version of the go-to drink that brought you two together in the first place.

“if i get to see you smile like that, do i really want to get it right?”

[mirrinbelde-shitposts]

I think aqua mercury

Iniyials:D.S

Hey!^^ Welcome to your reading. Please remember to send feedback.

First impressions when looking at your chart: 1st house stellium, two planets in an anaretic degree, bucket chart shape with Saturn being the focal point.

SUN IN PISCES

Pisces is the oldest sign of the Zodiac. The fact that your Sun is placed in this sign may imply that you've learned the lessons of all the other signs, which could make it easier for you to manifest the Sun's traits. It is a Sun sign often more concerned with others, rather than the self, perhaps due to being the last in the Zodiac. You're probably quite intuitive and dreamy, ethereal, even. Caring, sensitive and compassionate are words that are often attributed to this Sun sign as well. However, I've noticed that, along with Cancer, these natives often serve as the "therapist" friend. Nothing wrong with that, but, due to their nature, they can soak people's negative energies, which may severely affect their sensitive personalities. You should take care to balance the amount of time spent around these sorts of people; don't let others dump their traumas on you unannounced. You're quite the idealist, and your creativity is out of this world. You're probably very spiritual (astrology or other subjects).

SUN IN THE 1ST HOUSE

The 1st is the house of the self. It is ruled by Aries, the sign of exaltation of the Sun; therefore, it is a positive house for it. It balances nicely your Pisces Sun. Here, you acquire that optimism, confidence and positive self-esteem that Pisces isn't great at providing. It also makes it so that your personality is quite easy to perceive; in other words, your Sun shines brightly. This placement can grant you popularity and make you stand out in a crowd. Unlike Pisces, the Sun placed here could lend you that sense of leadership and taking initiative. However, like Aries Sun, you could, if you haven't developed the placement, show tendencies of egoism and vanity.

MOON IN LIBRA

Your Moon is in Virgo, although it's at the anaretic degree; therefore, it also takes traits from Libra. As a Virgo Moon, you should try to find activities that allow you to be occupied and to do good, which allows you to avoid thinking too much. Failure is a fear of yours. You can truly be your own enemy. You need to understand that there is no such thing as perfection in the universe and that you yourself are no different. There is a tendency to rationalize your feelings; know that to feel is to be human.

With Libra being so close, you may acquire some of its traits. You may shy away from confrontation and seek balance in every area of life.

MOON IN THE 8TH HOUSE

This placement goes well with your Pisces Sun, in the sense that it strengthens your interest in the occult and secret. It is a karmic position for the Moon; perhaps you have a very strong relationship with your mother. Additionally, it ties in with the idea of Libra's desire to find someone who balances you. You seek someone with whom you can form a deep emotional bond, someone with whom you can be vulnerable and share your secrets. It is also a good position for therapists because it allows you to connect well with people's feelings and needs.

MERCURY IN PISCES

Mercury is in detriment in Pisces. Whereas Mercury is all about rationality and logic, Pisces prefers to be creative and emotional. Therefore, your speech is very connected to your feelings and ideas. Once again, you're intuitive, but your rapid thoughts may cause your speech to be fragmented and incoherent. You may speak in a vague or poetic way. Daydreaming is a coping mechanism, so you may have trouble connecting to Earth. You may also struggle with other people's criticism.

MERCURY IN THE 1ST HOUSE

Placed here, you gain ease of putting your thoughts into words. You are curious and love to learn and may be versed in many different fields of knowledge. Talking to people is important to you. These abilities of yours may be quite important in your career, as networking is crucial to advance in any field. Open-mindedness and analytical thinking are other traits you may possess. However, you may be prone to distracting yourself with anything around you. Work on your attention span, it is important.

VENUS IN AQUARIUS

Here we have the second planet at an anaretic degree. In love, you are probably drawn to intellectual, quirky people. Aquarius Venus is known to be quite flighty and non-committal. That is just a stereotype. You can actually fall in love a lot; however, you may think that, more often that not, pursuing crushes isn't worth it. If you do decide that the relationship should be given an opportunity, you can be one of the most loyal and caring lovers. You want a partner who understands you and who won't judge you for being "different". Nevertheless, your personal space is important to you and your partner must respect your independence. You hate to be told what to do and how to think. Being friends first is probably something you value a lot. Like Virgo Venus, you should try to be less rational sometimes.

The proximity of Pisces may give you that ease of feeling and empathy that Aquarius doesn't have.

VENUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE

Here, Venus grants you a general sense of a harmonious, charming, alluring individual. You may focus a lot on the artistic and beautiful. You are probably someone who desires to connect and help everyone. However, you may struggle with accepting and loving yourself, which may cause you to "fish" for compliments from others. Loving yourself is essential. Additionally, you could use your charm and beauty to manipulate, even if you do so unconsciously. Finally, you may lack assertiveness and determination sometimes, which may lead to laziness and just waiting for good things to come your way.

MARS IN CAPRICORN

Mars is exalted in this sign. This is generally a good placement: Mars is about action and Capricorn is quite a determined sign. Your goals and ambitions are quite important to you; you have a natural way to achieve them because of your hardworking, disciplined nature. You set concrete objectives and deadlines for yourself and you usually achieve them. The downside is that you can be cold and detached. Aditionally, you have a deep desire of recognition. You love to work on your goals, but you also want to feel appreciated and that your work is meaningful. Usually quite in control of your emotions.

MARS IN THE 12TH HOUSE

This can be a difficult placement. On one hand, Mars can manifest in an unstable way, tricked by Neptune. Your emotions can be bottling up inside you and no one would ever know, until you explode. Something else that comes to mind regarding this placement is how you can spend too much of your energy thinking about how you can improve yourself; on the other hand, something can occur that makes you shift onto someone or something else. It is a bit paradoxal. I also associate this placement with people who go through situations of great importance, but whose outcomes may be tragic. You need a great deal of courage to deal with the challenges that life throws at you, which aren't few or small.

JUPITER IN LIBRA

You seek harmony and happiness. With your attuned sense of justice, you are the right person to find middle ground between two polar opposites. You draw a very clear line between what is right and what is wrong. You probably have good taste in just about everything. Relationships are important for your spiritual growth; however, your excellent and fair sense of justice does not apply to relationships. You may get into partnerships that seemed perfect at first but then disappoint you. Additionally, take care not to wander from relationship to relationship. Being in retrograde, you may withhold your true thoughts and opinions out of fear of hurting the other person.

JUPITER IN THE 8TH HOUSE

Traditionally, Jupiter ruled Scorpio, which corresponds to the 8th house. A theme of this house is money, particularly other people's money, as well as inheritances. You may get lucky in this department, or you may marry someone who's extremely well-off. People may even trust you with their money. Jupiter's philosophical side offers you a good understanding of human nature and its deepest characteristics, as well as the occult and religious matters. Lastly, like all 8H placements, you strive to find a deep attachment to people. Beware of getting seduced into entering sketchy and dangerous situations, for the 8th is the house that rules everything dark and deadly.

SATURN IN CANCER

Saturn is in detriment here. You may feel a strong need of emotional safety, which could manifest as a fear of abandonment. There may also be some emotional blockages present that you struggle to overcome. Saturn retrograde, being the planet of Karma, may difficult your mission in life. You could be stuck on an unresolved trauma from a past life. This may be represented by a figure of authority in this life, perhaps your father. Instead of attempting to reconcile your past, try to accept the world changing around you. You may be too afraid to venture into the world and to open your heart; accept that it is part of life. Find people that give you that security, but don't pour out your entire soul to them; find a balance. Not everything can be kept in our hearts, but not everything should be shared, either.

SATURN IN THE 6TH HOUSE

You can feel responsible for other people, especially your coworkers, even if you struggle getting along with them. There's a need to serve, to be of use to others; you may find it hard to relax. You are quite organized, so you'd do well to make use of it. You could also be the type to help others in the way to their goals. However, you should also understand that, sometimes, you should just let go and go with the flow. Not everything in life is about hard work, routines or responsibilities. Find something that excites you; try some meditation. There may also be some health issues, perhaps you had them in your childhood. ⬛

[a-la-la-llama]

The One Where Marinette Toasts Someone To A Crisp #9

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 10

Question: Do y’all prefer the numbered parts or should I change it to “Previous” and “Next” links from now on?

  By the time Marinette woke up the next day the only person still there was Harley. Everyone else was an early riser and had left by nine in the morning. She deserved to sleep in anyway. Waking up at three, just after everyone else went to sleep, and spending the next two hours making cinnamon rolls for everyone can be exhausting. Yet, Marinette did it anyway and went back to bed at five-thirty in the morning. She was awake by eleven and happily warmed up their breakfast.

“Blueberry, you should have seen how scary that movie was! I couldn’t even fall asleep until two am.”, Quinn complained as she dumped icing onto her plate.

“Two? Didn’t we start the movie at nine-thirty?”, Marinette said.

“Yeah and you were out by ten. Seriously, you didn’t even get to see the scary stuff! Then the warehouse gets so dark at night and V kept laughing at me.”, Harley whined

“I’m still trying to adjust to this school sleep schedule. Still haven’t caught up on all those days when I only slept two hours!”, exclaimed Marinette.

“But’cha still woke up early to make everyone breakfast?”, Harley said. The clown sighed in delight as she took a bite of the sweet, warm, gooey, bread.

  By Noon, Marinette and the Kwami's were out the door and on their way home. It was a little chilly even with the sun on her when she wasn’t in the shadows of the tall buildings. The breeze was what made it so cold.

The warehouse was an additional eight minutes away from the flower shop that totaled a twenty-three minute walk home. Harley had offered to escort her but Ivy had called saying she needed help at the event she was arranging. She was passing one of the numerous sketchy alleys when she felt something wrap around her waist and pull her quickly.

  Turns out it was one of those long canes that you would see on TV that were used for jokes. At the end of the stick two men dressed in black with another in a green suit standing right behind him. It was a disgusting neon green with plum purple question marks all over it.

“Nice catch, Erin! Now, I got riddles for you darling. Answer all of them correctly and I’ll let you go. Get one wrong and, well I don’t want to ruin the surprise!”, he finished with a grin.

Marinette grimaced at what he could be implying but said nothing.

“Let’s start easy then work our way up, eh? I’m tall when I’m young, and short when I’m old. What am I?”, he asked.

“A candle.”, she answered.

“Correct. What month of the year has twenty-eight days?”, he continued.

“All of them.”, Marinette said.

“Wrong, February can have- wait, you got that right, hmm. What can you never answer-“, the man began.

“Are you asleep yet.”, she interrupted before he could finish.

“Rude! Let’s see how good you are in math. What three numbers, none of which is zero, give the same result whether they’re added or multiplied?”, he questioned.

“One, two, and three.”, Marinette said.

“A word I know, six letters it contains, remove one letter and twelve remains. What is it?”

“Dozens.”

“You see me once in June, twice in November and not at all in May. What am I?”

“The letter “e”.

“Ugh! Last one little girl. What does man love more than life, hate more than death or mortal strife; that which contented men desire; the poor have, the rich require; the miser spends, the spendthrift saves, and all men carry to their graves?”, he asked with a smug smile at the end.

Marinette stood as still as possible in the cane's hold and processed the wordy question. She looked the man straight in the eye when she answered, “Nothing.”

The man threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “You are insufferable! I swore that one would have tripped you up. Most people failed at the month riddle.”, he whined.

“If you don’t mind, may I ask you a question?”, Marinette said politely as possible.

“Well, you are the first person today to answer all my riddles. Go ahead.”, the man grumbled.

“Who are you?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks, he seemed appalled by the question. Was she supposed to know him?

“I’m the notorious Gotham villain, Riddler! Far better than Clue Master, I must add. How have you not heard of me? I just escaped! I should be all over the news already, aren’t you scared?”, he rambled before turning back to her.

“One, I’m new here. Two, I can’t afford cable and get all my entertainment from YouTube because it’s free. Three, if you're a man you’ll keep your word and let me go.”, she retorted.

The man, the Riddler, cackled before bursting into a fit of laughter. She looked at the two men that had been holding the cane and they looked at her. The three weren’t exactly sure on what to do and waited for him to finish.

“E-Erin, Oscar! Di- Did you hear what the girl said? Hooooo!”, he exclaimed, and dramatically wiped a tear from his eye.

“What’s your name and are you willing to become my partner in crime?”, Riddler asked once he got a hold of himself.

“Marinette. Not to be rude but I wouldn’t want to be seen with someone with questionable style choices. ( Hah pun! ) Seriously, are you trying to be an eyesore. I would also refrain from asking me to join you unless you want to face the wrath of a pissed off clown.”, she responded.

“Hey, I designed this myself! You’re working with the Joker?”, he questioned.

“Worse. Harley Quinn.”

  Marinette found herself dragged or pushed back to where she was on the sidewalk right after. The cane retreated back into the alleyway as she watched the three escape from the other end. Marinette debated on whether or not to tell Harley now or to wait. This Riddler didn’t seem that dangerous and was afraid of what Quinn could do. Ultimately, Marinette decided she would tell the clown the next time she saw her. That would certainly be enough time for man to attempt to make an escape.

“I don’t think I want to go home anymore, Miri’s. How does a trip to the park sound? I didn’t exactly get to enjoy it last time.”, she asked the kwami’s.

The pulse of excited energy was all she needed to for an answer and change directions.

Tag List

@legallyspawned @chocolate1721 @spartanxhunterx @dreamykitty25 @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @loveswifi @amayakans @jeptwin @thewonderlandartist @buticaaba @books-and-left-behind-journals @gigibnl @aegyobutpsycho2 @crazylittlemunchkin @maribat-is-lifeblood @myazael @abrx2002 @pawsitivelymiraculous @silvergold-swirl @chaos-inperson @marichatcameback @olynix @ash-amg @elmokingkong @kitsunebell @yin-390 @indecisive-mess-named-me @jeminiikrystal @startouchedqueen1318  @alexandriamw @zalladane @how-to-fuction-properly @k-poplunardreams @majorcurious007 @ironspiderstark @laurcad123

[cotncandyboifics]

The Bidding of the Prince Twins: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~

Pairings: (vague/qpr) Loceit, eventual Analoceit

Word count: 2,977

Story summary: Virgil finds himself being held hostage in an unknown location. His two suspected captors seem to care for him more than any strangers should, especially strangers who kidnapped him. But were they really the ones who kidnapped him? That aside, Virgil also can't shake the feeling that there's something familiar about them. He just can't pin-point what it is. As time passes, the layers of lies the three of them are caught in are gradually peeled away, one by one.

General CW: U!Roman, U!Remus, food, kidnapping, implied Stockholm Syndrome, moderate to severe amnesia, swearing, sexual innuendos, graphic descriptions of gore/violence/scarring, minor character d-aths, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, non-graphic descriptions of needles (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food mentioned, minor amnesia, kidnapping hostage, swearing, non-graphic description of anxiety attack, non-graphic description of a needle (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author Notes: <none>

...

Virgil winced, squinting sharply as a blinding white light was trained on his face. A giant light getting forced into someone's face would be jarring under any circumstances, but it was especially so considering he had previously been engulfed in an almost equally jarring darkness. He'd also just awoken from an unexpected stint of disorienting unconsciousness.

He felt a presence behind the light, and the edges of hair tufts caught bits of light from behind the cone of death that was focused on him. The figure was clearly tall, and though Virgil was seated, he could easily tell that if he weren't, this person would probably be a head taller than him at the very least. He tried to twist his wrists in the several zip-ties that had them bound together behind his back, as well as to a rod running up the center of the back of his chair. He clenched his jaw, looking down as the light sent a shock-wave of pain through his eyes.

"Virgil Black." A stern monotone voice came from where he'd seen the shiny bits of hair before. It's familiarity wasn't striking, but it had a relatively calming effect on Virgil's nerves, so his mind didn't feel the need to follow that train of thought.

"That's me, man," He tried, voice coming out slightly hoarse. "Mind explaining why the fuck you've got me tied up in this interrogation basement? Last I checked I'm not involved in any CIA bullshit," He sneered. Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone pushing a chair out and standing sounded somewhere to his right, behind the first figure. Someone else was there too. A step or two sounded as the second entity vaguely came toward Virgil. Great, two assholes to shake off.

"Very funny." A deeper voice came, much snarkier than the first. Virgil felt his spine tingle. This voice was oddly familiar as well, but he was still too out of sorts to try and figure out why.

"I apologize for the unsavory conditions, but it is imperative that our identities be kept classified for the time being. All we need is a minute amount of information, and we will be on our way." The first voice again. A very small clacking sound of plastic came from near the figure's face.

"Imperative to what?" Virgil hissed between clenched teeth, looking back up at the mysterious person. This time, he was able to pick out another feature; the light also caught what appeared to be the rim and lens of a pair of square prescription glasses. That explained the plastic clacking, he guessed. Virgil doubted they could be any other sort of glasses; it's possible that this person was a constantly-wearing-sunglasses type, but based on his brief time interacting with them, Virgil didn't really buy that. As well, some part of his intuition told him they were most certainly prescription, the same part that had noted the familiarity of both voices.

"That will also have to remain classified for now. But enough." The voice grew firm. Virgil tried to keep himself from swallowing audibly. "What are the most recent events that you remember, Virgil?"

He tried to think. "Well it's awful hard to recall anything with that giant light in my face, so can I have a minute to think? On top of that my memory is shit anyway because of my anxiety. Is that cool with you, thing 1 and thing 2?" A scoff came from Thing 2, seemingly off in the corner. Virgil hoped the half-hearted remark would keep them entertained as he tried twisting his ankles. They were tightly and securely duct taped to the legs of his chair, which was slowly cutting off his circulation. He felt his toes starting to grow cold and tingly. That meant he'd only been secured like this for a short amount of time, a couple minutes at most.

"By all means. Take your time." Still the first figure's voice, dripping with sincerity. Virgil detected what seemed to be a hint of remorse in their voice, as if they genuinely felt sorry, or at least uncomfortable with what they were doing. Virgil wondered why the second person was so evasive. He figured he'd try to provoke them into speaking again soon.

But for now, he had to think. What was the last thing he remembered? Before a throbbing headache, before the pitch black, before the sound of heavy rusty doors whining open and closed, and two sets of footsteps approaching him. He hadn't really registered them at the time; he'd been too disoriented, he guessed from some sort of anesthetic.

He tried to think back further. He pulled basic facts from his mind, hoping to jog his memory. He lived in New York, in a one-bedroom apartment with his roommate and best friend Patton. They'd fit two twin beds in their little bedroom. They were both Seniors at NYU. That started things off, at least. He spent a lingering moment recalling the cat they both took care of together. Her name was Natalie, and she was pitch black, each and every hair on her body a rich raven shade.

He knew Patton had planned to have a little get-together with some Psych major friends he had, and encouraged Virgil to bring some of his Techie buddies. They'd gone shopping for snacks last night.

He figured he'd start with that.

"Well, I remember Tuesday night for sure. Me and my roommate went grocery shopping. Getting snacks for a little get-together we were having. Not my idea, of course. I'm not a huge fan of parties, or-"

"We asked for your most recent memories, not your life story," drawled the second voice. Virgil smirked behind his bangs. "Will you get on with it already? Unless Tuesday night is really your most recent memory."

"As much as your- contributions - are appreciated, J, I am conducting this interrogation, and I'd prefer if you'd keep your snide comments to yourself for at least the first session," The first voice came again, hushed and sounding strained. Virgil clung to what little information he got from the comment. The second voice belonged to someone who could be identified as "J" apparently, and this was the first... session? Virgil had to set his mental notes aside for the time being though, since he had evidently not yet produced an adequate response. "My apologies, Virgil. My colleague is... rather, anxious, to... move things along. You may continue."

"No sweat. Sounds like J just needs a bit of a chill pill." Virgil smirked in the general direction he'd heard J's voice coming from. He was met with an almost disturbing silence. As expected. "Anyway. I remember shopping, and heading home, and... eventually sleeping. Ah, I guess I woke up a little late Wednesday morning, because I was rushing around and shit. My roommate looked kinda worried about it, but that's just how he is." Virgil paused for a moment. He wondered if these two mysterious figures knew about Patton and NYU and where he lived and everything, and considering he knew nothing about them or what they wanted from him, he wouldn't have been surprised. Regardless, he figured it would be best to keep things as anonymous as possible for the time being. "...Hmm. Then I think I rushed onto the bus. I think I caught it just before it was leaving. I got to, where I was going, and did what I was meaning to do, and then... I guess I headed home? I remember the thing I had to do, and finishing it, but... after that things get kinda foggy. I dunno." He paused again. A beat of silence. "Then again, I'll probably remember more in a few minutes. Especially if I'm not being literally slowly blinded." He finished, looking up at the figure behind the light with as large eyes as he could manage. The figure cleared their throat.

"Thank you Virgil. As well, there is no need for anonymity. We are fully aware of your roommate Patton, and the Economics lecture you nearly missed on Wednesday. However, your attempt at omission was... if nothing else, entertaining." Virgil scoffed under his breath. Even if his anxiety had predicted this just moments before, he was getting really freaked out now. It's never the same at all, imagining worst case scenarios and actually living them. The initial shock of this whole situation was wearing off, giving way to panic.

"At this time, in return all I can offer you is this. You are aware of the second man in your presence, I'm sure. For now you will know him as J, as you clearly caught on to rather quickly."

"He loves the witty ones," J's voice came this time directly from Virgil's left, and much closer than before. It took all of Virgil's self control not to flinch away. "So you'll entertain him well. He's L, by the way."

L cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you J. I shall be addressed as L. You will likely only see both of us at once. Perhaps on rare occasions we will each come in alone, but J and I are partnered, so that would likely do little more than impair our... performance."

"Partnered? Performance? What am I, a high school science project?" Virgil snickered bitterly. "My wrists are starting to hurt pretty fucking bad. This is pretty sketchy, L. I didn't fucking do anything wrong. Why am I here?" Virgil tried not to let the shrill breathiness overtake his voice too much, but the anxiety rising in his chest was far from merciful. He tried to calm himself internally, but that wasn't exactly working out.

"I can understand your frustrations," L replied, and the glint of his glasses shifted, the small plastic clacking sound coming again with it. Virgil realized it was just L adjusting his glasses, likely out of habit. "But, for your safety, I cannot give you a direct answer to any of those questions yet. Ah, except; no, you are not a high school science project." Virgil could practically taste the smirk on L's face. He wanted to spit at him. He wanted to tear himself out of the fucking zip ties and duct tape. He felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Listen, I get that you two are having a jolly good time fucking me up, but I'm," Virgil struggled, each word becoming harder to force out of his trembling mouth, "I'm kinda freaking out here." He hated the way his voice cracked then.

Virgil could see the glint of L's glasses shifting again, the tall man turning to look at his sarcastic counterpart. A short nod, and with a small clicking sound, the light was shut off.

Somehow, the room seemed darker than it had before. The change was so disorienting that Virgil couldn't pinpoint just where the sounds of shuffling of feet around him were coming from or going. No screeching metal door sounds came though, so he knew J and L had to be in the room with him still. His breathing was becoming very labored, and it overwhelmed him as the only sound he could hear. God, how he hated anxiety attacks.

"Virgil." J's voice came from directly in front of him - J was likely crouched to be on Virgil's level - and it was uncharacteristically silky smooth. He flinched that time, but was able to keep himself from hissing. He was only sure it was J's because of its specific inflections; there was no way this could be L, and there was certainly no fourth person in the room (he hoped). "I understand you are very disoriented right now, but the last thing we want to do is cause you an anxiety attack. My sincerest apologies for triggering the beginning of one. That aside, I need you to focus on your breathing. Nothing but your breaths and the sound of my voice."

His voice felt like butter melting, gliding across a hot pan and leaving a silky trail. Or maybe like warm honey running down flushed skin. Virgil was captivated, and thank fuck, because if it weren't for Fuck Face #2 over here, he doubted he would have been able to get out of this one so easily. So he focused, focused hard on the labored breaths he was huffing.

"Now, I need you to try to slow down. Just a little bit. Slow down for me. Feel the air filling and retreating in your lungs. Let it stay a little longer. Then, let it leave in a gentle skip instead of a frantic sprint." God, if Virgil wasn't Fucking Freaking Out right now, he'd probably be trying to flirt with Mr. Butter-tongue, considering the shivers going up his spine weren't only thanks to his panic disorder.

Gradually, he managed to slow down. It wasn't a straight path, but eventually he got there. J continued cooing sweet nothings to him as he came down before any sort of climax. He thanked the darkness for hiding his horridly hot face from his captors. He heard a slight creasing of fabric.

"All better?" J's smile was practically visible with the way he almost sweetly sneered those words. His voice came from higher up, so Virgil knew he must've stood once again. He just scoffed in a half-assed cover up.

"Sure, Fuck Face Number two." He tried rocking himself side to side in his chair, but it seemed to be attached to the floor. He groaned.

J tsked a few times. "Is that any way to talk to someone who just kept you from what would surely have been a horridly exhausting anxiety attack? Honestly. You ought to be more grateful, Virgil." Virgil was beginning to passionately hate the way J talked; so sassy and drawly, as if he thought he was some serious hot stuff. Virgil wanted to smack him something awful.

He heard soft receding footsteps, feeling J's presence recoil.

"So how does this work? Is someone gonna have to whip out my dick for me when I have to pee?" Virgil prodded at the void around him.

"Very funny, Virgil. No, you will soon be... enlightened, regarding your temporary living situation, so to speak." L's voice came again, finally, from slightly to the right. It was a lot less variant in tone than J's, and Virgil greatly appreciated the constancy.

He couldn't respond soon enough; he felt something pierce his skin on his left outer thigh. Warm breath teasing at skin behind his left ear was the last thing he remembered. "Go to sleep, V. We'll see you again very soon."

"Night night, J," He whispered, before the lights really went out.

...

Logan sighed, shrugging off his navy pinstriped suit jacket as he shut the door behind him. He held it by the collar in one hand, turning to survey the disheveled mess that the observation room had become over such a short period of time.

Piles and piles of paper were stacked high on the wall-to-wall desk, and stacked higher on the floor. The interrogation light - just an industrial Flashlight with a cone of metal wrapped around it's end to amplify it - had been discarded lazily in one corner. Janus was seated at said desk, slouched over himself on a fold-out metal chair, resting his chin on his palm as he looked out through the false mirror at a peacefully sleeping Virgil.

His hat was resting on a corner of the back of his chair, along with his gold-encrusted swallowtail coat. He looked a bit of a mess. His hair was fraying and splaying everywhere. His eyes looked tired, even if Logan could only see his one blind eye from this angle. The jagged scars that crept up his neck and covered the side of his face seemed paler than usual.

"Are you okay, Janus?" Logan inquired as neutrally as he could manage, sitting beside his friend.

Janus merely side-eyed Logan, in his all-knowing way. "I think you and I both know the answer to that question."

"Look, I know this method is-- well, disconcerting," Logan's words rushed out of his mouth as if they were being chased, "but we do not have another choice right now. We will get this over with soon... we will find a way to get through this." Logan cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie. Janus considered rolling his eyes and responding snidely, but he knew Logan wasn't taking kindly to these new... circumstances either.

"We will." He settled on an attempt to be reassuring. Janus had always been good at that, or at least he'd been told so. He only wished it worked on himself too, especially now. Logan offered a small smile.

A long silence overtook them. They both simply sat side by side and observed their unconscious hostage. He was sprawled rather inelegantly across a deep grey satin bed, one arm wrapped in a death grip around a plush pillow. His leg stuck out haphazardly over the edge of the bed, and his hair was in worse shape than Janus' - which was saying something, since Janus' hair was notoriously wavy and curly and constantly out of sorts, while Virgil's was just straight. His mouth was slacked open, but he didn't snore. His eyebags were somehow visible under his black eyeshadow.

Logan broke the silence first. This normally would have dismayed Janus, but again, these were... unusual circumstances. "Well, he seems figuratively out cold for the time being. Shall we seek out some sustenance?" Logan shrugged his suit jacket back on. Janus didn't move a muscle.

"I'm not hungry right now. You go ahead, I'll make sure he doesn't wake up and start tearing out his hair or something." Janus' somber tone stole his voice's usual sarcasm. Logan rested a hand on his shoulder with a great softness.

"I'll grab you a little something. Try not to stress yourself out too much." With that, Logan set a water bottle on the desk beside Janus' elbow and left in near silence.

Janus heard a faint receding clicking as Logan walked away down the hall.

[kurowrites]

The Live-In Boyfriend - Chapter 1

Looking for live-in boyfriend, the title read.

It had only been put up the day before.

Well, well, Wei Ying thought to himself. Isn’t that exactly what I was looking for?

He clicked on the link and quickly read through the text of the advert.

Since you all enabled me yesterday - have a chapter of Wei Ying being supremely stupid. Link to AO3.

(Note that this fic is going to get mature later on. Also don’t try this at home pls.)

---

Wei Ying usually wasn’t the kind of person that eavesdropped on the conversations of people he didn’t know. Most of the time, it wasn’t worth the effort of spying, anyway.

(Too many boring people in this world.)

But something about the day he’d had so far, and the way the two girls seated next to him kept giggling and exclaiming in (pretended?) shock, made him listen in. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He was just sitting there, sipping on his depression coffee, trying to decide what he was supposed to do next.

“A website?” the girl with a truly impressive set of pink lacquered nails exclaimed. “Isn’t that super sketchy?”

She emphasised ‘sketchy’ by tapping her long, sharp nails onto the tabletop.

“Noo, not at aaaall,” the other girl, dressed in a figure-hugging dress the colour of a ripe banana, replied. “You have to provide identification and they do a background check on you, to make sure you’re not a criminal or something. The sugar daddies too, of course.”

“Oh really?” Pink Nails asked, and immediately looked a lot more interested in the topic.

Well, Wei Ying had to agree with Pink Nail’s interest – he could use one of those sugar daddies himself. Someone willing to pay for his expenses, that would be nice. A lot better than being homeless, at any rate.

“Yeah, and you can even chat with them before meeting them,” Banana said, twirling her hair around her finger coquettishly. “It’s not like I’m going to go out with just any guy.”

“And that’s where you met him?”

“Yeah,” Banana said, leaning back a little, clearly satisfied to have the undivided attention of her companion. “You have lots of choices, and you can put in your preferences, too.”

She leaned forward again, and lowered her voice to a fake whisper that did nothing to make her voice less audible over the soft café music.

“I was really lucky with my current sugar daddy. He’s really generous because he has an established career and a lot of money. He likes kinky sex, but that’s fine, because he also kinda gets off on me sleeping with other guys, so it’s not like I can’t still go out and do whatever I want. I’m just providing him with company and a pretty thing to hang off his arm whenever he goes to a party or something.”

The two women laughed, and returned to the discussion of the advantages of this website.

Wei Ying’s attention was caught. He looked down at the sad little weekend bag next to his chair that contained nearly all of Wei Ying’s worldly possessions, discounting the boxes of books he had managed to stow away in Jiang Yanli’s attic. He’d had to sell all his furniture because he had no space where he could put it anymore. The landlord had kicked him out despite Wei Ying’s best attempts at negotiation (curse his entire bloodline), and now Wei Ying was, essentially, homeless. He had no idea how to weather the next few weeks. He had no stable address, and he needed to look for a new job. Things weren’t looking good for him.

So, he sipped on his possibly last coffee for a long time and pretended not to listen in to the conversation of the two women next to him. And when Banana finally mentioned the name of website she had been using, he felt compelled to casually unpack his own laptop, make use of the café’s free Wi-Fi, and enter the name of the website into his browser.

He was just curious, that was all.

His search returned with the result that this website was in fact the equivalent of a dating website, only for sugar babies and other forms of… special companionship. The company claimed to be classy and strict with their background checks, made assertions of quality and high customer satisfaction. And the registration as a potential sugar baby, companion, or whatever else they wanted to call it, was free.

Wei Ying paused for a moment, wondering if he really should do such a thing. All assertions from the provider aside, it was still a risky thing.

He took another look at the bag at his feet. It couldn’t get much worse than it already was, could it?

He clicked the ‘new account’ button and filled out the application without a second thought.

---

Looking for the right sugar-person wasn’t exactly a simple thing to do, Wei Ying realised about three pages in. He had decided early on that the gender of this potential sugar person didn’t actually matter, but that had the simultaneous advantage and disadvantage of increasing his possible matches considerably. He wasn’t sure how to make a choice in this wild new world that had suddenly opened himself up to him.

He was a bit nervous about the having sex part, too. He tried to imagine having sex with someone he didn’t really know and maybe didn’t find very attractive, but he drew a complete blank. It might be better to stay on the safe side and choose someone who didn’t have sex as a prerequisite. That might work out better for everyone involved.

God, with all these options and decisions, it was as complicated as looking for a job.

Well, technically, if he did it right, it might be a job. Well, not really, but he might get enough money to keep him afloat for a little bit. And with enough money, he might be able to both afford a decent apartment and find a well-paying new job.

He absent-mindedly scrolled past adverts looking for highly specific… qualifications that Wei Ying definitely didn’t have, and was considering giving up when he saw an advert for the same city he was living in.

Looking for live-in boyfriend, the title read.

It had only been put up the day before.

Well, well, Wei Ying thought to himself. Isn’t that exactly what I was looking for?

He clicked on the link and quickly read through the text of the advert.

Looking for live-in boyfriend

The ideal candidate must be clean, quiet, obedient, and sophisticated. Must be able to play his part convincingly around relatives, business associates, and friends. Good table manners and skilful socialising are required.

Physical relations are not required, but negotiable if so desired. Strictly no romantic entanglements. Affairs during the duration of the contract will lead to immediate termination.

I offer a large apartment with own private room. All ensuing costs (rent, food, clothing, allowance etc.) are covered.

The advert didn’t reveal much about the writer and his personality, so it was difficult to say anything about how well they’d fit together. But the man offered a room! Without the prerequisite of sex!

He clicked on the profile of this potential sugar daddy to find out more about him. The man, who went by L. Z., was the same age as Wei Ying, and had been working in his family’s company ever since he graduated university. Someone who had been born into wealth, probably.

He lived alone and was openly gay, so his family would expect him to bring a man to public events and family dinners. His hobbies included music, reading and tea ceremony. All in all, Wei Ying started to wonder if he was being catfished, because the age and occupation said successful young man, but the rest of it said boring middle-aged uncle with a receding hairline.

But what did Wei Ying care about boring when such a perfect opportunity presented itself to him? He didn’t want some kind of old, kinky dude. He simply wanted a place to stay, and if that stay came with an allowance and some social contact, it would be perfect for him. He had good table manners. And he did well at socialising. Most of the time.

He decided that ‘quiet’ and ‘obedient’ were relative things. He could be quiet! Sometimes! If he was reading interesting things!

He was going to contact this person, worries and fears be damned. What use was it to wait around? If this man was actually for real, he might get snatched up by someone else quickly.

He clicked on the 💌 button on the sidebar of the profile, and typed out a quick message.

Hi L. Z.!

My name is Wei Ying. I live in the same city as you and as coincidence would have it, I’m currently looking to be a live-in boyfriend! We’re the same age, too, so I think we would work very well as a couple!

I also like reading (if you have a library, I’d be all over that) and I think I can safely promise not to have any affairs while we’re dating. As for the rest, I think it would be best to judge for yourself. I’m free the next few days, so I have time for a personal meeting!

I’m a little curious though – why are you looking for a live-in boyfriend? Not to judge you, since I’m obviously responding to your advert, but you seem like a man that’s very put together. You probably could choose anyone you wanted, so why an advert?

Best, Wei Ying

He didn’t really think that he would get an answer soon, and half expected his message to go ignored, but it took barely an hour until a notification pinged on his phone, indicating that he’d received a reply.

He eagerly clicked the ‘view message’ button.

Dear Wei Ying

Thank you for your message.

I agree with you. Someone from the same city and of the same age would be a good potential partner. If you do not mind, I would like to invite you to my apartment for a personal meeting. We can meet in a café if you are more comfortable meeting on neutral ground, but you should know where you would live before you make any decisions.

To answer your question: I am not interested in a romantic relationship, but my family has been concerned about my happiness ever since I came out as gay. They want to see me in a fulfilling relationship. I want to make them stop worrying. A contractual arrangement will take care of these issues. Once we terminate the relationship, it would also provide me with a good reason not to date for some time.

Best regards,

Lan Zhan

Wei Ying gaped a little. That was a… very decisive statement. This Lan Zhan certainly didn’t beat around the bush.

Oh god, was he really catfished? Human trafficking, perhaps? But then…

He had no time to lose, and getting a home and money as a package deal was very tempting. If Jiang Yanli ever got wind of this, she might strangle him with her own bare hands. But well. She never would get wind of it. Wei Ying would make sure of that.

He pulled out his laptop again, and typed out a second answer.

Hi Lan Zhan!

Nice to meet you again. 😊

Meeting you at the apartment is fine, just know that I’m going to inform a friend of my whereabouts and check in with them to make sure everything is fine.

Tell me your address and a time that works for you!

Best,

Wei Ying

He sent the message and within a few minutes, he had an address and a time – the next day, at 5.30 pm. Lan Zhan also assured him that he was perfectly fine with Wei Ying telling a friend where he was. So maybe not a catfish, after all?

Wei Ying immediately looked for the address online, and it was a nice, modern building in the centre of town. Not some kind of seedy warehouse or an abandoned house. If he ended up disappearing in that part of town, there would probably be witnesses.  

He sent a short confirmation to Lan Zhan, telling him that he would be there at the desired time. And then, he spent the rest of the evening panicking about what he had done.

He just barely remembered that he needed to contact Nie Huaisang and use him as security. Nie Huaisang was the only one he could think of right now that wouldn’t try to talk him out of this. Jiang Cheng would just straight up murder him.

He had committed now. There was no way back.

---

His internet search had already informed him that the apartment was in the better part of town, so Wei Ying had expected a rather classy apartment building. What he hadn’t expected was that said apartment building came with an actual concierge. He’d never had to go through a concierge to meet any of his friends so far. The entrance hall almost looked like a hotel.  

Good gracious, this might all be an elaborate prank.

On the other hand, if he disappeared, now he had another witness.

He walked up to the concierge’s desk and smiled at the man behind the desk winningly.

“Hi, my name is Wei Ying. I’m here to meet Lan Zhan.”

The man gave him a critical look, from his ponytail down to the thick black leather boots he always wore, and picked up the phone in front of him.

He entered a number and let it ring a few times.

“Good evening, Mr. Lan,” the concierge said when someone picked up on the other end of the line. “A Mr. Wei is here to see you. Yes, understood. I will send him up immediately.”

The concierge came out from behind his desk and directed Wei Ying to the elevator. He held the door open for Wei Ying and pushed the button for the right floor, then bid him goodbye.

“Thank you!” Wei Ying called through the closing elevator doors, but the concierge was already out of sight.

Oh well.

He was going to meet Lan Zhan. Right now.

He quickly pulled out his mobile phone and tapped out a message to Nie Huaisang.

[Wei Ying, 05:29 pm] I’m going up to the apartment now. IT COMES WITH A CONCIERGE. 😱

The door pinged and opened onto an empty hallway with elegantly tiled floor and a tasteful but abstract mural on the wall. Wei Ying stepped out of the elevator and looked around curiously. Which way was he supposed to go?

“Wei Ying?”

There, at the end of the hallway, a man stood in the frame of an opened door.

This must definitely be a catfish, Wei Ying decided then and there.

There was no way that a man this beautiful needed his help.

[not-close-to-straight]

Lost and Found (Sixteen)

Ughhhh Tissues Needed

Also Generic WS-typical warning for mentions of slightly torture-y things

MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

“Sir, could I remind you that use of this particular suit results in more wear on the arc reactor? With numbers pushing 70%, surely you don’t want to risk it?” 

Tony called James from the suit as it blasted towards Washington D.C., ignoring the warning numbers on the screen as the arc reactor surged to maintain the suits demand for power and the projected poison levels in his blood climbed higher. 

“Tony?” 

Just hearing James’s voice made Tony’s resolve falter, and he was glad he’d programmed in the auto pilot for D.C. as the need to turn around and forget what he’d learned, forget about Project Resurrection and the Ghost Protocol climbed strangling up his throat. 

“Hey.” he tried for bright, but was afraid it only came out miserable. “Why don’t you fly out to DC tonight? Have Pepper come with you in the jet. I have to get to a meeting that’s taken about three years to arrange, so I took a suit.” 

“I can just wait till you get home again, sugar.” Happy called something in the background and James laughed and the sound almost killed Tony. “What sorta meeting was so important it took three years to set up?”

“Nothing you should worry about.” Tony lied. “But it would be fun to have dinner in D.C. or something, right? I’d like to see you tonight.”  

James’s voice got soft, “Dunno how I feel about getting back into D.C. but I’d like to see you tonight too. You feeling better? Last night you were real tired.” 

“I’m feeling better.” Tony promised and he’d never lied so much in his life. “Let me know when you guys land and I’ll send a car for you. See you soon?” 

“See you real soon, sweet thing.”

******** 

From Rhodey: Pep says you’re in D.C.? If you aren’t sucking face with soldier boy, let’s get dinner. 

From Tony: Only if it’s one of those giant steak eating places.

From Rhodey: Tones, last time we ate at one of those I threw up for three days. 

From Tony: And you were gorgeous the entire time. 

From Rhodey: I hate you

From Tony: Smooches! 

It was so damn easy to lie over text message, maybe that was how Tony should handle every conversation from now until 100%. 

It was warm out, but Tony still wore a long sleeve to hide the handcuff on his wrist that attached to the briefcase at his side. Eventually--if he had time-- he was going to tap the tech into a watch that would form into a gauntlet and then a suit from there but for now he had to carry the admittedly stylishly packaged armor at his side. 

JARVIS was right, using the suit took more energy than the other ones simply because it assembled in place instead of using robotics to piece together around him, but it had been worth it to get to D.C. so quickly...

...and it would be worth it tonight if everything went right and he needed to leave. If everything fell into place the way it should, but the way Tony kept secretly hoping it wouldn’t, he would leave and not take anyone with him so the suit was perfect. 

Perfectly like a prison he kept willingly locking himself into and wasn’t that a piece of poetry worthy of writing down or at the very least making into a tragic movie or maybe he could request it got put in his biography because there should be at least one true thing amidst all the crap they were going to write about Tony Stark. 

At least one line should be truth, even if everything else was written by people who had never known him at all.

But he shouldn’t think about that. Not yet. Not at only seventy percent, he had another ten maybe fifteen percent before he had to think about a biography, right? 

Right? 

Christ, it was getting hard to think. 

The SHIELD headquarters were ostentatious and ugly, an eyesore at the banks of the river and a clear warning to anyone who thought to look twice at the city and dare to take a shot. The Pentagon might house the dressed up generals who gave out orders, but SHIELD was the real power behind the United States Government right now. 

The ugly building housed all the best minds, all the best weaponry, and spoke of a clearly visible statement Director Fury and Secretary Pierce had been less and less subtle about in the past few years-- Fuck. Off. America is done playing nice.

Not that Tony blamed them for being so blatantly bold. There was no need to be subtle when there was an actual legendary super soldier leading the charge to protect America’s interests both at home and abroad, right? 

Tony and Fury met in a little cafe along the river, the eatery quiet and unobtrusive in a way that was meant to be as visibly invisible as possible. There was nothing particularly interesting about the staff or their uniforms, the menu didn’t boast anything that would garner extra attention, there was never a chalkboard out front with a gimmick or sale to draw pedestrians in to try a daily special. 

It was the sort of cafe someone either went to as a habit, or never even noticed on their commute and it was exactly the sort of cafe where Nick Fury preferred to get his tuna melt sandwich. 

“Well this is quaint and terrible.” Tony sat down across from Fury with suitcase settled between his feet and sunglasses firmly on his face. “What happened to high profile business meetings at steakhouses, or at the very least good greasy pizza? And are you eating a tuna melt? With a fork?” 

“Contrary to what you might believe, my Ma didn’t raise a heathen.” Fury was a sight to behold in his trademark trench coat, intimidating eye patch and somehow more intimidating single eye, a napkin tucked neatly at his collar and a knife and fork held daintily to cut his sandwich into bite sized pieces. “And this isn’t as good as hers used to be, but it does just fine for our conversation today.” 

“Alright then.” Tony motioned to the waiter, and pointed towards Fury’s plate. “Could I have the same thing please? Make mine with pickles.” 

“You’re pushing it.” Fury warned. “You don’t disrespect a sandwich by putting pickles on it.”  

“Ma’am, would you make that extra pickles please?” 

“Damn you, Stark.” 

“Don’t tell me how to eat a sandwich and I won’t tell you to not do all of--” Tony made a vague motion to encompass all of Fury’s look. “--all of this. You look like the Grim Reaper.” 

“And you look like a man the Grim Reaper isn’t too far from visiting.” Fury stabbed his fork at Tony bluntly. “Lookin’ like chicken shit these days, Stark. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing that matters.” Tony waved off the Director’s sarcastic concern. “I need to talk to you about two things and then we can move on.” 

The Director made a ‘go ahead’ motion and went back to eating. Tony watched the knife and fork dissection of a perfectly respectable tuna melt for a moment and then stated, “I don’t trust Pierce. I went to his party a few weeks ago and got a real sketchy vibe from him.” 

“Uh-huh.” Fury nodded. “And?” 

“And since you have the whole all seeing eye thing going on, I thought you’d want to know.” Tony smiled up at the waitress when she brought him the sandwich, and with eyes firmly on Fury, took a huge bite and crunched deliberately through the pickles. “How do you feel about him lately?” 

“I feel like the world’s most reckless billionaire should be more concerned about the effects all that poisoning is having on your complexion and less about what those of us in trench coats are doing.” Fury wiped his mouth and pointed over his shoulder to someone Tony couldn’t see. “Brace yourself, Stark.” 

“Brace myself for wha---OW!” Tony jumped when a needle jammed into his neck, delivered courtesy of one rather spandexy clad Natalie Rushman. “Christ! Natalie, what the fuck!?” 

“I forgot you still think her name is Natalie.” Fury pushed his plate away and then dragged a chair over for the redhead. “Tony Stark, meet Natasha Romanov. Former KGB agent, former Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, former traitor to that particular country and defector to this one, and currently my favorite agent at SHIELD.” 

Tony rubbed at his neck a few times and scowled at Fury, then over at Natalie/Natasha. “Former KGB? That was dismantled in ‘91, and you’re only twenty four. Nice try.” 

“You do pass for a very convincing twenty four, Tasha.” Fury took a sip of his water. “In fact Mr. Stark, Natasha here is an absolute beauty at the ripe old age of--” 

“--you tell him I’m a day over thirty and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Natasha said coolly, and Tony blanched but Fury didn’t so much as blink. “Tony, I just gave you a shot of lithium dioxide. It’s not going to solve anything with the palladium, but it’s going to temporarily slow down the effects so you can focus. I know you’ve been struggling with it for a while, there’s no other way to explain how scattered you’ve been.” 

“First you stab me, then you insult me? You are fired.” Tony breathed in slow and purposeful, then out again when his headache started to ease thanks to the hypodermic hit to the neck. “Warn a fella before you shank him, is this foreplay to you scary spandex types?” 

Natasha gave him one of those always consistently enigmatic smirks and Tony accused, “How’d you get here so fast? Pretty sure Pepper told me you two were shopping today. In fact, I’m pretty sure she took the jet to Vegas just to spend a gross amount of money.” 

“The moment you hung up with Director Fury I excused myself from Ms. Potts and headed towards D.C from Vegas.” Natasha held up her hand to stop the next words from Tony. “And yes, I know there’s no civilian aircraft that could possibly get me to D.C. faster than your suit would, but you left an hour or so after me and also, as everyone is now aware, I am not a civilian.” 

Still literally and figuratively wounded from the jab to the neck, Tony only huffed at the redhead and went back to eating because honestly, a new secretary turning out to be a secret spy wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened. At least she was on their side, right? Later Tony could get a little hysterical about having a former KGB agent helping him pick out ties, but for right now, he had other things on his mind. 

“Alright then. Ms. Romanov.  How do you feel about Secretary Pierce?”  

“I don’t think that’s the question you’ve come to ask.” Natasha deflected, green eyes glittering curiously. “So ask the other one.” 

“Okay I will.” Tony put his sandwich down and pleated the napkin between his fingers until it tore. “How long have the two of you known the hundred year old prisoner of war Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was camping out in my house in Malibu?”

“If it makes you feel any better?” Director Fury shrugged. “We just thought he was the Winter Soldier. Wasn’t one hundred percent on the Barnes angle until recently.” 

“The Winter Soldier.” Tony repeated, and this time his mind snapped into place with out the stuttered click click click of trying to process. It was almost like being him again and even though Tony knew the lithium oxide was a poison all in itself, he was already wondering how many shots of it he could take to remain lucid up until the end. “Ghost assassin from the sixties and seventies, silver arm, once thought to be Steve Rogers risen from the ice and back to seek revenge. It was James, instead. Product of Hydra experimentation, amiright?” 

“And then some.” Fury nodded.  “When Project Resurrection came to be and the Captain woke up, he asked for his best pal Bucky and then his best gal Peggy in exactly that order. SHIELD had been aware of the Winter Soldier for decades, but we couldn’t have imagined the connection to the missing Sergeant Barnes. The Captain saw a surveillance photo, said he’d recognize that scowl anywhere, and went off half feral trying to track him down.” 

“Half-feral.” Tony glanced between the two of them. “Captain America. Are you serious?” 

“I spent almost two years at his side.” Natasha spoke up. “Half feral is an understatement. I’ve never seen a man so determined to burn the world down if it meant finding his friend.” 

“Two years.” Fury echoed. “And then just over a year ago, a few months before Stane engineered your trip to Afghanistan, the Winter Soldier dropped off the map. Guess Hydra got tired of having their spots blown to shit or something like that, decided to cut their losses and run.” 

Tony only blinked and Fury explained, “Turns out the Captain isn’t exactly the aw shucks good ol boy those posters made him out to be. Anything that stood in the way of finding his Bucky went up in flames, and the man didn’t care if anyone was left inside. On more than one occassion, Romanov went into the rubble herself because the Captain wouldn’t do it. It was a wasted effort though, there were never any survivors.”

Tony looked around and then lowered his voice. “Captain America let people die like that?” 

“Not the aw shucks good ol boy we all thought.” The Director repeated. “Never seen a man so angry in my life when we lost the Soldier. Definitely never could have predicted you’d show up with him as your date at a few high profile event. I see a lot.” Fury pointed to his one good eye. “But even I didn’t see that coming.” 

“Does the Captain know about James?” 

“We thought it was best to feel out the situation and see if we were dealing with the Winter Soldier or if we were actually seeing Sergeant Barnes.” Fury hedged. “Wanted to be sure we weren’t going to walk into a situation with a still activated super assassin when from all appearances, he’s just a nice kid with some memory loss situations. Captain Rogers isn’t the sort to knock and ask to come in, he would have brought that fancy Malibu house of yours down into the ocean trying to get his friend.” 

“That seems a little over the top, but--” 

“--but you’ve never been seventy years out of your own time looking for the one person in the world who can understand what you’ve been through.” Natasha interrupted. “I’m telling you, there isn’t anything that would stop the Captain from trying to get to his Bucky.” 

“His Bucky.” Tony echoed faintly. “Is that so?” 

“I’ve been watching James for several weeks now.” Natasha’s voice dipped in sympathy when Tony’s face flickered with misery. I don’t think he remembers anything about his time as the Winter Soldier, but you’re closer to him. What do you think? Do you think he knows who he was?” 

“No way.” Tony denied tiredly. “James doesn’t know anything. Not his last name, nothing about technology or recent history. He panicked about using too many eggs the other day and now that I know what I still can’t fucking believe I know... it makes sense. In some weird way, everything I know about James makes perfect sense now.” 

“So Sergeant Barnes doesn’t remember anything before he showed up in D.C.?” 

“Nothing at all.” Tony said adamantly. “He remembers waking up beneath a bridge and then everything’s a blur for a while and he’s not sure how much time passed. He thinks he lived a year in D.C. before meeting me, but he doesn’t know anything beyond that.” 

“That could be for the best.” Natasha muttered, and Fury nodded. 

“Well you can be sure we will be keeping an eye on the situation.” the waitress came by for the plates and Fury waited until she was gone before mentioning oh so casually, “I have something that belongs to you, by the way. Your dad left it in storage along with instructions to give it to you when you were ready.” 

“I have everything I want of Howard’s and none of it’s worth anything at all.” Tony shook his head. “Forget about it, I want to meet the Captain.”

“You’re going to want this.” Fury countered, and pulled up a photo on his phone. “The real thing is about ten times heavier than anything I’d ever want to life, but take a look at it anyway.” 

“I’ve seen this.” Tony barely glanced at the picture. “It’s Dad’s diorama model of the Stark Expo. I used to race my cars up and down the roads until he screamed at me to stop. Why would I want a giant piece of cardboard that holds so many shitty memories for me?” 

“I don’t know why you want it.” Fury put his phone away again. “And I don’t know why Howard wanted you to have it. Something about how you’d see the design when no one else could, and how he wouldn’t ever have access to the tools necessary to make it a reality, but you’d probably be the one to invent the technology to make it happen.”

“That’s nice.” Tony pulled out a couple twenties and dropped them on the table to cover the bill. “Put it in the mail and I’ll open it when I get back to Malibu. I’m feeling normal for the first time since Afghanistan and I’m not going to waste it on some homework from beyond the grave. Take me to see the Captain.” 

“He’s going to be cranky.” Fury tried one last time to stall the stubborn billionaire. “He doesn’t really sleep much, and since losing track of the Soldier, I don’t think he sleeps more than a few hours a week. Maybe you don’t show up as your patented brand of asshole, huh?” 

“I do what I want.” Tony stood up and patted the Director on the shoulder. “I’ll see you and Mrs. Super Spy later on. We should talk about Pierce.” 

“I know what you’re doing Stark.” Fury said then, and Tony paused. “You’re getting everything set up so when that poison kills you off, your boytoy is set with someone he knows and loves.” 

“Oh, you think so?” 

“I’d say it’s admirable, but really I think it’s cowardly.” Fury shrugged. “You’re doing all this without even trying to fight, without figuring out a way to beat it. Gonna sign ye olde master assassin over to the Man with a Plan and then jet off somewhere dramatic to die. Cowardly way out.” 

“I’ve exhausted all my options.” Tony said flatly. “I’ve tried everything over and over and nothing works. Now my option is to make sure the people I care about can keep on going with out me. How is that cowardly?” 

“This might shock you, but the world will keep turning without Tony Stark in it.” the Director retorted, and Tony shot back, “Yeah well, at least this way it keeps turning with my loved ones well taken care of. Send the address to my phone please, I’ve got a star spangled super soldier to meet.” 

Natasha sent a text with directions to Tony’s phone, and after Tony had stalked out and hailed a cab, she turned to ask Fury, “Why does he want to talk about Pierce?” 

“Don’t you worry about Pierce.”

“Director--” 

“Ms. Romanoff, I am already dealing with Secretary Pierce. Don’t you worry.” 

“Do you really think he’s being cowardly?” 

“I think if Tony Stark wasn’t so tired of living in pain, he’d realize he could just invent something new to cure himself.” Fury stated. “I watched his dad create scientific miracles out of every day things. Watched his Auntie Peggy create unbreakable codes based on her knitting patterns. He’s been so obsessed with being Iron Man that he’s forgotten he’s Tony Stark. If anyone can fix what is literally killing them, its a Stark. Hell, he did it once in a cave with a box of scraps. He should damn well be able to do it in a state of the art lab.” 

Natasha’s lips tipped up at the corner. “You like him.” 

“I think he’s a spoiled brat with a small man complex.” Fury picked up the dessert menu. “But I think our world is a lot better off with him in it, so yeah. I’d appreciate if he didn't keel over and die.” 

“You like him.” 

“You’re pushing it, Romanov.” 

*************

*************

It was fifteen minutes to a low rise apartment building, three flights up stairs and then down a long hallway until Tony could raise his hand and knock at the door of a piece of American history

Two knocks and then three more just because Tony was impatient even on his best days and today was not one of his best days. 

Besides, when else would he have the chance annoy an actual living Smithsonian relic by knocking too many times at their--

“Can I help you?” The door swung open to Big and Blond and Patriotic, deep blue eyes and a square jaw, ruggedly handsome in a way that the old posters and pictures had never come close to capturing, and the sort of bulging All American Muscles that belonged on a Lumberjack’s Weekly pin up calendar.

Holy Spangles, Batman. Tony thought, and then grinned internally because that hit to the neck might have hurt but at least it had given him back Grade-A witty one liners. Thank you, Ms. Rushman-Romanov. 

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he finally dragged his eyes away from the muscles and up to the piercing gaze. “It's nice to officially meet you. Name’s Tony Stark, long time fan, first time fanboy. How are you?” 

“Tony Stark.” Captain Rogers extended a hand big enough to cover Tony’s entire face. “Howard’s boy, isn’t that right? Director Fury has mentioned you a few times. Figures you’d know about me being awake, though I’m a little surprised it took you this long to track me down. Howard wasn’t exactly the patient, subtle type and Fury made it seem like you inherited all those qualities as well.” 

Tony blinked, and Captain Rogers grimaced. “Ah. Sorry. That came out worse than I intended. I’ve never been quite as charming as those old movies like to pretend I was.” 

“No that’s--” Tony blinked again. “It’s fine. It’s actually a little hilarious-- um--” 

“I was real sorry to hear about your parents passing.” The Captain’s blue eyes dimmed in sympathy. “I didn’t know your Ma, but despite me and Howard’s differences, we worked together for several years. He was a good man.” 

“He was an asshole even on his best days.” Tony finally found his words, and offered a smile to his childhood nemesis hero. “But that doesn’t change the good work he did, so thanks. And yes, I inherited all of his less than charming traits and created a few more of my own which is why I’ve known about you and Project Resurrection for a few years now but just couldn't muster the interest to give a damn.” 

“Any by the way, if you were a brunette, I’d be charming your pants off.” Tony winked because he couldn’t stop himself from flirting with an American icon. “But you’re blond, so consider yourself safe from my efforts. That and it’s hard to think sexy thoughts about the literal embodiment of the American flag.” 

Good God, even the Captain’s laugh was patriotic, head thrown back and a hand over his heart like he was pledging allegiance to hilarity and Tony looked away to hide an answering grin. Shit, he didn’t want to like Steve Rogers, he had spent his entire life trying to measure up to the bastard, he didn’t want to be making friends when they had more important things to talk about.

“If it makes you feel any better?” Captain Rogers was still cheesing a grin. “Under all that patriotism I’m just a loudmouth Brooklyn kid with a big mouth and not a single shred of self preservation.” 

“Eh.” Tony made a show of shrugging. “You’re still blond. I tend to prefer them brunette--” 

--he hesitated, then pulled out the picture of he and James together at the redwoods. “--And smolderingly intense in a scary ex soldier sort of way. You know the type?” 

All laughter fell away in an instant, the surprisingly easy conversation Tony hadn’t expected to find with Captain Rogers ground to a halt, the smile on the big blond’s face wiped away as quickly as it had appeared. 

“I took that in the redwoods last week.” Tony actually took a step backwards when powerful shoulders squared up and one of those massive hands closed into a fist. “Me and James-- we’ve been living together the last couple months. Figured it’s high time you and he got together again, you know?” 

“James.” The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Not Bucky. He goes by James now?” 

“James is the only name he knows.” Tony watched him carefully for any sign of what might be rage, but there was only heartbreak on the rugged features. “We’ve been looking for answers into his past, but it wasn’t until early this morning I came across a family link and traced it backwards. You can bet I was surprised as hell to find myself looking at a picture of you two when the facial recognition software finally pinged him.” 

“I see.” The picture shook in the Captain’s fingers and nearly tore between his grip. “Mr. Stark--”

“Call me Tony.” 

“Tony. I think you’d better come inside.” 

****************

The apartment housing the Greatest American Soldier was sparse to the point of being bare, clean to the point of being sterile, and warm enough that Tony broke into a sweat just walking through the door. 

“Sheesh, Captain.” Tony undid a few buttons at his collar. “Tropical, much?” 

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.” The Captain really was massive, had to turn sideways to get down the narrow hall and to the thermometer. “I uh-- I’m always cold, you know?” 

Tony waited with a raised eyebrow and Captain Rogers pursed his lips, shoved both hands into his pockets self consciously. “I did seventy years in the ice, Tony. That’s the sort of chill that gets into your bones. Into your soul. I’m always cold. Can’t seem to shake it.”  

“I can fix that.” Tony spoke before thinking, the words eerily similar to his very first thought about James. Was it the super soldier thing that drove him to offer help? Or just the countdown and toxicity monitor and desperately tallying marks on the good karma side so maybe it would get him into heaven? 

“I can fix that.” he said again. “I’d think a super soldier would run hot because of your metabolism, so the cold is probably psychosomatic and a weighted blanket or even a sweater with heavier threads might take care of it. People equate weight with warmth, and being covered with being safe so if you let me get some sizes I could have my AI run some programs and figure out a material that could--” 

He stopped when the big blond just looked at him. “Sorry, Captain. I tend to ramble. Alot.” 

“Call me Steve.” the Captain went for some water and handed a bottle to Tony, then sat down in a nearby chair and clasped his hands between his knees. “And you know, your Dad did that too? He’d get an idea and talk for an hour and you’d start the conversation not even knowing you needed the thing he ended up handing you when he was finished.”

“Sounds like Dad.” Tony agreed. “Guess I did inherit all his annoying habits.” 

“You must get your looks from your Ma, then.” Steve said casually, and when Tony about fell out of his chair in surprise, he grinned. “Oh no, not for me. I mean sure, I can appreciate a good lookin’ fella just as much as the next guy, but I used to tell Buck if he got together with Howard--” 

“I might actually throw up if you finish that sentence.” 

“--then we could double date, but he said he’d sooner kiss Dugan.” he finished and Tony breathed out noisily in relief. “If he likes you, you must look like your Ma. Buck couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room as Howard.” 

And then almost awkwardly, “No offense meant.” 

“None taken, most days I couldn’t handle it either.” Tony rolled the water bottle between his palms. “So um, how are you adjusting to life in the twenty first--” 

“Tell me about Bucky.” Steve interrupted and Tony’s mouth clicked shut. “I wanna know everything. Where did you find him? How did you find him? Does he know who he is? Who I am? Does he know about--” 

He clenched his jaw. “--does he remember being the Winter Soldier?” 

“Captain.” Tony began slowly, but Steve cut him off again, “It’s just Steve, Tony. Captain Rogers, Captain America, that’s not who I am. I’m Steve. Call me Steve.” 

“Steve.” he started again. “James--er, Bucky-- and I met a few months ago in a diner right here in D.C. I don’t know if you watch the news at all, but I was mid Senate meeting and mid nervous break down, apparently he was just there having breakfast. I saw he was missing an arm--” 

“--his left arm?” 

“--his left arm.” Tony nodded. “And since I have a weird assortment of various robotic arm pieces laying around the house, I told him I could build him a new one. I gave him a whole spiel about wanting to do some good and that he didn’t have to take me up on the offer but he told me--” 

“--that you got a pretty smile.” Steve interjected. “Yeah, you’re just his type. Dark hair, pretty eyes, big smile. Just his type.” 

The simple statement from the soldier warmed Tony clear down to his heart, and he ducked his head to hide a barely there flush. “Uh, anyway. He came home to Malibu with me and we’ve been there ever since. He’s getting better. No more panic attacks and his Brooklyn accent comes out more every day and um--” 

It felt awkward talking to a total stranger about his boyfriend--partner? He was too old to call someone a boyfriend, right? 

It felt more awkward talking to a total stranger that wasn’t really a total stranger considering how Tony knew everything everything about Steve Rogers and Howard had literally helped create the soldier. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who actually knew James Bucky better than Tony could ever hope to. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who knew Bucky better than Tony did and would be around at Bucky’s side after Tony--

--after Tony--

“--sometimes I think he’s remembering things, but then I don’t really know.” he finished lamely. “Captain, er Steve. I’ll be honest, it seems weird to tell you about your best friend. I can tell you that he doesn’t have nightmares anymore and that he hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks. He likes Rocky Road ice cream and looks great in the color red and when he calls me sweet thing I actually melt a little bit inside. What else do you want to know?” 

“I just want to know if he’s okay.” Steve said softly, softly, spread his hands helplessly and made those All American baby blues as heartbreakingly earnest as possible. “Tony, I woke up from the ice and found a picture of the Winter Soldier and spent the next two years trying to figure out what the hell had happened to my best pal. How did he survive the fall? Who captured him? What have they been doing with him? To him?” 

The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Does he-- does he smile? Do you make him smile? Or is he real quiet now? Did they ruin him? Break him?” 

Steve got to his feet to pace, rubbing his hands down his thighs in agitation. “I’ve read all the Winter Soldier files, Tony. I know what they did to him. You know they-- they didn’t do that stuff to me. Howard juiced me up and sent me out the door but Bucky? He was always a good soldier but there’s a lot of steps between a good soldier and a master assassin. What they did to him to make him into the Soldier…” 

His steps stuttered, faltered, and when Steve turned around to pin Tony with a look, his jaw was set stubbornly. “Tell me how he really is. Did they break him? Is he even Bucky anymore?” 

“I don’t know if he’s Bucky anymore.” Tony said slowly, honestly. “But I know he’s James, and he’s a good man. Not broken. Definitely hurt, but not broken. He’s-- I think he’s okay, Captain. Or at least he’s getting better.” 

“Okay.” Steve dropped back down onto the chair and the springs groaned under his weight. “Okay okay okay. Have you done any research on the Winter Soldier? About what he did?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t.” That super soldier strength showed up when the arms of the chair splintered beneath Steve’s fingers. “Tony, for your own sake. Don’t. I haven’t read the mission files because it makes me sick to my stomach but I saw enough of what they did to him to know there can’t be anything good in the other ones.” 

Tony’s whole body went cold, horror stricken and wanting to scream thinking about his soldier, his Brooklyn being hurt for however long he’d been captive as the Winter Soldier. “What they did to him?” 

“Experiments.” Steve muttered hoarsely. “Testing his strength, his healing factor. Whatever super juice they gave him, they had to make sure it worked so they experimented. Broke major bones to time how long it took to heal up again. Put bullets close to major arteries wondering if he’d bleed out. Made him run until he was vomiting and couldn’t take another step to check his endurance.” 

“Shit.” 

“They wiped his mind after every mission.” the Captain continued miserably. “Got him to the point where all he could do was carry out orders. That’s not even human, they took his soul Tony. My best friend and they took his soul. Wiped it away every time they hooked him up to that damn chair--” 

“Chair?” 

“--it had straps.” Steve made a motion and Tony’s heart sank, then sank further still when he added, “I crashed a set up once and it was this monstrous chair. Straps and hooks and this helmet thing that went down over his head to fry his brain.” 

“What--” Tony wet his lips, flashes of that first awful panic attack hitting him like a punch to the stomach. “-- What did you do to the chair?” 

“Broke it apart with my bare hands and then snapped some bad guy’s femur just because I wasn’t done breaking things.” Steve said coldly, calmly. “I can’t read the mission files, not after seeing that. I don’t think you should read them either. Buck deserves to have people who look at him and don’t see everything he did as the Soldier. He deserves to be loved by people who just see him.” 

“Yeah, I--” Tony dug his fingers into his knees and bit back a heartbroken noise. “Yeah, he does. So what did you do with the data? It can’t just be out there, that’s not--” 

Even now, his brain was shifting into gear, trying to figure out the next step, trying to figure out what he could do to fix what had happened with James or how he could make sure it never came back to ruin his soldier’s new life. “--it can’t be out there for someone else to find. What did you do with it?” 

“Natasha dumped it all.” The Captain informed him. “Burned it, erased it, whatever she does. I’m not really up on all the tech of this century yet. But she swore it was gone, and that’s all I care about.” 

“You trust her?” 

“...I do.” Steve’s smile was almost… melancholy. Almost lonely. “Most people wouldn’t, but she hasn’t lied to me once so I have no reason to think she would about this.” 

“Alright.” It was a relief to know the Winter Soldier’s actions weren’t out there for anyone to find, a relief to know someone else was looking out for James the same way Tony wanted to. “That’s-- that’s good. If Captain America can trust her with that, I can trust her too.” 

“Yeah.” Steve screwed his eyes shut tight and pushed out a long breath. “Tony um-- can I see him? Feels weird to ask permission to see my own best friend, but I think you know him better than I do at this point. Can I see him? Will you bring him back to D.C., or could I come with you to Malibu? I searched for him for so long, Tony. The canyon below the train-- I spent days there. Days in the snow trying to find him, and I spent the first years waking up trying to find him… can I see him?” 

Quieter, almost afraid, “Do you think he’ll know me?” 

“I don’t know.” Tony said honestly, and Steve’s shoulders hunched in like the words physically hurt. “But they should be landing here in D.C. in a few hours and I already sent him this address.” 

“Seriously?” Steve’s head snapped up. “You would-- you didn’t even know me. You told him to come here when you hadn’t met me yet?” 

“You’re Captain America.” Tony shrugged carelessly, shrugged like his heart wasn’t tearing in two right there in his chest as everything he’d feared started falling into place. This was the right decision but it hurt and his heart could have collapsed under the strain. “And he’s Sergeant Barnes. There’s no question you two should be spending time together, in fact, I’m probably just in the way. I’ll bring him in and as soon as I know James is okay, I’ll leave you in peace and let you get reacquainted.

“That’s amazing.” Steve lit up with a mega watt grin. “Tony, thank you. Thank you. You’re giving me a piece of my life back, I swear. I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.” 

“Just...take care of him.” 

“I promise I will.” the Captain swore. “I promise. I’ll help him readjust to life and we’ll figure out… I dunno. Netflix together? I’ll help him Tony, I will.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Tony tried for a smile that didn’t feel like it was crumbling at the edges. “Now. Are you a enough of a rebel to have a beer in this place while we wait? Or still too good ol’ boy for that?” 

“Are you kidding?” Steve laughed again, and yep, Tony would have been seeing stars and stripes if he hadn’t been blinking back tears. “Good beer is the best part of this century! And I don’t get drunk, so I’ve been trying them all! Come on and pick one out!” 

“Picking out a beer with Captain America.” Tony struggled to his feet with a hand over his chest and followed the blond to the tiny kitchen. “How could anyone pass that up?” 

“Tony!” Steve sounded immeasurably lighter, the smile on his face evident in his voice as he called, “Does Bucky ever listen to music anymore? Have you ever heard of the Andrews Sisters? We heard them sing the night he shipped out for the war, this was his favorite song!” 

Before Tony could object or protest or fall to his knees and beg for mercy because he didn’t think he could take another second of this self inflicted torture, the all too familiar beginning notes of ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ floated through the apartment and everything got worse.

“Me and Pegs used to dance to this.” Steve tossed Tony a beer he could only barely catch. “She made Buck dance too even though he didn’t have any interest in the other dames. She always said one day he’d find a fella to dance with too, have you guys danced together yet?” 

“Once.” Tony said faintly. “Just uh-- just the once.” 

He closed his eyes when the song got to the chorus, when the beat changed and he could almost feel James pulling him in closer like he’d done that night in the lab when everything changed between them. 

“...just the once.” 

**************

**************

“Hey babydoll.” James was confused when he finally made it up to the apartment door, confused and stiff when he bent to give Tony a kiss hello. “This is uh--” he cleared his throat. “Don’t like being back here, Tony. D.C. doesn’t have any good memories for me. I didn’t want to come.” 

“I know.” Tony stood on his toes to chase one more kiss, gratified when James automatically wound an arm at his waist to hold him. “And I’m sorry but this is important, alright? What we’re doing here is important.” 

“Important like the way Pepper’s fancy parties are important?” James teased halfheartedly, and tugged at Tony’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. I’m a real big fan of the way you’ve blown off work the last few weeks to spend time with me, we should keep doing that.”

“James.” Tony tried for words and failed, squeezed at James’s fingers and tried again, “I’ve got someone you should meet. Re-meet. Someone you used to know and I think it’s important you see him again. I think he can fill in a lot more blanks, help you out a lot more than I can, alright?” 

“I don’t want anyone helping me but you.” James glanced around the hallway, glanced at the door and out the far window, then back down at Tony, shoulders set uncomfortably tense and jaw clenched. “Tony, can we go? Something feels weird here, I don’t like it.” 

“It will feel better in a few minutes.” Tony promised. “Just um-- be brave, Brooklyn. Okay?” 

“Brave? Tony, I’m telling you this don’t feel right, I don’t want to be--” 

Tony turned the knob and shoved the door open before James could finish the sentence, pushed the soldier through into the living room and then hung back to just watch. 

Be brave, Brooklyn. 

“Bucky.” Steve stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets and chin ducked like he was trying to look small, the unmistakable shield sat prominently on one of the chairs, that old picture of he and James from the Smithsonian propped up on the table. 

“Holy shit.” The Captain choked out a strangled sort of laugh and freed his hands to run them both through his hair, tugging at the strands and then rubbing at his eyes as they filled with tears. “Bucky. It’s really you.” 

James narrowed his eyes at the big blond, at the picture and at the shield, then looked back at Tony in confusion. 

“Bucky? Who the hell is--” 

Click click click. 

“I had ‘em on the ropes.” 

“Yeah Stevie, sure you did.” 

Click click click.  

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” 

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” 

Click click click. 

“You’re keeping the suit, right?

Click Click Click

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

“I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

Click click click.

I know him.

Stevie.

“...Stevie?” 

The Captain covered the room in two big steps and James met him in the middle for a bone crushing, desperate hug. James’s legs crumpled and Steve caught him halfway down, Captain America crying unashamed tears and swearing under his breath as he smoothed Jame’s hair back from his face to get a good look at him.

“Stevie?”

“Christ, Bucky I can’t believe I finally found you. I finally found you and I’m never gonna let anything happen to you again, I swear it. I swear it.” ----

--- Tony closed the door to the apartment and walked alone down the hallway, took the stairs up to the roof and stood for a long time looking over the city, over the monuments in the distance and the barest glimmer of blue from the river. 

His phone rang and it was James but Tony ignored it so he could undo the latches on the briefcase suit and step into the boots, shivering as the armor climbed his body and encased him in cold metal before it warmed to his temperature. 

His phone rang and it was James, and the picture on the screen was of them at the redwoods, the name beneath “Sergeant Barnes” because already James wasn’t James anymore, he was Sergeant Barnes, he was Bucky. 

His phone rang and it was James and JARVIS intoned, “Sir, it’s Sergeant Barnes calling.” 

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered and the call shut down as the suit powered up. 

“May I remind you sir that extended use of this suit specifically strains--” 

“I remember.” Tony closed his eyes for a minute. “Send a message to Rhodey? Tell him I won’t make dinner tonight. He won’t be surprised, I’ve missed at least a hundred dinners. Call Pep and remind her that I owe her something expensive and sparkly and to pick out whatever she’d like.” 

“...Yes sir.” 

“JARVIS.” Tony’s chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “Enable Ghost Protocol.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Just like we talked about.” Tony was shaking inside the suit, grateful for the exoskeleton that kept him on his feet. “I won’t let this be catastrophic and I-- I can’t watch while James realizes he doesn’t need me anymore. Start the process now.” 

In the lab in Malibu, lights in the lab started to dim and the myriad of suits Tony had worked on for months drew back into the walls. The lock codes blinking on each panel changed from Tony’s preferences to ones coded to Honeybear, to Rhodey, to Sourpatch and Platypus, on and on the list went. 

Computer screens flickered as dozens of letters went out to various charities and foundations, notifications of soon-to-be-arriving checks meant for specific projects that desperately needed funded. Signed paperwork irrevocably keeping Pepper as CEO and turning over any stock held by Tony Stark to her after a death certificate was produced was sent off to the proper compliance departments to make sure everything was legal. 

A program was uploaded into Dum-E’s limited software that would allow the robot to function a bit safer and up it’s interaction levels to ones that would make the kiddos in the Children’s Wing at the Cancer Center smile and laugh whenever it rolled through the halls. 

Back in Washington, JARVIS’s comforting monotone listed off each point of Ghost Protocol as it was engaged and completed, and the phone rang as Sergeant Barnes tried again and again and again. 

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered through a sheen of tears, and the call went silent as the Iron Man armor took off from the roof and soared into the darkening sky, punching through the atmosphere and heading for the stars. 

This was the right decision.

Send it to voicemail. 

73%

***************

Chapter Notes: 

Did you cry? I cried. 

I love Steve in this verse. The “First Winteriron, then Steve comes Along” dynamic is something I’ve never written, and I’ve also never written Fresh from the Freezer Steve and I sort of love him?? 

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

***************

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