#I will also be riding the regret of not getting his number god DAMMIT

[genderfreakxx]

Anyway a really fucken handsome dude bought me a beer at a concert today so I’m gonna be riding that high for the rest of the year

[tinyboxxtink]

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 4*

If anyone ever wants me to put the English translations of the Spanish I use in here, please let me know.

Or are you all just googling them?😂

Tag List:

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@wanniiieeee

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

“What the hell did he want?” 

Beto’s voice startled you from behind. 

“Beto! Language!” You scolded him, trying to shake off the fear in your voice.

“Whatever, I think we have bigger problems,” He rolled his eyes.

“What did he want?” he pressed you. 

“Nothing! Just...nothing,” you waved it off.

“It wasn’t nothing-- it was about that abogado, wasn’t it?”

“Rafael? Why would the Diablos hate Rafael?” Chloe chimed in.

“Because he sent one of them away for a very long time,”  Beto answered her.

“Yay! I knew he was a good guy!” 

“Yeah he won’t be, if he gets us killed,”

“BETO!” You threw your hands over Chloe’s ears. “Stop. You’re going to scare her,”

“Well she should be scared, if you’re willing to risk our lives because some abogado made goo goo eyes at you!” 

“That is NOT true, and you know it,” you snapped.

“Yeah Rafael is going to help us get Mami and Papi back, Beto!” Chloe yelled, making you remove your hands. 

“You can hear us?”  You asked, she nodded. 

“What do you want Chloe, do you want mami and papi back or do you want your life?” 

“BETO, Seriously,” You hit him on the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him Chlo, he’s being dramatic,” Yaz finally piped up.

“I swear it’s like you are a woman sometimes,” She added.

“Well look what I live with!” He gestured to all three of you. “And I’m NOT being dramatic,”

“YES, you are,” You grabbed a mop and a bucket.

“Nobody is hurting us, and we’re not talking about it anymore,” You warned him as you put the mop in his hands.

“Chloe, Yaz-- wipe down the counters and windows for me, yeah?” You handed them two rags as they begrudgingly agreed. 

“Ok I’ll be right back-- ASH!” You called over to Ash at the hostess stand, she was on her phone per usual.

“Watch them for me,” You motioned between the three of your siblings.

“Watch them? You gonna start paying me for babysitting too?!” She yelled back. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, I'm 15! I’m a man!”

“Yeah a man CHILD,” Yaz laughed.

“I’ll show you man child--” Betro grabbed the mop and put it up to Yaz’s face, making her scream in disgust. 

“Ewwwww! Beto!!” She screamed as Beto chased her with the mop.

“See what I mean?”  You put your hands together in a begging stance.

“Five minutes,” She rolled her eyes.

“Thank you!”

-------

You went to the back, dialing Rafael’s number.

“That was fast,” You heard him smile through the phone.

“H-How did you know it was me?” 

“Call it lawyer’s intuition,” 

“Yeah well apparently your intuition didn't think about hanging around a Diablo’s territory,”

“What?” 

“They came in here after you left,” 

“What did they say?”

“They know you got one of them sent away,” 

“Shit--I should’ve figured that. After I gave Maria that money it figures she probably went to a Diablo dealer--” 

“Wait, did you just say you gave her the money?” 

“Yeah…” 

“You gave Ash’s mom money to go kill herself?”

“I didn’t-- it wasn’t like that!” He was frantic.

“Then how was it, counselor?” 

“I...I wanted her to calm down, so that she would be able to testify. I just wanted her to be calm. I didn’t...I didn’t think…she’d...” He trailed off, on the verge of tears.

“But she did,” You scoffed. 

“Look don’t you think I carry that around with me every day? You know that’s why I give Ash the money I give her! I thought you said she told you that,” He replied angrily.

“No, she told me that you knew who gave her the money. I don’t think she knows you’re actually the one who killed her,” 

“I didn’t kill her!” 

“Yeah you just gave her money to do it herself,” 

“Did you call me just to guilt me about the biggest mistake I’ve ever made?” He gruffed.

“No…” you sighed. “I’m sorry…” You felt a pang of guilt; you knew he was a good guy, he probably felt guilty about Ash’s mom every day and here you were shoving it in his face.

“I’m just scared,” You bit your lip.

“Did he threaten you?” 

“No, he offered for all of us to go out for some coffee later-- OF COURSE he threatened me!” You threw your hands up as it was totally obvious.

“Dammit, I’m--I’m sorry, Y/N,” He sighed. “I should’ve thought about that when Ash invited me to dinner at your place,” You could picture him pacing in his office.

“So you regret coming down here?” You asked softly.

“No! Not at all. Do...do you regret meeting me?” You could hear the fear in his voice.

“No!” You immediately answered, but then paused. “I mean, not really,” 

“If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have a target on your back right now,” 

“Oh please Rafael, you lived here. There’s ALWAYS targets on people’s back, no matter who they know,” 

“That is true,”

“But--” you sighed nervously. “He--He did threaten the kids, and my family, if you came down here again,” 

“Fuck…” He muttered. 

There was a long pause, so long you thought he might have hung up.

“...You need to come here,” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You almost lost it laughing.

“I can’t protect you from here!” 

“I didn’t ask you to protect me!” You half laughed.

“Then why are you calling me?” 

“I called you to say stay away from us,” You sighed.

“...Do you really mean that?” You could picture his puppy dog eyes as he spoke.

“Rafael, look-- I already told you. I have to put the kids first-- I can’t put their lives in danger just because your smile makes me weak,” 

“...Does it now?” You could hear him smirking through the phone.

“Shut up, you know what I mean. I can’t put what I want before them,” You replied in a flush.

“But you said they need their parents,”

“They also need to LIVE,” You scoffed.

“Please, Diego is all bark and no bite. I grew up with his brother, they’re full of shit,” 

“Well I’m sorry I don’t have the luxury of taking that chance while I sit in my ivory tower,” You said sarcastically.

“....That’s not fair. I told you how hard I worked--” 

“Yeah and I’m happy for you! I’m glad that you got out of here, I really am. But I’m still here,” You ran your hands through your hair. 

“That’s why I’m saying come to me!” He argued.

“Are you not hearing me? I run a restaurant, Rafael! I have kids to think of! I have a LIFE here. I can’t just run away with you,” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighed. “I meant bring the kids,”

“Did you? Because I think you know that’s impossible. Where are you gonna put all of us? You’re going to rip them away from their home? Their friends? Their life? And and then, then when we’re gone they’ll just go after Mari, or worse Ashtawnja! Or do you want her blood on your hands too?”

“...That’s the last time I’m going to let you bring that up again, or I’m hanging up.” He growled.

“Fine, you’re right. But you also know I’m right-- you can’t save everyone, Raf,” You blinked back tears. “But you can save us by staying away,” 

“I...I can’t do that,” He muttered.

“YES, you can. And you better because I swear to God Rafael if you show up here and the Diablo’s take it out on me or my family I will NEVER let you out of the guilt from that,”

“Just...Look just...just let me come and talk to--” 

“NO. No, okay? Just lose this number,” You hung up abruptly.

You put your hands over your face as you slumped down the wall slowly, silent tears falling down your face. You hated having to tell him to stay away from you, that was the last thing you wanted. But you knew it was for the best. 

Little did you know, Rafael wasn’t that easily deterred. 

----

It was late, you had closed hours ago and the kids had been asleep even longer. You couldn’t sleep, you were thinking about Rafael. Suddenly, a knock on the back door of the restaurant knocked you from your guilt. You grabbed one of Beto’s old little league bats and crept downstairs, as the knocking continued. You crept closer, and swung it open, waving a bat in the intruder’s face.

“DON’T FUCK WITH ME!!!!” You screamed, only to miss the guy and fell flat on your face.

“....And what exactly were you going to do to a Diablo with a bat in your shorty shorts and a tank top, hermosa?” 

You turned to see Rafael dressed in street clothes. His usual pristine suit was replaced with a leather jacket and jeans that showed off his amazing ass, topped with the black fitted tee showed off the fact that he may be older, but he took care of his body. VERY well. He was decked out in tons of gold chains and rings, you were half shocked he didn’t have a fake grill as well. 

You leapt to your feet, trying your best not to stare. If you didn’t have kids upstairs you would jump him right there in the alleyway. 

“...Is that how they dressed when you lived here?” You smirked, trying to hide the fact that you were incredibly turned on. 

“Oh come on, you know I look sexy,” He winked. “....Or at least your nipples do,” 

You glanced down at your pretty thin tank top to see your nipples standing at full attention. You clamped your arms around your chest quickly, feeling your face growing hotter by the second.

“...It’s cold out here,” You scoffed, but you knew you were totally busted. You hurried him inside, locking the door behind you.

“Okay sexy flirting aside, I told you not to come here!”

“You said the abogado couldn’t come here, so he didn’t,” He presented himself.

“Oh right, so you think you came here under the radar in that outfit, do you?” You half laughed.

“Well that and the fact that I came down here on my bike and not in an Uber,” 

“On a bicycle Raf, seriously?” You were now snickering. 

“No, smart ass. My BIKE,” He nodded outside. You cracked the door open to reveal a black motorcycle. 

“You, ride a motorcycle?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“I do,” He smiled. 

“You are full of surprises, counselor,” You smiled as you bit your lip.

“Keeps it interesting,” He smirked, pulling on your tank top. 

“So....does this mean I can ‘fraternize’ with this Rafael?” 

“Rafa,” He corrected you, rolling the R. “And he can protect you,” 

“I never said Rafael couldn’t protect-- is that why you did this?” You suddenly felt guilty for making him think he couldn’t be who he was to be with you.

“Rafael can protect you with restraining orders and lots of legal bullshit-- Rafa can protect you, the way you need to be protected right now,” 

“And how exactly is that, ese?” You raised an eyebrow.

He smiled slightly and moved his leather jacket, revealing a Glock in his belt. Your smile quickly faded, pushing him angrily.

“What the FUCK, Rafa?” You hissed, trying not to wake the kids. “You brought a gun into my house?!”

“I thought that’s what you wanted!” 

“You thought I wanted another cholo? This place is crawling with them, Rafa. I want the nice, handsome man that came in here the other day,” You pulled on the collar of his leather jacket.

“No you don’t, you told him to leave you alone,” He looked down and away at the floor in sadness.

“I…” you put your hand over your head, running your fingers down through your hair. 

“You’re right. I did,” You couldn’t fault him for listening to you, kind of. 

“So...you gonna let me protect you or what, carino?” 

You thought about it, milling it around in your brain. You glanced upstairs towards the kids, then looked at this new “Rafa”. 

After about a minute, you walked up to Rafa, pressing your body against his. 

“Alright guapo, you can stay,” you smirked. “But THIS, can’t,” You pulled the gun from it’s holster. 

“Fair enough,” He nodded and then went outside to lock the gun under his seat compartment. When he returned, he had a huge mischievous smile.

“So does that mean we--” He started to talk but that jacket with those abs couldn’t hold you back any longer. You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into your face. He responded by picking you up, you wrapped his legs around his chest as you two continued kissing. You fumbled with his jacket, trying to rip it off his body. 

“Easy hermosa, this jacket’s $200,” He chuckled, calmly sliding it off his arms and tossing it on your back table. He continued to kiss you, going for your tank top to pull off when…

“Rafael?” 

You both immediately ceased the making out and turned to see a sleepy Chloe, standing at the top of the stairs staring at the two of you. 

BUSTED.

[krolock-in-the-snowlock]

My Full Commentary on Broadway’s Dance of the Vampires

Turns out there’s so much that this is going to have to be split into two posts! These are my full, unedited, out-of-context ramblings as I watched the production, so prepare for it to be all over the place and chaotic! I also did a slightly shorter review of sorts here!

But here we go... Act 1!

• Huh. This is not Alfred in the snow

• Why are there three children in the forest

• This song is boring. To be fair their voices are nice but I’m still bored. This feels like Disney ugh

• God these jokes are awful and I can’t tell if they’re funny or not

• Whyyyyy is there a jokes every 5 seconds and WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN THE FOREST

• Oh my god why are they getting high on mushrooms

• wAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE SARAH HOLY SHIT

• WHY IS SHE WITH PEOPLE ARE THEY HER SIBLINGS

• WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE

• I feel like they’re foreshadowing Krolock’s arrival

• I want to get this over with already and see Krolock but I don’t want to see Crawford butcher his poor character

• What is going on why are they dancing, is this Carpe Noctem already

• Why are they just carrying them around

• The lights are nice but that’s about as far as I can compliment this

• The dancers (I’m guessing vampires even though I swear I heard a wolf howl) look like they just got off of Cats and either think they’re still in Cats but just wandered onto the wrong stage or just never recovered from being cats for so long and can tragically no longer move like normal humans (or vampires, whatever)

• The rock music is pretty cool I’ll give them that

• But I still don’t see where they’re going with this

• OH SHIT

• WHY DID A COFFIN LITERALLY RISE OUT OF THE GROUND

• IT’S GONNA BE KROLOCK ISN’T IT

• WHYYY

• God has left the building what the fuc-

• It sounds like he’s about to start a really sad rave

• Is that Krolock’s voice oh god please no

• Also THEY ARE NOT IN A BUILDING THEY ARE IN A FOREST

• I get that Krolock breaks the fourth wall in Die Unstillbare Gier but that is no excuse for this aAaAa

• I’m both scared and morbidly excited to unpause the video

• This feels on the same level of what kind of acid trip hallucination parallel universe have I landed in as seeing the Cats film in the cinema in that I’m both scaredly laughing and like fuck it what have I got to lose I’m here for the ride no matter what the next two hours may throw at me

• Oh god here I go

• Why are they applauding this is horrifying

• Is that a bloody top hat jesus christ

• Also I’m sorry but what kind of coffin is that big

• NO

• NO

• NONONONO

• I CAN’T THIS IS HORRIBLE

• COUNT GIOVANNI

• WHAT IS THAT VOICE

• Sarah sounded like Giofuckingvanni impersonating Sarah

• Did he just say you are a person

• And how old are you??? Where is the mystery?? Why does he sound like an old grandpa talking to the girl behind the checkout at the supermarket

• Ok I went back to check and no he said you are perfect and tbh that’s not much better she isn’t a product Giovanni

• Like yeah Krolock would probably be thinking that but he would never say it so plainly

• 18 in three days oh my god is her birthday on halloween

• Why does she talk like a 6 year old

• Oh no I’m sorry not just halloween but the total eclipse of the moon

• Gotta get the phrase total eclipse in there early

• At midnight huh sarah??? You were born at midnight???? And you care about that at 18-in-3-days??

• Issa too good excUSE ME?

• He sounds like a looney tunes character

• Is he talking to the audience

• Is this actually deadpool in disguise with all the fourth wall breaking because please that would be so much better than this trainwreck

• And Deadpool would never do this to poor TdV

• And your name, no don’t tell me… Sarah he’s not a cheap magician ugh (or tbh maybe Giovanni is)

• And now the einladung zum ball/tanzsaal music is playing… what is going to happen here

• I was gonna say finally something familiar but nope these lyrics are so wrong

• I know they can’t be exactly the same but they could have at least kept the meaning similar

• Like, what the hell is an original sin

• I was gonna roast the lyrics some more but I’m gonna be honest I’m not sure what he’s saying

• Endless researching? Ambronsius who? Awful word choice and I’m hating the repeated original sin thing he’s got going on

• Sei bereit????? So they’re keeping the German there???? Why??? Be prepared is the same number of syllables???

• Also what are they doing?? Merging einladung zum ball with gott ist tot or totale finsternis or what??

• Oh they said turn around… so not the literal translation, just the Bonnie Tyler lyrics, huh? That doesn’t even make sense. He’s in front of her already

• I’m sorry, since she’s been born??

• I’m mad that his voice is good because he could have performed in a faithful adaption and been a great Krolock but no he had to ruin everything and now we won’t get a good english version thanks michael

• It’s time to feed? Really?

• Oh so we are doing totale finsternis already

• We’re barely 11 minutes in and they’ve already used up two of the best songs in the musical?

• Also if Sarah and Krolock meet so early on, what’s gonna take up the first act? What’s gonna take the place of totale finsternis at act 2?

• The use of total eclipse of the heart definitely feels like an intentional joke here rather than just jim recycling his old stuff, and honestly it kind of works like that (though that’s only because this whole thing so far seems like one big parody)

• But if they don’t do the harmonies I’m gonna be so mad

• Or maybe I should just consider it a blessing tbh

• Nobody could ever beat drew and diana

• You’re so cool just because that’s what I think when I see Krolock that doesn’t mean that fits Sarah’s personality or what Krolock is supposed to be achieving (also Giovanni is most certainly Not Cool)

• Where I’ve paused it at 12:12 it looks like a meme. Crawford looks like he regrets everything and can I just say michael so does everybody else

• He looks like a potato or a rock or that neutral nicolas cage face that people put on the sequin cushion

• I hate that I kind of laughed at ‘and does he love me?’ ‘…Sarah.’

• She looks like a barbie doll

• Is he biting her already??

• Oh was he licking her neck?

• Why… don’t you celebrate… your birthday… at my castle? Oh my god

• This sounds like a poorly written krolock/reader wattpad fanfic

• Which is actually quite accurate

• He will return with the tails??

• He can’t gift her the sponge if the significance of the sponge hasn’t already been establisheddd

• It feel like lol aren’t i so random rawr xd

• Though giovanni would highkey be like that on myspace

• Also just saying, the sponge krolock gives to her in tdv is much more impressive than that normal sized sponge, up ur game giovanni

• And that’s just it????? He says ciao bella like a creepy mario then sinks into the ground again???

• How dare they use those nice choral harmonies for that scene

• Ah, 14:17 and I should go to bed but I sure don’t look forward to the garlic that I hear coming up

Day 2: Garlic

• And we’re back for round 2!

• So far garlic seems to have a similar vibe to the original, probably because the original was pretty dumb

• Yeah pretty much the same as the original

• But if there’s no frozen alfred and professor yet, what’s even going on?

• And that’s over

• Oh so they’re just gonna arrive like that, no drama or anything?

• Ew why does alfred sound like that? He might as well be gaston

• Oh so they’re mentioning Krolock by name??? When they’re supposed to be pretending he doesn’t exist?

• Oh so that was a mistake by an idiot, I see. Was this in the original?

• The whole smelling like feet thing is kind of funny, I hate to admit it. It’s just a shame it doesn’t fit Alfred’s character

• All in all, ignoring the fact that alfred is all wrong and not frozen, this scene is going pretty well. The jokes are quite good

• Huh who is this supposed to be??

• Oh my gOD IT’S GIOVANNI

• AND HIS STUPID ISSA TOO GOOD

• I really hate that I kind of enjoyed that reveal on some level

• But why????

• Where is koukol

• That silk is not going to be enough for sarah’s ballgown, I hate to break it to you Giovanni

• All of these modern phrases like I leave the door open and put it on my tab just don’t fit

• At this point I’ve decided to stop trying to take Giovanni seriouslg. This is a parody in my eyes

• Ah we’re at logic round 1 huh?

• It’s a shame the only bits so far that they’ve kept fairly accurate are the parts I never liked as much

• Oh my god is giovanni visiting the house as a bat???

• I’m not entirely certain who this other guy is… chagal?

• Frickin idiots really giovanni?

• Oh so koukol doesn’t even exist???

• Is his name morris??

• This is weird

• Ah finally sarah is in the bath

• But it’s in her room???

• Did she call alfred tasty?? You’re not a vampire yet sarah

• They’re both way too outgoing and confident ugh it’s wrong

• Where’s all the cute awkward clumsiness and interactions?

• Ok so alfred’s diary stuff is funny but it’s not alfred. Like, he was probably thinking some of this stuff but he wouldn’t say it, especially not like that

• Well chagal is less sexist and abusive here which is nice but ultimately removes sarah’s motivations

• A blood transfusion??

• I don’t even know what to say, these jokes are kinda gross

• Orange and black crepe paper? A pumpkin?? The prophecy thing? This is just stupid

• The pumpkin probably would scare giovanni away though

Sarah and Alfred’s duet doesn’t work when they’re both in THE SAME ROOM

• This is boring ugh they just met but not even in the way they did originally

• Where’s krolock to invite her to the ball? Oh wait, they already met, and it’s giovanni

• Dammit I love the einladung zum ball scene

• Did they even check blood types?? Oh wait it’s 18whatever supposedly

• Ew they’re supposed to bond over sponges not journals

• Oh here’s chagal’s gross song. Marginally less gross in this context to be fair but still

• Ha no one will abuse you except for you huh chagal

• Oh bye I guess chagal

• NO THAT BAT IS AWFUL OH MY GOD

• WHY DID THEY DO THIS

• GIOVANNI NO

• WHAT IS HE SINGING

• This is horrible

• Where’s the drama, the impressive teleportation, the cape swishing, the mystery, the music?

• Issa me! He might have just as well gone and said Itsa me, Mario!

• This is a crime

• He genuinely thinks she’s a princess nOOOOOO

• Krolock would never

• But I guess giovanni is just Like That

• Krolock wouldn’t complain about the smell, he would pull a face but that would be it

• The joke about the mirrors..? Is giovanni really that stupid or is he self aware and is joking with the audience?

• And the way he just stands there facing the audience in silence as they laugh… he’s got to be self aware

• Also this whole thing is so stupid in its attempts to be funny that I bet we won’t even get die unstillbare gier because giovanni could never pull off anything so genuine or serious (nor could any of the others though)

• Oh god are they semi doing einladung zum ball with the never enough stuff? But it’s not even dramatic or powerful enough ughhh

• Nooooo they made it sound all sappy and romantic when it’s supposed to be dark and commanding and… I don’t even have the words to describe it but no this is awful

• Also the lyrics feel so much more shallow than the original… and the original was so full of what was probably too many syllables that this just feels empty and drawn out

• Oh I’ve got it! Giovanni is like trying to convince her kindly like, oh sarah, that would never be enough for you, darling whereas krolock is stating a powerful fact, he’s like that would never be enough. Krolock knows that she knows and is just kind of showing her that he understands her and she should join him.

• Also michael if you sing the long note at the end, it needs to be meaningful, powerful, entrancing, inviting, exciting, dark, strong. You can’t just do a weedy weak version with no power and no meaning or purpose to the scene

• Why is mars rising

• Oh is it supposed to be a blood moon I bet it is

• This is new…

• The lyrics are all hey sarah, you can do whatever cool stuff you want, the dark side is fun haha

• There’s no story, no appeal to her character development or deeper motivations

• The staging is boring. They’re just stood there. Like two pigeons aimlessly squawking at each other, only one pigeon has decided it won’t shut up

• Giovanni’s makeup and hair are all wrong too

• Dear god only 45 minutes in

• Oh so chagal is frozen and bitten at the very least

• Oh magda and mrs chagal are both singing

• The harmonies are nice, I’ll give them that

• Ah here he goes

• Ew why is he a dog

• Oh mrs krolock is back

• Ooh manipulative he lies

• Ew alfred no kissing without asking first

• And here’s draussen ist freiheit

• Oh but it��s not about freedom, it’s bravery instead

• Why has it got a a dance beat now

• Oh no giovanni’s voice is ruining everything again

• Every time I think the music is actually alright, giovanni’s weaselly voice ruins everything

• Ah finally the end of act 1, though lesss cool when not on a house

• At only 1 hour and 4 minutes, we’ve done it. Halfway through. This is where things should start getting good but of course that probably won’t happen.

• Wait we didn’t even get gott ist tot

• Oh no here it is

• Sounds like they’re keeping it the same

• Ok michael you’re not doing too badly

• *cough* But hey that’s probably because you’re sticking to the source material *cough*

• Ah ok now it’s the end of act 1 at 1 hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds.

• And what an hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds they’ve been

• So, before we move on, a quick summary:

• The better parts are the parts where they actually stick to the source material

• Giovanni is the polar opposite of Krolock and therefore cannot even be called Krolock

• The jokes are awful but sometimes funny

• I’m dreading act 2

• Dear god we haven’t even seen herbert yet

• And if sarah is already at the castle, is totale finsternis even going to happen again?

• I guess we’ll find out whether we want to or not in…

Part 2!

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XIII

December 28, 2277.

“Wait. Enclave? What the hell is an enclave?” Butch asks, brows furrowing.

“In this context, they’re the other group of power-armored assholes running the other radio station with patriotic music, and fancies themselves as the United States of America, though I think they really are what remained of the USA. They’re also the bitches responsible for my dad’s death, so there’s that,” Percy tells him.

“Holy shit,” DeLoria murmurs, throwing back another shot. “Hey hey wait, how do you know that? I didn’t pay much attention to history class but I don’t remember Mr. Brotch mentioning anything about the American government going all psycho with power armor.”

Percy pauses, brow wrinkling. “Dad mentioned something when I was younger, about how some of the history books we study as kids didn’t paint the entire picture, and when we were reunited in the wasteland, at some point when one of his scientists switched to the Enclave radio during dinner, he asked her to turn it off. Said it was run by fascists that came from a failed pre-war government.”

“But how does your old man know about that when the vault was sealed- oh. Oh right. The Overseer lied to us.” Butch finally gets it. “Damn.”

“Yeah, and look at where that got us. I always suspected that things weren’t always what it seemed. Plus, the truth slips out of Old Lady Palmer’s mouth whenever she mentions dad “arriving” in the vault. My doubts were confirmed when I looked through Almodovar’s terminal, before I opened the door. There were scouting reports. Pictures of giant ants.”

The bartender serves Percy another shot and she gulps it down before resuming her story. The number of cigarettes in DeLoria’s box is dwindling, and so did mine.

“Then when I got to Megaton, some of the locals knew about the brainwashing stuff, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell in place. Finding out that dad was parroting the Overseer’s propaganda hurt. The worst part is? I haven’t forgiven him before he died.”

“I um… I’m sorry, Perce.”

My friend shrugs at DeLoria. “It is what it is. I miss him already. He’d know what to do. I wish I didn’t argue with him before those assholes...”

A sniff resounded in the mostly empty bar. Soft cries escaped Percy’s lips, tears streaming down her red face. I wanted to offer an arm, a hand, anything , but DeLoria already wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Right. Great. That’s probably for the better. Sticking my non-existent nose in her business is becoming a dangerous habit.

Last night was probably a mistake.

“Okay, I think you had enough alcohol for the night,” the barkeep announces, and takes the scotch away. “The two of you, make sure she sleeps it off.”

“Hey Butch, you said you were gonna start a new gang, right? May I suggest ‘Our Dads Got Fucking Killed by Fascists’ for the name? We three could be the first members,” Percy slurred in between sobs. How she can find humor in the situation is beyond me.

“Yeah, she’s wasted alright,” Butch mumbles. “Hey, um, I don’t exactly have caps on me yet. Is Perce gonna pay the tab?”

I scoffed, fishing around Percy’s pack to pay off our bill. After tossing a few caps to the old lady, I helped Percy to her feet, and so did DeLoria. It was a struggle. I am a few inches shy of seven feet, DeLoria’s around six, and Percy is just a little taller than five. DeLoria looks at me with a weary smile. The two of us did the best we can to ensure this small girl doesn’t land face-first into the ship’s metal flooring. Us both being inebriated and Dogmeat bumping into us every three seconds did not help. I heard a patron that frequents the bar snicker at the sight of us, a girl about Percy’s age with the shittiest pigtails I’ve ever seen. On a human, anyway.

“Y’know what? Just carry her,” said Butch, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t working. I need to get some shuteye for my first day as a barber tomorrow too. See you two around.”

“Goodnight, Butch,” Percy slurs, half of her ass leaning on a nearby table for support.

I nodded at the greaser and he left the premises, the confidence in his gait replaced with drunk swaying and awkwardness. Gathering our gear, I carried Percy’s pack and weapons on my back, then I swept her off her feet in a bridal carry.

She’s gotten lighter.

“Hey, big guy,” slurs Percy, hiccuping. “You do know that I am -hic- perfectly capable of walking, right?”

“The last time you said that, you almost fell off the boat.” I started heading towards the exit.

My friend sighs, shaking her head in resignation. “I might as well enjoy riding you then.”

I froze in my spot. The girl with the shitty hair snorted her drink and outright laughed at us. I couldn’t bring my eyes to look at Percy but I know that she’s even redder now, and she felt a few degrees warmer in my arms.

She stammers, slightly flailing. “I mean, I might as well enjoy you- the ride! I might as well enjoy the ride! Dammit!”

“Sleep it off, Percy.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” the bartender barked at us. “Get the fuck out of my bar and go hump each other someplace else. I’m closing shop.”

We left in a hurry.

Percy was breathing softly, seemingly asleep when we arrived in the Weatherly Hotel, the only clean place to sleep on the boat, where we were greeted by the owner and a Mr. Handy. Beside her, the boy we rescued and brought from Grayditch stands up and runs to us.

“Hey! You two came to visit! Whoa, what happened to her? Is she hurt?” the boy exclaims.

“She’s fine, just tired. We need a room.”

“Hi, Bryan,” Percy slurs. She wasn’t asleep after all. “Shouldn’t you be asleep already?”

The owner smiles. “She’s right, Bryan. Off to bed.”

“Aw. Aunt Vera, I wanna hang out with Percy and Charon more.”

“You can do that tomorrow when Percy is feeling better,” Vera replies, and she nods to us. She had the room unlocked and I stepped in, placing Percy on the bed, and I dumped our gear on the floor. I locked the door behind us afterwards.

While I made sure nothing was out of place, Percy was sloshing water in her mouth, which she spat in a bucket. Staying clean even when she cannot take a full bath are some of her habits and rituals that I got used to. They’re probably good ones. She’s not resistant to disease like I am.

I turned to check on Percy. She had stripped down to her underwear, glasses haphazardly tossed to the bed.

The alcohol in my system is impairing my judgment. I should be turning around and should not be watching Percy tend to herself, but I just watched her. Life in the wasteland claimed some of her softness, and she had a few scars here and there, but she’s still attractive. Her legs are toned from all the walking we do, and her shoulders slightly are wider than her hips. When she turns around though, her behind is… something else.

Wait.

I’m looking at her bare ass.

I need to turn around. I need to turn around, but my body isn’t letting me. I can feel myself tenting at the crotch of my pants. This isn’t good.

When she turned to me, naked, swaying, and smiling, I thought I was in another dream, but I felt her warm breath and I know I’m awake. Things are happening too fast. My eyes dared to meet hers, then it trails below, to her small erect nipples, wet and shiny from her half-bath, and the dark patch of fuzz between her legs.

Damn it. I wanted to claim her. Act on the fantasies I have about her on nights that my body was too warm for my own liking. Put those nipples in my mouth. Bury my face between her legs. Pin her against the bed and make sure the entire boat hears her cry out my name.

“Big guy. Come to bed with me?”

But I hear the slur in her speech, and it took all of my willpower to shake my head.

“No. Percy. You’re drunk,” I say to her firmly.

“And?”

“I don’t want you to do things you’ll regret later, and I do not want to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

“Wait, who said anything about- I just want to sleep next to you again, Charon.”

“Naked?”

Mouth open and brows furrowed, she looks at herself, and curses. “I am- oh no, I am so sorry, holy shit,” Percy apologizes. “Fuck. Fuck! Stupid ass drunk idiot! I’m never drinking again,” she says to herself.

“Keep your voice down. I’ll go look for something you can wear.”

“Dammit, Charon I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to harass you like this, oh my God-”

“I do not feel harassed, but I appreciate the apology. Now, refrain from making any more noise,” I tell her, and I reach into her pack. A flimsy red nightgown was the last thing I expected.

“Percy, is this fine? This will not protect you from the cold much.”

She looks at me, then at the thing, and snatches it from my hand. “Yes! Um, thank you Charon. I found it when we were looting and-”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Percy. Get dressed.”

She nods, turning around and dressing herself, then she clears her throat. “All clear. Your turn.”

I cleaned up and changed into something more suitable for sleeping, Percy’s back in sight, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering. When I finished changing, I got in bed.

We lay on the bed next to each other, but she seems so far away.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Charon. I don’t want you to think that I’m like some of your former employers who, uh, used you for your body.”

“I don’t think of you that way.”

“That’s a relief. You’re important to me.”

I look at her, and she’s facing me now, eyes soft and filled with a feeling I cannot describe. “Thank you. You are important to me too.”

Burying her face in my chest, she wraps an arm around my waist. I pulled the covers over us, and I held her.

“Night. Love you.”

February 7, 2278.

Two days after DeLoria’s first visit, he came over again. He brought with him a few of Percy’s belongings from Megaton, including Dogmeat’s teddy bear. The mistress entrusted a copy of the house key to the greaser, much to my dismay, but the dog has been restless without Mr. Bubbles and having it back gave me some relief.

It smells more like dog slobber now than it did Percy, but Dogmeat is still comforted by it. He misses her. I miss her too.

Dr. Li said she is getting better, but she’s still cautious. The doctor told me to not have too much hope; she had seen patients seemingly recover only for them to crash after a few days. It scares me. I wouldn’t know what to do with my life if Percy dies.

Dammit, I don’t want to think about that. She is going to live. Percy is a tough gal.

At this point, only Dr. Li, the greaser, and I are allowed in Percy’s room. She caught one of the scribes she entrusted attempting to extract blood from my partner without her authorization. I know something’s up, but the doctor isn’t budging. What is she hiding from the Brotherhood about my partner?

One of these days, I might need to confront her.

Smoking isn’t allowed in Percy’s room, so DeLoria and I just chewed bubblegum in silence while I maintained our equipment. I sorted out Percy’s change of clothes, came across that flimsy red sleepwear, and tucked it under her other belongings, what’s left of my skin burning hot. I’m doing my best not to let my mind wander to that night. Butch is fiddling with his Pip-Boy, identical to the one my partner owns, and I sigh in relief in knowing that he didn’t see me touch that thing. He already has several wrong ideas.

While I was hastily putting it away, a slip of paper fell.

It turned out to be a photograph. She found a camera when we stormed Paradise Falls, to save some kids. I remember the look on her face when Little Lamplight’s brat of a mayor told them that slavers took their friends.  We ended up opening the slave pens and trashing the place. Percy and I told them to find Hannibal Hamlin in the Washington Monument. Meeting Hamlin was one of my nicer memories from the past few months.

I’d do anything to see the determined gleam in her eye again.

I look at the photograph. It’s of me and the dog. Why would Percy keep something like this?

In the photo, I am asleep, taking a nap on the couch, and the dog was laying on my chest, looking at my partner behind the camera. I flipped it over, and there was some writing on it. Months of being taught by Percy paid off. She taught an old dog new tricks: I learned how to read.

“1-13-2278. Charon and Dogmeat.” This was two days after we got rid of my contract.  “The two loves of my life, after scotch,” she wrote under that. There’s a hollow heart drawn next to it.

I snort at the caption, knowing Percy’s sense of humor. Calling me Mr. Dreamboat, joking that I am her boyfriend… hell, she managed to freak out a few of the bigots in Tenpenny Tower with it once.

Now that I’ve thought about it… the playful nicknames, the touching, the concern, her putting me above herself, the trust she puts in me, the “love you” she mumbled while piss-wasted when I slept next to her in Rivet City; how did I miss all the signs?

Was I too taken in by the belief that smoothskins cannot harbor these feelings for ghouls? What did that damn kiss in the rotunda mean?

Does she even know the consequences of that kiss? If blondie wakes up and tattles to the Brotherhood about the Lone Wanderer kissing her ghoul bodyguard before running inside the chamber, it will ruin her. They might treat her even worse than before. My fears of people hurting her because of being associated with me gets worse as the days pass. There are so many things I want to ask her, so many things I want to talk about, but she’s still lying there, unconscious, under life support.

This can’t be the way things end.

Does she love me the way I love her?

I just want to know my place in her life.

[cupids-bent-arrow]

What it takes to forget (Part 1?)

(Charles Xaiver x Reader)

Warning(s):Angst? and Swearing (btw this is pre!Cuba Charles)

I might continue this….I don’t know ~Cupo

“No I’m not leaving!” You yelled over the sounds of explosions and  the fighting that was going on around you.

“I’m not giving you an option (Y/n!) Charles replied. You groaned as another mutant charged towards you; You quickly let a blast of energy shoot from your fingertips and they went down with a thud. You’ll admit the fight was getting pretty bad, there were a lot of mutants you had to still plow through. And your ride wouldn’t be getting near you anytime soon. You were a sitting duck. “(Y/n) listen to me,” Charles spoke into your mind, “I know you want to stay here and fight but…it’s getting too bad, I cannot allow you to stay here. I’ll tell Erik to hurry and get you out of here.” You punched another mutant in the face and roundhouse kicked the one behind you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “If you’re staying here than I am too!”

“(Y/n) I get that but you’re more…….(Y/N) GET OUT OF THERE!” Charles voice echoed in your head.

“What?! Why?” You felt a sharp pain course through body and you fell to the ground; life around you was buzzing and slow.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” You could hear Charles voice call out but you couldn’t muster the strength to answer. You hear the thumping of fast footsteps, you turned your head and smiled weakly. “Oh god (Y/n)!” Charles collapsed next to you, holding your body in his arms.

“Char….Charles?” You reached out to touch his face. Brushing your hands against his face gently as he hugged you tighter.

“Yes, yes my love….I’m here.” Tears were streaming down his face; wetting your hand as you wiped them away.

“Don’t….please don’t cry….I’ll be fine.” You smiled weakly. Charles shook his head and held your hand to his face.

“I know, I’m not just cry because of that….but also because of what I’m about to do.” Your eyes widened,

“Charles please no…don’t. I need to remember you…I have to remember all of this.” Tears started to fall from your eyes. Charles inhaled deeply. “I’m so….so sorry darling,” he leaned over and gently kissed your forehead. You choked on your tears as you tried to spit out any words. “I love you (Y/n). Charles placed his hands on the sides of your face and closed his eyes.

“I lo-” You felt your consciousness leave you as the last thing you felt were the tears of of your beloved and his sobs as he mutter more and more sorrow filled words.

You awoke in a hospital bedroom, everything was white and smelled like cleanliness as you squinted your strained eyes. Your body ached as you sat up. “Oh (Y/n)!” Your mother burst in running over to you; wrapping you in a tight warm embrace. “Honey, when I got the call that you were shot… well I just about passed out!” You raised your eyebrow.

“I was…shot?” Your mother nodded.

“Yeah by accident, the neighbors were showing off a gun when it fired and nailed you in the side.” You nodded and winced holding your head in your hands. “Are…you okay sweetie?”

“Yeah.” Your mom smiled and got up.

“I just gotta sign some papers and you’ll be outta here.” You smiled.

“Alright, thanks mom.”  And she left leaving you in the silence of your lonely room. You laid back down and closed your eyes. You saw a face it was blurry and their voice was distorted but you felt close to them. They were calling your name. You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling and sighed how strange….

Charles sat alone in his office, hands folded and resting his chin atop them as he looked out the window. He sighed and rubbed his face.

“You’re gonna regret what you did Charles.” Erik entered the office and leaned against the desk.

“Don’t remind me Erik…I already feel guilty enough.” Erik looked at the floor then set some papers on Charles’ desk along with a thick scrapbook.

“I miss (Y/n) too…everyone does.” Erik ended the conversation like that and strutted out the door. Charles looked at the papers and one caught his eye a tiny paper that had a number written on it “You should call (Y/n)” Erik had written it. It was your number. Charles picked up the other papers and crumpled them. He walked over to the trash bin and threw the papers into the the small bin. He looked at the scrapbook on his desk and opened it; flipping through some pages. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at a picture of him holding you a top a meadow. Charles threw the book across the room and slammed his hands on his desk. “Dammit!” Charles sunk to the ground; his palms pressed against his eyes as tears leaked from them. “Dammit.”

Tag(s): @goodbye–old–friend

[beefybuffybucky]

The Fallen and the Guardian

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader - Steve Rogers x female!Reader (Fallen Angel AU)

Summary: Your life has been pretty normal up until a mysterious, unfamiliar face comes into your life. From that point on, everything tumbles into a downward spiral of love, heartbreak, and destruction.

Warnings: Language - Angst

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: I really like this idea for a fic, so, I’m just gonna see where it takes me. But this will hopefully be a multi-part series, so if you’d like to be tagged, just let me know! Also feel free to leave me some feedback since I haven’t really done an AU fic quite like this one yet. 

Sundays were always one of the busiest days of the week, especially during football season. As a bartender in a small town, most of the folks who filter in through the doors typically stick with their different kinds of beer, which makes your job a lot easier. Tonight's crowd is a bit more wild than usual since the preferred team had just won the game by a close margin - if the other team had made their field goal, tonight would be a very different story.

Your best friend, Steve, is sitting at the bar and smiles as you slide another cold beer his way. You've known Steve since middle school. You were both pretty geeky and didn't really fit in with anyone else, but when puberty hit, Steve bulked up a lot and you filled out in all the right places, gaining a lot of unwanted attention from various people at school. Steve protected you like you were his sister, and you two were always together. It's like he was your golden-haired guardian angel.

“Helloooo, Earth to Y/N,” Steve's voice cuts through your thoughts.

“What?” You snap your head up and blink a few times.

“You've cleaned that same glass about six times now,” he laughs, motioning with his beer to the cup in your hands. “Pretty sure it's nice and dry by now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you mumble, reaching up to put the glass back on the shelf above you. The door to your right opened and a small gust of cold, autumn air tumbled in through the door. You look over your shoulder as you start to clean another glass with the rag in your hands. A devilishly handsome man walks up to the bar and takes a seat right next to Steve - the only one left at the bar. He has nearly-shoulder length, brown, wavy hair, a scruffy face, and is wearing dark wash jeans, a black leather jacket, and a black t-shirt.

“A beer, please,” he smiles, taking his time to draw out his words. Even his smile is charming.

“What kind?” You set down the glass and rag, putting your hands on the counter in front of you.

“Bud Light would be fine,” he beams back, obviously chewing gum. You grab his beer and pop it open, then hand it over to him. “Thanks, doll.” He winks at you, prompting you to roll your eyes. You look up to tell Steve something, but he visibly looks uncomfortable, like this guy’s presence offset him.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, then pushes away from the bar and walks off somewhere into the crowd.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” The man brings your attention back to him.

“Who wants to know?” You attempt to brush him off, but his icy-blue eyes felt like they were glued to you. Instead of making you uncomfortable, his attention was oddly alluring and captivating.

“Just me,” he shrugs, taking a swig from his bottle without breaking his eye contact.

“And who might you be?” You shelf the glass, grabbing another one from the sink in front of you. “I don't think I've seen you come in before.”

“Just moved here,” he grins again. “Name's Bucky - Bucky Barnes.”

“Well, welcome to the middle of nowhere, Bucky,” you chuckle lightly. “My name's Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Another swig. “It suits you,” his mouth curls into another smooth grin.

“Hey,” Steve finds his way back to the bar just as you feel a light heat start to creep up your face. “I gotta head out, see ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see ya. I'll text you when I'm done.” Steve takes his leave, and Bucky is quiet for a few moments.

“Is he your boyfriend?” His look is serious, almost dark.

“God, no,” you snort. “Just good friends, that's all.”

“Just good friends,” he repeats, dropping his gaze to the counter and chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing. You’re just cute.” He finishes off his beer.

“How about another?” A voice that sounded like his echoes in your mind, but you can’t tell if you’re just imagining it, or if you actually heard it.

“What did you say?”

“Just askin’ for another drink, doll,” he flashes a quick smile. You clear your throat and grab him another bottle.

“Thanks, darlin’.” There’s that voice again. You glare at him and he just winks in response.

“Are you...Did you…,” you can’t form the right words to ask. If you just straight-out ask him if he just spoke to your mind, you’d sound insane, but...you had heard it, hadn’t you?

“What’s wrong, doll? You’re lookin’ a little flustered.” He turns the bottle between his fingers.

“N-Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop that,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say that out-loud, and the embarrassment sends a new wave of flickering heat up your face.

“Stop what?” He slowly brings the bottle to his lips and tips it back.

“Y/N, you can head home if you’d like,” your coworker, Jared, tells you as he reaches for a glass above you. “I can hold down the fort.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying longer,” you wipe off your now-sweaty palms on your apron.

“Yeah, I can handle ‘em,” Jared confidently nods.

“Okay,” you shrug. “If you say so.” You untie the apron and grab your purse and jacket from below the counter. “See ya tomorrow.” You walk around the counter and directly out the door. Your car is only a few spots down from the entrance, and when you try to open the door, it doesn’t move. Even though you should, you usually don’t lock your car. You dig through your purse in search of the keys but come up empty-handed a few minutes later. A deep huff of air shoots from your nose. You look inside the window of your car and see your keys sitting right in the middle of the driver’s seat.

“Great,” you groan, lightly hitting your head on the window.

“Somethin’ wrong, doll?” Bucky’s voice startles you away from your car.

“God dammit, dude, give a girl a warning,” you shriek.

“Car troubles?” He nods towards your currently-useless vehicle.

“I locked my keys in, but I can call my friend for a ride.” You slide your phone out of your pocket and unlock it, then go to Steve’s contact.

“I can give you a ride if you’d like,” Bucky offers quietly.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.” You call Steve. The line rings a few times and then gets cut off by his voicemail. That’s weird, you think. Steve always answers his phone.

“You sure you don’t need that ride home?” Bucky offers again, nodding back towards a shiny, black Suzuki motorcycle. At this point, you had two options. One: (for some ungodly reason) trusting Bucky, and taking his offer. Two: making the attempt to walk the nearly-a-mile walk home during the late hours of the night in the cold. Dammit.

“Fine, I’ll take the ride. But you have to bring me to my place, nowhere else. It may not look like it, but I promise I could bust your jaw open.” You brush past him, heading towards the bike.

“There’s the attitude I’ve been waitin’ for,” Bucky’s laugh resonates through the parking lot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He hands you a helmet then ties his hair back into a low bun.

“I knew there was a little kick in you.” He swings a leg over his bike. “Hop on.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You did have a few beers.” You hesitate for a moment, really starting to regret trusting him with driving you home.

“I had two, and I don’t get drunk, doll.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Just trust me.”

You sigh and swing your leg over, grabbing onto his shoulders to balance yourself.

“I live down the street to the left. 3847.”

“Got it,” he starts the bike and it quietly roars to life. As he starts to drive out of the lot, you unknowingly scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. A delightful warmth radiated from him, and even under his layers of clothes, you could still feel just how toned his muscles were.

You got home just fine and headed in for the night after thanking Bucky and giving him back his helmet. He even convinced you to let him add his number to your contacts, ‘just in case’. You even gave him your number, too.  

When you got inside your apartment, you went straight to your room, ready to collapse in your bed and sleep. You tossed your purse onto your pillow and plopped chest-down on the bed, gently bouncing a few times. Your phone chimes in your purse, and you dig it out in hopes that it was Steve with an explanation as to why he hadn’t answered you in your dire time of need.

Instead, it was just an e-mail notification.

You sigh and roll off the bed to slip into something more comfortable. You opt for a large t-shirt and some boy shorts, then climb into bed, letting yourself drift away into a deep sleep.  

A sharp knock jolts you from your slumber. Rubbing away the hazy sleep from your eyes, you look at your phone for the time. 3:17 a.m. Whatever this is, it better be fucking good.

You groan loudly and throw back your blankets, the cool air of the room delicately kissing your warm skin. More knocking sounds throughout the apartment.

“Coming!” You holler as you walk down the hallway and to your living room. You open the door and find Steve standing with his hands in his pockets. “Steve? It’s like, three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“Just checkin’ up on you,” he mutters. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah, totally,” you move aside, letting him walk through the doorway. He stands a few feet away from you, watching as you gently close and relock the door. “What’s up?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Are you okay?” His face is laced with pure worry. “I saw your car was still in the lot. How’d you get home?”

“O-Oh, uh, my dumbass locked my keys in the car,” you chuckle, trying to lighten his mood. “So, I got a ride home from a friend, after someone didn’t answer his phone.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t get any calls,” his brows knit together in confusion.

“I tried calling you, but it just rung a few times and then went to voicemail, so I figured you were just busy. I mean, you left the bar in a hurry, anyway. Are you sure that you’re okay, Stevie? You started acting weird when Bucky -”

“I’m acting weird? You’re the one that just disappeared with a stranger!” His voice raises a level as it takes on a slightly accusatory tone.

“Yeah, after you didn’t answer!” You huff. “I’m a big girl, Stevie. If I didn’t feel safe with getting a ride from Bucky, then I wouldn’t have gone.”

“I’ve been looking for you for hours, and you didn’t think to try and call back again? When Jared said you drove off with some guy he had never seen before, I nearly had a heart attack! You can’t just do that to me.”

“Dammit Steve, stop acting like you’re my mother!” You storm passed him and into the kitchen.

“I just worry about you, Y/N, and I really don’t trust that guy. He seems really sketchy,” he adds as he trails you into your kitchen.

“Well I’m obviously alive, aren’t I?” You yank open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of chilled water. “Besides, if you were so worried and spent hours looking for me, why didn’t you think to check here first?”

“Because you drove off with that asshole and -”

“His name is Bucky, and to be honest, he’s been nicer to me than you’ve been for the past eight hours, and I really don’t appreciate you waking me up at three in the morning just to fucking yell at me!”

Steve doesn’t respond for a few moments. He just leans back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling.

“I just need to protect you, Y/N,” he whispers, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I don’t need your protection, Stevie. I can handle myself.” You tightly grab the bottle, waiting for his next response. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, Steve.” You storm off past him and down the hallway to your room, kicking the door shut behind you. You wait until you hear him open and close your front door to climb back under the covers of your bed, setting the still-unopened bottle of water on your nightstand. You roll over and lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as sleep now feels impossible since your thoughts were now riled up. You release a deep groan and throw an arm over your eyes.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You bolt up in bed, heart beginning to race as you look around the room for the source of the voice. It sounds like Bucky’s again, but more distant. There’s no way he could be in your apartment, so you settle on it being a combination of your raging thoughts and wild imagination. What the hell is happening to me.

PART TWO

Tags: @buckyisloved @awinterloveuniverse @isaxhorror @hollycornish @bexboo616 @superwholockian5ever @queendarkmuffin @theraputicwritings @asouthsideserpent @captainfbffangirl99 @randyortontattoos

[limitedrevolverworks]

[>>>]

There is always a certain hesitation involved into making a phone call to a friend you haven’t heard in a while, even more so if you’ve known the friend in question since your puberty. The bond formed between people who have shared their formative years is the kind that transcends such staples as childhood friendships and even blood relations - you’ll have to admit, it’s hard to rival the chemistry built between individuals who have shared the awkward pain of the first time they bled between their legs or saved the town from its fated destruction by your future husband.

It’s a matter of relatability.

With that said, it’s a wonder why the face reflected on your cellphone’s screen should be wearing such a hesitant expression, or why you would even deem it “hesitant” at all when “already prefiguring the impending arrival of a headache” fits it a hell of a lot better. Maybe you’re trying to be optimistic, and God knows how hard doing that’s been since the start of this day. That’s not a figure of speech, by the way: you’ve always harbored this feeling in your gut that whatever greater entity represents the forces of justice has never quite seen your unholy matrimony with the evil’s Number One representant in a good light. Or maybe that’s just your way of rationalizing the whole baggage of stress that sometimes gets unloaded all over your daily life. You’ve every right to be superstitious when you have Princess Levia, Crown of the Western Hellsea (although she prefers it when people call her Levia-tan) doing the laundry for you on Sundays.

Alright, look, you can’t keep hesitating like this. Just press the button and make the damn call already! It’s just your old friend Tomoyo, what’s the worst that can happen? Sure, so maybe you’ll probably have to spend at least an hour listening to sugary platitudes so sweet you’ll end up turning into a blushing sack of diabetes, but it’s also true that somehow, you’ll feel immensely grateful to that bubbly bundle of boundless love you used to (and still subconsciously do, let’s admit it) call Leader for reminding you that it’s not really the end of the world and you haven’t failed as a mother, after all. It’s like swallowing medicine, only instead of bitterness, it makes honey seem like a jellified version of salt by comparison. You’ll swallow it with lips curled into every complaint they know how to vocalize but, dammit, it’ll make you feel better.

Okay, deep breaths. Well, more like the first of many a deep, exhasperated sighs, really. It’s too late for regrets now - actually, a recent flood of those is precisely why you’re pushing a trembling thumb on that Call button while muttering ‘Good grief...’ so pathetically in the first place. Oh crap, you did it, you really did it now! What now, should you just cut the call before it goes through?! No, no, that’d be rude and the last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt that airhead’s feelings because you cannot get a hold on yours... oooh, it’s ringing, you can hear it. Bad idea, really bad idea. Come on come on think---

“MAWARI-CHAAAN!”

“IT’S HIMAWARI, IDIOT!”

Some things never change, do they? Even as you alert the whole house by screaming into your phone, you can feel the warm pang of nostalgia suffocating under the humonguous block of stress inside your head. It makes zero sense, but you’re already beginning to feel a lot more at ease, once you’re done testing your vocal folds and your giggling friend’s ear on the other side of the conversation.

“It’s been forever since your last call, Mawari-chan! How rude of you to leave lonely little me hanging for so long...” You can envision with perfect clarity the ridiculously exaggearted pout adorning your friend’s visage. It makes your eyes trace a trajectory as they roll that is almost as wide as your spontaneously born smile.

“Yeah, as if you have any time or energy left for that after spending every day coddling a bunch of brats.”

Although hearing a grown adult go ‘Ehehe’ in such a childish tone, you have to wonder who the brat really is, or how exactly this woman could lead a group of superpowered heroines when she was just starting to learn how tampons work.

“Sounds like you’re having fun with your job as usual.”

“Of course! Thinking up new activities for the children means that every day is always full of surprises... that goes for them and me both! Boredom’s an unknown guest in these premises, ahaha.”

Tell me about surprises... no, no, too soon for that. Take your time to catch up a bit first at least. Indulge a bit. You’re already sprawled on a sofa in your pjs like the hoboest hobo who ever hobo’d, might as well use the opportunity to its fullest before everyone comes back home and make things awkward for you because you’ll inevitably make things awkward for them.

“But what about you, Mawari-chan?”

“Eeeh, same old, same old? I’d probably sound excited about my work life too, if the kids I gotta babysit weren’t a bunch of manchildren. The sorts we get at the office sometimes Tomo, I tell you... like this due the other day, walked straight to my desk asking me if I could save his sorry ass from some sexual harassment charges...”

“My, that sounds serious! Did you end up helping this poor man?”

“You can bet your innocent tushies I didn’t! Bastard didn’t realize I was the same lady whose buttocks he decided to rest his hands on while riding the morning train a week earlier. I figure he got memory loss when I flipped over my shoulder straight onto the station’s yellow line.”

“Mawari-chan, that’s so cruel!” she says, but you can distinctly hear her giggling in unison with you, you grinning demon. Taking some cues from your husband, mh?

“Can’t leave all the fun to the prosecution, you know?”

“So rowdy... You never change, Mawari-chan.”

Neither of you really ever did. In the case of Tomoyo, it’s reassuring. In yours... aah, could this awkward pause end, already?

“So, what’s troubling you then?”

Nevermind, bring the pause back! No? Urgh.

“W-what do you mean?” Dammit, get out of the way, nervous stammering!

“Now, now, Himawari-chan... there’s always something not quite right whenever you take the time to phone me, isn’t there?” ‘Sideglancing’ isn’t a tone of voice. It’s still the word that best corresponds to the guilty sensation you feel when you find yourself on the receiving end of them, trying to avert your gaze as if the phone’s receiver could capture and send it on the other side.

“I’m sowwyyy...!” Yeah, who’s the kid now, you moaning baby? If curling up into a ball and hiding under the protective warmth of that gaudy plaid your husband made won’t do much for your case, Miss. And the judge’s verdict is... a judgemental sigh? Sentenced to death?! No, wait, it was too short... condescending hint of laughter? Maybe there’s hope yet...?!

“Don’t be silly, Mawari-chan. You’re not the kind of villain who would burden others with your problems unless you knew how to deal with them yourself. So don’t worry, I’m not mad... well, maybe just a little bit! It would be nice if I didn’t have to become worried every time you call... or if you called more often at all! I really mean it when I say that I miss hearing from you, you know?”

Such gentle cruelty! The compassionate harshness of a Buddha! Truly, Sakuramiya Tomoyo is befitting of the title of Leader after all!

“I will, I swear I will! I-it’s just, with work and the family a-and everything else I b-barely have time for stuff and and and...!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Leave it to she who commands the Power of Love and works with children on a daily basis to bestow metaphorical headpats with the sole use of her words. “Silly Mawari-chan. How about you tell me about your problem now, mh?”

“Guuuh.” Any reluctancy would fall under the gentle caress of that tone. There’s nothing you can do but nod and sniff, maybe recover some semblance of composure while you’re at it.

“It’s... it’s Kyouya... he--he’s a bully!”

“Kyou-chan a bully? I’ve heard them all now!”

“It’s true! I spoke with his teacher this morning and she told me about it. That he leads this group and that he uses it to bother other students...”

“Well, it’s no wonder you’d be so distraught then... Kyou-chan! He was the sweetest little thing back when I was his teacher... did you talk with him about it, Himawari-chan?”

Oh, you sure did. And as you take in a deep, deep breath before beginning, you have to wonder if this’ll sound more or less outrageous than that one time you told Tomoyo about your daughter’s first accidental summon. If nothing else, this time you won’t have to change homes because your previous one got devoured by a giant matter-eating worm.

[>>>]

[wordsfromafangirl]

A 3 part Jeriday Fluff?

Part 1 Part 2 

Warning Part 3 is a bit lengthy: 

“You’re where Jeremy? I can barely hear you. Speak up, dammit!” Doc yelled into the phone at his ear.

Jeremy sidestepped in the well hoping that spot would give him better reception. “I’m in the well!” he yelled. “I had one of my feelings about Bobo so I wanted to come check on him, but it didn’t go so well.”

There was silence on the other end of the line so Jeremy wasn’t even sure his message went through. Being in the bottom of this well wasn’t so hardcore after all. There was nothing hardcore about the feeling of dread. The darkness also had this way of slowly vignetting itself until finally you were completely enveloped even though if you looked up you could still see a sliver of light in the sky. Jeremy shivered and cursed the pieces of metal in his body. He should have taken more precautions, but he was more worried about the fact that Bulshar may have been lurking about the well. He wasn’t necessarily protecting Bobo, but Jeremy also didn’t want the demon getting his hands on the powerful revenant. Too late for that now. Bulshar and Bobo are probably congregating with the rest of the revenants as the darkness of the well enveloped Jeremy some more.

Suddenly, a rope dangled before his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he saw it, but he reached his hand out and it touched something. “Man, I failed this in PE, but here goes nothing.” Jeremy began to lift himself up the rope, realizing that someone else was also helping pull from the top of the well. “That’s gotta be Dolls,” Jeremy murmured to himself.

To his surprise it was only Doc Holliday lifting him up and out of that well. “I am putting cement in that well. In fact, I am going to get me some dynamite and blow it to smithereens.”

“Give me a moment to breathe Doc. Just give me a moment.” “Of course, Jeremy. As you wish. Do you need anything else? I’ve got water in the back seat of Charlene. I’ve also got a blanket.”

“A blanket. I don’t need that right now. Right now I need to find a way to make myself immune to Bobo’s telekinesis powers. I have metal in my hands, my knees, and my head, Doc. Three of the worst places possible. I thought maybe the distance between up here and down there,” Jeremy points at the bottom of the well. “I thought it would keep me safe, but it didn’t. Bobo was able to manipulate the metal in me, Doc. He used my hands to pry off the wood and after that it was all a blank. I don’t know how he got out exactly because it was me pushing off the wooden door and then darkness. The bottom of that well, is so not hardcore Doc. I’m sorry, if I ever trivialized that experience.”

Doc simply reached for Jeremy’s shoulders and grabbed him into a hug. An emotional gesture that Doc didn’t express too often. Jeremy on the other hand desperately wanted this hug for a multitude of reasons. The number one reason currently being that it felt safe here in Doc’s arms. The second reason being that it just dawned on Jeremy that Doc came racing to him the second he called for help. The third reason being, man it felt so safe in this cowboy’s arms. Jeremy resisted the urge to kiss Doc’s mustached face, because a part of him knew that it wasn’t the right time. He’d have to work on the timing for that some where down the road.

“Doc, as much as love this little squeeze fest, I really gotta get back. We need to locate Bobo and see what he’s up to,” Jeremy tried to wiggle from Doc’s grasp. He loosened a bit but kept a hold of Jeremy by the shoulders as if he were afraid Jeremy was going to lose his equilibrium at any moment.

“We’re going to stand right here and you’re going to tell me Jeremy, why you would come here and do such a stupid stupid thing?” Doc had that dad voice going on and Jeremy had to bite his tongue for a moment. Biting his tongue was his way of turning on his filter guard. Otherwise sometimes if he didn’t then it was “no filter Jeremy” spewing out useless facts or even spewing out awkward and embarrassing flirtations. It’s the story of my life, Jeremy thought.

“As you know, I sense things Doc. It’s just how I’ve always been. I sensed that Bulshar was going to be here to release Bobo from the well, but I never foresaw my role in that escape. In fact, I wonder if I was given a false premonition by the demon. Doc, please, can we get away from this well now? I want to start working on something, maybe a serum of sorts to like cloak the metal within me, because Doc I do not want to feel the influence of another on my mind or limbs ever again. I do not want to see the bottom of that dark well ever again.”

“I like to see that Jeremy Chetri is being very hardcore about this,” Doc smiled. Impressed by Jeremy’s calm attitude. “I’m very happy, but I still think you should spend the night with me at Shorty’s again. Just in case. Even just one night in the dark can stir a whole slew of nightmares.”

“Okay, Doc, whatever you say. Let’s get out of here,” Jeremy grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to Charlene. Doc let him but before they got in the car he had one more thing to remind Jeremy of.

“Jeremy,” Doc looked to him over the top of the car. “You know I won’t let Bobo harm you. You don’t have to worry about him. It seems I might have to figure out more creative ways to keep the bastard from causing trouble. He’s going to wish he were still at the bottom of that well.”

Jeremy stared at Doc for several moments as if he were in recharging mode. Then he finally muttered, “You’re still a gorgeous idiot. Now, drive.”

—

“Doc, I only spent ten minutes or so in that well and sure it felt like eternity, but I’m not sure all of this light is necessary. Besides, when did you get all the candles?” Jeremy looked around the small apartment upstairs from the bar.

“Just earlier when you were debriefing Dolls about the Bobo situation. I knew you were coming over here and so I went to that small store on the corner of Main and bought some candles. Lord knows I needed all the light when I emerged from that damned well.”

Jeremy was moved by the gesture yet confused by the suddenly caring Doc who was giving him attention since Wynonna bolted for a bit. Also Rosita disappeared, but Jeremy wasn’t even sure if that meant Doc was single. Why did it matter anyway? There might be small moments that you could cling to like this one right now, but it wasn’t like it was going to be something solid. In your dreams, Jeremy.

“Well,” Jeremy sighed. “If I end up sleeping here tonight we’re going to have to put these out. It’s a fire hazard waiting to happen. For now, we can enjoy it.” Jeremy sat down at the small table designed for two in the kitchen. Doc took the chair across from him.

“Jeremy, ten minutes in that well is long enough. Over 100 years is far worse than you could possibly imagine so I am thankful for the technological advances of this world such as the cellphone that you called me on.”

“Doc, I told you I’m fine. I’ll live through this. I just feel horrible for being the one that let Bobo out,” Jeremy admitted. “Dolls reamed me. And not in the good way.”

Doc gave Jeremy a perplexed look, but then the joke sort of clicked in his mind. “Was that a sexual remark about Deputy Marshal Dolls?”

“Probably,” Jeremy said. Sometimes words came out of his mouth but he hadn’t processed saying them.

“Well, the Deputy Marshal, will forgive you. All of us don’t blame you. You followed a gut instinct. That instinct wasn’t entirely wrong,” Doc explained.

“Thanks, Doc. You’re always sticking up for me,” Jeremy grinned.

“Now are you sure you’re all right? Nothing else that we need to talk about.”

“John Henry Holliday, for the love of Optimus Prime, I am fine! You’re the one who spent over 100 years in that well and did a stint in Hell so please feel free to talk to me when you’re ready.”

“I do not deserve that sympathy,” Doc told him. “Especially coming from a man such as yourself. One I could rely in any life time.”

“Indeed you can, Doc. I’m here to stay.” Jeremy froze to his chair as Doc stood from his. The blue-eyed cowboy stood in front of Jeremy a moment. “What are you doing?” Jeremy’s voice was barely audible. It sounded more like a squeak escaping his lips.

“Something I might regret later, but hell we’re one fucked up family anyway,” Doc laughed and leaned in closer. Jeremy could feel the mustache on his face then lips on his. It was a small kiss. Nothing wild. Jeremy liked it that way. A small kiss. Doc stood back up.

Jeremy remained stuck. To. the. chair. Unmoving. “I feel like a prince who just received his fairy tale wish. My cowboy with two shiny guns and pointy knives finally kissed me in real life.” Doc shook his head and half-smirked. This boy and his trains of thoughts were something. Half the time Doc didn’t know what Jeremy was talking about but he usually ‘googled’ it later or looked at the Wikipedia for it.

“Doc!” Jeremy blurted out. “What!” Doc blurted back from inside the fridge. He had a hankering for a glass of sweet tea.

“Am I dreaming?” Jeremy asked. “No, sir, you are not. I just kissed you. Now, don’t get your knickers in a twist about it. I wanted to do it and I sensed you’ve wanted it for awhile now.” Doc sipped his tea.

“Let’s not over analyze…it’s just a crush. A crush…” Jeremy started to sing a song. It wasn’t one of his favorites. He actually preferred Kanye but his mind stored an overabundance of music like a computer hard drive. There was a song in particular about Doc that he played over and over in his mind.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Jeremy chuckled to himself, still stuck in wonderland as he sat, stuck to that same chair.

“Excuse me, Jeremy. Was that another sexual remark?” “Youtube it,” Jeremy giggled and looked at Doc. “I can’t believe you kissed me.”

“Want me to do it again?” Doc rolled his eyes and pulled Jeremy up from the chair by the strings of his jacket. He pressed his lips to Jeremy’s again.

“My god, that’s amazing.” Jeremy said proudly. “So amazing, but that mustache really does tickle my face. It’s something Wynonna thought too but was always afraid to tell you.”

“Good to know,” Doc smirked. “That doesn’t mean Jeremy wants me to stop kissing him?”

“Uh, no, absolutely not. I’d have that mustache tickle me all day if that means your lips are on mine. Thank you very much,” Jeremy did his little awkward bouncing on his feet. Doc went in for another kiss. “Hey, Doc,” Jeremy interrupted by pressing against his shoulders. “Do you think you could give me more shooting lessons? I’ve already worked up defensive fighting lessons with Dolls, but I think I need to work more on my firearms as well. Maybe even a little knife throwing, speaking of which, I was thinking about how we also need to make your knives immune to Bobo’s powers so we don’t get a knife in your hand scene all over again. Also, I think-“ Doc put a finger to his lips.

“Jeremy, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Doc pressed his finger harder to Jeremy’s lips. “That is a question that does not need to be answered. For the love of Optimus Prime would you shut up.”

“You said Optimus Prime. Did you watch Transformers? Did you?” Jeremy couldn’t resist.

“Oh, I give up. Chatter away my adorable friend,” Doc sank into the kitchen chair nearest him. This was going to be a long night.

[goldenscript]

basketball player!jungkook

author’s note: this is part of a sports series with my girl @wangpuppo (: and a request from one of my cute anonies that i miss. also, the bit with meeting a cute boy in philosophy happened irl and inspired this so heh enjoy!

meet jeon jungkook, power forward of seoul university and computer science major extraordinaire

you would think from the size of his thighs and his arms that he was a hockey player but he assures anyone that it’s really just a hobby for him and that basketball actually has his heart

his mom is actually the reason how he got acquainted with the sport bc a little before he was born, she was actually a college player with a semi-pro spot ready for her until she met his dad who was actually the waterboy

they shyly flirted with one another until some of her teammates locked them in a supply room closet together bc it was so unbearable for everyone else to deal with their feelings (lol) so by the time they were out of the closet they were together and happily so

however, come around their final year in college when things go kinda wrong and she ends up pregnant with baby jeon and of course they’re ecstatic but holy shit they haven’t even graduated yet and they’re gonna have a baby and well…. she didn’t go onto the semi-pro team and jeon’s dad did his best to work hard for them while she finished getting her degree WHILE nursing jungkook for 9 months

to say the least mama and papa jeon managed to get through the whole ordeal with degrees

by the time they graduated, baby jungkook was born and he became the light of their lives and despite their initial struggles they did their best to provide the family and make it as comfortable as they could for him because dammit they brought him into this world, they wanted to make him live well too

the comfort of their lives came the moment papa jeon scored a position as a nutritionist and mama jeon became a physical therapist so that’s how jungkook got acquainted with the world of fitness and finding interest in the way his parents could take care of people

however, the moment he fell in love with basketball was when he saw his mom’s basketball tapes. all the glorious videos of her scoring that winning shot and zooming around the court with such swiftness and agility he damn near got whiplash from trying to keep up

and from that moment on, he wanted to play too

of course, his parents were very ecstatic about that and enrolled him in a community team and he excelled so damn quickly

for the next nineteen years of his life, he played basketball and loved every damn second of it and along the way he found an interest in computers too. (let’s just say he read a few books that his high school computer teacher gave him and he was determined to take apart a computer and put it back together - he succeeded) and so that is why he has a full ride to SU with a basketball scholarship as a compsci major

 anywho, seeing jungkook on the court is honestly a sight because you would expect him to be stomping around, too slow for the muscle all over his body, but jfc no he is so goddamn quick and agile. he could be on one side of the court and somehow end up right in front of the opposing member to block for his teammate to make that shot

he’s a great team player really, not much for the glory and usually to himself, but on a handful of occasions he’ll surprise even his members with a half-court shot

he doesn’t care much for the glory of the winning shot, just the feeling that basketball gives him when he’s on the court, gaining callouses from the ball, and running around until he can’t seem to feel his calves and god the happiness on his parents’ face always gets to him

so yeah, that’s jungkook as a basketball player - a really sweet and hardworking boy who loves to make his parents happy and to make his teammates happy too

remember how i mentioned how he’s a compsci major?

well, you’re actually a compsci minor because you find computers really fascinating and cool and unfortunately quite a few others do too so it leaves you two at a disadvantage as first years compared to the upperclassmen so you’re both resorted to taking these random General Education (GE) classes i.e intro to philosophy

it’s hard not to notice jungkook that’s for sure, especially when he’s lugging around his sports bag and when he’s cute as all hell in your honest opinion

you once told this to your friends and they never let you down about it either. honestly they’d tell you when he’d walk in or try and get you to sit by him but the closest you’ve ever gotten was probably sitting one person away and that was on the final exam day

on a few occasions you two would actually inadvertently glance at one another during your discussion (dear god none of your friends let you live, best believe that) but you were always too shy to approach him and he was actually quite shy himself because let’s face it baby boy is a shy nugget who only knows basketball and comp sci and some philosophy (barely tho lol but it’s okay cuz you knew the bare minimum too)

anyway, that quarter you didn’t get to know him as you wished and both of you ended up regretting that because damn y’all thought each other was cute. for him it was especially seeing you laugh with your friends and for you it was that little perplexed expression on his face when the professor would mention soundness and the theories about the concepts and dshgjds yeah you really wished you had taken that chance to tell him he was cute on the last day like you initially planned but was too chicken to do

but guess what?

the next quarter you see him in your intro to computers class and somehow you two end up seated by one another and although there’s no seating chart, it just becomes a thing that this is that person’s seat the moment they sit there more than twice and so you both are seated not too far from one another

your hair is a slight mess and your eyes are puffy while you sip your coffee and he looks fairly content albeit sleepy with his hood drawn up and you both don’t even realize it’s each other until hour two of the lab goes by

you’re both starting to wake up and looking around at each other cuz people are shuffling around and some are moving closer toward one another and then it strikes you that the kid with slightly ruffled hair is very familiar and then it hits you and you’re just like “wow ok holy shit cute person from that philosophy class!!!!”

but this isn’t enough to get you two to start talking to each other

that self-established seating chart has already set in notion and so there’s no honest chance in getting to know him from that and so you kinda give up because you’re very sure he probably doesn’t remember you and dammit your TA is standing over your shoulder staring at your codes with narrowed eyes (rip you but he was just playin’ cuz he liked what you had)

this whole exchange isn’t to say you both never talk because on this chance encounter of finding out why he lugs that damn nike bag around all the time comes full circle

so you do work at the infirmary, usually filing papers and the like since it’s sort of the track for your major and on a particular day comes in jungkook!

he looks like he’s in a lot of pain clutching his shoulder and the nurse gets him to do the necessary papers and shovels him off to the doctor who tells him that he has a pretty bad fracture and he won’t be able to play for the rest of the season (at least that’s what they think)

reason: some asshole from one of the other teams hit him a little too hard after one too many unnecessary roughness calls and on this blow jungkook fell a little too hard and too awkward for it to just be another minor bruise and yeah :(

he’s pretty devastated about this and he has to go through a bunch of testing and whatnot and as an assistant you usually run around making copies until you have to hand off some paperwork for him to fill out

prior to this, you noticed how most of his appointments took up his time during the labs and the lectures so you nicely set a copy of your notes with his, adding in things you figured he might need to know from the lecture since he was unable to attend and the moment he receives the large stack his eyes grow wide

and you’re like “oh so i remember you from my comp sci class and i figured you might these notes… -oh and those are just basic info that the doctor wanted you to sign off on and the like”

he blinks at you, still pretty surprised at your kindness (and totally not freaking out that such a cute person is chatting from him aka the same one he’s wanted to talk to for a while) but he flashes you a small smile (and omg you love it so much) and thanks you

coincidentally most of your volunteer shifts are during his appointments and whatnot so you talk every now and then, usually about the notes and eventually about your majors

the doctors and the nurses think it’s absolutely adorable so sometimes they let you two chat a little longer than usual just for young love to bloom <3

this exchange goes on from some time until he finds the guts to ask for your number when you hand him the large stack of notes in this rushed blurting of words i.e. “soumiwaswonderingificould-maybe-getyournumber??”

you: “wait what”

he looks down, cheeks quite pink, “can i -um- get your number? since y’know we have comp sci together so it’d be easier to like study for exams and talk about it and stuff…. yeah….”

you grin and nod, scribbling it onto one of the notes and the two of you can’t deny the butterflies and erratically beating hearts y’all have going on

you both see each other during his check-ups but he’s healing quite quickly thanks to having such strong bones so he may not be out for the rest of the season like they thought thankfully and so when he’s fine and his check-ups are less and less

so along the way, you two end up talking day by day even sitting by one another in your comp lecture because you’re semi-friends now and it’s just nice to have someone you know in that class since none of your other friends were interested in comp sci like you so nowadays you’ll text one another about the class and how your days are and those little butterflies emerge whenever you wait for his text or receive a response and you’re just like “dsjghsdjgshdgs”

little do you know he’s honestly the same exact way and his roommates jimin and taehyung are always like “???? WHO DAT? :D” and jungkook’s like “lol gtfo bye”

anyway, one day you text him about the upcoming final bc you’ll be damned if you miss out on your chance to actually ask his kid out and studying together and he agrees but it’d have to be after his practice and you ask him about his shoulder and if he’ll be good to play at championships

and he’s like “oh yah!”

and you’re like “o: woah, can i come watch? i haven’t gone to a game and i wanna see you play. prolly treat ya out if you win”

and ok, at first he’s a lil’ shy but he says “ok sure, just say you’re with me at the door” and you do and jin (the RA)’s at the entrance like “O: WHAT MY FLOOR CHILD HAS A GIRLFRIEND, THAT PUNK KSJHFJS” but before he can say anything else one of jungkook’s buds urges you to sit by the front and you do until you see jungkook and he looks so nervous, glancing around until his eyes settle on you and he just flashes you a grin and wave which you return as well

the game is going by swimmingly and you can’t help but watch jungkook especially because even though he’s the power forward he’s also very conscious of his shoulder which you were extremely worried about until you feel like you can finally breathe when your school wins and you stand with the crowd cheering like crazy

out of everyone tho he actually approaches you first with a grin and you’re congratulating him and he feels so elated he really just wants to take you up in his arms and kiss you tbh but he has self control and mercy bc he’s sweating like crazy

ngl tho he looks crazy attractive in your opinion

anywayy, as you two are talking since you did tell him that you’d buy him food on his win, the rest of the team’s like “yooo kook! party at jackson’s!!!! you in??”

and although you’re disappointed you tell him you won’t mind if he goes but he turns to you and says with a grin “nah i got plans already” and jsdkghsjgh the team goes “oOOOOoooooOoooo” but y’all ignore them and he goes “i’ll be back ok? gonna get cleaned up and we can get food?”

so you’re content to wait by the locker room for him, grinning af bc holy shit the cute boy you really wanted to get to know last quarter is going to dinner with you!!!!!

meanwhile jungkook’s so nervous and stuff cuz he plans on confessing and stuff since it just seems right and his teammates clap him on the back like “yo you got this bro!!!!!!! goood luck tho jin definitely sent him some salty messages and warnings to be safe ahahaha

and ok so y’all go to dinner at this nice ramen shop and it’s really great! and you two are laughing your asses off about how this one time oneo f his roomates taehyung got stuck in between the washing machines because he was so certain he could fit and how they had to call the fire department to get the boy loose and yeah ahaha

and he’s just in awe with how damn beautiful you look when your laughing and he just blurts out “you have a really nice laugh” when you ask him why he’s staring and you’re like “o: oh thank you…. you do too”

and he says “i wanna hear you laugh more and be the reason why you do….” he lets out a deep sigh, appearing a lot more nervous than before, “i like you a lot. i think you’re incredibly cute and i love that you love compsci as much as i do and talking to you these past few weeks have made me happy and god i really wanted to kiss you after the game but i didn’t want to scare you and i feel like this is a lot less eloquent than in my head so i’m sorry”

and you’re just in awe because damn you really planned on confessing first but you can’t deny the smile spreading on your face and you tell him “kook, i like you too. and i’d really like it if you kissed me, by the way”

and he’s all wide eyed but he grins and after y’all eat and you’re strolling around the city with his arm draped over your shoulders, you guys stop at the top where it overlooks the city lights and on a particular moment when you both are still and quiet and glancing at one another you lean in and do it

and it leads to a shocked expression on his face but he lets go of your shoulders and puts his hands on either side of your face and kisses you again

and ahh it’s just so damn sweet and neither of you can stop grinning because damn it really worked out as you both hoped

dating jungkook entails a lot of visits to his practices after you’re done with volunteering where you’ll come by with ice packs and water and snacks and usually you’ll bring enough snacks for the others who absolutely adore you for that

you also have a tendency to fuss over him whenever he overexerts himself because he’s a very big overachiever in sports and academics and sometimes you gotta threaten to withdraw your kisses and affections just to get him to settle down honestly

his roommates were so happy to hear how things turned out for you two and they go out of their way to tease him whenever you’re around and dear god Jin

well when he found out you two got together, he saw y’all holding hands and he literally sat you both in the lounge, brought out some snacks and just chatted with you

to jungkook, this was horrendous but you loved chatting with jin because he’d lay out a bunch of things about kook like how he isn’t the cleanliest and you shouldn’t be surprised to find anything and everything under his bed and how there was one time when jungkook spent an hour googling how to work the washer and dryer were right by the bulletin board in the room and that’s when kook lost it and dragged you away

it was then decided that jin approved of you tho

bc after the season when everyone is still training after, jungkook’s shoulder was bothering him and he refused to admit that he might’ve overexerted it and you stormed over to the dorm and scolded him for not taking proper care of himself before running around just to grab some ice packs and just a mini kit of dealing with this brat and jin just knew that you’d take care of this kid so he leaves y’all be and even closes the door to the dorm tho you pay no attention as kook starts opening up to you

even on days when he feels his worst like he feels like everyone depends on him and he’s not sure if his abilities are good enough since his shoulder’s constantly bothering him and all you think to do is give him words of advice and kissing him to let him know that he isn’t alone

because although you count on him, you want to be there to support him and well…. jimin and taehyung aren’t in the room and with the ice pack on his shoulder, you climb atop the bed, sitting on his lap and kissing him with more and more fervor that he reciprocates

you convince him to let you take care of him and you do indeed~

the one day he actually loses a game (bc hey no ones perfect) and you’re there doing your best to comfort him he just tells you how much he loves you and is grateful for you being there

and holy shit this is the first he’s told you this, you tell him you love him too and god he looks significantly happier

on days when you’re at your worst, he tries his best to get your mind of it, taking you on walks to your favorite places and carrying you when you’re too tired

other days he’ll even forgo practice, finding the frog leaps on the stairs worth it, when he can pick you up after your volunteer shift just to surprise you with snacks and a semi-well made bento box and boba and it’s just so damn sweet ok

you and jungkook manage to complement one another in the best way possible and when you’re both overexerting yourselves you’re there for one another to tell each other to chill

to say the least, both of y’all have never been more grateful for a philosophy class even if you both suffered incessantly in that damn class

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Valentines Challenge - “You Don’t Know How Lovely You Are” (Rated NC17)

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine go to Blaine’s apartment ... (2163 words)

Written for the Klaine Valentines Challenger prompt day nine "Be My Forever"

Chapter 3 of the story “Come up to Meet You”

Chapter 1 - Come up to Meet You

Chapter 2 - Nobody Said It Was Easy

Read on AO3.

They’re not drunk.

They barely drank enough alcohol throughout dinner to get tipsy.

And the little they did drink, they burn off laughing and cuddling in the taxi on the way home, making out in the stairwell on the way up to Blaine’s apartment, fighting with the front door because Blaine’s hands shake too much to get the key in the lock the first five times, slow dancing in the living room while they kiss some more, stripping off each other’s clothes to the rhythm of the music, eager to get to bed but not ready for this to end.

To prolong it, they converse while they dance and kiss and undress, exchanging little nothings, a background breath of conversation so it doesn’t seem like they’re there just for sex.

“You know, I love your apartment, Blaine,” Kurt murmurs while he undoes Blaine’s bowtie. “I love all this space. It’s rare that you find someone willing to commit to a two bedroom apartment just for themselves.”

“Well, it helps when you have a ridiculous amount of disposable income.” Blaine chuckles bashfully, working at the buttons on Kurt’s shirt with less success than he would like. “With the market the way that it is, sometimes I feel bad having a spare room just to store my instruments.”

“Are you kidding?” Kurt helps with the buttons, relocating Blaine’s hands down to his belt to speed things along. “I’d kill for my own sewing room.”

“But your loft is huge!” Blaine nibbles Kurt’s earlobe.

“And cold …” Kurt gasps when Blaine’s teeth lightly graze his skin “… and damp. I can’t leave any of my fabrics lying around. Everything would end up moist in the morning. It’s also in a scary neighborhood … and kind of lonely …”

“Oh, Kurt …” Blaine pauses between kisses to look in Kurt’s eyes “… I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Blaine found out on their third date that he and Kurt had a tremendous amount in common aside from being from Ohio. They were both in show choir in high school. They had both been bullied for being gay. They both moved to New York with dreams of someday performing on Broadway.

And they were both lonely.

Blaine lived alone by choice, but it wasn’t something he was used to. He’d gone from living with his mom and dad, to attending boarding school, then one plane ride later, he was alone. He doesn’t regret his decision not to live in the dorms. There are benefits to having his own apartment that far outweigh the benefits of rooming in a dorm. But he’s made one or two stupid decisions because of loneliness.

Decisions he’d rather forget.

Kurt moved to New York with his best friend – a plan they had conceived their junior year - but shortly after, she scored a role on Broadway, which segued into her own TV show. The show was canceled after the second episode, but she had moved to Los Angeles to film it and, since she had an agent finding her work, decided to stay.

She didn’t come back for the rest of her stuff. Kurt had to pack it up and send it to her.

As happy as Kurt was for her, he was sadder for himself. He had lived the dream of moving to New York with his bestie for a grand total of about six months before it ended.

But now Kurt and Blaine had each other. And if Blaine had his way, Kurt would never feel lonely again.

When they’ve gotten as far as they can removing clothes without breaking apart from one another, they stumble into the bedroom to sort out the rest. They trip over pant legs and hop to grab socks, chuckling and giggling and outright guffawing when Blaine’s misstep over Kurt’s feet lands them in a tangle on Blaine’s bed. They kiss and touch and whisper and smile, and all of the anxiety from earlier which caused Blaine’s subconscious slip of the tongue bleeds into obscurity.

Dating Kurt has been so easy. They meld together seamlessly. They complement one another effortlessly.

But making love to him is even more simple. It’s being alive, in all its vibrancy - in its bright colors and its soothing, muted shades; its symphonies and its lullabies. Kurt knows what he wants. It surprises Blaine how much. Blaine fumbles only a few seconds asking, “Did you know how … I mean, did you have an idea of how you wanted …?” while Kurt wordlessly produces a condom and rolls it down Blaine’s length, then a bottle of lube seemingly from nowhere.

It’s like a magic trick, but then everything Kurt does seems magical.

Kurt isn’t shy about asking for what he wants, another surprise considering a confession from days earlier where Kurt mentioned feeling like the sexual equivalent of a baby penguin back in high school, how he felt like puberty didn’t really kick in for him until his second year of college. He guides Blaine’s hands, commands gently, “Touch me, Blaine … there, please … no slower … yes, yes, just like that … now, kiss me …” so that there’s no doubt in Blaine’s mind, no question that Blaine can please him. Because he is, simply by following Kurt’s lead, and Blaine can’t get enough of him. He can’t get enough of kissing him and caressing him, figuring out the speeds and angles that make him beg, make him moan, make him fight to remember words that make sense, and make him forget how to breathe.

Blaine watches Kurt in amazement as he slides over him; watches the faces he makes that revolve around a single, blissed-out smile; watches his eyes as they lock on Blaine’s eyes, becoming more black than blue as he climaxes, full of Blaine’s body and beneath his weight.

“Oh, Blaine.” Kurt mutters the only phrase he can that means anything for the moment. And the sound of Kurt’s voice whispering heavy in Blaine’s ear, its deeply entrenched meaning expressed succinctly using only two simple words, makes Blaine shudder. Blaine had forgotten that something as wonderful as this existed in the world.

He’s so thankful that Kurt came along to remind him.

Blaine slowly sinks in to Kurt when his orgasm builds to the point that muscles start to become useless and cognitive thinking begins to fail. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s torso so he can be as close to him, as one with him as he can be. And even as he starts to fear that he may be crushing Kurt, his weakening thrusts driving into Kurt’s hip bone, he feels Kurt’s arms weed around him and hug. One hand slides down his spine to his ass to push in and hold, and that’s when Blaine lets go.

“Oh, God,” Blaine moans, cumming inside Kurt’s body. (In a condom, but still. It might lessen sensation, but it doesn’t block out Kurt’s heat, or his tight squeeze.) “Oh, Kurt. Oh ... God …” Blaine mumbles into the soft skin of Kurt’s neck, breathing him in and breathing out moans of his name. “Oh, Kurt … Kurt …”

“That’s it, baby.” Kurt massages the nape of Blaine’s neck, laying kisses against skin whenever it comes within reach of his lips. “Oh, Blaine …”

Blaine buries his face into Kurt’s collarbone, breathing fast against his chest as Kurt continues with soothing strokes up Blaine’s back, kneading twitching muscles till they begin to relax. With each breath, Blaine loosens his grip and raises his head. God, that was good for him - better than he remembers it being with anyone else, and sure as hell better than masturbating at home alone. But he needs to know …

“So …” Blaine pants, hoping that the words he wants �� suave words, romantic words – will come. But, unfortunately for Blaine, unless he’s singing, words are rarely ever his friends “… what did you think?”

Kurt looks at his anxious boyfriend, calms his own breathing. His smile, which had been blinding before, becomes blasé. He shrugs. “It was fun.”

Blaine’s jaw drops. “Just … just fun?”

Kurt’s mouth twitches in the corners. “Fun’s not a bad thing, per se.”

“I …” Blaine suspects he’s being teased, so he doesn’t argue. He tickles. Kurt squirms to get away, but Blaine’s on top of him, weighing him down.

“Blaine!” Kurt cries, throwing his head back with laughter.

Blaine takes advantage of his exposed neck, not just with kisses, but with zerberts. “Just fun, huh?” Blaine remarks between Kurt’s squeals. “That’s all?”

“No, no, no, I was joking! I was joking!” Kurt exclaims. “It wasn’t just fun. It was amazing. You’re amazing, and incredibly sexy, and completely mind-blowing.”

Blaine stops his assault. He lifts up on his hands and knees. “Really? You’re not … you’re not just saying that?”

“I’m not just saying that,” Kurt says, pulling Blaine’s body back down. “I swear. You’re wonderful and awesome and talented and … and …” Kurt’s attention is suddenly pulled by the sound of Blaine’s phone buzzing on the bedside table, wondering how and when it even got there “… you’re getting a text message, I think.”

“Hmm …” Blaine reaches over, not budging an inch off Kurt’s body in order to get it. He looks at the message on the screen and groans. “Oh, give me a break.”

Kurt scowls. “Is it him?”

“Yeah. Dammit! I told him to stop texting me.”

It didn’t take long after meeting Kurt for Blaine to figure out how his catfisher might have gotten his phone number. The week prior to him receiving the text messages, he’d put up a notice on the student bulletin boards at school trying to sell a few old guitars. That was the only way he could think that anyone could get his number. He didn’t even have it listed in the student directory.

Unfortunately, Blaine couldn’t change his phone number without throwing his life into a huge upheaval. Besides, he still wanted to sell those guitars. He’d have to put his new number on the notices and, if the catfisher was persistent (which they seemed to be by the amount of new Please, text me back, Blaine. We need to talk messages he got in a week) they’d still be able to get a hold of him.

Blaine went to the police. They said they would look into it if they had time, but that more than likely they wouldn’t be able to help him. They recommended he block the number and report it to the donotcall registry as well as his service provider. They also told him to record any incident of further contact just in case.

The officer assured Blaine that catfishers rarely ever come after their victims in real life. The odds of anything but a few annoying text messages coming from this were slim.

If Blaine ignored them, they should just go away.

It was the lengthy verbal equivalent of a shrug.

Blaine did as they suggested, blocked the number and reported it, but that only stopped the messages for a couple of days. Soon they came back from a different cell phone number.

Blaine has been ignoring them, but they’re still frustrating.

“Here. I have an idea.” Kurt holds out his hand for Blaine’s phone. “May I?”

“You may.” Blaine hands Kurt his phone, no idea what he has planned.

Kurt switches it to camera mode. He scoots closer to Blaine and puts an arm around his shoulders. He raises the phone up, adjusting until they’re both in frame. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” Blaine smiles wide for the camera.

Kurt snaps the picture. Then he attaches it to a message and sends it on its way.

“There. That should give whoever-never a clue that you’re mine now.”

“Let me see.”

Kurt hands Blaine his phone and Blaine checks the sent messages. There he sees the picture. It’s a really good picture, if he does say so himself, even if the two of them look like they’ve just run a marathon, hair sticking out, faces flushed, obviously naked even though all he can see is their bare chests. Underneath the picture, Kurt had typed:

Don’t contact Blaine again. He’s very, very busy making love to his devoted boyfriend so kindly fuck off. Hugs and kisses, the real Kurt Hummel.

Blaine nods in approval. “I think so,” he agrees, setting his phone aside. “Devoted boyfriend, hmm?”

“Absolutely.” Kurt rolls over onto Blaine and kisses him sweetly. “Hopelessly devoted.”

“Hmm, I like that,” Blaine says.

“Me, too.”

“So …”

“So …?”

“Your message did say that I am very, very busy making love to my boyfriend.”

Kurt wiggles his eyebrows. “It did say that, didn’t it?”

“It did.”

“Well, then. We’d better get started,” Kurt suggests, eyes dark, smile even darker, “but this time, I get to be inside of you.”

“Oh, God,” Blaine moans, Kurt sealing his intentions with a kiss.