#WE ARE STUCK HERE FOR ANOTHER FEW MONTHS FELLAS.

[generalsmemories]

I suffered but at least he's thriving.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Little Updates! + Music-Fics-Requests

Hello my dear angels, devils, humans and in-between creatures of the day and the night, I hope you are all doing wonderfully :)

So. I'm still behind on my writing/posting schedule because, to put it very mildly, I've been going through a breakdown hahahaha last month, it was my birthday which I don't quite enjoy, and a few days later my dad suffered an accident - and that, my dear cryptids, triggered chaos and crisis in my life HAHAHAHA

I used to be a skeptic of the earth-shattering powers of Saturn's Return when you reach your 30s, but lo and behold, it didn't take Saturn even a WEEK to make itself known

My dad is fine health-wise, but it was quite traumatic for me and I'm still trying to figure things out regarding the repercussions of everything that happened. So, things have slowed down a LOT when it comes to EVERYTHING in my life while I'm trying to put it all back into place.

I'm tip-toeing around the details 'cause I really don't want to openly talk about it, like I said, still going through the motions

I DO WANT TO WRITE THOUGH, I MISS IT.

I've said it before, writing is my therapy. I'm finishing last year's Vergil Halloween special, and I will be posting soon, I hope.

But I've been wanting to do the music writing thing again! SO!

For now, I'm gonna take my last year's Spotify Wrapped playlist as I've done before, but I want to add some songs didn't make the cut last year Ghost I'm staring at you, so I'll just make a playlist for writing here, with a bunch of songs I think would be nice/fun/interesting for the Spardaverse HAHAHA

SO! HOW ARE WE GONNA DO IT?

Just send me an ask, with a number and a character - just remember, I write Dante and Vergil with y/n s/o and Nero with Kyrie.

For now, I'll be doing just the three of them, but if you are an unhinged little fella and suggest something with another character that ends up having an interesting song attached to it, I might write it as well, ask at your own risk *side eyes*

Let the memes come

That's it. I just wanna go back to having a little fun with writing again and once I'm stuck again in survival mode after all that happened in the last couple of weeks, this little music game might help ^^

And it might be fun for you too! Oh, do put something like "hey, it's for the music-fic ask" so I know what's about as well! I might get lost on my asks forgive me

Hope to write a lot more so I can get back onto my bigger projects soon, like Nemesis and Survivor's Blood! I won't give up on them, I just need some ~time~

Hope to see you guys on my asks!!

[sea-owl]

Ok more stony. During the whole time travel shenanigans what if Tony runs into Steve during the war? Like before he gets iced. Some issues arise and now Tony is stuck there with cap pre icing and it explains why steve looked at him in that strange way the first time they met at shield. And why he always seemed to be searching for something from Tony. Tony finally gets sent back to the present and says something causing Steve to realize he remembers now

You know, I think I read something like this before, but I do love the concept.

So let's say that when Tony posts Avengers 1, Tony is messing with teleportation, looking to jump from one place to another. Possibly via two checkpoint devices. As he's in the testing stages, something was off, and instead of going from his workshop to his penthouse like he planned, Tony ends up in Brooklyn during the 40s. Tony has no idea how to get back. Hell, he has no idea what went wrong in the first place!

Some shenanigans happen, and Tony ends up meeting skinny Steve. That meeting turned into Tony moving into Steve's apartment with him. Steve insisted he had the room for a fella down on his luck, Tony does the math in his head and realized Bucky had recently been deployed. His heart went out to Steve. They fall into a pattern over the next few months. Skinny Steve starts looking at Tony like big Steve does when he thinks Tony isn't looking, . . .and holy shit was Tony falling in love?

Despite being in love, Steve is still Steve and is constantly trying to join the war effort. His frustrations at being constantly turned away melt when Tony runs his fingers through his hair and say, "Don't worry darling, your time will come."

When Steve gets the serum, things change. First, Tony now has access to the equipment he would need to make the adjustments to go home. Second Steve is big now, the perfect physical soilder. They still won't let him fight. Instead the army has him do bond shows (which Tony secretly recorded for his amusement when he gets back to the present.) Steve would rant to Tony about how he has the ability to do more, and he should! Tony would run his fingers through Steve's hair, saying, "Don't worry darling, your time will come."

Finally, the time comes when Steve finds out Bucky's team had been captured and no one was sent to get them. Tony hugs Steve one last time, running his fingers through his hair and says, "Darling, perhaps this is your time to make the change you want to see."

Steve is gone when Tony wakes up. Tony is gone when Steve rescues the soldiers.

Traveling back to the present was rough and bumpy, and the landing knocked the air out of Tony's lungs. He's back in the workshop though, and Steve is there too.

Immediately, Steve begins to fret over the genius. "Tony! Where have you been? You just disappeared, and Jarvis couldn't find you for a month-"

Without really thinking about it Tony reaches up and runs his fingers through Steve's hair saying, "Don't worry darling, I'm here."

Steve freezes for a moment, his head leaning into Tony's caress. A flash of realization hits him, and he throws himself at Tony.

"Steve wait-!"

"No," Steve said, his voice practically a growl. "We waited 70 years, no more."

Tony shouldn't have found that as hot as he did.

[emerysaks]

Picking up the Pieces

“I’m telling ya’, Gloria, all that soulmate stuff is nonsense.”

“And I’m telling you, Angie, it’s real.”

“Oh yeah?” Angie stared at her coworker skeptically. “If that’s the case, then why don’t I have someone’s name scrawled across my wrist or something?”

Carol sighed and tossed a dishrag at Angie. “We’ve gone over this, silly. Not everyone gets a name. Some people can only see in black and white until they meet their one true love. A few people can even feel the other person’s pain. That’s how some nurses have met their soulmates.”

Angie rolled her eyes. “You know anyone specific, Gloria, or is this stuff you’ve read in Cosmo?

“Honest to God, Ang! Carol said her cousin’s best friend’s sister saw color when she met her fella.”

Angie laughed. “Well, I’ve never seen in black and white, and I’ve got enough scars and bruises from derby to have met a soulmate by now.” She held up her arms and nodded at the little knicks and lines that dotted her forearms. 

Gloria shrugged and looked at the faint name that looped around her wrist. “All I know is this name appeared when I was fourteen.” She sighed. “And now I’m twenty-four.”

Angie stopped laughing and reached for Gloria’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t make fun of it. I know how important it is to you.” She read the name on her friend’s wrist and smiled. “And who knows? Maybe Andrew Stevens will come for a latte one of these days.”

“Maybe,” Gloria agreed wistfully. 

“But until he does, you’re still going to the club for Friday night frenzies with me, right?”

Gloria grinned. “Of course I am!”

“Thank God,” Angie laughed. “Carol keeps sending drinks to women on my behalf, and I’m running out of polite ways to tell them that it wasn’t really me.”

“The trials of Angie Martinelli,” Gloria exclaimed dramatically. “If only we all had problems like you.” 

“You laugh,” Angie grumbled, “But it’s tough. Why can’t I meet a nice girl that I can bring home to my family? Someone who has her life together.”

Gloria nudged Angie. “And beautiful?”

“That’d be a nice bonus,” Angie agreed.

Gloria looked over the counter. “Maybe someone like your favorite English customer?”

Angie sighed. “Don’t I wish?”

“You could ask her out, you know.”

Angie shook her head. “No! She’s way out of my league.”

Gloria glared at her. “She is not out of your league.”

Angie stared back incredulously. “Have you seen her?” She waved a hand in the woman’s direction. “Have you heard her talk?”

“I have,” Gloria smirked. “Her accent is adorable.”

“Adorable,” Angie scoffed. “It’s sinful.”

Gloria raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is it?”

“Stop!” Angie swatted her with a cleaning rag. 

“I’m not the one who has a crush on the English woman with a sinful accent.”

Angie turned away and huffed. “I am never telling you anything again.”

“She comes in three times a week, always sits in your area, and makes a point to ask you how your day is going. Ask her out already.”

“She’s friendly,” Angie explained.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone else,” Gloria argued. 

“So, she’s selectively friendly,” Angie said. “That doesn’t mean she’s interested in me.”

Gloria folded her arms and glared at Angie. “Do you even know her name?”

Angie blushed. “She always pays with cash.”

“Angie! She’s been coming in here for a month.”

“I call her English,” Angie confessed as she took a fresh pie from the kitchen window and set it down on the counter. “It slipped out one day. She didn’t seem to mind, so it stuck.” 

Gloria narrowed her eyes. “I swear to God, if you don’t get her name today, I will take matters into my own hands.”

Angie gasped. “You will not!”

“Try me,” Gloria pressed. 

Angie picked up a knife and began to slice the pie. “Okay, I’ll ask her what her name is before she leaves today. Happy?”

Gloria nodded. “Before she leaves. Promise?”

“Promise,” Angie said. She went to make another slice but dropped the knife when a glass shattered across the room. 

“Ow!”

Gloria looked at her in concern. “Did you cut yourself?”

“I don’t think so, but…,” Angie looked at her left hand in confusion as a small wound appeared along her palm and a faint trickle of blood welled along the edges. “I don’t understand,” she said. 

“Um, Angie,” Gloria murmured.

Angie looked up to see Gloria pointing across the room to a booth. A booth where her favorite English customer was currently kneeling, picking up the pieces of a shattered coffee cup as a line of bright red blood bloomed across her palm.

Angie swayed and felt Gloria’s hands settle on her waist. 

“Easy there, Ang.”

“This isn’t possible,” Angie whispered. 

“Looks like it is,” Gloria said. She nodded toward the English woman. “You want me to go over there?”

Angie shook her head. “No. I promised you that I’d get her name.”

Gloria shook her head. “That was before…” she waved a hand between Angie and the woman.

Angie grinned weakly. “Well, no time like the present, I guess.” She wrapped a towel around her palm and reached for a clean towel.

“Good luck!” Gloria smiled. 

Angie felt like weights were tied to her ankles as she walked across the room and knelt beside the woman she only knew as English. 

“I am so sorry,” the woman told her. “I knocked it off the table when I reached for my phone. I can pay to replace it.”

Angie smiled. “It’s okay. Happens all the time.” She reached for the woman’s injured hand. “Here, let me wrap that for you until you can get somewhere to clean it up.”

English smiled in relief and allowed Angie to take her hand. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

“Not at all,” Angie said.

The woman looked at the towel wrapped around Angie’s hand. “Oh no! Did you injure your hand, too?”

Angie took a deep breath. “Not exactly.”

English looked at her quizzically and then down to Angie’s left hand. When she looked back at Angie, her eyes held understanding.

Angie let out the breath she’d been holding. “You know I’m Angie, but I only know you as English. But I figure maybe I should know your name given that….” She looked down at their mutually wrapped hands. “Look, I don’t even know if I believe in all this soulmate stuff-”

She stopped talking when English placed her uninjured hand over Angie’s hand. 

“I’m Peggy Carter,” the English woman said.

“Angie Martinelli.”

Peggy smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Angie.”

Angie laughed. “You, too, Peggy.”

Peggy looked at their hands. “I think we should tend to these cuts, but perhaps later this evening, we could get something to eat and discuss this?”

Angie smiled. “I would love to.”

Peggy looked delighted. “Wonderful.”

Angie looked at the shattered cup on the floor beneath them and grinned. Gloria would be insufferable now. But, as she looked back at Peggy and saw how the Englishwoman was looking at her, she decided it was worth it. After all, she might have just found her soulmate. 

[glacialmarch]

headcanon; loyalty.

i realise the fatui abandoned their own in the chasm &, well, perhaps the traveller will see consequences for la signora’s death in the updates to come but that’s not guaranteed, so despite there being only 3 shreds of canon tsaritsa-hints i am now officially canon-divergent :p

i don’t fucking like the whole abandons their own thing. that cicin mage in the chasm? who refused to leave her post, who would murder her own brother for deserting- i want that loyalty to be repaid goddammit. i want you to be able to say that the fatui are rotten bastards, but they have each other’s backs.          not all of them obviously there are plenty of individuals who jump out ( looking at you @pyrtui - & obv what looks to be most of the harbingers ). but i just want that to be the baseline vibe among the ranks, even if to very varying degrees.

what’s the point of a god without some divine protection?       yes you may die in a foreign land. likely. but. they’ve been in the chasm for more than long enough. as soon as any word gets out that there are still some, who literally LOYALLY STUCK TO THEIR POST DESPITE IT MEANING A SLOW POINTLESS DEATH... i want her to be like aight fellas hold the fort i’ll brb & then carry her little ones outta the chasm in heR BIG STRONK BICEPS.

i mean not like that bc they’re big but not big enough for all of them & that’s wildly inefficient ppl are dying as we speak but u fucking get me right. no, she’s not usually at all available - there’s a reason you’re sent out to do your job. you’re capable of doing it & know the risks. but... she had the operations in the chasm interrupted by the osial debacle. & i can imagine a “it wasn’t worth the cost to go get them” when it’s supposed to be other fatui going in some numbers into now hostile liyue AND the fucking chasm to scrape together a few starving people.

but personally when i get a new potted plant & it doesn’t do well & i’m like damn son ur not worth the effort & months later it’s still growing, dying & mangled but refusing to quit---YEAH THAT’S WHERE I’M LIKE AIGHT SON DAMN UR MINE NOW I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT I’LL ADD MINE. HERE WE GO ROLLS UP SLEEVES I AM NOW UR DEDICATED PLANT DADDY.           so.

i’m saying that lil cicin mage got out alright after everything even if many, many didn’t c’:

also i continue to stand by the traveller being bitch-slapped into another dimension. rosalyn shared her dream gdi.

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

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

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

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

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[chudleycanonficfest]

young dumb thrills

Day 26, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: young dumb thrills Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Gryffindor pals Prompt: Studying together Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Ron likes to swear, a lot. Also, the lads enjoy not speaking very nicely about the women in their year.

“Merlin, this potions essay is a pile of wank. I'm so fucking bored.”

Seamus snaps his book shut, his Irish lilt filling the dorm room and disturbing the peace. Until the rude intrusion, Ron had been attempting to write a Transfiguration essay on the benefits of Non-verbal spells, although he was struggling without Hermione’s usual help.

Four heads, belonging to the various bodies strewn around the place, lift from their books and parchment. The sixth-year Gryffindors throw frowns and obscenities at their friend.

“Well, it was your idea for us to do something together,” Dean comments, letting his head loll to the side to rest on his arms, his eyes closing.

“Yeah, but when I suggested it, I had a night of debauchery and booze on my mind. Not being shut up here on a Friday night.”

Ron laughs and abandons his parchment on the bedroom floor. He rolls off his tummy then wriggles into a sitting position, his back flush against his trunk. It allows him a better view of his dorm mates.

Seamus is sat up in his bed, resting against the headboard, his now shut Potions book by his feet. Dean sits in one of the window seats whilst Neville is perched next to his bedside table, crooning at his Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Harry is in one of the cosy armchairs next to the fire, switching his obsessive gaze between the Marauder’s Map and the Half-Blood Prince’s Potions book.

“Debauchery?” Ron scoffs. “What kind of stuff did you think we’d be getting up to stuck in Gryffindor tower? You tried sneaking in the Firewhisky, but you were thick enough to let Filch catch you. McGonagall has got us on lockdown because of you, and we can’t even sneak out the window for a fly ‘cos it’s pissing down outside.”

Frowning, Seamus retorts, “At least I tried. Anyways, you and Potter don’t seem to have any difficulties getting yourselves into trouble, despite the rules and detentions and any other fucking thing the staff throw at you.”

Harry, who has been a silent observer up until now, finally pipes up, “You know, I’d gladly trade places with you, Seamus, if it means getting a quiet year without Voldemort trying to kill me.”

The other four boys shudder at Harry’s use of You-Know-Who’s real name. Once he has recovered, Seamus waves a dismissive hand before flopping down onto his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know that Voldie prefers to wait until the end of the year before trying to kill you. You could at least enjoy yourself up until then.” A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “How did it come to this, lads? We're all virile, good looking fellas. Well, apart from Nev. Yet, here we are on a Friday night, with only each other for company.”

“Oi!” Neville frowns, swivelling to face his friends with his hands on his hips. “At least I managed to get a date for the Yule Ball. Dean didn’t go with anyone.”

“Yeah, but I have a girlfriend now.”

Dean’s cheeks darken as Ron’s eyes narrow. The redhead’s stomach churns. Sure, he’s adjusted to catching Dean snogging his sister in the common room now, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. He knows the type of stuff Dean gets up to, the sort of things he says behind closed doors. He’d rather Ginny didn’t get involved with a guy like Dean, but Ron knows it’s out of his control.

“Out of all of us,” Dean continues, “It’s only Weasley and me who have birds.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ron joins in, mostly to distract himself from his overprotective urges. Ginny is more than capable of looking after herself, and she’s told him enough fucking times, too. “And I could be downstairs with Lav right now, but you were so adamant that we were going to have a good night. Anyway, you can take the piss out of Neville all you want, but I bet you haven’t even snogged a girl, Seamus.”

The Irish Gryffindor’s eyes brighten with glee. “Yeah, I have. Your girl.”

Ron isn’t surprised at the emptiness he feels at the jibe. His feelings for Lavender fizzled out ages ago, and he’s been trying to finish things for weeks. The only problem is he can’t seem to say or do the right thing to scare her away. He should probably come out and say it, try this honesty thing Hermione is always harping about, but Ron likes his balls attached to his body. Plus, it’s kind of nice having a girlfriend and feeling like someone wants him.

Still, he has to keep up appearances. He reaches behind his trunk and fishes out one of his trainers from under his bed before hurling it at Seamus. The guy moves fast, rolling to the side to avoid being hit in the head as he bursts out laughing.

“And a good kisser she is too,” he adds.

“Who do you reckon is the best snogger out of the whole of Gryffindor?” Dean muses.

Ron mutters, “Aren’t you still dating my sister, Dean?” 

He knows his anger is irrational, Dean has done nothing wrong, but the images of the guy snogging Ginny then moving on to the next girl to compare them fills his brain, making him feel sick.

Seamus interrupts, still laughing. “For the guys? Then it’s me for sure. But I don’t know who’s the best out of the girls. I’ve snogged quite a lot of them. Some of them are amazing, and others are shit.”

“Fuck off have you,” Dean laughs too. “You’ve snogged Lavender, and that’s it.”

“Nah, I’m being honest with you. Weasley turned me down. It’s only her and Granger I haven’t snogged, truth be told.”

Ron sits bolt upright, all his fury at Dean forgotten as his heart pounds an irregular beat against his ribcage. However, he tries to arrange his face into a calm look. A few times, his secret crush on Hermione has almost been exposed, mostly via mutterings in his sleep. But so far, he’s managed to keep a firm lid on it, or so he believes.

“I don’t think Hermione has snogged anyone,” says Neville.

Dean shakes his head. “I’d put five knuts on her having snogged someone. She went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, after all.”

“Doesn’t mean she kissed him.” Seamus shrugs.

Harry pipes up again. “She did.” He blushes as all eyes settle on him. “Only a small one, though.”

The rest of the room erupts in fits of laughter, but Ron can’t hear it over the roar of his heart in his ears. He digs his fingernails into his leg, ignoring the flare of pain as they break the skin. So, Harry knows that Hermione snogged Vicky, too? How many people did Hermione tell? How the fuck could his best friend keep something like this from him? Why hasn’t anybody told him?

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron can see that Harry is staring at him, but he refuses to meet the git’s gaze. His blood boils around his veins.

“She must be a good kisser then if she managed to keep Krum interested. Not exactly a looker, is she?” says Seamus, in between giggles.

Ron whips his head around to glare at Harry. Despite instigating this latest uproar, the specky git does nothing to stick up for their best friend. Their dorm mates are tearing apart Hermione’s honour right now, but Harry already has his nose buried back in that fucking map, tracing Draco’s path through the school. Harry is bloody obsessed with the Slytherin prick. He probably fucking fancies him.

“You can barely even see she has boobs when she’s in her jumper,” Dean agrees.

“Yeah, and don’t get me started on her hair.”

Neville frowns. “Now, come on, guys. I think you’re being a bit mean. Hermione’s alright.”

“Oohhh, she’s alright, is she?” Seamus rounds on Neville now.

Dean joins in, wiping his eyes. “Aww, that’s nice. At least someone likes her.”

No longer in control of his reactions, Ron jumps to his feet, trembling hands clenched at his sides.

“Enough!” he roars, loud enough so that everyone has their attention pinned on him. “Leave her alone! What the fuck has she ever done to you?” He gestures around the dormitory, daring any of them to speak up. “Don’t get her involved in your bullshit talk.”

“Oh, so it’s alright for us to discuss snogging your girlfriend, but not Hermione Granger?” Seamus slides off his bed, squaring up to Ron. “You need to work out where your loyalties lie. If Lavender found out, she wouldn’t be pleased.”

Ron eyes his friend, trying to determine if he should punch him. After a moment’s deliberation, he decides it’s not worth it. Ron is a prefect and is supposed to be setting a good example. Plus, there’d probably be a fight, and he isn’t sure he has the energy for that tonight. Seamus has a good right hook, after all.

“Fuck off.” Ron pushes past Seamus and strides towards the door, yanking it open. He leaves the dormitory without looking back, pulling the door closed behind him so hard, he’s sure everyone in Hogsmeade can hear the resounding thunk. The dormitory bursts into another round of hysterical laughter, fuelling Ron’s rage.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he reaches the common room with a loud huff, only to meet a startled Hermione at the foot of the staircase. Ron’s face floods with heat as she eyes him up and down, a disparaging look on her face.

“Ron, wh—”

He doesn’t give her the chance to finish her question.

“Leave me alone.”

Stomping towards the portrait hole, Ron barks at the Fat Lady to open without saying please, before heading out. He picks a random direction, then walks.

Fuck the lot of them.

Fuck his friends for being dicks about Hermione and girls in general. No wonder Harry wanted to keep out of it all. And fuck that specky git for not jumping to Hermione’s defence. Fuck Hermione for choosing now to break her months of silence, only to piss him off even more. But most of all, fuck his fucking feelings for making him react so defensively about the fucking witch in the first place. 

He’s never going to live this down, for fuck’s sake.

[dystopia-fantasy]

Always read the job description -Part 1

Max was a fit, well built man. He had been body building since he was 14 and now In his early 40s he has the body of a god, but is slowly getting to the age when he needs to find another way to make money. He knows he can't take part in his competitions anymore, and needs to take it easy. He got great grades in school and college, proving people wrong that you can't be a nerd in a jock body.

Max had some money saved and was able to keep up on bills for a few months but needed a job to keep his large house, in the rich area of the city. He got a call from a business he applied to a couple of days ago, telling him to go in for an interview tomorrow, and if it goes well he will be sent straight on a trip for the company. He gets his new blue suit ready to be worn the next day.

The morning arrives, it's 5am, and Max wakes. He does his normal morning routine, making breakfast, working out, taking a shower, then gets his suit on ready for his early morning interview. Driving to the office building in the middle of New York, it's at least 50 stories high, and is made of mostly glass, and is one of the newest modern builds in the city.

On arrival a large man in his late 60s wearing a suit greets him, "hello sir, you must be max, Sir Mammon is on his way down to collect you, may I say what an amazing suit you have on today".

Max looks the man up and down, seeing the man's huge belly flowing out from under his dress shirt, showing a massive W shape, "thanks mate, you might want a bigger shirt" then points to his belly.

"sorry if I offended you sir, but all clothing has been chosen by Sir Mammon himself" Mammon is the big boss of the business "if you would like to make a complaint I can print you a form".

Max laughs, "No thanks, I'm gonna sit over there, tell Mammon im there".

"will do sir, have a great day" the man says while max walks away paying no more attention to him.

About 15 minutes later a young handsome slender man walks over. "Max is it?" He says behind Max.

"yes.." max says confused.

"I'm Mammon, nice to meet you" he smiles holding his hand out for a shake.

"oh hello Mammon, is wasn't expecting someone so young, no offence of course" max shaking his hand.

Mammon let's out a little laugh, with a little grin "it's ok max, people don't expect someone like me to own such a remarkable company like this one would you like to follow me, we can go up to my office, this is Mark by the way, he's my Butler". Mark is another large man aged around 50, he has a massive belly stuffed into his suit, hes huffing and puffing, like he ran a marithon, "don't mind him, most of my staff are..."

Max cuts him off "fat?"

They both laugh, "you could say that Max" the elevator arrives and they all walk in, "now max, you did read the whole advertisement correct?".

Max didn't, it's was 48 pages long, who would read it all? He just looked at the wage he would get, it started at $100,000 per month. "Yes, I did".

"that's good, most guys are more keen to keep their body's but I guess if your struggling you'll do anything."

Max now confused just nod's and watches though the glass elevator as they fly up to the top floor.

"where here sir" Mark the butler says peacefully in his British accent.

They walk into the room, and Mammon sits at his desk pouring himself a glass of wisky, and Max one too. Max looks around in aww, the room was covered in art work, with the walls painted in golds and whites and had its own bar. "How do you have all this money?" Max asked.

"a mix of many things, this company, and a few investments paid for this whole building, I have many other ways but we're not here for that." Mammon points at the seat," take a seat max" Max sits the chair is made from leather and is very comfy. "So, max, I've gone through your file, I think you're perfect for the job."

"so, does that mean I have the job?" Max replies confused, expecting to be asked a question.

"well yes, if you agree to the terms"

"terms?" Max still confused.

"well yes, you expect to be paid 10times the amount the normal person for this job without any terms or conditions?"

"well I didn't know.." Max gets cut off.

"Max let me simplify them for you. You sacrifice your body to the company, and in trade you get, $100k X the amount you weigh paid into your account per month, So if you weigh 450lbs, you get $450k a month."

"what the fuck? That's sick, I'm not doing that, I'm leaving" and with that Max got up from the chair and stood face to face with Mammon, with the desk all that is separating them. "Your sick, you fa**ot".

With that Mammon's eyes glow a bright red. "I'm a what?" Max got through back against the chair by an invisible force. "Max you could have just left with your freedom, but now look what you've gotten yourself into".

"Let me go, What the fuck?" Max says while traped against that chair, it chreeking with the force of his muscle.

"I'm a fucking demon max, I'm never going to 'let you go'" he took a second break to mock max, "now, what did you say? Fa**ot, was it?".

"fuck, I didn't mean it" the force pins him down harder, trapping his arms against the leather chair arms, and pushing his legs against the underboard. "Please let me go home, I won't do it again."

"shut up max, the process is already starting".

Max looks down to see his body deflating, his pecs turning from mountain peaks to a flat surface, his giant powerful arms turning weak and light. And then looking up he sees a whole new man infront of him.

"Not as big as I thought I would get, but boy I'm big" he took a break to admire his new giant arms and pecs.

"what the?" Max looks in confusion, "how did you do that? Give me them back".

"what are you gonna do max? I'm an infinitely powerful being and you, your an old man, or at least your going to be."

"I'm only 42, what do you mean, going to be?"

"you see I don't have my infinite life span on earth, so to stay alive and in this fit body, I absorb anything a guy has and I want. In your case, these massive muscles, but then I need to absorb their life force as well, in order to make sure I don't age."

"what do you mean life force?"

"well, you have roughly 50 years, worth of life left, I'll drain about 20 years leaving you in your future crippled body at around age 60, force you to work for the company for another 20 years, then when your 80 drain the rest of your life, which after you get fat won't be much, then you got to hell."

"man your sick, let me go, LET ME GO!".

A bright red light shoots from Peters hand enveloping Max's whole body, and he starts to age, his face wrinkling, skin dropping, eye sight worsening, hearing getting muffled, and mind changing a little. "Max, you ok old man?".

"yes sir" max was confused in his mind, why did he say sir?

"max, you ready for your Cruise? You can have tones of food for the next 6 months."

"Yes sir, I'm ready" max lifts his head, opening his eyes to see a new blurry room from his new old eyes.

"you're gonna need these from now on" Peters eyes glow and a new pair of glasses appear on Max's face he can now see clear.

"thank you... Sir", max blinks seeing Peter infront of him, "what have you, done to me".

"Max, I've turned you into the perfect office worker, old, brainiac, who is soon going to get fat and live the rest of his life, in an office chair for me, don't worry for accomodation you live here now, we have apartments on floor 30 to 40, all workers live here, it's policy, we have also sent a team to your house to, well, blow it up, that way nobody is going to be looking for you, becuase we can plant a body"

"give me... My.... Body back, give me... My.. life back."

"Max we both know that will never happen, now enjoy a life of gluttony, and prepare yourself for hell, that's gonna be worse then anything I can do to you." Peter snaped his fingers and a red glow enveloped max.

Recovering from the glow max sees two men infront of him with a trolly of sorts between them. "Is he awake" one says,

"I don't know" said the other.

"im- awake" max said in a much older raspy voice.

"good we can now start the feeding" the man on the left said, his body as muscled as a god, ripped from head to toe, and we can see everything.

Max rubs his eyes under his glasses and opens them again, "Fucking hell, put some clothes on both of you".

Both men where nude, one a ripped god, another muscled up but with a big gut. "Clothes are banned here mate" the beefy man said in a type of Australia accent, "you cant say much fella, look at that tiny pecker".

The men laughed pointing at Max's shriveled up old cock and low hanging balls, "what the fuck"max tries to move his arm to cover him but his arm doesn't move, he looks down to see him stuck in a chair, with a cut out hole under his ass, and straps tying him down, trapping him. "What... Are you gonna do to me?" Max asked sceared.

The men laughed at him again, "no need to act to sceared, we're here to feed you for the next 6 months".

"but... Sir said..." Max get cut off.

"he said you'd be going on a cruise? Fucking hell are you dumb? He's a demon, you shouldn't trust a demon" The muscled guy says.

"bro let's start the feeding we have 50 other guys to see and I wanna watch football Tonight." The beefy guys says, and in unison both their eyes glowed a bright red, showing they where demons too.

The trolly between them had several items on top, one long tube, which floated in the air for a few moments before shoving itself down maxes nostril and deep into his stomach, his head flipped back trying to wriggle it out, but it was stuck. Another item moved into his frame, a IV bag holder, holding a giant barrel type object made of glass, and two large bags floated of the table again and started to drain into the barrel, and the tube connected itself to it, starting a flow of the liquid into maxes stomach.

"done" the beffy guy said. "Now we'll be back tomorrow to refill your barrel, and clean you up if you make a mess, but youll basically be unconscious for the next 6 months, due to the drugs were feeding you."

"so enjoy your sleep mate, you'll litterally wake up a different man." The two men laughed and walked out, max tried fighting the restraints but in his crippled form could do nothing. The door slammed and locked, and the room fell dark, max screamed begging into the darkness to be let free, and to have his life back, which he had only an hour before, but nothing happened, nobody came. He felt the drugs taking effect, but tried to fight back, but it was useless, his body slumped and loosened. His mind fell blank as he drifted of into his 6 month hibernation.

[meteor752]

Dsmp Hogwarts AU, except it’s all the characters and I go into why they are what they are, please reblog this took a long ass time

Man, what a title Huh? Anyways, this will obviously go over the characters and not the content creators, because in some cases those are vastly different

Also, before we start, I will go over an important thing that I will mention probably a few times, and that is the difference between Hufflepuff Loyalty and Slytherin Loyalty.

Both of these houses value loyalty, but in very different ways. Take for example that you’re a spy who has their best friend as their partner, and you’re out on some super important mission. Let’s also say that your partner got shot and is close to death, and the only way to save them would be to abandon the mission entirely.

A Hufflepuff would try to complete the mission because it would be the best for all, while the Slytherin would abandon the mission despite the fact that it could result in countless deaths, just to save their friend.

See it as Selfish Loyalty vs Selfless loyalty. Both are great things to have, but are still different.

Anyways, on with the show

Tomathy Danger Kraken Careful Innit

I have seen people try to argue that this boy is a Hufflepuff because of his loyalty and such, but gosh darnit everyone this child is a god damn Gryffindor. I mean, one of his main character traits is that he’s brash and too brave for his own good. The reason he got fucking exiled is because he burned down George’s house without thinking of the consequences, and then just screamed at Dream without thinking of the consequences. The same goes for Ghostbur’s “death”, it was because he had no real plan except Stab Dream with an axe. So yeah, Gryffindor

Wilbur Soot

Slytherin, 100%. This man has created one and a half nation, one entirely out of spite, he was both a general and a president, he’s a smart lil fella, and he managed to hold his own against the god of the server. I don’t even thing you guys wanna argue with me here

Tuberculosis Underscore

This one is tricky, because it’s really between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for me. Like, he does possess the Hufflepuff loyalty™ plus he is very kind, but he’s also one of the more logical and observant characters we have in this server (The bar is very low let me tell ya). But I think I will have to go with Ravenclaw, just because like, the boy invented nukes. He built fucking nukes. So yeah, a very chaotic Ravenclaw that will spout bee facts at you, be prepared

Technoblade

My man is a Ravenclaw, no doubt about it. I mean, he started talking about an old greek myth in the middle of a war? Just Ravenclaw things amiright?

Philza Minecraft

I will have to go with Slytherin on this one, simply because of the large amount of Slytherin Loyalty, but also because of his cunningness and resourcefulness, but for real this was very tricky, simply because I don’t like to think about c!Phil too much because as some of you may know, I kinda hate him (Not the cc though, obvs, he’s awesome)

Ranboo My Beloved

Hufflepuff. This boy’s ideology is literally “Choose people, not sides”, he’s an honest and compassionate boy who works hard, and has a very open mind. He’s literally the by the book Hufflepuff

Eret

Honestly, Slytherin. I mean, they are ambitious as fuck, both shown by them betraying L’Manburg for the throne, but also by working hard towards their redemption arc. They are also a good leader of the smp, and in general a great role model to have

Nikki Nihachu

This one is actually difficult, simply because Nikki has gone through quite the character arc the past couple of months. She started out kind, sweet and loyal, a classic Hufflepuff. Then she joined the syndicate and straight up tried to kill a child, which is less Hufflepuff but who am I to judge. But in her core, as seen through her discussion with Jack about Tommy’s revival, she is still a good person that works hard for what she believes in, wants the best for everyone (Despite sometimes working in her best self interest) remains kind through it all. So yeah, Nikki is a Hufflepuff, just a bit of a sadistic one. But we can’t all be perfect ya know?

Fun Jonathan Michael Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy Soot

Ah, my favorite character, and also one of the best examples of a Ravenclaw. And I ain’t saying that just cuz I’m a Ravenclaw, Fundy is one of the most Ravenclaw characters out there. He’s creative, Clever, Spontaneous, Witty, Curious, Sharp, and a real trickster. The idea of Ravenclaws being the goody two shoes kids that always does their school work is just false, we never do our Homework and instead sit and read about things we find interesting, and Fundy is a good example of that. Also he was quite the eager learner during the Dreamon Hunters arc, which again is a good example of a Ravenclaw. So if Ranboo is the by the book Hufflepuff, then Fundy is the by the book Ravenclaw.

Dreamwastaken

I’m pretty sure it’s confirmed that Dream is actually a Slytherin, and I ain’t arguing with that. This boy is cunning, sly, a leader, traditional, Self-Preserving, and a master with words. There is not much more to say here, apart from the fact that Slytherins main colour is literally green, so it all checks out, this boy is a snake.

George Lore

Mr not found over here really is hard to pinpoint down, simply because his main character trait is his apathy, which isn’t really a trait for any of the houses. I was discussing this one with my girlfriend, and both of us were pretty clueless of what to do with him. I was thinking if Hufflepuff since they take the ones that don’t fit anywhere else, but then I was reminded of the most recent Dream XD stream, which showed us one thing, and that is that George is clever, observant, and Sharp Minded, all the traits of a Ravenclaw. Sure, he could also be Slytherin as he was both cunning and sly as well, but I think Ravenclaw fits him more personally.

Sappitus Nappitus Boyhalo

Finally we have another Gryffindor, there’s been a serious lack of them on the list. My man is a fighter, he’s bold, he’s brave, he’s passionate, he’s confident, and he doesn’t really think that much of the consequences of his actions (Cough the pet war cough), so yeah this boy a lion.

Punz

Ah, Punzie, the mercenary themself. Tbh, I know very little about them because Punz don’t get involved that much in lore unless they are hired for something. I mean, they were in the eggpire, but even then they were barely involved, which is sad cuz I like Punz. But what we have seen of Punz is that they are someone who does not care about you or what you want, as long as you pay them. They are power hungry and self preserving, which means that I have to put them in Slytherin.

Jack Thunder1408 TV Manifold

The boy who I can’t help but be sympathetic towards. Jack is also a hard character to pin point because of the reason that he’s gone through quite the development. Jackie boy is a very broken character that has literally been through hell, so it’s hard to properly sort him. He’s quite confident and clever, yet cunning and resourceful, so for me it’s either Slytherin or Gryffindor. But I do lean towards Gryffindor more, partly because of his stubbornness and gullibility, and part because of all the fire imagery that’s associated with him. I mean, the cc described him as burning inside, he’s been through the scape of fire and death, and he burnt his nation to the ground. In case you didn’t know, Fire is the element of Gryffindor, so yeah, another red and gold boy.

JSchlatt

Schlatt is as both charming, charismatic and calm in the early days, using subtle manipulation tactics to get his way and achieve ultimate power. He’s ambitious, narcissistic, cunning, and tyrannical, while still hiding it all behind a facade of smiles and waves. He could also be both cruel and irresponsible at times, aka the time he had an underage child drink during an event, but ya know, mistakes. So all in all, I think it’s pretty clear that he’s a Snakey boy.

QuackityHQ

As much as I love CC!Quackity, I also fucking hate him because of the many, many different directions he’s taken this character which makes it possible for him to fit in literally any of the houses. The duckie is both Chaotic and lawful, he’s both friendly and hostile, he’s a smart cookie and a fucking dumbass, so like bruh. But, I’m gonna have to go with how he is now, which is manipulative, power hungry, cruel, and strong willed. Aka, another Slytherin.

Karl Jacobs

Finally, a character that is not broken down to the point of barely making out a readable personality. Karl is a kind and funny person, who is very open to new people considering how often he gives tours to visitors and new people, and he is quite literally loosing himself traveling through time in an attempt to help people. Hufflepuff

Awesamdude

This one I know will be controversial, but I’m saying Hufflepuff on him. Sam is one of the best cases of the Hufflepuff loyalty, literally letting both Tommy and Ghostbur be stuck and ultimately die in the prison just so he wouldn’t risk Dream breaking out. Before that point he was very kind and gentle towards Tommy, literally building a robot to keep him safe and take care of him. Sam nook is a reflection of Sam’s feelings towards Tommy, and they are kind and gentle.

Dropsbyponk

Ughhhh, another tough one. Ponk is a chaotic being who is mostly neutral in conflicts, but is shown to be very open about their feelings towards those they care about, like Sam or Foolish. They seem to be have strong feelings in what they believe in, and can be a bit brash sometimes, not really caring about the consequences of their actions, which is what makes me say Gryffindor for them.

Badboyhalo

Our favorite muffin demon. I assume, I don’t know what life you live. Anyways, Bad is like the stereotypical Hufflepuff. The kindhearted, well meaning, sweet, responsible Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff that’s like in all of those incorrect quotes blogs and “Slytherin and Hufflepuff friendships uwu” posts. But for real, Bad is very Hufflepuff. He does however have Slytherin Loyalty, considering he pretty much sacrificed the entire server for Skeppy, but if you would try to convince me that Bad is a Slytherin I will just laugh at you

Skeppy

It was at this point I realized what I’ve gotten myself into with this post, which you know, not fun. Skeppy is both cocky and filled with energy, with a real ambition to cause chaos. He’s also shown to be willing to sacrifice himself for the person he loves, Bad, when he gave himself up to the egg. I’ve seen some people say Slytherin, but I’m kinda getting Gryffindor from the lad, so yeah, another lion.

Antfrost

Frosty here is a kind hearted person that for the most part seem to be along for the ride. He reminds me a bit of a parent of toddlers, with his patience and serenity towards the more chaotic people on the server, so of course my natural instinct is Hufflepuff. Buuuuut, then there’s again the issue with the egg and the Slytherin loyalty, this time towards his boyfriend Velvet who he was willing to join a cult for (relationship goals) but again, you can’t really say Ant is a Slytherin considering how wrecked he was about what he did while in the eggpire when he was released from it’s grasp. So yeah, Puffle boy

Captain Puffy

Oh captain my captain, you are such a Gryffindor. And some of you may disagree on that, stating that she’s a Hufflepuff or something (I did research before this to check what other people think, I know) but naaah, she a lion. Puffy is very motherly and protective towards other people on the server, especially the minors, but in the way that a Bear is protective towards its cub, which is gentle towards them but fierce towards others. Puffy also falls natural in the role of a leader as seen with Pro-Omelette, but that is kinda expected since she’s a past Pirate Captain. But she wasn’t the leader she was supposed to be, as she waited quite a while to act against the eggpire out of fear of hurting her friends, which lead to quite the damage towards the rest of the server. She’s also been shown to act on impulse, killing Antfrost and taking one of his lives after he killed her son. Idk if this is a good explanation of why I believe Puffy to be a Gryffindor, it sounds more like I’m claiming her to be a Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but she is a Gryffindor I promise!

Foolish Gamers

Foolish is a kind and friendly being, if not a bit naive and easily distracted. He’s also not the brightest person, in fact I’d go as far as to call the guy a Himbo, and he can be a bit skittish sometimes if he’s stressed or haven’t taken a break in a while. But despite it all, the guy is someone who’s creative and hard working, with a brilliant mind for his building. The man is an artist who can get grumpy if you suppress his creative aura, and put his heart and soul into his works. He also has a habit of getting wrapped up in big projects, and ignoring sleep or personal care until he’s finished them. This all leads me to say that Mr Gamers is a Ravenclaw, just not the smartest one. But hey, we can’t all be geniuses, can we.

Slimecicle

Slime is very naive and very trusting towards people around him, taking every word they say as a fact. He can also be a bit dark and ominous at times, but quickly shakes it off as nothing important. This all makes him quite childish, which is very hard to sort, so I’m gonna say Hufflepuff for his friendliness and move on.

Purpled Bedwars

I actually started loving this guy the minute I saw him, purely because Purple is my favorite colour, like my man has taste. Purpled, like Punz, is a guy who helps whoever pays him the most. He’s not interested in most things on the server, too busy looking out for number one (And Dogchamp of course). He’s very self reliant and resourceful, but still quite passive. He may not be the most ambitious guy, but Purpled is definitely a Slytherin (It also brings me and my girlfriend Serotonin knowing that the mercenary siblings are both in the same house, we love those two)

Hannahxxrose

I don’t watch Hannah that much, but god I love her voice, it makes my lesbian little heart happy. Hannah is a friendly person who is very naive about the conflicts on the server, thinking it all can can be solved by placing a rose (God I wish). She’s a good decorator and a good hearted person, who unfortunately fell victim to the egg’s influence. I’m going with Hufflepuff on her, but I’m honestly not entirely sure as I don’t know that much about her.

HBomb94

H is a very well meaning person that only really wants people to be friendly towards each other. He had a strict moral code and he keeps to it, as shown where Fundy tried to get his help with blowing shit up. He’s very helpful to those who ask and is willing to back up his friends when it’s needed, which makes me say that the friendly totally not dirty cat maid is a Hufflepuff.

Connoreatspants

I just want you all to know that I’m writing this before Connor’s lore stream that surely will just go against everything I say because fate hates me, just so ya know. Connor is not a person that does stuff on the server with lore and he for the most part keeps to himself, so this is a bit hard. Connor also has this thing where he likes to say things just to confuse him, and also making a bit of cursed lore, but he’s still a fairly humble person. He does lie and steal a bit, and has this habit of moving into other people’s houses, but I digress. I’m actually leaning towards Ravenclaw on him, for some reason, so that’s what I’m going with until I have more of an established character.

ItsAlyssa

I know she has left the server and stuff, but she was one of the original members so it would be a crime not to include her. Alyssa is a bit chaotic, often going on killing sprees, or burning down the trees outside of L’Manburg. So I’m placing Alyssa in Gryffindor, but to be honest I don’t really know at this point.

Callahan

How do you sort a person who does not speak, stream, or show like anything of his personality? The answer is, you don’t. Hufflepuff is the house of those who don’t fit in anywhere else, and that’s where I’m placing him.

Vikkstar123

Please log onto the server I’m begging you, I didn’t watch you as a kid and honestly know nothing about you. From what I’ve seen of Vik he’s a very humble person that tries to stay out of it all, instead forming a land together with his bro Lazar. Honestly my instincts say Ravenclaw and I trust my instincts, so I’m putting him in Ravenclaw

Lazarbeam

Lazar was actually a big part of the exile arc which I realized after already have written his, so now I gotta rewrite it. Lazar is fairly ambitious on the server, and has the goal to obtain the most powerful objects on the server just to rival the other strong members of the smp. He’s especially against Tommy, and aims to do a lot to be the opposite of him, aka well respected and not a war criminal that got exiled (Totally fair goal). Despite that, he was able to show some empathy to the British child, even going as far as to give him a disk during his exile. This all makes me say Slytherin on him.

Michaelmcchill

Newest boy. Michael is a very apathetic person, showing little to no empathy towards most people’s trauma on the server. The person he does feel empathy for however is Dream, who of course did nothing wrong and is locked up in the prison which is just horrible oh no. Michael just truly does not care about what you’ve been through (as of now) which is why I’m gonna say Slytherin, because he does have Slytherin loyalty towards Mr Was Taken.

TL;DR

Tommy-Lion

Wilbur-Snake

Tubbo-Eagle

Techno-Eagle

Philza-Snake

Ranboo-Badger

Eret-Snake

Nikki-Badger

Fundy-Eagle

Dream-Snake

George-Eagle

Sapnap-Lion

Punz-Snake

Jack-Lion

Schlatt-Snake

Quackity-Snake

Karl-Badger

Sam-Badger

Ponk-Lion

Bad-Badger

Skeppy-Lion

Antfrost-Badger

Puffy-Lion

Foolish-Eagle

Slime-Badger

Purpled-Snake

Hannah-Badger

HBomb-Badger

Connor-Eagle

Alyssa-Lion

Callahan-Badger

Vik-Eagle

Lazar-Snake

Michael-Snake

So all together we have Seven lions, Ten Snakes, Seven Eagles and Ten Badgers. I think that’s fair tbh

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl’s life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

Basically a Supernatural/The Walking Dead crossover fic where Chuck starts the zombie apocalypse in S14E20 ‘Welcome to The End’

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Language, minor descriptions of blood

Chapter 2-

Then...

"So, tell me again. What's this case?" You asked, leaning forward in the backseat as you rested your arms on top of the front seat between your brother's while Dean drove the impala.

"A young boy was found in the woods this morning dead, from blood loss. His entire body was drained of blood and reports say that he had three puncture wounds on his neck." Sam explained, scrolling through the various reports and articles on his phone.

"So, we're hunting a vampire?" Dean questioned because that's what it sounded like, but why would a vamp leave the body out in the middle of the woods? And since when did they leave three puncture marks? That didn't make any sense, vampires were smart and always covered their tracks.

It took over 14 hours of driving and too many games of 'I spy' for three adults to be considered normal, but you finally reached the small town in Georgia where the incident occurred.

The town seemed like one of those shitty redneck towns that everyone just drove through and never stopped at, but you guys stopped.

The family had been living at the local trailer park that sat right on the outskirts of the woods, so you started there first. While Sam and Dean went over to the families trailer, you made your way across the park knocking on other trailer doors to ask a few questions and to tell people to stay out the woods. Because if this really was a vampire then going into the woods was just suicide.

You walked up to the last trailer taking note of the pickup truck and motorcycle parked out the front as you knocked on the front door.

"Who are ya?" A man questioned opening the door a moment later as he stared at you in confusion.

He was wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt and a black leather vest over the top. You stared at him for a moment, taking in his piercing blue eyes before you realised you should probably say something.

"Agent Cooper, FBI. I need to ask you a few questions." You explained.

The man just roll his eyes not believing a word you just said which was fair enough because you were literally just wearing a flannel and jeans, most cops would be in uniform or some fancy suit.

"Who's at the door?" A male voice questioned from further inside the trailer and within a second another guy appeared in the doorway.

He was about 10 years older than the first guy, but there was no mistaking their resemblance. They were definitely brother's. Hell, they were both wearing the same leather vest too.

"Hey there sugartits, what can we do for ya?" The older brother asked his eyes flashing up and down your body as he got a good look at you.

You rolled your eyes, not letting the redneck intimidate you as you crossed your arms over your chest and raised your eyebrow at him. The younger brother elbowed him in the side, silently letting him to shut up as you tried not to smile. 

You sighed, pulling out your fake badge from your pocket and flipped it open, holding it towards them. In an instant both their expressions quickly sobered up when they realised that you weren't lying. Well, technically you were, but they didn't need to know that.

"Like I said before, Agent Cooper, FBI. Now, I need to ask you guys some questions." You repeated, tucking your badge into the back pocket of your jeans.

"This about that guy who died in the woods? The cops were here all morning, don't see why the FBI are needed, didn't he just get attacked by a wild animal or something?" The older brother questioned and you sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

Yes, that's what the police had told the public because if they said that the body had been completely drained of blood with no idea how it happened, the town would turn to chaos.

"Yes, but I still need to ask you fellas a couple questions. Have you seen or heard anything strange lately? Anything that was out of the ordinary or anything like that? I don't care how stupid or crazy it sounds, any little thing helps." You insisted, glancing between the two brothers who both seemed to actually think about the question as your eyes caught a glimpse of what looked to be a crossbow leaning up against the table in their trailer behind them. So, these guys were probably the other kind of hunters, they must go out in the woods a fair bit then.

"What about those tracks ya saw the other day, little brother? Ya said those weren't normal." The older guy suggested, looking over at his brother who shook his head, almost seeming embarrassed that his brother had bought the topic up.

"What tracks? Like deer tracks for hunting?" You asked, which seemed to catch both their attention as their eyes snapped over at you, trying to figure out how you knew they were hunters. "Can see your crossbow from here. Figured you were either hunters or liked archery. Now, what tracks?"

"S'nothin', was just out huntin' a few days ago 'n came across some tracks. Ain't ever seen tracks like that before, looked like a wolf track, but ten times the size. Didn't make any sense." The younger man muttered.

You didn't say anything for a while as you thought back to the other people you had questioned who all said that had been hearing loud howling for the past couple of nights, which you just figured were wolves, but now you weren't so sure.

"That actually helps me a lot. Is there anything else you have seen or heard? Any howling during the night or something?" You asked, but they both shook their heads.

"Nah, I sleep like a log, don't hear nothing during the night." The older one answered causing brother to snort, shaking his head.

"That’s 'cause ya can't hear nothin' over ya snorin'." He muttered causing the older brother shove him into the doorframe with a mumbled 'do not' causing you to smile slightly watching the two brothers.

"Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else or see anything else, don't hesitate to give me a call." You responded, pulling a small card from your pocket as you handed it to the younger guy. "Just stay out of the woods until this thing is sorted out, it's not safe out there." You warned and they both nodded before you walked away.

-

"Well, this is cosy." You commented, throwing your duffle bag over your shoulder as you followed your brothers into the motel room that they booked while you were still at the trailer park talking to the locals.

It was a small room, two beds to one side with a cracked television on the wall on the other side. There was a couple chairs, a small table and one door at the far end of the room which you figured was the bathroom. As far as motels go in small towns, this probably wasn't half bad.

"We've had worse." Dean shrugged, throwing his bag onto the first bed as you closed the door behind yourself to find Sam standing in the middle of the room, slightly hesitant about taking the other bed.

"Take it, Sammy. You guys know I don't need much sleep. I slept for a couple hours on the drive here and that's all I need." You stated, dropping your bag onto one of the chairs as you sat down on the table. Being part Angel had it benefits, your body didn't need much sleep. You could easily run on a few hours for a week, unlike Cas who didn't need to sleep at all.

"So, tomorrow we head to the hospital, check out the body and go from there. We still think it's a vampire despite those tracks one of the locals saw? Large wolf tracks seem odd, but this has vampires all over it." Dean spoke up and you looked over at him to find him now lying on his back with his arms under his head as he looked between you and Sam.

"Let's just see what those puncture marks on his neck look like first. I'm gonna take a shower, who's turn is it to shout dinner?" Sam asked over his shoulder as he pulled out fresh clothes from his bag.

"Deans." You immediately responded, causing him to glare at you as you stuck your tongue out at him with a grin. "Sam and I bought last month on that ghost case. Your turn big bro, grab a six-pack while you're out too." You added with a smirk and a second later Dean threw his pillow at you which you caught easily.

"You're never getting that pillow back." Sam chuckled as he made his way towards the bathroom and Dean quickly looked over at you with a questioning look.

You just hugged the pillow to your chest to show that you had no intention of giving it back causing him to flip you off before he grabbed his wallet and keys.

-

You ended up sitting on one of the chairs, resting your legs up on the table while you sat back and watched some shitty cartoon while your brothers snored softly from the beds. The crack through the middle of the screen was frustrating, but after a few hours, you didn't even notice it.

By the time the late-night cartoons finished and the bullshit morning shows and news started, your brothers finally woke up and you already had two coffees from the café down the road sitting by their bedside tables waiting for them.

"Y/N, you're amazing." Sam commented, his voice muffled slightly from his coffee cup that was pressed to his lips.

You laughed shaking your head at him as Dean sat on the edge of his own bed, drinking his cup as well.

"I know." You replied, but before you could say anything else your phone began to ring causing you to frown because who the hell calls you at seven in the morning?

"Hello? Who's this?" You answered, picking up the phone when you didn't recognise the number as you held it to your ear.

"It's Merle Dixon. I need ya help." A male voice responded, causing you to frown even more because who the hell was Merle Dixon? "This is Agent Cooper, right? Ya gave us your card yesterday, said to call ya if anything else outta the ordinary happened." The man explained and suddenly it clicked. The brothers from the trailer park.

"What happened?" You asked, sitting up straighter in your chair which seemed to catch Sam's attention as he looked over at you, but Dean was too focused on his coffee to notice anything at the moment.

"It's my brother. He went out huntin' last night, never came home." Merle explained.

-

Now...

Taking a deep breath, you hit the call button and leant back in your chair. You held the phone to your ear while it rang and just as you were about to hang up, he picked up on the last ring.

"Hello?" Daryl answered and you sighed with relief at his gruff, but familiar voice.

"Daryl." Was all you could say as you took a deep breath, trying to force the tears to stay away.

How were you meant to tell him that something was going to happen? That you had lost Jack? That you had killed Chuck? That your powers weren't working? How were you meant to tell him what happened?

"Y/N? Ya never call, ya always just appear outta nowhere. What's goin' on?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm, but even you could sense the slight worry in his tone.

You and Daryl rarely talked over the phone. If he needed you, he'd pray and you'd hear him and be at his place within the second. Or if you ever needed him you'd just go to his place and he'd always be there, but you couldn't exactly do that now. Not with how your powers were acting up.

"W-we lost Jack... We lost the kid." You said, unable to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks and you wished like hell that you could just go to Daryl's right now and let him hug you.

"Shit." Daryl sighed as he tried to process what you just said.

He'd never met Jack before. You refused to let Daryl anywhere near the bunker or your family because you couldn't put him in danger like that. Every single relationship Sam and Dean have had ended terribly and you couldn't risk putting Daryl in danger. Whenever you weren't on a hunt with your brothers you were usually at the trailer park in Georgia with him, the two of you made it work. 

"Come over. I'm at home with, Merle. But, I can get him to leave if ya want, he's probably 'bout to go to the bar anyway. Just come over here, ya shouldn't be alone right now." Daryl said a few seconds later and you covered your face with your hands wishing like hell that you could.

"I-I can't. My powers, there's something wrong. They're not working properly." You tried to explain, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"What do you mean they ain't working? Y/N, what happened?" Daryl asked, his voice slightly less calm and you knew he was really starting to worry. 

"I told you last month that Jack lost his soul?" You asked and Daryl hummed letting you know he had heard you before you continued. "It got bad, it got really bad. Shit happened and I killed Chuck, but he killed Jack and now..." You trailed off, not really sure how to tell him about what Chuck did because you didn't even know what he did.

"Wait, ya killed God?" He questioned in disbelief and you just nodded before you realised that he couldn't see you.

"Yeah. He made a gun that could kill anything in hope that one of us used it to kill Jack because the kid was getting out of control... But, we couldn't and then Chuck started to kill Jack, so I grabbed the gun and shot him, but it was too late. Jack was already dead." You explained, hating the silent tears that were trickling down your cheeks. "Look, before Chuck died he said that 'the story was over' and said 'welcome to the end.' We don't know what it means, but something is going to happen and it's going to be big. Chuck did something to my powers, but there's more to come."

"What's gonna happen?" Daryl asked, although by the tone of his voice it was clear that he didn't want to know the answer. "If ya can't come here, I'll drive to ya. It's less than a days drive-"

"No, it's too dangerous. We don't know what's gonna happen, but whatever it is... it's gonna be bad, Dixon. Stay with your brother and keep your phone on. I'll call you if I hear anything else, but I gotta go. Just... just please be careful, Daryl. I can't lose you too." You said, your voice wavering slightly as you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself.

"I will. Whatever happens just take care of yourself 'n your brothers. I love ya, Angel. M'sorry 'bout Jack." Daryl replied softly and you couldn't help the small smile forming on your lips.

"I love you too, Dixon. I'll talk to you later." You said before hanging up the phone as you dropped it onto the table and wiped your teary eyes.

You missed him. You hadn't seen him in person since the whole thing with Lucifer and Jack started. You didn't want to risk putting him in danger, but right now all you wanted to do was see him, but you couldn't.

"You did the right thing. He'll be safer away from us Winchesters until we figure out what's happening." Dean's voice said and you glanced over your shoulder to find him leaning against the doorway behind you with a sad smile and you nodded. He was right, but it didn't help you feel any better.

"I tried to call Rick, but he didn't answer. So, I called the station and apparently he's on sick leave or something. Deputy Walsh was very vague about where Rick was, so we couldn't get hold of him, but we called everyone else." Dean explained and you nodded again, relieved that they all knew that something was going to happen.

But, why was Rick on sick leave? Even if he was sick, he'd always answer his phone if one of you guys called.

Rick Grimes was a Deputy at King County Sheriff's Department who knew about the supernatural. He kept in contact with you and your brothers, sending you any possible supernatural incidents that he came across. His town got invaded by group vampires a while ago and you had to tell him about the Supernatural to stop him from arresting you for cutting off a person's head.

At first he thought the three of you had completely lost your minds, but he quickly realised that you weren't crazy and helped you take down the vamp nest. It had been a while since you last saw him, but it's been a while since you and your brothers had needed to drive down to King County which was a good thing because it meant nothing bad was happening down there.

"How's your shoulder?" Cas asked, appearing behind Dean as he walked into the room.

He looked over at you with a sympathetic expression and you knew he had heard your conversation with Daryl, Cas had stronger hearing than most, even you.

"I'll live. But, what are we meant to do? Just sit here and wait to see what happens?" You asked in frustration turning back around in your chair as Dean and Cas walked into the room and sat down around the table.

"We don't really have another choice." Dean sighed.

-

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

Tag Lists- I will reblog with my tag lists, so if you wanted to be added to just let me know.

A/N- Another chapter is up! Thank you all so much for your support on the first chapter, all your comments and love mean the absolute world to me and help me keep writing, so thank you. 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and until next time, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

[cowboymirio]

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~ 

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake! 

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up. 

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever 

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest 

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’) 

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet 

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3 

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY?? 

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.  

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys 

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny 

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me 

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them)  flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now. 

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh 

[anarcoqueer1994]

No More Dates

It was the summer of 1933, and Steve had just turned 15 years old. He is sitting in his kitchen with his ma, as she cooks. He's doodling on a scrap of paper when behind him he hears the door open; Bucky. Sarah never minded the brunette busting in without knocking. She sees him like another one of her kids and loves that her son has such a good friend. 

Steve hears Bucky walk up behind him, feeling Bucky's strong arm wrap around his shoulder. Steve has to focus on not blushing. Ever since his friend has started down at the docks, his already handsome body has taken on harder lines and muscles. It was not helping Steve’s massive crush on him one bit.

 He is broken out of his thoughts when the other boy starts to speak. "Good evening, Mrs. Rogers." He smiles at the blond woman at the stove. She smiles back and waves slightly.

He turns his attention to Steve. "Hey, Stevie. What'cha drawing?" Bucky looks down at the paper which Steve tries to hide. He isn't quick enough. Bucky sees. "This is good." Buck beams at the hastily sketched lips on the page. Luckily for Steve, he doesn't realize those are his lips.

"Uh, thanks Buck." Steve flashes a little smile back before turning the paper over, giving his full attention to the older boy.

"So listen Stevie, want to go out with me tonight?" Steve's  hands suddenly get sweaty. What does Bucky mean, out tonight? With him, like a date. They can't do this, two guys. Bucky sees Steve’s panic stricken face. He asks "What's  wrong? Please tell me you don’t have a shift at Mr. Green's do you?" Mr. Green owned a grocery store where Steve would bag at, one of the only places that would hire him. Bucky continues. "Please say you don't, I got us two pretty dames looking for a good time."

Oh. Steve thinks. Of course Bucky wasn’t talking about going out with him. Why would he? He got them a double date. He doesn't particularly want to go. Over the last few months, Bucky has gotten them all these double dates. But they all end up the same. Whatever poor girl who is his date, politely conducts herself but she always is more enthralled with Bucky. Oftentimes the girl only says yes to a date with him so her friend could get a date with the other man, since Bucky has made it clear that he won't go out with anyone if Steve can’t come.

But Steve would watch as the girls would whisper between themselves, teenage girls tending to not be discrete. He would see them giggle and bat their eyes at his friend, when the most he would get is an obligatory smile. He can't blame them though, he wasn’t much to look at, not like Bucky.  Steve swore Bucky was the picture  perfect man. To be honest, he catches himself staring at his friend too, jealousy  often washing over him when he would see Bucky's  hand wrapped around a girl's waist, pulling her close. He wishes Bucky could hold him like that; wanted to hold him like that back.

"No, I worked this morning. But Buck...you didn't need to get me a date. You go on and have fun. Plus I promised Ma I would help clean the oven tonight." He lies lamely.

Bucky frowns but nods his head. "Alright, Stevie…" He sounds disappointed.

Sarah, hearing the lie, shakes her head, careful not to embarrass her son while still not letting him off the hook. "It's alright, Steve. I got the oven. Just go have fun, tonight." Sarah doesn’t want her boy sitting at home. She knows that her son is a little...funny. And she knows she will always love her son no matter who he loves. But their church and society could be mean. She didn’t  want her Steve facing that. She hopes that with these dates he can find a nice girl. 

Bucky's face lights up.  "Perfect! Thanks Mrs. Rogers!" He smiles at Steve and heads to the door. 'Be ready in an hour, okay?"

"Sure Buck…" Steve says unenthusiastically as the older boy leaves. He sighs before putting his head down in his arm on the table. 

"Steve…" Sarah says softly. "It'll be fun. Maybe the girl will be nice."

Steve picks his head up slightly to look at his mom. "Ma, it always is the same. The poor girl who gets stuck with me has no interest. And why should she? Look at me."

She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Baby, you're very handsome and any one would be lucky to be "stuck with you."

"You have to say that, you are my mom. I look like those yappy dogs with the big head and tiny body. I am nobody's type." He mopes.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you stop that right now. You are going on this date tonight and you are going to have fun." She says sternly.

Steve knows there is not a use in arguing with her so he just nods and resides himself to his fate.

~

Sarah had pulled out Steve's dad's  

old grey suit, insisting on dressing the boy well for his date. He felt ridiculous, everything slightly too big. He should be used to that, all of his clothes fit like that. He wore the jacket unbuttoned hoping it would be less obvious about how too big it was. His mother let him use some of the little colgne she had, stored away from her late husband. She said he was perfect.  He knew otherwise.

He meets Bucky at the bottom of the steps of his tenement. Bucky, of course, looks flawless, hair slicked back, effortless handsome, with button down shirt rolled to his elbows. Steve thinks he is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. And then Bucky smiles. A smile Steve cherishes as it is just for him.

"Hey Stevie" he throws his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a half hug. "You look great!" 

Steve blushes. "You're lying but thanks, so do you, pal."

Bucky wants to argue. He wants to tell him he's wrong because Steve always looked great, always looked perfect to him but knows Steve won't  back down. So, he just smiles sadly at his best friend. "What are we going to do with you, man?" He asks as they start walking.

Once they get their dates, they head to a dance hall. Bucky's date is a pretty blond girl with bright blue eyes, Margaret, and Steve's is a redhead with green eyes named Dora. Steve is polite and is surprisingly light on his feet. Dora looks like she is having a good enough time as Steve tries his best to small talk with her and enjoy this date.

But it's hard because it is obvious that they both want someone else. As they danced, Steve would watch out of the corner of his eye as Bucky would twirl and dip his date, then pull her oh so close. There felt like there was something pushing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He hated himself for hating that Bucky was holding someone else. 

He tried his best to put on a happy face for his date, who had been nothing but sweet. But he noticed that she too was making eyes at someone else, a guy across the room right that she seemed to know, as he looked back equally as sweetly. Steve knew how it felt to want someone else, but unlike him, she had a chance.

He pulls her over to the table mid dance. "What is it?" She says softly. 

"You're a very nice girl, Dora. You have been incredibly kind and I have had a good time. But I'm not the one you want to be here with, am I?" Steve asks nicely, careful not to sound accusatory.

She looks down before saying "Am I that obvious? 

He laughs, showing her he is not mad. "Yea. Also... it looks like he wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him. So go and dance with him, have fun."  Steve replies lightly.

She gives him a pretty smile before surprising him with a hug, which he returns. She whispers "Thank you Steve." She holds him there a little longer before whispering  one more thing. "I know I'm not the only one of us sweet on someone else and for the record, I think he is sweet on you too." What Steve didn’t realize was that between his glances at Bucky, Bucky glanced back, an evening of missed gazes.

She pulls away and waves, without another word making her way to the other man. Steve is left dumbfounded, and terrified, and excited all at once. 

Most importantly he knows he has to get out of there, a feeling a dread that he gave himself away as a fairy. He knows she won't tell anyone other than maybe her friend...but what if others do find out. Suddenly it is hard to breathe, as he rushes out the door. 

~~

He ends up on the fire escape outside Bucky's room. The lights are out in the Barnes' residence,indicating that the family was asleep. He comes here a lot when he wants to escape. He guesses he is not that great at escaping since he always ends up at the same place. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes shut.

What did she mean he was sweet on me too? How can she know that? How could, Bucky, the boy who has been chasing skirt like it was going out of style the last few months, be into him? They were just best friends, and he was just a hopeless fool who wanted to much. What if Bucky turned on him when he found out that Steve liked other fellas...liked him.

The last thought made him shiver, made him sick to his stomach, losing the one man that means more than him than the entire universe. A tear rolls down his face, before closing his eyes again. He is so focused on his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the window open behind him and someone step out. It isn't until he feels an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him close that he realizes he isn't alone.

Bucky's voice is gentle as he whispers "Why'd you leave, Stevie?"

Steve’s  breath hitches in his throat as he feels Bucky's strong arm holding him there. He forces himself to talk "I...i just wasn't having a good time, I just wanted to leave…thats all."

Bucky's voice gains a level of worry as he replies "You wouldn’t be sitting here if that was all. Please tell me what's wrong...I would of left with you, Steve. When I noticed you were gone, I left immediately and searched everywhere for you. Your ma said you didn’t come home, so I knew you would be here. Why didn’t  you get me?"

Hearing the worry and sadness coat Bucky's  voice makes Steve feel terrible, unable to look up at him as he answers "Because, Buck, I left because of you…" another silent tear falls. 

"What..." Bucky sound confused, voice broken as he instinctively pulls away from Steve, scared whatever he did, he is making worse. "What did I do?"

Steve lets put an unamused laugh, silent tears falling more freely now as he looks at Bucky, who's  face is distorted with guilt and confusion. Steve just wants to reach up and smooth out his features back to the beautiful care free ones that typically live on his face. "You...didn't do anything, I did. I'm whats wrong here, Buck."

Bucky is torn between wanting to pull Steve into a hug and never let go and not wanting to scare away his friend by touching him, so he fidgets with his hands in his lap. "Steve that's impossible...you couldn't have done anything wrong." He sounds sincere, like he thinks Steve is perfect.

"You---" a strangle sob manages to escape. "You think to highly of me. I don't deserve it. Buck, remember when we were in school, and the other boys would call me a fairy because we spent so much time together….and I look like this?" Steve feels bad, Bucky would always stand up for him, the other boys always backing down. They never backed down when Steve would stand up for himself, often getting his ass kicked.

"Yea, those guys are idiots, still are. I work with some of them down at the dock." Bucky says plainly.

"No...they aren't, because they were right." Steve sound sad.

"What?" Bucky says again, confused more than ever.

"I'm a fairy...a pansy….I like fellas like you are supposed to like dames, Buck. And I'm so sorry….so so sorry. I'm so afraid of anyone finding out. It'll break ma's heart….everyone at church will hate me...God hates me….everyone will hate me. I'm disgusting…" Steve is shaking now, sobs freely escaping between words. He hadn't meant to say all this but it slipped out.

Bucky, unable to not do anything, throws his arms around Steve, pulling his head to his chest, gently petting his hair. "Shhh...shhh….its okay Stevie, s'okay." He repeats for awhile before whispering "If you're disgusting,  I'm disgusting." Steve gets really still in his arms, before tilting his head up to look at Bucky. "What?"

"I said, I'm "disgusting" too. I...uh like ladies, I do. I just like fellas too...especially...one fella in particular." He answers shyly.

Steve’s heart feels like it is on a roller coaster. In the same breath that he found out Bucky was also a queer...he finds out Bucky has eyes for a guy already.  Jealousy wells up inside of him, this somehow hurting more than a dame. Being a glutton for punishment, Steve asks "Who?"

Bucky laughs, arms still around his oblivious friend. "You, punk."

Steve’s heart is literally going to beat right out his chest qnd fly away. In disbelief he asks "Then why did you drag me on all those dates?" 

Bucky takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I thought it was easier this way...hide how I was feeling and get to spend time with you, thought it was a win-win."

Steve clears his throat, pulling away so he can look Bucky in the eyes, Bucky’s arms still resting on his shoulders. "Not...not for me. I...hated seeing you holding other people...that weren't me. Do you know how many times I wished it was me in your arms, slow dancing. Because…I really love you. And I know people say that you can't  know love at 15….but I do….love is whatever I feel when I'm with you and---" 

Before he can finish, Bucky pulls him in for a soft, chaste kiss. Steve practically melts. This is is his first kiss, and its clumsy and sweet and everything he ever wanted.

When they break away, both boys smile like love sick puppies. Bucky smiles "I love you too, Stevie."

Steve smiles back "No more dates?"

"No more dates." Bucky agrees.

[nitewrighter]

Does Hanzo ever find out what Genji went through/what he was like during Blackwatch? If so, how does he react?

I think he does eventually, like... Genji lets him know that he was in a very difficult physical and emotional place with Blackwatch, and Hanzo’s able to pick up from Mercy that “Okay no, I don’t think you understand, it was really bad”--but she’s also fairly light on the details mostly for Genji’s sake like “Hey, I’m not going to tell you any more than Genji was comfortable with telling you.” And Zenyatta hangs back for the same reasons, and also he wasn’t there so he doesn’t want to distort the details from what Genji’s told him. So the one person Hanzo can actually get the full story from... is McCree.

Also this fic references the first meeting fic so yeah!

----

“Well?” Hanzo had one elbow resting on the bar. Music was faintly playing but it blended in with the humming murmur of the other patrons. Snowflakes were buffeting the glass of the windowpanes just outside and both of them had shrugged off their heavier coats. The bar itself had a homey, lived-in quality to it. Not dirty, but with a definite age to it that seemed to lend a further brightness to the bodies gliding through it and chatting. The icy Andean wind had heightened the redness of Hanzo’s nose and cheeks well before any alcohol had. It contrasted against the cold discernment of his dark brown eyes.

“I’m gonna answer your question with a question--” McCree started.

“Which isn’t an answer--”

McCree leaned back in his bar seat, folding his arms across himself. He almost looked sagely. “Are you asking this because you genuinely think it will help you get a gauge on your shit and move forward, or are you freaking out because things are going more okay than you think you deserve and feel a need to kick yourself square in the Rocky Mountain oysters?”

“Rocky Mountain--?”

“It’s this fried--I’m talking about--” McCree sighed and sipped his whiskey, “I’m saying you’re doing... you’re doing really well, Hanzo. You’re touching base with the team, reachin’ out, you seem to be sleeping and eating better, hell, you’re clutch on missions, but now you’re asking about this, and it worries me.”

“Why should it worry you?” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.

“Because--y’know... I care about you. You’re a part of this team and I care about you... in a..” McCree cleared his throat, “Team-y way. And... you were stuck in a dark lonely place and I ain’t itchin’ to give you the means to go back there. ”

“But you can understand that the fact that I don’t have the full story distresses me more, can you not?” said Hanzo, “As well as the fact that knowing the more the truth of it is obscured with me, the worse I can assume the situation was.”

McCree scratched at his beard, frowning. “Yeah... yeah I can understand it--but I can also understand Mercy and Zen not spillin’ the beans on Genji’s account.”

“Mm...” Hanzo glanced off and sipped his own drink.

McCree twisted his glass slowly, “Then again, sometimes I think Reyes brought me on the team to begin with because I have a pretty high success rate with the whole, ‘Beg forgiveness before asking permission’ rate.”

Ana called you a charmer, the words almost slipped out of Hanzo but he wasn’t sure how they would land, so he held them in. Instead, Hanzo only mildly gestured at the bartender to refill McCree’s glass.

“Don’t think you’re getting it just because you’re gettin’ me drunk. It ain’t exactly a pretty story,” said McCree.

“I’m prepared,” said Hanzo.

McCree studied him a few moments longer, one hand still wrapped around his glass and one corner of his mouth pulled up with indecision before he closed his eyes and exhaled. “All right,” he said, “If only to keep you from kicking your own ass over what you don’t know.”

“I want you to start at the beginning,” said Hanzo, his stare steady.

“Well t’be fair, Blackwatch was casin’ Hanamura for months, even before your old man passed--er---my condolences--”

Hanzo snorted a little. “It’s... fine,” he said a bit awkwardly. He was more disarmed than really upset at the idea that McCree may have been far better versed in the activities of the Shimada Clan than he had really anticipated.

“Gérard, that is, our UN Attaché, had this whole thing about ‘pulling everything out to the light,’---And the fella was good at it. Could sniff out paper trails and track down dirty money like no other. The initial plan was to get Genji on possession charges and drag the whole clan out behind him. Your old man’s passin’--again, condolences--threw the whole schedule off though. And then we received additional intel that the Shimada dragons might be more.... uh... what’s the word for ‘unusual’ but it’s like... more business-y unusual?”

Hanzo shrugged.

“Un... Im... Uhhh.... Anomalous! That’s the word! Might be more anomalous than we thought and ‘warranting further investigation’ or whatever,” McCree seemed to be easing into the story now, plucking up details from debriefings, “SEP and all its affiliates had been more or less shut down post-Crisis, but there were still worries about human experimentation... strange abilities, and the like. And the dragon stories had been floating around your family for decades, but only when things got destabilized did we consider they might be more than stories. Then we got word that the wheels had been set in motion that the clan would kill Genji before we could get our hands on him--Arrest mission became extraction mission, and extraction mission became rescue mission. The time frame was so sudden we had to bring the Doc along because we thought she would be our best chance at saving him--She wasn’t in Blackwatch, you understand. Wasn’t too keen on undermining the Japanese government either. But... it turns out bringing her along was the right choice.”

Hanzo seemed to be maintaining a veneer of calm, but there was an unmistakeable new undercurrent of tension in his movements and expression as he sipped his own drink.

“You know what he looked like when you left him,” said McCree, “Do you really want me to go into the details there?”

“Yes,” said Hanzo.

McCree huffed and took another gulp of whiskey. The burn of alcohol rasped the first few words of his next sentence. “So it was me, Reyes, the Doc, and a handful of Blackwatch extraction medics touching down in Hanamura that night. Apparently the Shimada clan’s forces were decentralized from the castle. We infiltrated the castle grounds. Found a handful of your security already dead. Took out one more... left his body with the others. Didn’t have time to run a full investigation, or lock anything down. Finding Genji was the top priority. And we found him. Three limbs gone. Puddle of his own blood. Looked midway between... someone had dropped him in a garbage disposal but at the same time... not right--just... gone. The limbs were gone. The wounds were too clean but still bleedin’ out.”

Hanzo’s knuckles curled in, white and shaking as he took a steadying breath. “Consumed,” Hanzo said quietly, “The dragon consumed them.”

“I can stop--” McCree started.

“Finish what you start, Cowboy,” Hanzo’s voice was steady.

McCree swallowed. “I’d seen some fucked up shit under Reyes, but this... yeah, it was new. I kind of froze up, not quite scared, but just trying to make sense of it. But then I snapped out of it as the Doc rushed to him first. I had a vantage point in case other castle security showed up. Reyes was at the opening to that big-ass balcony so he could flag down our evac. So uh, what you need to understand here is that we uh... we actually had very little solid intel as to what the Shimada dragons were capable of.”

“...but I had left the scene well before this,” said Hanzo, trying to puzzle out the timeline of his own fleeing the castle grounds.

“Yeah it... wasn’t your dragon we saw,” said McCree, “See, the Doc, she had to do this... staff... defibrillation thing? I didn’t get a good look at it but Genji, he uh...started thrashin’ and this light sprang out of him. Bright green. Never seen anything like it. He was screaming. Next thing I know he’s grabbing Mercy’s neck.”

Hanzo flinched with some alertness. “What?”

“I mean--first instinct, I’m saying to Reyes, ‘Boss, I got a shot’--like, I know the mission was asset acquisition, but light show or not I wasn’t about to let him kill Angela, but then she hollers out ‘Don’t shoot him!’ And I’m stuck there looking to Reyes like, ‘You’re gonna override that, right?’ And... and Reyes was so calm... I--I could see him doing the math. Breaking people down to resources... breaking their deaths down to trade-offs...”

“You... thought you had to shoot Genji--” Hanzo’s brow was crinkling.

“If Reyes gave me the word,” McCree shrugged, then itched at the brim of his hat, “I never thought someone would hesitate on saving the doc like he was doing right there, though. But.... then she said something to Genji. Never asked what it was, but it seemed to calm him down before he passed out.”

“And you’re saying he grabbed her neck when they first met,” Hanzo’s eyes were narrowed, “But they’re...”

“Well, he was only half-conscious and in this full-on survival mode and she had just... jammed a huge amount of biotic-whatever into his chest. He didn’t know if she was helping or trying to... y’know it was like those times you nearly punched me in the face when I was trying to wake you up from those night terrors.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Hanzo.

“Psh. If I had a nickel for every time someone took a swing at me out of some kind of traumatic reflex...” he smiled to try and make this seem more lighthearted than it actually was, but Hanzo seemed to still be processing everything, so McCree cleared his throat. “Word of advice, though, don’t make any ‘I guess you’re into that’ jokes with the doc,” he said with a nervous laugh, “No it uh... it took them both a while. I mean, there was this thing there, definitely, but yeah, they were both neck-deep in a whole bunch of shit for a while before they really acknowledged anything.”

“Did Genji take a swing at you?” asked Hanzo.

“Not outside of a Blackwatch sparring ring,” said McCree, “But Jesus, he was scary on the training floor. Still is, sometimes.” McCree paused for a few seconds. “He was obsessed with killing you, y’know. Taking down the whole clan and killing you. Every mission where he got a sniff of you, every mission he thought you might be there and you weren’t, he’d come back snarling.” 

Hanzo blinked a few times and glanced down. He knew it made sense, given the idea of justice their family had ingrained in them, but there was still an odd sting to the idea. But I’m his brother, he thought, but then he thought, But that didn’t stop me. 

McCree seemed to take Hanzo’s silence as permission to go on. “ I’d try to distract him... try to get his head out of his ass sometimes, but a lot of the time... you see any living thing in a state like that, all you can do is give it space. Genji did give us a decent amount of intel on the Shimada clan’s bigger operations... but when it came to actually getting in there... he was always the first one on the ground. As you can imagine, it was personal for him. There were a handful of bullshit ‘stakeouts’ in Japan where Genji would ditch me... I knew Reyes wasn’t telling me the whole story, then again, it wasn’t my job to know the whole story.” McCree sipped his drink. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t know what he was doing, though.”

“...killing heads of the clan,” Hanzo said quietly.

“Can’t exactly confirm or deny that but... yeah,” said McCree. A prickle of alarm seemed to go through him. “Look, I don’t want to kick off any more brother-killing fuckery--”

“You’re not, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice was subdued, “I was the right hand of the clan... and the destruction wrought by Genji was, if anything, a product of my own actions.”

“Also his actions--He was fucking nightmare--I mean I liked him, but he was a fucking nightmare, sometimes. Lashed out--like... you didn’t really think of him as giving a shit about you with all that seething over the Shimada clan--- but then he’d know how to say something that hurts, and he knows exactly how it hurts, and you wouldn’t know if he learned how to hurt that bad from your family or just because he was hurtin’ that bad and---” McCree seemed to catch the alarmed look in Hanzo’s eyes, then took a steadying breath before sipping his drink again, “Look... this stuff... it’s all in the past. And he is a lot better now. And he is one of my best friends. Kind of wild how someone who hurt you that deeply can be a best friend like that, but... that’s kind of how life works. Kind of how this shit works when you don’t know if you’re coming back from that next mission. We’re all fucked up here. It’s about learning to take the fucked up parts of yourself and trying to make it into something that helps the people that mean something to you. ”

“The people that mean something to me...” Hanzo repeated quietly.  He remembered McCree’s words from his second night on the watchpoint. ‘We’re all just background noise to you. You’re just here so you can stop kicking your own ass after Genji.’ Then he remembered Genji’s words. ‘Well... you’ve been traveling the world for a decade... has there... been anyone? Anyone special? Anyone you loved?’

“...I feel like I’ve let that part of me atrophy,” Hanzo said quietly. Answering Genji’s question, not McCree’s words.

“Atrophy?” McCree repeated.

“When you don’t use a muscle for a long time and... it ceases to be able to functi--”

“I know what ‘Atrophy’ means--” McCree wasn’t making eye contact, “You let... caring about other people... atrophy,” he parsed, trying to trace out Hanzo’s thought process.

“Mm,” Hanzo took a sip of his own drink, “So while I was wandering in grief, Genji was consumed by pain and rage.”

“Which... he’s told you,” said McCree. 

“Well, yes, but he didn’t go into details,” said Hanzo, “I know, this might be difficult or painful to talk about, but I really do appreciate getting a more complete picture of what happened to him after my actions.” 

McCree tilted his own glass back and forth on the bar counter, letting the whiskey rock around the interior.“I know, but...don’t heap all this on yourself. Reyes always said he wanted the cockroach motherfuckers, and he was more than happy to let Genji snap and swear and lash out and burn the house down because that suited Blackwatch’s agenda better than, I dunno, therapy? Only when we got benched after the Venice incident did he yank in Genji’s leash, because hey, it turned out having a PTSD cyborg tearin’ around the base cussin’ people out wasn’t a good look for Blackwatch.” 

Hanzo huffed a little. There was an odd comfort in that. But then he paused, running over the course of McCree’s words in his mind. “...you keep bringing up Reyes,” Hanzo said, fixing his eyes on McCree.

“Sorry--I--I know this should be about Genji,” said McCree.

“No it... it gives some perspective,” said Hanzo, “You trusted Reyes, didn’t you?”

McCree’s mouth tightened for a few seconds before he drew in a short breath through his nostrils. “Yeah... yeah, I did. He just... I mean I’d keep telling myself I was my own person, that I did things with my own style, but so did he. So like... whether it’s ‘your own style’ from fuckin’ Santa Fe or Los Angeles... is there really that much of a difference? If you still picture yourself in their boots, give or take a decade or so?”

“Hm,” Hanzo was thoughtful at this, “I imagined myself in my father’s position so long that when everything came apart and I found myself wandering the world, dodging the clan’s assassins I felt... like a stranger.” 

“Kind of liked being a stranger,” said McCree with slight shrug, “Stranger’s from nowhere. Got nothing to prove.... guess it probably hits different if you got a whole... magical crime lord prince destiny thing, huh?”

“The dragon is not magical,” said Hanzo flatly, but a smile was tugging at his lips. 

“Debatable,” said McCree, “First of all: It’s a dragon.”

Hanzo snorted and a quiet pause passed between them. Not uncomfortable, but definitely tired, letting McCree’s words and all the pain and memory that came with them drift and dissipate into the warm air of the bar.

“...I could tell you more if you want,” said McCree, after a few beats. “I do have funnier stories... wasn’t all... ‘he was fucked up.’ And--Genji did seem to be getting better-ish towards the end there, once they put him on Tracer’s strike team... but by then Overwatch itself was coming apart.” He snorted. “I guess that’s kind of a running theme with this stuff.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Hanzo with a slight chuckle. He paused. “Tracer’s strike team?”

“Well, she and Winston probably got more stories there than I do,” said McCree, “And maybe the doc, if it’s in good faith.” He sipped his drink. “You’re welcome to run off to try and ask them about it.”

“I think... this is enough for now,” said Hanzo. After a few beats he said, “You’re not... all background noise to me.”

“What?” said McCree.

“That... you said that on the second night,” said Hanzo, “It’s... it’s not that I don’t value life, or other people--I’m just... it’s been a very long time since I’ve worked with other people, since I’ve talked to other people on a regular basis like this, since I’ve stayed in one place this long, and...”  he trailed off, then took a sip of his own drink with some resolve, “I’m afraid,” he said, letting those words sit in the air for a few seconds, “I’m afraid of lending my abilities to another organization that’s used people to hurt other people and then tossed them aside. When your only connection to other people for most of your life was this twisted blood loyalty...” Hanzo trailed off.

“I’m scared of makin’ the same mistakes too, for what it’s worth,” said McCree, “I don’t think fear like that ever goes away.”

“Redemption’s a bitch?” said Hanzo with a slight smile.

McCree broke into chuckles. “You should swear more often. I feel like that’ll help.”

“You’ve sworn plenty for the both of us, tonight,” said Hanzo crisply, sipping his own drink.

“Still, I’m gonna make it a mission to get a ‘fuck’ out of you,” said McCree and Hanzo choked and sputtered. “I didn’t mean it like that! You know what I mean!” McCree was laughing as Hanzo’s attention was split between choking and laughing and desperately looking around for a napkin after spitting his drink. The bartender swooped by with a napkin and the laughs boiled down into chuckles as Hanzo cleaned up a bit. There was another pause then, that same settling of understanding.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said after a few beats.

“You already thanked me--don’t know what’s worth thanking about saying ‘hey your brother was fucked up and so were we.’”

“Honesty. I appreciate honesty.”

McCree smiled and then shrugged.“Hey--y’know, for all the shit I give you,” McCree started and trailed off, “What I said that night about... all of us being background noise... I know that.. that wasn’t really fair. You really didn’t know any of us and, y’know, as far as the general public is concerned, we’re a whole bunch of mercenary weirdoes doing vigilante shit.” 

“And Genji was the only person here I knew, and was really...” Hanzo sighed, “I suppose, I fixed him in my mind to be my last chance at humanity--and made myself out to be a monster to all of you in pursuing that.”

“Well... you’re doing better, I can tell you that much. And... y’know folks are warming up to you.”

“Except Angela,” said Hanzo, with a weary smile. 

“She needs time on that... I wouldn’t try to force it,” said McCree, “Baby steps and all that.” 

Hanzo huffed a little.

“Hey,” McCree lifted his glass, “To baby steps and runnin’ the hell away from all our old role models.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo clinked his glass against Genji’s. Both sipped their drinks and another pause passed over them. Hanzo felt McCree’s eyes on him and looked over at him.l

“Hey just so we’re clear,” McCree’s chin was in his hand, “I didn’t accidentally kick off some huge new bloody vengeance thing by telling you all this, right?”

“You did not,” said Hanzo with a wry smile.

“Oh thank god.” 

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Hello love! Could I request Who by Lauv ft. BTS, slow burn love and Skinny Sisk? Nobody ever writes about him. He’s so underrated!💓

Hello angel! Thank you for the request!! 🤗This was so fun, Skinny really is so underrated! (P.S. I'm slowly making my way through the rest of the requests. THANK YOU to everyone who sent them in, it's been so fun writing these.)

Skinny downed the rest of his beer, which was mainly froth now. He was supposed to meet Dalia half an hour ago but she had only just arrived and seemed in no rush to find him. They hadn’t even made eye contact yet, but he had spotted her. Like always, she was the most striking woman in the room, impossible not to notice. When she first entered she had been immediately rewarded with greetings from acquaintances, mostly men. Skinny wasn’t really the jealous type; he was only jealous of her time. Dalia didn’t seem to have a lot of it. The time she did have was often split between many people and Skinny had to wait his turn. That night, he noticed gloomily, she had brought a golden haired friend dressed in yellow. She was beautiful, but Skinny only saw her as one more person he had to share Dalia with.

He and Dalia had been dating - well kind of - for months now. After a string of successful dates Skinny had asked Dalia if she would like to go steady with him. She explained she wasn’t ready, so Skinny was patient. After a few more weeks he asked again, but Dalia had another excuse. She continued to flirt with him and Skinny continued to wait anchored in the hope that one day she would accept him as hers. But lately he was beginning to feel like a chump.

Finally, Dalia made her way over to him, the girl in the yellow dress trailing behind her.

“Hi Wayne,” Dalia gave him a kiss on the cheek. He leaned in to kiss her on the other cheek but she was already moving out of the way. He let his hand linger around her waist as she introduced him the stranger.

“This is Natasha, she’s an old friend from home,” Dalia smiled toothily, “I brought her to work for you boys.”

“Yes,” Natasha’s smile was strained, “Dalia was kind enough to recommend me for a job.” It was clear that they had recited this script more than a few times.

“Nice to meet you,” Skinny shook Natasha’s hand. He was keenly aware of Dalia’s eyes on him and he wanted to make a good impression. “So you’re from Maryland too?”

Natasha nodded, “never lived anywhere else, until now that is.”

“And what made you want to work here?” Skinny asked politely. He felt Dalia on his right turn to respond to another man’s catcall. She giggled and it took all of Skinny’s concentration to focus on what Natasha was saying.

Suddenly, Dalia touch his arm, interrupting the conversation, “I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere you two,” she winked at them then disappeared into the crowd.

Skinny stared helplessly at Natasha for a moment before regaining himself. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure,” Natasha smiled wearily at him. They approached the bar and continued talking.

“So you're one of Dalia’s boyfriends?”

Skinny nearly spilled the drinks in surprise, “um not quite. We’re dating but…”

“but can’t get her pinned down?” Natasha accepted a glass from him.

“We’re taking things slow.”

Natasha nodded but didn’t say anything more on the subject. Much to Skinny’s disappointment he didn’t see much of Dalia for the rest of the night. She was busy talking and flirting with other groups of the bar’s patrons. Every time Skinny began to feel down about it he reminded himself that Natasha had it worse. Her friend had all but abandoned her; at least Skinny knew other people in the bar. Natasha was new to the city and had no one. Skinny made a point of sticking with her, which turns out was far from a burden. Natasha was fun to hang out with. She was kind and had this quiet humor about her that Skinny found quite entertaining. He wasn’t the only one to notice either.

“Who was that dame you were chattin’ up Skinny? Don’t think I’ve seen her around,” Joe Liebgott asked as they walked home together.

Skinny dug his hands deep into his pockets, trying to get his mind off of Dalia. “That was Natasha, Dalia’s friend from home. She just moved here.”

Joe raised a curious eyebrow, “she got a fella?”

Skinny shrugged, “dunno.”

He soon found out that Natasha was in fact single but not looking. On another night out Dalia had once again abandoned them. Skinny, the dutiful wannabe boyfriend, stuck by her friend. As Skinny’s friends were collecting refills, he and Natasha enjoyed the last of their drinks. That’s when a drunken soldier came up to them. Natasha grabbed Skinny’s arm when the soldier began hitting on her.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that,” she responded when he invited her to do some explicit things in the back alley.

The soldier looked at them suspiciously, “he’s your boyfriend?” he gestured sloppily at Skinny.

Skinny was lost for words but he nodded his head when Natasha looked up at him with a pleading look. The defeated soldier scoffed but stumbled off to find a new victim for his harassment.

“Thanks,” Natasha said, but there was little gratitude in her voice.

“Does that happen often?” Skinny asked with concern.

“All the time,” Natasha smiled dryly at him, “not to brag.”

“Do you actually have a boyfriend?” Skinny asked.

Natasha snorted, “no, but are you surprised? When those are my options?” she gestured at the retreating soldier. Skinny took the opportunity to really look at her. They had spent all this time together but he had always been so distracted by the distant shadow of Dalia. The faintest freckles were endearingly sprinkled across Natasha’s nose, and her hair shone bright even in the dim lighting of the bar. Any guy would be lucky to have her, Skinny thought, no wonder she got hit on so often.

Skinny and Natasha found themselves in each other’s company many times as he continued to pine after Dalia. At points, he wondered if he actually knew Natasha better than he knew Dalia. But those thoughts quickly dissipated as soon as he lay eyes on Dalia again. Sure, Natasha was easy to be around; Skinny felt like himself when he was with her. But Dalia was electric. She was beautiful, and charming, and he was addicted. He was willing to do anything just for a few moments of her attention.

One night Skinny settled into a chair beside Natasha, his eyes on Dalia.

“You know you don’t have to sit with me,” Natasha said. Her feet were propped up on a stool and her dress skirts hung messily, hiked up her legs. Skinny shrugged in response.

“Go have fun with your friends! Or go talk to Dalia!” Natasha urged him.

Skinny looked over to where Dalia was laughing with a co-ed group, “she’s busy, I’ll talk to her later.”

Natasha smiled pitifully at him.

“What?” he asked.


“You’re a sweet guy, Wayne,-"

“You know you don’t gotta call me that,” Skinny said, “really only Dalia does. Everyone else calls me Skinny or Sisk.”

Natasha nodded, “well maybe it’s not my place, but if it were me, I don’t know if I’d stick around for Dalia.”

“What do you mean?” Skinny asked innocently, though he had idea of what was coming. He had heard if from his buddies before: whipped.

“Dalia’s an old friend, I think she’s lovely, but she’s always been like this,” Natasha said. “How long have you guys been dating? How long have you been waiting around for her?”

Skinny didn’t respond but he turned to look directly at her. Natasha’s eyes were like pools of melted chocolate and Skinny felt the oddest sensation looking into them. “Clearly she’s not giving you the attention you want,” Natasha continued, “and you deserve someone who gives you what you want and need.” Skinny looked away, those round brown eyes were making his stomach flip in the most peculiar way.

He shrugged, “yeah, maybe.”

“Anyways,” Natasha sipped her drink, “that’s my two cents. Do what you want with it.”

Skinny tried to ignore Natasha’s words but they gnawed at him every time Dalia rebuked him. Slowly, his thoughts of Dalia began to be replaced by images of Natasha; of her laughing, playing darts, and those big, warm eyes.

One weekend Skinny and his friends met up with Dalia and Natasha a dance in the local city hall.


“You gonna ask her to dance or what?” Joe Liebgott pointed to where Natasha was sitting on a bench on the edge of the dance floor. Dalia hadn’t left the dance floor since she got there. It seemed nearly impossible to get on her dance card.

“You’re not seriously waiting around for a dance with Dalia are you?” Joe asked him.

“I don’t know who else to dance with!” Skinny said.

“Natasha,” Joe gestured, “obviously!” Skinny hesitated. “Skinny, Dalia is a khaki wacky, it’s about time you get over her. There’s a perfectly good dame over there who you’re clearly into!”

Skinny stared at his friend in confusion, “into? Who? Natasha?”


“Yes.”

“I’m not into Natasha.”

“Are you kidding me? You two are inseparable,” Joe said.

“We’re friends,” Skinny shrugged.

Joe rolled his eyes, “sure, well, go ask your friend to dance. She looks lonely over there.” Joe disappeared into the crowd, leaving Skinny to his own devices.

Skinny finally asked Natasha to dance but of course, with his luck, as soon as they were on the floor a slow song for lovers came on. He wasn’t going to be rude and ask her to wait for the next song so he pulled Natasha close and they began to dance. The lights dimmed as the music slowed. The scent of rose wafted up from Natasha’s hair and Skinny couldn’t help but think how perfectly she fit in his arms. He didn’t think of Dalia once, that is until the song came to an end. Natasha reached up and pressed her lips against his. For a moment, Skinny leaned into the kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, her breath sweet. Then a vision of Dalia came into his mind. Skinny broke the kiss and was met by Natasha’s questioning brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked.

“But we’re, we-,” Skinny stumbled, “we’re friends?”

Natasha stepped out of his embrace, her face flushed pink. She turned and hurried off the dance floor. Skinny followed after her, “Natasha, wait!” he called. But she didn’t slow down until she reached a corner of the hall.

“What?” she hissed. Her arms were crossed and her eyes darted around the dance hall to see who may be eavesdropping.

“That kiss,” he gestured at the dance floor, “I just- you kissed me.”

“Yeah, and?” she demanded in a hushed voice.

“Well, we’re friends,” he repeated dumbly.

“No, we’re not friends,” she said coldly, but there was hurt in her eyes. “You’re just an idiot in love with my friend, and I was a fool to think you’d ever get over her.”

Skinny looked as if he had been smacked. His mouth hung open in shock as he desperately searched for the words to respond.

“See you around, Skinny.” The disappointment was clear in her voice. And then the girl in the yellow dress was was gone.

Skinny wandered back to where Joe and their other friends were standing around chatting.

“What wrong Skinny?” Floyd Talbert asked.

“I fucked up,” Skinny said. Mentally he was kicking himself. Why had he reacted so stupidly? He had enjoyed that kiss!

Joe looked at him with a knowing look. “What happened?” Floyd asked.

“I just- I didn’t realize what was right in front of me until it was too late.

Joe nodded sagely. Floyd looked between Skinny and Joe in confusion, “what was right in front of you?”

“You know what you gotta do right?” Joe said, ignoring Floyd.

“What?” Floyd asked.

Skinny swallowed and looked at the floor, “it’s too late, I embarrassed her. She’ll never forgive me.”

“All ya gotta do is say you're sorry!” Joe said, “and mean it!”

“I don’t know Joe,” Skinny said hesitantly.

“Is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?” Floyd asked flatly.

“The longer you wait, the worse it's gonna get,” Joe insisted.

Skinny took a deep breath considering his friend's words. He exhaled, and after a pause said, “okay, okay,” he felt the confidence growing inside of him, “okay, I’ll see you fellas later.” He dashed off out the door hoping that Natasha was still nearby.

“We won’t wait up!” Joe called jokingly after him, but Skinny hardly heard him. He was off to win over the girl he wanted and the girl he needed.

[jinterlude]

Knock

→ Pairing: Kim Myungjun x Reader (female OC) [feat. Kim Seokjin and Park Jinwoo] → Genre(s): Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, and & Slight-Angst → AUs/Tropes: Non-Idolverse, Fashionista!Reader, Fashion Editor!Reader, Accountant!Myungjun, Strangers to Lovers trope → Word Count: 5.6K → Warning(s) & Rating: alcohol, alcohol consumption, heartbreak, swearing, & shameless flirting from MJ | PG-15 → Summary: In what seemed like a normal meetup with a friend ended up changing your life forever... → A/N: The majority of this story is set in the past; hence, the past tense, but near the end, it does switch to present tense as the two leading characters finish reminiscing about their first meeting! I apologize in advance if it’s a bit confusing and/or hard to read! I will use some sort of line break to separate the past from the present to make it, hopefully, a tad easier!  ☄ This one-shot is dedicated to an incredibly good friend of mine, Beanie @jinned​, who is the sole reason why I even got into Astro and officially place MJ on my list of ULTS. He may or may not even be ult of ults. We will see! 

“In the end, you’ll thank me as our marriage would’ve been a mistake...You know it. And I know it…” 

That phrase knocked the wind out of you as you remained speechless ‒ practically mute ‒ while the loud and bustling noise of the fine dining restaurant continued in the background. You opened your mouth, desperate to form a coherent sentence. Shit. Even an audible word would suffice, but you honestly couldn’t.

The person you firmly believed, with all your heart, that he was the one for you, sat right across the table and declared that the wedding was off—terminated. 

The wedding was scheduled to happen in just two months. Two...fucking...months…

“___,” Your fiancé began, breaking you away from your thoughts, “I honestly can’t express how deeply sorry I am for doing this to you, but it was the only way I can preserve our twenty-something friendship.”

“Friendship?” You scoffed, finally finding your voice. “You broke our year-long engagement so that you can PRESERVE OUR FRIENDSHIP?! Are you kidding me, Kim Seokjin?!” You practically boomed, alarming the patrons around you, but you didn’t care. 

Seokjin tried to calm you but ultimately fails. Your emotions ran rampant throughout your body that nothing and no one could relax you. Well, Seokjin used to be able to, but since he’s the source of your fury, it’s pointless. 

Forcing an airy chuckle, you reached over to your wine glass, drinking it all in seconds. The cool liquid hits the back of your throat but soon leaves behind this warm sensation. You felt that warmth settles within your cheeks, creating this pinkish hue, as you flag down a passing waiter and swiftly order another glass of your favorite wine. Within minutes, your second glass of wine appeared right in front of you. At first, you’re tempted to down it as you’ve done with the first glass, but then you opted against it. The last thing you needed to be was a drunken, heartbroken woman in a luxurious restaurant. At the same time, your ex-fiancé remained calm and collected. Then, the surrounding people - both the workers and customers ‒ would sympathize with him and utter phrases like, “Damn. He dodged a bullet. Look at the way she’s behaving, especially after he explained that he only wants to preserve their friendship.” 

“God damn it…” You whispered, taking a long, deep breath, as you realize that Seokjin is right. Your marriage would be a mistake, especially if you’ve fallen out of love with him. 

“___?” Seokjin questioned, noting this trance-like expression written all over your precious face. 

“Why do you have to be right? Even up until the end of our relationship, you just have to be right…” You trailed on as a small, almost nostalgic-like smile slowly dances across your face. 

Seokjin chuckled softly, “Well, someone has to be.” 

“Yeah…” You nodded, maintaining that tiny grin as your eyes trail down to your ring finger. Slowly, you slid off the engagement ring, freeing yourself of this heavy burden that you’ve never known you had until tonight. Then, with your right hand, you placed it gently in front of Seokjin, saying one last farewell to him. You thanked him for being your first of every romantic milestone you’ve experienced.

As you stood up, placing a few twenty-dollar bills on the table, you said softly, 

“I hope you find someone that will make you unconditionally happy.”

“I hope the same for you, ___. I truly do hope you find your soulmate.” 

You uttered a quick thanks before walking from the table and towards a new chapter in your life. 

An intriguing yet uncertain chapter where you explored the idea of being single again after so many years. 

It should be a fun adventure, right? 

Well, it was in the beginning. Yet like with everything else in life, it was only natural you’d experience some ‒ let’s just say ‒ writer’s block. 

The first few pages contained incredible details of the first year since your breakup from Seokjin. You found yourself going back to school and majoring in fashion while finding the time to minor in journalism. During that good old university life, you met a person who you now considered a dear, close friend of yours. 

Eun Byeol. Now that was a true definition of a “ride or die” friend. To this day, you still remember how you essentially handcuffed your roommate-turned-best friend to the closet door handle, preventing her from driving over to your ex-fiancé’s place and destroying his most prized possession. Yep. You guessed it—his 1960s candy red Jaguar E-Type car. Stereotypical of a fella valuing his vintage ride above anything else, but shit. Even you found yourself admiring that beautiful car once in a while. 

But that was ancient history. Old news—just like your editorial on the most fashion show in Milan would be if you didn’t stop reminiscing about your first love and haul your ass. 

Lightly shaking your head, forcing yourself back into reality, you cleared your throat a few times, sniffing the Tropical fruit scents that lingered around your office. 

“I could really go for a mango shaved ice…” You muttered, blankly staring at your document as little to no inspiration enters your mind. You drummed your fingers against the keys, desperately hoping that something - anything - would jump right out of your brilliant mind and land directly on the page; thus, resulting in a finished article to hand over to the boss lady. 

Yet here you sat for another couple of hours staring at the same paragraph. You were pretty sure that you edited that paragraph to the point that it wasn’t even a paragraph. You somehow managed to dwindle it down to a three-sentence summary of Emma Aruda, a rising top model, and how stunning she looked walking the runway. Great. Now your column was too short, thanks to your sudden need to edit before it was even completed. 

“Come on, inspiration…” You groaned, slouching in your office chair as you swiveled back and forth, looking at the blanket of white that you called a ceiling. 

“You know...the longer you keep your head positioned like that, the higher the chance of your brain cells leaving will be…” quipped a familiar voice, causing you to swivel towards your door. 

Soon, a small grin formed on your face as you lightly scoffed at that person’s words. 

“Well, hello to you too, Eun Byeol.” You greeted, sitting up straight but still resting your elbows on the arms of your chair.

Eun Byeol flashed a warm smile ‒ so warm and inviting that it could even get the coldest, most standoffish person to greet her back ‒ as she strode towards your desk and leaned against the edge. 

“Dumb question, but what’s with frustration radiating off of you?” 

“Oh, my brain stupidly remembered my relationship with Seokjin while I was in the middle of writing this article, and now I’m stuck…”

You heard Eun Byeol winced, grimacing as you went into details of the memories that resurfaced in your mind. As each word escaped your sweet lips, the more this unbearable stab pressed against the chest. To be more precise, this cruciating pain that invaded your heart. 

“Damn, ___. It’s been like, what? Five years since he called off the engagement? I thought you were officially over that arrogant ass.”  asked Eun Byeol, clearly fed up with your ex, as evidence in her tone of voice. You couldn’t help but shrink in your chair as each of your drear friend’s words grazed your soft skin. 

Taking a long, deep breath before exhaling slowly, you tilted your head towards your friend, revealing a small and remorseful smile. You felt guilty mentioning him towards, fully aware of how she had rather colorful opinions of him. 

“I am over him, but can you blame me for remembering the good old days I experienced with him?” 

Now, it was your friend’s turn to feel a tad guilty for allowing and directing her fury towards you. Eun Byeol knew you were over him, but you fell victim to the old saying, “One never truly forgets their first love,” and that was Seokjin. He was your first love, and he might be even your last—unless her boyfriend’s longtime friend was still single. 

Then, a lightbulb lit up in her devious mind as this scheming smirk danced across her face, instantly alerting you. That smirk usually led to some rather “exciting” shenanigans, and most often than not, you went home questioning your life choices and wondering how on Earth did your friendship with Eun Byeol last this long. 

As you opened your mouth, ready to warn your friend, she beat you the punch. 

“What are you doing tonight?” 

“Uh, besides pulling an all-nighter to finish this article? Nothing. Why?” You asked with a wary expression. Your eyes slightly narrowed while your brows became knitted together. 

“Wrong! You’re coming out with me for drinks at this bar Jinwoo and I usually frequent whenever our schedules allow it.” Eun Byeol announced, overly excited, further adding to your suspicions. 

You swiftly glanced at your editorial piece before flickering your gaze back to your friend. You sucked in some air through your clenched teeth. Your mind desperately tried to find any, if at all, hidden motives behind Eun Byeol’s random invitation. Unfortunately, you came up with nothing. No secret plans that laid underneath the seemingly harmless invite that your brain could zero in on. 

“It’s just the two of us, right?” You asked, feeling apprehensive towards Eun Byeol’s invite. 

Eun Byeol simply nodded, smiling brightly as she promised you that it would be just the two of you, and that was all. 

After mulling it over for a good minute or two, you whined loudly before agreeing to go out with her. 

“But I’m stopping after two Whiskey Sours! I still have a deadline to meet, unlike someone who’s currently in my office and clearly being a bad influence.” 

Eun Byeol snorted in response, “Please. If I was such a bad influence, would I suggest that we steal Seokjin’s car and take it on a joy ride?”

“Actually, you did. Like, several times.” 

“Shut up and write your damn column.” Teased Eun Byeol before exiting your office. As she created enough distance between her and your office, she fished out her phone from the pocket of her black slacks and sent a quick text message to her boyfriend. A message that read,

“Hey, can you convince MJ to come to our favorite bar? I’d think he’d be perfect for ___!” 

Not even a minute after pressing send, Eun Byeol received a response that said, 

“I’ll do my best, but he’s been moping lately since his last date ghosted him without any warning. Plus, you can’t forget how soul-sucking our line of work is, babe.”

Eun Byeol giggled softly as she typed out, 

“Even more reason to add a certain fashionista to his dull life. She’ll liven it up with her colorful and bright personality,” 

She then scrolled through her list of emojis, picking the perfect one before sending it. After waiting for what seemed like ten minutes, her boyfriend didn’t reply, meaning that he was on board and hopefully planting the seed at that moment. 

“Oh, please let them hit it off…” thought Eun Byeol as she journeyed back to her office, dying to know if her boyfriend executed his mission perfectly. 

Yet like with any task, there were bound to be tiny hiccups as Jinwoo exhausted all his go-to methods to convince his close friend, Kim Myungjun. While Eun Byeol and ___ worked at one of the top fashion empires, he and Myungjun worked a regular office job, crunching numbers for their CEO. 

Again, a soul-crushing type of profession, and it didn’t help that their office space was oddly white. Everywhere Jinwoo turned, it was just pure white. Apparently, someone thought it’d be a brilliant idea to add fluorescent lighting into the mi; the entire building gave off this abnormally cleanliness vibe. 

Every day that Jinwoo walked into the office, he seriously felt that he entered that agency from the hit movie Men in Black, especially in his black and white two-piece suit that his company required the workers to wear.  What was next? He’d get a cool gadget that wiped civilians’ memories? 

“Oh, man. That’d be amazing…” He mumbled, unaware of someone standing behind him. 

“What’d be amazing, JinJin?” asked an all too familiar voice belonging to a person that Jinwoo actually had to see. 

The eager man turned his chair around, now face-to-face with his close friend and coworker—Myungjun. 

Quickly clearing his throat, Jinwoo plastered on the warmest smile his face could handle and happily greeted his friend. 

Myungjun, at first, felt weirded out by his friend’s sudden surge in energy but soon brushed it off. He then matched Jinwoo’s energy, capturing the attention of a few bystanders. 

“So back to my question, what would be amazing?” questioned Myungjun, ignoring the strange glances he and Jinwoo earned from their coworkers. 

“Um…” Jinwoo began, nervously chuckling, “It would be amazing if you and I go out for drinks tonight, especially after how shitty this week has been.” 

“I don’t know, man, like you said, it’s been a shitty week, and I don’t think I’m up for going out and having a fun time with you and the rest of our buddies.” 

“Come on, MJ, you’re still not moping about what’s her face? She’s not worth your time, especially when you weren’t worth hers.” Jinwoo retorted, hoping that his tough-love approach would entice him to come out and meet his girlfriend’s friend. Sadly, it didn’t. If anything, his words made Myungjun even more upset as this solemn expression washed over his once joyous face. Now, his friend looked as if someone took his heart right out of his chest and crushed it with their bare hands. 

“Alright...new approach…” Jinwoo switched tactics, going for the more “brotherly advice” approach, “Look, I was out of line, and for that, I’m sorry MJ. But I honestly hate seeing you upset over her, so please come out with me tonight. Tomorrow, you can sit at home alone and mope on the couch. Deal?” 

Myungjun made a face, weighing his options but ultimately leaning towards going out. After all, Jinwoo was right. His loneliness and favorite couch would be there tomorrow, so where was the harm in downing a few shots of Vodka to numb the hurt?

“Fine, deal. What’s this place called?” 

“Ahora.” 

A quizzical expression slowly washed over Myungjun’s face as he couldn’t help but question the intriguing choice of that bar name. 

While the uncertainty still filled his entire body, something deep within told him that something ‒ or maybe someone ‒ would change his life after tonight. 

Mustering his signature thousand-watt smile; his eyes practically disappeared as he did, Myungjun gave his friend a thumb’s up and said, 

“Alright. See you tonight! Maybe you and I can finally see who can drink the most without acting goofy after the third drink!”

Jinwoo playfully shook his head, letting out a few light chuckles. 

“I don’t know, my dude. I think I got you beat the last time we had our little drinking competition.” He teased, masking his hidden motive behind inviting his buddy out. Secretly, he hoped that Myungjun would ask like his goofy self since, according to Eun Byeol, you had a thing for comedic guys. 

Now, the real question was, how would Myungjun successfully capture your heart? 

“So, what should I wear?” Jinwoo heard Myungjun ask, forcibly removing him from his frenzy thoughts. 

“Um…” Jinwoo paused, silently panicking since his girlfriend never told him what you were going to wear tonight or even your preferred style on men. “Do you still have that purple and black striped sweater? You know with that creamy-tan color as well? I think it might be cold.” He suggested though he was unsure of his own recommendation. Honestly, he began questioning his life choices when he said, “purple and black striped sweater.” 

A faint hum emitted from Myungjun’s lips while he mulled over his buddy’s fashion suggestion. Then, he simply shrugged, going along with Jinwoo’s choice. 

“Yeah, I think I have that sweater still. Wait.” The biggest grin danced across his handsome face, “I knew you loved that sweater on me!” He cheered, flinging his arms around Jinwoo’s neck and giving him the warmest hug known to man. 

“Let go! People are staring at us weirdly!!”

“Let them stare! I want the entire world to know how amazing of a friend you are to me!”

“Damn, you just had to make it even creepier. Didn’t you?” 

“You know me so well.”

Later that evening, while Myungjun knew what he’d wear on his night out with the fellas, you were the polar opposite. You rummaged through your walk-in closet, flinging every single clothing hanger you could get your hands on. You tossed aside the latest peacoats, dresses, wool sweaters, everything onto the floor because nothing matched the vision you had in your fashionista brain. While, yes, it was just going out for a few drinks with Eun Byeol, you still wanted to look reasonably decent just in case Mr. Right made an appearance. 

Silently scolding yourself while you tap the pads of your fingers against one another as you desperately try to capture the perfect attire you envisioned yourself. Minutes had gone by, and you still drew a blank. You even pressed your cold lips against your fingers, slightly enjoying the warmth that radiated from your hands. Then, it finally dawned on you as millions of light bulbs lit up in your pretty mind like a beautiful and well-organized lamp display at a furniture store. 

“I’m a dumbass.” You teased, softly chuckling as you pulled out this dark gray pin-striped black peacoat and gently draping it over your desk chair. Then, you flipped through your rack, your fingers grazing the fabric of your blouses, button-ups, and plain old t-shirts. Your eyes scanned each article of clothing until you found the perfect blouse that would compliment the jacket perfectly. You pulled out this satin white long-sleeved blouse with ruffles on the ends of both sleeves and the collar. 

With a pleased smile, you gently laid the blouse over the jacket before grabbing a nice pair of navy blue slacks. The very same pair of slacks that Eun Byeol has dubbed “the highlighter” because apparently it perfectly accentuated the best parts of your body—whatever that meant. 

Grabbing both the coat and blouse with your pants draped over your forearm, you made your way towards the restroom. Just as you’re about to disappear into the well-lit room, you commanded your Alexa to play your go-to “getting ready” song, “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat).” The second the opening beat dropped, you bobbed your head to the tune, even swaying your hips as you jammed out.

One by one, your lounge clothes dropped to the floor and soon replaced with your jaw-dropping outfit. You smoothed out any wrinkles that your eye instantly locked on before switching focus to your makeup. 

Now, this might not be an easy task compared to picking out your current outfit. Any look would pair well with your fashion statement. You could go for a “girl next door” look, but did you really want to portray an innocent person tonight, especially with drinks involved? Probably not. 

Suddenly, a short gasp exited your lips as you grabbed all the necessary components for your femme fatale look. Your outfit almost reminded you of the main heroine in a 1940s movie. 

“Okay, let’s see how red I can get my lips this time.” 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Myungjun wasn’t exactly having the time of his life.  He remained still as a statue, staring blankly at his closet. Did he genuinely want to go out tonight? Part of him firmly believed that he only agreed to drink his sorrows away and forget about this girl that ghosted him a few weeks back. That was always his problem—he had the tendency to develop an infatuation before the girl does. It was honestly quite pathetic. 

Just as he was a step away from backing out from the hangout, a high-tone pitch echoed throughout Myungjun’s condo. 

With a curious expression, Myungjun shuffled his feet towards his phone, taking it off the charger. His brows perked up as he saw that he received a text message from Jinwoo. 

“Huh. Maybe Jinwoo wants to back out.” He wishfully thought, unlocking his phone to read the message. It said, 

“Hey man, I’m going to be a few minutes late, so you can get a head start on our little drinking competition!” 

Nodding his head, Myungjun hit the message box. Just as he was about to type out his reply, a photo appeared. The image contained a person, who looked to be female, and to his dismay, her head was cropped out. 

“Okay?” He thought, typing out his reply and asking his friend why he received a picture of a woman with excellent taste in clothing. Then, for laughs, Myungjun added, “Is that what you’re wearing, JinJin? I didn’t peg you as the type to wear a frilly blouse.” 

Not even a minute later, the playful fellow received a response, 

“Fuck you, MJ! And to answer your serious question, if you see this girl, can you politely let her know that Eun Byeol is also running late. Apparently, that lady is a college friend of Byeolie, and they coincidentally also wanted to meet at the bar we’re going to. Cool? Thanks!” 

Slightly shaking his head, Myungjun replied with a thumb’s up emoji before locking his phone. 

“Well, I guess you can’t back out now,” He muttered, opening his closet doors and revealing a wide array of clothing, coming in every color known to man. “What did that old man suggest earlier? Oh! Purple, cream-tan, and black pull-over!” Then, a sudden pause filled the air, “That was oddly specific of him to suggest…” He realized, thinking back to their conversation at work. Yet he merely shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it except his friend perhaps wanted him to look good just in case he’d were to meet his Miss Right. 

“Alright, MJ. Pick up the pace. We don’t want the pretty lady waiting too long, do we?” 

Sadly, that happened, and to put it frankly, you were pissed off at Eun Byeol for making you awkwardly wait for what seemed like forever. Granted, it was only an hour that you waited for her, but that was beside the point. 

Nope. The long wait time was not the sole reason behind your agitation. Nuh-uh. It was the fact that your oh-so-dear-friend failed to mention that every couple known to man appeared at the bar tonight. Thus, resulted in you nervously sitting alone at the bar, running the tip of your finger against the rim of your whiskey sour. You then gulped down the last remaining sips before almost slamming it on the counter. With a sour expression, you held up one finger and politely asked for another glass. Just as you mumbled a quick thanks, you felt someone tap your shoulder. 

Instead of giving the “drunken” stranger, more than likely looking for a one-night stand, you wave the person away, citing that you were already waiting for someone. 

“I mean, from the looks of it, I don’t think your friend is coming.” pointed out the stranger, with an unusual high-pitch voice. Though, to give the person the benefit of the doubt, you were used to deep, manly voices. This unknown bystander’s voice was honestly a breath of fresh air. 

Reaching for your second glass of the evening, you swiveled in your seat, coming face-to-face with the stranger. But the moment your eyes landed on him, you felt your jaw drop slightly, forming a tiny “o.” Holy crap, this guy is incredibly gorgeous. 

Quickly snapping out of your gaze, you cleared your throat. 

“I’m sorry? I. Um. What do you mean my friend is not coming?” 

“Just that. I mean, originally, I was supposed to be here 45 minutes ago and give you a heads up that Eun Byeol was running late. Still, I lost track of time getting ready to meet my friend here. However…” he trailed on, looking around. He, too, noticed all the couples chatting it up everywhere and anywhere in the bar that evening. “I’m starting to think that we were set up on a blind date.” 

You softly giggled, “Yeah, I’m getting that hunch as well...I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” You replied, unknowingly disregarding the fact that Myungjun mentioned your best friend’s name. 

“Oh! I’m Kim Myungjun, but my friends call me MJ,” Then he playfully winked at you, flashing a bright smile, “I can’t forget pretty girls, like yourself, as well.” 

You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief, “Well, I’ll think about it, but thank you for that disclaimer. Also, you can call me ____.” 

“What? No playful yet flirtatious tactic like me?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. The night is still young, MJ.” 

Hearing his nickname slip past your innocent lips, Myungjun couldn’t help but raise a brow with an interested gleam in his eyes. One corner of his mouth curved upwards as he observed your body language. He silently hoped for your non-verbal cues would give him the “okay” to continue his flirting. When he didn’t see any signs of uncomfortableness radiating off you, he took that as the first and ‒ hopefully ‒ of many positive reactions he’d gained from you throughout the evening. 

Clearing his throat, the suddenly nervous young man glanced around the busy establishment, looking for a vacant booth for the two of you to occupy. Lucky must be on his side as his focused gaze immediately locked on an empty stall in the far right corner. With pursed lips, he swiftly analyzed the location and the atmosphere that surrounded it. Myungjun noted how dimly lit that corner was. With the added candles, that location had this romantic aura swarming it and those who sat in that spot. 

It was perfect for this sudden blind date. 

“So, would you like to sit over there?” asked Myungjun, pointing towards the only empty booth. 

You followed his finger and landed on the isolated corner that screamed passion. Instantly, your eyes widened as your heart rapidly drummed against your chest. Oh, you weren’t prepared for this, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel this unexplainable excitement and giddiness. A few emotions that you hadn’t felt in a long time—not since your relationship with Seokjin. Yet to be quite honest, you didn’t feel scared. In fact, you were ready to take that plunge into the deep romantic ocean. You weren’t worried about drowning or hitting a bunch of jagged rocks. You just wanted to take that leap of faith and, perhaps, maybe Myungjun would catch you. 

With a long, drawn-out breath, you steadied your racing heart before answering him, 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” 

In return, Myungjun greeted with his signature thousand-watt smile, resulting in this warm sensation creeping on your pale cheeks. 

“Positive reaction number 2.” He silently cheered as he abruptly held out his hand, hoping you’d take it. “After you, m’lady,” said Myungjun with a hint of playfulness. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, slightly shaking your head in the process.

“Why, thank you, my kind sir.” You played along, gently grasping his hand and curling your fingers around his. The second you did that, this unspeakable spark shot through both of your arms, surging through your entire body. What made that reaction spectacular was that he interlaced your fingers together as he softly smiled with a genuine warm expression written all over his handsome face. With that smile alone, all recent thoughts about Seokjin and any doubts caused by your former relationship evaporated into thin air. Now, it was just you and Myungjun. 

You took a mental note to thank Eun Byeol for setting up this blind date as you guided your bodies towards the booth. Naturally, you picked up the pace as you didn’t want anyone else to steal that perfect spot meant for the both of you. 

Little by little, you pushed through the sea of people, swiftly closing the gap between your bodies and the table. 

“Which side do you want?” You politely asked as you couldn’t help but notice a defeated couple look for somewhere else to sit. Huh. Perfect timing on your part. 

Myungjun softly tapped his chin with his free hand as this faint hum emitted from his lips. Then, a bold idea appeared in his mind. Depending on how you’d answer, he could either make incredible progress or back to square one with you. Well, it was time to find out. 

“I have a better idea. Why don’t I sit right next to you? You know so that you can hear me better, especially with how noisy it is right now.” 

A tiny squeal escaped your lips as your eyes went round. Your face flushed from Myungjun’s boldness. 

“Okay, ____. You need to form a string of coherent words.” You chastised yourself, feeling a tad foolish that you’re this nervous to the point that you can’t even form a simple sentence. “You can do it. All you need to say is, “Sure. You can sit next to me.” Is that so damn hard?” You mumbled to yourself—or so you thought. 

“Um. I don’t know, sweetheart. Is it tough to say that you want to sit next to me?”

“Uh...no?”

“Really? You don’t sound so sure of yourself.” 

“I mean, yes, we should sit right next to each other.” 

You nervously chuckled as you entered the booth, placing your drink on the edge of the table just before shuffling towards the middle of the table with Myungjun following after. You then kindly ask him if he could slide your almost finished Whiskey Sour to you, which he did but not without some playful quips towards you. He teased you for acting like a nervous wreck, blaming the fact that you probably had one too many drinks already. You argued back, stating that you only had two drinks and that it was all his fault for making you this worked up. 

Myungjun chuckled in response but soon, that boyish grin vanished from his face and was replaced with a scheming yet charming smirk. What was he planning? And as soon as you parted your sweet lips, Myungjun’s face was inches away from yours. One wrong you move and the two of you would lock lips right then and there. That’s how close you were to each other. 

“Oh? So, it’s my fault, then how are you feeling now?” He whispered. His warm breath fanned your cheeks as his gaze darted between your doe-like stare and your apple-red lips. “Am I making you extremely worked up—”

“Hold up! That’s not how our first date went, MJ.” You say, interrupting your boyfriend’s somewhat exaggerated story. You’re almost sure that he’s currently telling a rendition of what he wishes occurred on your first date. 

Myungjun scoffs, putting on the theatrics, clearly finding your words offensive. 

“It is so! I distinctly remember you had two drinks that evening; hence, you becoming a blushing mess around me. Ooh! You can’t forget the fact that you wanted to kiss me as well.” He argues, acting like a child debating who’s the better superhero, Superman or Batman, with a school friend. You don’t know how you’ve managed to last an entire year with this dramatic fool. 

“JinJin! Tell her how wrong she is!” Myungjun whines to his close friend and boyfriend of Eun Byeol. 

You shoot Jinwoo a look, questioning why he’s even there on your anniversary date. 

Jinwoo pauses, silently sipping his Coca-Cola as he still needs to drive home after he’s done hiding from his girlfriend, who he accidentally angered. A look of hesitation washes over his face as the poor fella absolutely does not want to get in the middle of your guys’ argument. After all, Myungjun is the reason why he’s able to safely hide from his furious significant other. But also, that stupid pretty boy is the cause of his and Eun Byeol’s argument in the first place. 

So…

“Well, first of all, you’re both misremembering your first date because it actually wasn’t a blind date. You two had met previously at mine and Eun Byeol’s housewarming party. Then, you two decided to start out as friends because,” Jinwoo points to you, “You're in a relationship with Seokjin. Myungjun was seeing some random chick that I’ve forgotten the name for her.” He stated, debunking the first part of your love story. Before continuing with his explanation, Jinwoo chugs the rest of his soda and holds up a finger, flagging down a waiter to order another glass of Coke. 

“Alright, now where was I?” He releases a tiny burp as he continues his journey of stating the facts of your relationship, making Myungjun protest and whine. 

Then, your dork of a boyfriend leans towards you, his lips hovering over your ear. 

“Why did I let him tag along with us again?” 

“Because you two are tighter than a clam’s ass. That’s how close you two are to one another. It’s quite freaky at times.” 

Myungjun, being his dramatic self, gawked, stumbling over his words, 

“W-what? Name one-time that JinJin was with us.” 

“Last night.”

Suddenly, Myungjun’s face becomes blank. Checkmate. 

“And another thing! I wasn’t even the one who convinced you to go out that evening! It was Eunwoo!” 

Knock is copyright 2021 by jinterlude, all rights reserved.

[thiswasinevitableid]

77. a prophecy said that we’ll save the world together but I’ll be damned if I enjoy your company while we do because you insulted my best friend the first time we met

Ot4, sfw, please!

Here you go! I'm very pleased with this one

The drive hasn’t changed. The road into Kepler goes under the same covered bridges and winds up the same hills it always has. Even the views from driveway to the October House are the same one’s he watched through back windows with rising delight. He’d hoped to get here when the fall colors were still crisp and bright, but they droop from the branches like mourners from the weight of the grey rain.

No one batted an eye when he said he was moving North on Joe’s invitation; Joseph Stern inherited the ancestral home in Vermont, with its sprawling grounds and stately decay. It would make sense that he’d ask the friend who spent so many summers with him there to take up the role of groundskeeper.

Duck pulls his truck into the carport next to a languishing Chrysler Imperial. He runs his finger over the black curves, raindrops plinking on the tin roof as he wonders whether he could coax Joe into taking him for a ride.

He leaves his bags in the car for now. Letting his friend know he’s here is the top priority.

The house is just as tall and mismatched as he remembers, turrets and wide windows mixed with sloping eaves and a sun room. It’s patchwork quilt character extends to it’s color; some walls are red, others goldenrod, and the door is bright as a ripe pumpkin.

Joe christened it the October House the first summer he and Duck visited there. Joseph’s aunt, a proud spinster, suggested his transplant parents send him to the family farm for a few months of growth. When Joe showed his characteristic skepticism about spending his summer alone in Vermont, she offered to let him bring a friend. He chose Duck every year.

The October House was the last thing they spoke about the night before Duck left for basic training (and, soon after, Normandy). Joe was already slipping off the map, recruited for secret purposes by men who valued his intelligence over his humanity. He told Duck to remember the summer they were thirteen, to remember he was brave.

It wasn’t Duck Newton’s first war, but it was for damn sure his last.

He opens the door with the tarnished key Joe sent him. Anywhere else, he’d call out to find his host. But he knows where he’ll be.

One flight of creaking stairs, a left turn down the hallway of faded photos, a right into the room with the mural of Noah’s Ark on the wall, and there he is. Black hair slicked back, blue silk robe covering old scars and new, and eyes that are bluer still turning to take him in.

That’s Joe alright; immaculate even in his madness.

“You’re here.” He stands, dazzling smile reflecting the firelight.

“Told you I’d come. Can’t leave you here to get buried alive in books.” He opens his arms, unsure even as he commits to the movement. Joe hesitates, then steps across crumpled maps of stars and seas to hug him.

“I missed you.” He whispers. Duck doesn’t mention that Joe was the one to disappear once the war was over. They had one night in Huntington celebrating the boys who made it home; Joe’s smile stayed painted on the whole time, but Duck couldn’t get him alone to ask why. Then he fled north and didn’t respond to letters.

“Missed you too, Joe.” He peers over the taller man’s shoulder, takes in the mural and all the materials on the floor. Duck steps from the hug, paper crunching under his boots as he goes to trace the door of the ark, “you’re tryin to go back.”

“I want proof Sylvain was real. I, I want to see it again, to know we didn’t dream it.”

“Got a scar on belly that says we didn’t.” Duck turns, slips his hands into his pockets, “why are you really tryin to go back? They told us we couldn’t, said that if we came home the gate would shut for good.”

Joe doesn’t answer right away, runs his fingers over the badgers and bears fleeing the flood, “Do you ever wish we’d stayed?”

Duck thinks about bloody sand. Then about Jane getting married. His folks celebrating their twentieth anniversary.

“No. Christ, Joe, we were thirteen. It was fucked up to ask us to. Who the fuck asks two kids to rule a kingdom?”

A weak laugh, “and people say I’m the smart one.”

“You are.” Duck touches his shoulder, “now c’mon, smart guy, you don’t show me where my room is, I’m takin yours.”

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

“You sure this is the spot?” Barclay keeps a close eye on the gathering darkness for any bursts of sickly white.

“Yes. The maps align with the stories that they emerged near “a stone like that of a broken heart.” Indrid draws hurriedly in the dirt with his claws, his lower hands uncorking bottles as he does, “come closer, if this catalyzes before I expect, I do not want you to be left behind.”

Barclay sets a hand on his shoulder. Feels his feathers shudder as he inhales.

“It’s time. I, if this does not work, I am sorry.”

He bends, kisses Indrid between his antenna, “I trust you, little moth.”

Indrid hums as amber light fills the clearing, and then everything he knows and loves dissolves into heat and empty air.

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

It's the same static, the rush of heat like wind in a wildfire. The hairs on Duck’s arm snap to attention as Joe leaps from his chair. The door on the ark shimmers and glows with alien majesty. Then two figures fall face-first on the floor and the light is gone.

“Are you alright?” Joe bends to help the first, feathered shape but it stands in a flurry of down, the hairy figure following suit.

“Yesyes, we are fine.” The feathery one looks like a massive moth with some human features.

“Oh.” Joe grins, “I’ve never seen a Sylph like you before. This, this is incredible.”

“You know what we are?” The other asks hopefully.

“We do. We, I’m, I’m Joseph Stern, and this is Duck Newton-”

“Thank the stars.” The mothman bends one knee, his friend doing the same, “yes, we are humble emissaries of the kingdom of Sylvain. We have searched for months to find our way to you. You, who prophecy says will aid us, return and take your rightful place as kings, and save our home once more.”

“No. Nuh-uh, not a fuckin chance.” Duck steps back, spots conflict in Joe’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” The mothman stands, “you, the prophecy, my visions showed you-”

“Then they showed fuckin wrong. I just got my life into some kind of order, I’m not letting you and some giant fuckin ape-thing drag me into another mess.”

Red eyes narrow, “Do not speak of Barclay that way.”

“I’ll speak about him however I damn well please because this is my house!”

“Technically, it’s my house.” Joe sighs, “But Duck is right. We almost died saving Sylvain once before. As, as much as I miss it, I’m not sure I can go back if it means risking our lives again. I was sort of hoping for a middle ground between being stuck here and a near-death adventure.”

“Please-” Barclay steps towards Joe.

“Hey, he said no, so fuck off.” Duck growls. The Sylph growls back.

“Buddy, do you have any idea how much we risked to get here? How much energy Indrid just used to open the gate. Oh, and, by the way, without the stuff we came here for we can’t go home. We’ll be stuck here.”

“Then you shoulda had a back-up plan instead of assumin you could just say a few fancy words and get us to go back. Oughta get some brains to go with the brawn there, big fella.”

“Enough” Indrid hisses, glaring at Duck. “I do not care if you are a chosen one, nothing gives you the right to speak to him, or to me, so callously. We came to you, you who are--if I did not make it clear--our last hope, and you respond with cruelty. I ought to teach you manners, but I will restrain myself.”

“Like to see you try.” He turns to where Joe is carding a hand through his hair, expression lost, “it’s your place, so you decide how we get rid of ‘em. But I’m done here.” With that, he stomps down the stairs, already suspecting Joe will let the Sylphs stay. When it becomes clear that’s the plan, Duck heads into the garden to work and stays there until all the lights are off.

It’s just after midnight when he wakes from a dream, slicing at the air while weak cries die on his tongue. He sits up, then goes gravestone still as the door opens. Indrid’s eyes are warning lights in the dark hall.

“Are you hurt? It did not seem fair to leave your calls unanswered.”

“No. Just had a, uh, a bad dream.”

The Sylph steps through the door, turning on the small, standing lamp, “It is strange to be the only one not waking in terror for once. Well, I suppose Barclay doesn’t.”

Duck tosses off the blanket, “Fuck, is Joe-”

“He is fine now. Barclay was up looking at cookbooks when he started screaming and went to him. Your friend did not wish to wake you, but was so shaken Barclay offered to stay with him.” A little smile, “he is very comforting. Soft, too.”

“You’re sure he was just dreamin? Not sick or anythin?”

“Positive. He was yelling in some other language.” Indrid fiddles with the knick-knacks on a shelf.

Duck runs a hand across his face, “Probably German.”

Indrid cocks his head.

“He had to learn it when he was a, uh, a spy in the last war. The one here. He...he got caught, I only know that because everyone talked about how miraculous it was that he escaped. Joe never talks about it.”

“One can imagine why.” Indrid murmurs.

“Then ‘one’ can probably imagine why I don’t want either of us near a goddamn battlefield.” Duck snaps.

“Is...oh dear, you think that is what we’re asking of you? Nono, we came here for help in preventing a war, one that may destroy both our worlds.”

“You coulda led with that, y’know?”

“I suppose. I, I am, or was, the court seer. But as the evil spread across our kingdom, it disrupted my powers. Now they’re gone entirely. It’s as if I am navigating the woods with no compass and no stars.” His antenna droop. Duck turns the chair near his bed in invitation. The Sylph moves quietly across the worn boards, “The last vision I received before they disappeared was of you two helping us; I saw a new timeline of futures, bright and hopeful, unfurl before it was gone. When you said you would not help us, it was like ripping my wings from my body mid-flight. That is why I was angry. Well, that and how you spoke to Barclay.”

“Sorry about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I just...when y’all showed up, all I could think about was bein back in the middle of a fight. Of, of seein Joe die.”

“I am sorry too. I did not know you had suffered such things.” Indrid picks at the blanket with chipped claws, “I cannot promise there would not be danger if you aid us. But I give you my word that you shall hear no more of it from me. I only wish for you to accept this quest if you wish to.”

“Thanks. That already puts you ahead of the last time.”

Indrid hums, then peers at Duck’s arm where a tattoo peeks from his shirt, “What is that?”

Duck rolls up his sleeve to reveal the pine tree, “got it because it helped me think of home.”

“Yes but how? To wear art on one’s skin, that is amazing. Do you think they could do it on mine?” He holds out his upper right arm. Duck runs a finger up it, thinking of the polished cherrywood on the table downstairs.

“Might be tricky. You need skin for it to work.”

“Blast.” Wings flutter once, “do you have more I may see?”

Duck unbuttons his shirt as Indrid scoots closer; if he’s not going to sleep tonight, at the very least he can make someone happy.

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

“Gotta say, y’all bein’ here is doin’ wonders for him.” Duck hands Barclay a glass of water as he joins him on the porch. Joseph and Indrid are sitting on a sunny path of lawn, Indrid showing the human his wings and explaining them in detail so he can make notes.

“Seems to go both ways. Indrid hasn’t been this animated since we left to find you two. He’s even more talkative.”

“Joe’s always been good at that. He can get anyone talkin, and can make almost anythin sound interestin.”

Barclay sneaks a glance at the human; he’s much friendlier these last two weeks, but his protectiveness of Joseph hasn’t waned.

“I wouldn’t say him cheering up is all on us. From what he told me, the week you got here made him feel like his cares were washing away.”

“Really?”

Barclay nods.

Duck sips his water, rubs the condensation with his thumb, “In, uh, in Sylvain, am I rememberin right that men could marry men? Ain’t always easy to tell when there’s so many kinds of beings runnin’ around.”

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? Some kinds of Sylphs, like Indrid’s, don’t even have things like men and women. I mean, when they offered you and Joseph a chance to rule as kings, the records make it sound like the two of you would have gotten married.”

Duck chokes on his water, splutters as Barclay pats his back, “I, fuck, I’d never, we’d never, I, fuck, definitely never ever didn’t think about it.”

Barclay lets the horrible excuse for a lie slide, “It’s a way bigger deal that Indrid chose me for this; being a seer makes him noble and I’m just a cook. Going off into the wild with me? Trusting me? Thought some of the ministers were gonna faint.”

“Was it just you helpin him or are you two, uh, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do. Can you blame me? Look at him” he gestures to where Indrid is spreading his wings so Joseph can study them. Stars would he like to go down there and hold the human tight while he taught him how to make Indrid purr.

“He really is somethin.” By the look on his face, Duck wants to do the same thing, just in reverse. After a moment, he murmurs, “the night before we were supposed to face the Red Devourer Joe and I were in the tent by the battlefield. Curled back to front, my arms around him and I could feel his heart beating hard as mine. Shoulda been thinkin about strategy, or prayin, or somethin’ like that, but all I could think was that I oughta kiss him, just in case we didn’t survive. But I didn’t. There were chances after that. I never took ‘em.”

“It’s not too late.”

“If you found out Indrid wanted to kiss you for years and was too chicken to, even when he thought he was gonna die, would you really let him?”

Barclay thinks of claws in his fur, of Indrid huddled against him and chirping softly when Barclay asked to kiss him.

“Of course I would.”

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

“How long until the summer?” Indrid tosses the wool scarf Duck lent him over one wing.

“Months. Y’all got here in October, which means we ain’t even into the worst of the winter yet.”

An annoyed chirr, “We need more blankets.”

“Get you more when we’re in town tomorrow, fluffball. Hah, here’s some.” Duck kneels to cut some surviving leaves from a wild yarrow. They’re out in the woods because Indrid is running low on his feather oil, which keeps him from being miserable and itchy. He described what it did and let Duck smell some (it’s a bit like aloe and vanilla) so the human could reverse engineer what earth plants might do the trick.

Duck brushes off his pants, looks around, “Huh, we made it to the Maples. Joe’s aunt said she never got much from ‘em, but I don’t think she ever really tried.”

“What is special about them?”

“It’s how you get maple syrup. It’s in these trees.” Duck smirks, remembering Indrid licking the dregs from the bottle at the house with his long, long tongue.

Crunch

He whirls to his left, finds Indrid with both rows of teeth sunk into a maple branch. He giggles, then guffaws as the Sylph pulls off with an indignant chirp.

“You, you gotta, hee, you gotta tap the trunk, n-hee” he doubles over as Indrid bites the same branch while drumming his claws on the trunk, “not quite, need some other tools.”

“Perhaps lead with that?” Indrid grumbles, wiping bark from his face.

“S-sorry just, just didn’t expect you to go to town on it like that, heee”

Indrid grins, “It was worth it to hear you laugh like this.”

God, when was the last time he laughed this hard? The thought sobers him, his joy faltering like a bird in a storm. Then he cackles as four spindly arms hoist him into the air.

“ACKhey, put me down fluffball! Ahhno thatheee, that tickles.” He laughs louder as Indrid holds him to his chest and rubs his fuzzy face against his neck.

“I thought that might do the trick” Indrid purrs, nuzzles his cheek, “no more despair, Duck Newton. Not today.”

Duck turns his face so they’re eye to eye, pine green to ruby red, “Deal.”

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

“I found everything on the list.” Joseph crumples the note paper and tosses it away as Barclay gleefully unpacks the shopping bags.

“This is so fucking great, I can’t wait for you guys to try this, and Indrid is going to lose his mind when he sees what I made. This dessert is his favorite.” He tucks the heavy cream and pears into the fridge.

“I’m excited to try it. We definitely didn’t eat any tarts when we were in Sylvain. The badgers who hid us from the red mist were, I think, pretty poor.”

“Yeah, the borderlands were bad off in those days. I was just a kid too but I remember digging out roots to try and make some kind of soup.” The Sylph turns those endearing brown eyes on him, “up for being my kitchen assistant again?”

“Always.” Joseph tucks a dishcloth into his belt. He’s very proud of himself for finding earth equivalents to all the ingredients Barclay needed to make a fall dinner from home. Having the Sylphs living with them means he goes into Kepler more often for groceries or goods to fix up the house. Everyone in town thinks his childhood friend is a good influence, getting him out of the stuffy confines of the October House.

They’re not wrong. When Joseph saw Duck in the doorway, a little world-worn but just as kind, just as practical as he always was, he decided that if the other man didn’t want to return to Sylvain, Joseph would set the project aside. He’d focus on the world he was in, because with Duck there he might yet find things to marvel at, things to discover that weren’t mired in the mundanity of human evil. They’d make the October House into a home, live out their days as bachelors.

Then Barclay had come through, auburn-furred and so gentle Joseph wanted to make like butter in the sun and melt. And Indrid, magnificent and vulnerable (and very infatuated with Duck). When Duck announced he’d help them look for clues to stopping the war, Joseph felt buried bits of his mind rising to the light of the new challenge.

After dinner, they take a pot of coffee into the living room. Indrid is delighted by records, is already putting one on as Barclay puts wood on the fire. The seer lays on the rug, head in his lovers lap and purring low.

Love me like there's no tomorrow

kiss me like it's goin' out of style

“You know, I wonder how one dances to this. It is not fast, but the rhythm is not like the formal dances at court.”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Duck stands, offering Joseph his hand. Lord, he’s pictured this so many times but still has to coax his own hand to move, “Joe, you’re leadin.”

He settles his hand on Duck’s hip and holds the other, concentrates on swaying them to the beat.

Hold me like you're afraid I might get away

Love like I've been gone for quite a while

“You can come closer, Joe. I ain’t gonna bite. Not in front of company.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He presses closer, prays for Duck to rest his head on his shoulder.

Take and wrap me in the package

my future my presence and my past

And love me like there's no tomorrow

and each day might be our last

“Dearest, I am rather tired from that lovely meal you made. Shall we retire?”

“Good thinking, little moth.”

Love me like there's no tomorrow

Make each night one more remembered

we will let the heaven be our guide

“Seems they didn’t need much of a demonstration.”

“Not sure that was Indrid’s endgame.”

Just love me like there's no tomorrow

and keep me right by your side

Joseph tips his head down, whispering, “What was?”

Keep me right by your side

“Duck?”

In the crackle of silence between songs, Duck brings their lips together. Joseph forgoes their stance and pulls him against him, their hearts magnets that were finally turned the right way. Then his feet stumble on the rug, Duck pushing him back with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed.

Joseph drops into the chair, Duck pouncing before as he breathes. Joseph growls, the hunger that’s been chained threatening to crack his chest from the inside, and nips Duck’s lower lip.

“I said no bitin.”

“You said you wouldn’t bite.”

“You're right, darlin’” Duck cups his cheek as Joseph grips his thighs, “I’m gonna do so much more than bite.”

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

It never gets easier, waking from these dreams steeped in shame, fear, and sweat. Except this time someone’s arms are around him.

“I’m right here Joe, we’re here, we’re safe.”

“Very safe.” Indrid stands behind Barclay in the doorway, “another dream?’

“Yes. I, um, I-” he reaches for Barclay without meaning to, is ready to apologize when the Sylph slides into bed beside him.

“Is this okay?” It’s directed at both the humans.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh.”

Barclay adjusts so Joseph can hide his face in his chest. He should ask Indrid if he wants to be on the bed as well, the poor Sylph might think he’s not wanted-

“C’mon fluffball, my back is gettin cold.”

A delighted chirp and then a wing, black with a grey and red eyespot, drapes across him and Duck.

“Mmmmmm, I knew you would be lovely to hold.”

“Aim to please, sugar.”

“What happens now?” Barclay murmurs.

“My vote is we all get some sleep and work out the particulars in the mornin’.”

“Seconded” Joseph mumbles.

“We will need a good night’s rest; tomorrow I make the disguises for myself and Barclay so that we may begin our wider search.”

“Hope you guys like them.”

Joseph squeezes Barclay, smiling as Duck wiggles closer and Indrid’s wing grows heavier, “We’ll love them no matter what, big guy.”