#gonna read this fanfic over and over again until I become less insane

[euphoricsunflowers]

held against the window — lee hoseok/wonho

request: Could you write a smut of wonho being a secretary and the reader the ceo. OR they are both ceo's. Maybe fuck him against the window of the office building.

a/n: of course darling <33 hope you enjoy <3 gif is mine

disclaimer: that is this is just a fanfic so in actuality please discuss what you are and aren’t comfortable with beforehand with people and don’t just jump into stuff like this. aso please don’t involve other people (aka public sex) in your sex life. please read with caution.

word count: 2.5k

content: sub!wonho, dom!fem!reader, ceo!reader, tall!reader (i’m sorry but there’s literally only like one line and i’m doing this for me) ceo!wonho, fingering (m receiving), pegging, minor nipple play, minor dumbification, fucking him against a window,

summary: he’s a powerful ceo just like you are, but he’s just so sweet and docile and soft that you wonder if he’s even the same person.

lee hoseok.

smart. calculated. muscular. dangerously attractive.

he’s an enigma, in a sense, to you. he’s rich, he’s insanely intelligent, he’s beyond adept at running his company, and he’s just so gorgeous that you wonder how he isn’t the cockiest asshole ever, but he’s also so kind and so sweet and so startlingly shy that it all just throws off everything about him.

“mr. lee is here, miss,” your assistant pops their head in through the door, “should i show him to your office?” you nod, murmuring a small “thank you” before you focus back on your laptop, finishing up typing before the door opens once more, and the man of the hour steps inside your office.

“hello,” you say.

“hello, good morning,” he smiles back, looking almost cute in the way he smiles, sitting in the chair opposite from yours at your desk, “thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with me- can i call you y/n?”

“go ahead,” you tilt your head as you hear him talk, but you don’t honestly pay attention to what he’s saying, too lost in his eyes and the fact that his shirt is way more unbuttoned than seems appropriate when meeting another company’s ceo.

he keeps talking, but it’s becoming visible how out-of-it you are, especially when he tentatively waves a hand in front of your face to get your attention, “everything okay in there?” he jokes.

“yeah! yes, i’m fine, hoseok, please continue,”

“are you sure you want me to?” he asks, voice still soft but now it’s almost teasing in its softness, and it’s startling, flustering because obviously, you don’t. your mind is everywhere but this conversation, “i can- we can do something else if you’re not too interested in what i’m saying.”

“god, i’m so sorry, hoseok-”

“don’t be, it’s okay,” he murmurs, getting up out of his chair, “well, come on, come and get me,” he murmurs cheekily, and you cautiously step out of your chair, closing the distance enough to whisper and have him hear, “look, if i’m reading this wrong, then just let me know and i’ll apologize, leave, and probably never look you in the eye again if i’m being honest,” he giggles out of nervousness, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, “but, if i am reading this right, then kiss me.”

“you’re… demanding, you know,” you complain (not really) as you pull him in fully, touching his jaw gently with the tips of your fingers as you kiss. his lips are so soft and thick that you just can’t help but pull on his bottom lip with your teeth gently. he breathes out a soft and inconspicuous moan, exactly what you wanted, and his hands find your hips as he pulls you closer, and his every movement seems to drive you insane, “how are you so…?”

he tilts his head in confusion so cutely that it stirs a certain feeling inside of you, “so what?”

“so…,” you blank before the perfect word hits you, “perfect,” he huffs, but you continue, “genuinely, you’re just so enticing, you’re so beautiful,” your lips find his neck, gentle in the way you nibble at his neck, even as he squirms in your grasp, making you simply just hold him tighter against you, “you’re so docile and passive, it’s everything i want.”

his small, gasps and breathy moans keep you going, intent on dragging more out of him, “you- can people see us on the outside of that window??”

“if they look up, maybe, but we’re on a very high floor,” you respond between small bites on his neck, and as you become less and less gentle with him, he whimpers, “hoseok,” you whisper, “if you at all need or want to stop, just let me know, okay?”

“i- uhm, okay, i don’t want you to, though,” his hands hold your waist loosely, playing with the edges of your tucked-in shirt.

you chuckle endeared at his response. he’s so sweet (both in the way he tastes and the way he acts) it makes you wonder if this man was even real, “good, because i enjoyed that whimper much more than i should have,” he breathes heavier after hearing those words, so physically affected it’s like this man was created and molded to your exact tastes, “since you brought up the window, let’s give everyone a show, hm?”

“you- uh- what? what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean, baby,” you mumble, the pet name so sickeningly sweet off your tongue that he can’t help the way he succumbs to you, “i’m going to fuck you so hard against the window,” you pull him as you take cautious steps back towards the window until your back hits the window, “i’m going to make sure the whole city knows that the lee hoseok is just my little whore.”

you take the breath out of his lungs with every word past your lips and his knees go weak at your words. you flip over to hold him against the window, finally getting him where you want him.

“is that what you want, hoseok?” you ask, but you know the answer. he nods, biting his bottom lip anxiously, “you want everyone to see you like that? that’s so naughty,” you tease.

“i- oh god-“ he exclaims with a heavy breath as you flip him over, feeling upon his body even if his shirt is in the way, letting your hands wander a little lower to grope his ass. he bites his lips, but he can’t hold in his moans for very long.

“you feel perfect against me, baby, so perfect,” you wrap your hands around him to unbutton his shirt, “let’s get this off of you, hm?” he shyly helps you shrug the fabric off of him, “don’t bother with trying to not get fingerprints on the window, they’ll be a reminder of who touched it.”

your hands resume touching him, running against his skin, feeling up every perfectly built muscle on his torso, noticing how he went from overwhelmed and sensitive to teased and desperate so quickly, noticing how hard he’s gotten. aside from moans or soft curses, he’s quiet. you keep your eyes on his facial expressions, especially when your fingernails brush his nipples, “ah-!” he cries out.

“oh? that’s enough to get a cry out of you?” you smirk, seeing him become flustered at your taunting, “then you’re really in for it, baby. i’m gonna fuck you so hard you see stars, and if we break the window?” you lean in to really whisper to him, reaching down to start unbuckling his belt, throwing it off of him, “then good. i’ll be smiling while i pay for the repairs. now, strip all the way down.”

as he obeys, you do the same, throwing off all your clothes and making an absolute mess of your office. you search through one of your drawers, “ah, there it is,” you say, grabbing a couple more things and setting them on your desk before returning to hoseok, now naked and trying to cover himself as he stands a little bit away from the window, “baby, if you’re uncomfortable with any of this, i need you to tell me,” you say you press kisses to his shoulder to soothe him a bit.

“no, no i’m okay! this is really hot, actually, i’m just-” he’s more nervous as you guide him towards the window again, and he puts him hands up against it just like before, “i’m just getting shy.”

“it’s cute, hoseok, i like it when you’re shy,” your hands massages his skin, specifically at his hip as a way to keep him in place and also comfort him, “but if that shyness becomes discomfort, tell me.”

“i- okay,” he nods, and your hands once again find his ass, and he whines just like he did before.

“you have such a nice ass, you know,” you murmur absentmindedly as you squeeze, “i mean, the rest of you is perfect too, god i just can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“i- i want to touch you too,” he whispers, “i just- you’re giving me all the attention, and you’re so pretty yourself that i just- i want to make you feel good too.”

“maybe later, hoseok,” the way your lips say his name is like a venom and he loves it, it’s all he wants to hear, “for now, just let me have you.”

“oh-okay,” he stutters, giving in so sweetly, “i’m yours, y/n, yours.”

“you’re adorable,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his shoulder again before your wet and cold fingers press against his hole. he’s not even sure he saw you put lube on them but he’s startled when he feels the touch. even still, he lets you push your fingers in to the first knuckle, keeping them still for a moment before making slow circles.

“you can- you know,” he mumbles, and you laugh at his shyness before pushing your fingers in more, watching the strain on his face with a subtle sense of pleasure, he’s just so cute like this. he groans, “oh my god, you- oh, fuck- your fingers feel so-”

“and these are just my fingers, hoseok. imagine how wrecked and fucked out you’ll be with my strap on even deeper in your ass,” you press a kiss just below his ear, taunting him with your words slightly, “i doubt you’ll even be able to stand, but i’ll keep you held up against this window so you don’t have to worry that the people down there don’t get to see how slutty you are.”

he moans with a cry as your fingers brush that spot, and his eyes shut as his cheeks go red with embarrassment.

“did that feel good?” you ask, rubbing your fingers over the spot to try and drag that same reaction out of him, and he’s just a beautiful sight. he’s trying to catch his breath, he’s failing to catch his breath. his eyes roll back as his head falls back against your shoulder, “aw, can you not handle the pleasure? it’s just my fingers, seok. you’re going to need to prepare yourself if you’re getting this messed up over just my fingers.”

“i want- i want more than just your-“ he breathes, his voice so dry and airy that it makes him sound so much more desperate, “please fuck me.”

“sure thing, doll,” you kiss the side of his neck (making him flinch at the now sensitive skin from all your bites. he’s pretty sure you left some bruises) your fingers leaving him makes him whine, but feeling the cool touch of the strap on against his ass reminds him that this wasn’t over; it hadn’t even begun. you push it in slightly, seeing the overwhelmed look

on his face almost makes you hesitate, but you get it fully inside of him before you wait to continue, keeping him still against you while he adjusts, you say, “it’s so fun to think about how someone as powerful and influential as you is, in reality, just a cute little hole for my strap,” he jaw is slacked and his eyes are shut, like he’s not even mentally present at all, “you just look so cute and dumb, it makes me want to lose all control and fuck you until you break.”

“please. please, fuck me- fuck- until i break,” he whines, even pushing back against your strap slightly, and that’s your queue to let go of that caution you’ve been holding, and just go for it. you almost pull out completely just to push back in entirely and harshly, and he cries out.

“you’re really in for it, baby,” you say as you rock your hips back and forth, finding a comfortable pace for yourself that is still intense and overwhelming for him, making sure to hit it deep, holding him close by his waist and pushing harshly, “now, don’t be shy, moan for me.”

he does, crying out moans so beautiful you’d think he has the voice of an angel. he keeps his arms against the window, above his head, and he looks down at all the people. he thinks about what they’d think if they looked up and saw him like this? would they recognize him? why did the though of being caught like this both horrify him and excite him like no other?

but all those thoughts fade away as he gets more and more worked up, only really focused on how good he feels and how he wants to feel even better, “you look so pretty and docile like this, hoseok, but you know, i bet you look even better when you’re cumming,” your hand reaches down to give some attention to his cock, and he moans even louder, even more, “i can’t wait for you to completely fall apart.”

“i- oh, fuck, fuck, god-” he stammers, getting closer, so startled by how easy he was to get this close, this fucked up, but your hand works his cock so good and you fuck him so good that he can’t help that all the stimulation is becoming too much, and he’s getting closer to the edge, “fuck, i’m gonna cum, please-”

“cum, hoseok. show me just how much of a whore for me you are,” you mumble in response, and that’s enough to push him over the edge. he arches his back, his head thrown back like before, and he cries out a loud moan as you continue to fuck him through his orgasm, keeping pace until he starts to whine instead of moan, and that’s your queue to slow down and pull out, holding him up because he might not be physically strong enough to stand if you didn’t.

“t-thank you, that was- that was amazing,” he breathes heavily as you turn him around gently, keeping him up as he catches his breath, “let me return the favor now, please.”

he seems okay enough for you to let go now, and you move to sit on your chair instead, “i mean, if you would like to eat me out until your jaw is sore, then by all means, baby: enjoy your meal.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @foenixs @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @rosiethefairy @domreaderrecs and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[operaghostnocturne]

The Problem with ‘Love Never Dies.’

“Love Never Dies,” 2012 Starring Ben Lewis as The Phantom, Anna O'Byrne as Christine, watched on Youtube, 4/24/2020 SPOILERS.  I would like to note: I enjoyed the set design, costume design, some of the music, and production of this version of Love Never Dies.  I also really liked the actor’s performances.  They did a good job.  I especially loved Ben Lewis’s singing voice.  (Derrick Davis ((US Restaged Tour)) is still my favorite.) The problem with Love Never Dies is its a sequel to Phantom of the Opera, the characterization, and writing. ALW’s Phantom of the Opera stands alone. It was never meant to have a sequel.  It really doesn’t need one.  I do feel there is a big disconnect between POTO and LND. I think LND could be rewritten to have nothing to do with the original POTO and would not suffer for it. To me, LND feels like someone’s fixit fanfic that doesn’t actually fix anything.  POTO is also insanely iconic.  It is hard to follow it up. While LND’s music is pretty good, I don’t think its nearly as memorable nor iconic as POTO’s.  I also don’t feel it balanced original POTO music with new material.  Honestly, it needs to pick one. Something ALW does in his musicals is reuses the notes of a song, mixed in a different pattern to make a new one.  “The Music of the Night” and “All I Ask of You” are like this (look at sheet music if you don’t believe me.)  This is not a complaint.  This helps with cohesion of a musical.  It also makes refrains, duets with battling music, and sometimes even story, clearer. When its done well, its unnoticeable. In fact, I got to play a POTO compilation in a semi-professional concert orchestra in high school.  I never noticed ALW does this until when someone pointed it out to me like a month ago.  In LND, I can constantly hear the rifts from the first musical, to the point where I think one of those songs is about to start, or it gets super distracting.  I noticed this especially in ‘Why Does She Love Me?’  I’m 80% sure it was based of POTO’s main theme (like the song ‘Phantom of the Opera,’ or the ‘Overture.’)  Again, I liked most of the music in LND.  But it doesn’t hold a candle to POTO. oh look I made a pun. Having said that all that: LND feels like a sequel mostly to 2004.  In my opinion, 2004 has the most sympathetic version of the Phantom, and the one that could most likely end up with Christine in the end.  Especially compared to the US Restaged Tour.  In 04, I also feel like the Phantom and Christine (not their actors) feel closer in age than other productions of the musical, other Phantom adaptations, and even the book.  (For those who don’t know: Erik is 50-60 in the book, Christine is like, 16.) LND’s writing is not great.  First of all: THE PHANTOM’S NAME IS ERIK. I know they were trying to have a MYSTERY pun. Mister Y does not work for that, especially in a format that ISN’T BEING. READ.  I can understand why its left out in POTO, as it lends the Phantom some mystery (though I do not like it.) There is LITERALLY no reason not to have the Phantom called Erik it LND. Granted, this is a complaint I have from POTO too.  I kinda feel like the Phantom not having a name dehumanizes him. That is a discussion for another day. I absolutely HATE that the Phantom runs a circus company.  A big part of Erik’s trauma comes from being in a freak show.  I don’t believe Erik would be willing to go back to that.  I also don’t think it would be his scene.  The Phantom of the Opera belongs in an Opera house, or at the very least a music all. I don’t know why he couldn’t have started something like that instead of a freak show.  Or perhaps be an eccentric composer. Especially if he is getting help from the Giry’s.   I do think its fitting that he’s working with/employing disabled, or deformed people, and other societal outcasts.  However, being the owner of the VERY THING that treated him horribly is pretty bad, especially since we don’t know if he treats these people any better than he was treated. Also, every time the music switched to ‘show tunes,’ I felt Erik’s soul dying.  On that note, when LND shifts from a musical to addressing the audience directly in its ‘show tunes’ sections, its jarring.  It breaks the fourth wall way too much and really pulls the audience out of whats going on.  The way Erik is in POTO, chased away from the world and the light, is why he is like he is.  He became fascinated with the night, the macabre and darkness because of his experiences with the world. That’s a pretty big point in POTO.  Its one of the things that make him sympathetic. After all “THE WORLD SHOWED NO COMPASSION TO ME!” is the Phantom’s excuse in the final lair. LND tramples over that.  Gustave seems to be interested in the same darkness his biological father is, as seen in “The Beauty Beneath.”  Erik’s obsession with the dark, night, and macabre is turned into genetics.  Which is pretty bad for Gustave if you think too hard about it. Erik is a serial killer.  I do believe talent can be passed in genetics.  I also think the way we view said talent and how we use it is shaped by personal experiences and preferences.  On that note, Gustave could have gotten his musical abilities from his mother, or his grandfather, both of whom are also talented musicians.   Another thing LND suffers from, is making Christine a prize again. Raoul and Erik do not see her as a person.  ‘Devil Take the Hindmost’ is literally the boys having a dick measuring contest, with Christine as the prize.  That is not okay. I hated the ending. For several reasons.  First of all, the Phantom is still abusive.  He is a puppet master. He is still not capable of having a healthy relationship with Christine.   Secondly, Christine dies. ALW, if you are gonna write a fixit fic the LEAST you could do is let Erik be happy.  Plus, Christine is killed by a cliche ‘I just wanted you to notice me’ subplot. One that wasn’t entirely well set up or thought out.  Which is disappointing and frustrating.  Last two things I hated: when Christine kisses Erik for the last time, she doesn’t take off his mask.  I feel like they missed a good opportunity to show Christine being completely accepting of who Erik is, including what he looks like (again, would be better if Erik wasn’t abusive.)  I also NEVER like it when we don’t get to see Erik’s deformity in any version of Phantom.  The only other one that doesn’t I’ve seen/read is Dance. (Which I dislike greatly. Its at the bottom of my list.)  I’m kinda good either way if Gustave goes with Erik or Raoul (preferably neither, if I get a choice, which I don’t.)  Erik and Gustave can connect over music in a way Raoul and Gustave cannot. Erik can teach Gustave about music and the beauty beneath. Raoul did raise Gustave.  Raoul might also have a serious heart change after the events of LND that we are not shown.  Or we can do that one AU where Raoul and Erik become Gustave’s two dad’s (either gay or not, whatever floats your boat.)

The worst thing about LND is it completely ignores the character growth in its predecessor. Characters completely regress into who they were before the ending of POTO.  This is annoying and bad writing. Lets start with Meg and Madame Giry.  I don’t like that Madame Giry is helping Erik. Yes, she helped him escape the freak show in 2004 (and possibly other versions.) BUT, she was also absolutely TERRIFIED of the Phantom in POTO.  She helped Raoul find the Phantom’s Lair, with the full knowledge that Raoul intended to put a stop to Erik’s madness.  I think it would be more likely that Madame Giry would stay as far away as Erik as she possibly could. Madame Giry also feels like a secondary greedy villain in LND, and that feels WAY off base for her. Maybe Erik being manipulative has rubbed off on her? Again, I don’t think she would be in this position in the first place (nor would Erik be manipulative, because I see him as realizing he DUN HECKED UP at the end of POTO). Meg, I could see wanting to help the Phantom (she even does in some versions.)  I see this as her being enthralled by the legend of the Phantom, and less that they actually know each other. As for her loss of innocence, I don’t think it was set up well, nor was it executed well. Also, Meg wanting the Phantom to see her is a cliche. Cliches can be okay, if they are handled well. I don’t think LND wrote it well. The only person I feel that has consistent characterization from POTO is Raoul (well, a specific version of it.)  I have always been of the opinion that Raoul is a jerk.  Having him spiral into gambling and drinking after a traumatic event is not surprising.  Could be something that was always there, could be PTSD.  Who knows, it wasn’t really talked about beyond Raoul feeling sorry for himself, and him being frustrated that he can’t connect to Christine on a musical level. Christine’s arc in POTO was about taking back her own power and becoming her own person. Of letting go of the past and moving forward.  This is thrown out. She is once again caught between two men in a dick measuring contest, both of which are trying to manipulate her to one side or the other, completely powerless.  This time, there really wasn’t a way for her to get it back. I feel like she felt obligated to sing for the Phantom, even without Gustave’s life being threatened, and the Phantom’s manipulation is what made Raoul leave  (Granted, I think Raoul leaving makes sense in the context of LND.)  Christine has no agency in LND. Finally, the ending of POTO is what redeems Erik.  He is the one with the biggest character arc and character growth. He learns the most.  I do believe he had a genuine heart change at the end of POTO.  What happened wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he needed to become a better person, and start moving past his trauma. Ignoring that is a big mistake. Yet, in LND, he is back to being an arrogant, abusive, manipulative, puppet master.  Sometimes, I can see small pieces of character growth. He seems less bothered by his appearance, and maybe slightly more mature. Though, even these glimpses are often overshadowed or ignored in the next scene.   LND is NOT continuation of the characters we met in POTO. Much of the writing that connects LND with POTO is meh.  Honestly, in some ways it feels like less a sequel and more its very own adaption of Phantom. Which is half its problem.

[best-enemies]

For the fandom ask meme thing can I request the whole damn alphabet or is that not very cash money of me? I’m nosy lmao I wanna know all of them!

AHDKAJSDKJAHSKDA JACK YOU’RE THE BEST

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

I’ve had my current OTP for like almost 8 years and it’s, obviously, Thoschei (Doctor/Master). My other current obsession is the Gallifrey OT4 hehehe

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

It’s funny because I didn’t ship Hannigram at first... I’d thought the idea of a cannibal having a relationship was terrifying because what if they had sex and Hannibal got hungry in the middle of the act? Lmaoooo 

But yeah they’re my endgame now. I watched the show when it first aired and I was about 14/15 years old so now you see why I thought that. Although I’m still afraid I’m gonna be reading a fic and Hannibal will suddendly bite Will’s dick off or smth AKJHSAKJSAHSASKAJ

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will (be nice)

Uhhh Doctor/Clara. Mainly because I don’t like to ship the Doctor with companions (there may be one or two exceptions but I don’t ship them enough to actually say I ship them lol) and I don’t know I just never vibed with it

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t (again: be nice)

Doctor/River. I mean, I did like it for a while years ago but now it’s just... eh. I think she has a waaay better chemistry with the 12th Doctor, but still don’t ship it. I might give it a try once I listen to the River audios but so far meh. I’m not much of a multishipper anyway.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

God. I’ve written a couple of Academy Era (focused on the Deca) crack fanfics and I still have to translate them to English. They’re pure garbage but I love them. I have a lot of fun writing crack fics because they’re easier and I can ignore whatever piece of canon I want just for the laughs

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Guess it’s Doctor Who, been here (in and out of the fandom) for over 8/9 years

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

Uhhhh I think it was Han Solo and Leia, since I was a kid really. I wanted to marry both of them lol

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)

I had to google what a source text is and still don’t know

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

I don’t think so, but Twitter definitively has. I remember a couple years ago I was curious to see what voltron was about and watched a few episodes, it was ok, fun and cute but the fandom was so annoying I stopped watching it for good and don’t care about it enough to pick it up again

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

I had definitively forgotten about supernatural until I saw it all over my dashboard in the year of our lord 2020 lmao like in my wholock days I tried to watch the show because everyone on my dash (is it still called dashboard?) was talking about it and I watched about 8 episodes before dropping it. But seeing it again on the dash was actually a happy surprise because the memes are too funny hahaha

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

I’m extremely shy irl and on the internet as well but I wanna say that  @janeturenne is one of the best authors ever and her fanfics are a blessing in my life; also @thebraxiatelcollection who brings awesome content to my dash and is also one of the best authors. And of course, you, Jack, also one of the best authors god I’m so BLESSED

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike)

Uhhh I guess I’m neutral about the current companions. They’re not my favorites but I don’t really dislike them - they had a lot of potential and chibs came up with some good storylines but did not develop them well in my opinion. I think Graham is a fun grandpa whom I’m going to miss when he leaves; Ryan is cool and could’ve done a lot more if the writers had kept a few things, it’d be awesome if he vlogged all of their adventures. He’s like the one I was curious to see more but sadly didn’t feel a connection; and Yaz, I hope she’ll keep growing and that her friendship with the Doctor will finally be developed to a level we can connect to her.

It sounds weird because with the fam it’s always ‘what I wish could have been’ because I never felt really connected to them :(

M - Say something genuinely nice about a ship that you don’t ship (or its shippers, or anything related to you)

Ok... I don’t really ship Rey/Finn but I think it’s one of the sweetest ships ever, and if they ended up together I’d be happy. They love each other and are there for each other always so, yeah :D

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

I don’t know if I got the question right but it’s three things I wish I saw more in my main fandom? Well, if it’s that, then, 3 things about the Doctor Who fandom: 1) people having more civilized or light-hearted discussions about things. Like, I genuinely disliked an 8th doctor audio I listened once that my friends loved, and they made fun of me and we joked about it. Also once we were in a live twitch video playing among us and discussing doctor who, and then we got into a ship “discourse” as a joke and nobody really cared and just laughed because everyone knew it’s fictional shit so why get mad over it? 2) Doctor Who has a titanic amount of content, it’s all canon but at the same time it’s not, so who cares? If you want to listen to Big Finish audios and if you can afford it, then lisiten; if you can’t, it’s okay, no one has the right to tell you you’re less of a fan. Just tell them to fuck off; 3) The best way to keep fandom alive is by creating content. Here in my local fandom we have several podcasts dedicated to all areas of the whoniverse (the show, the expanded universe, the audios, etc), those old fandom websites who do serious work to bring news to the fans, people who make subtitles for the classic series (we don’t have it available here so they do their best to make it accessible to other fans), accounts dedicated to promoting dr who fans who create content, and we even have people making their own audiodramas with dw characters and writing book-lenght fanfiction to help explain the show to people who’ve never watched it, and a great variety of things. I’ve seen a few of these things in the international fandom, mostly by older fans, so I wish younger fans about my age who have the means to make this kind of stuff would make it too. Maybe there’d be less twitter drama out there lol

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

“the killing moon” by echo & the bunnymen reminds me of thoschei. yep it was totally random

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

The fact that we don’t have a pride and prejudice AU for brax/romana yet is driving me insane

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

I’ve mentioned it before but doctor/river, don’t really remember why idk I just don’t vibe with it anymore. But also because thoschei has so many different pairings in 1 ship that I don’t really feel the need to ship them with anyone else lol

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

GOD I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT’S SO SPECIFIC ok fellow academy era stans gather around if you have read Divided Loyalties there’s a scene where it SHOWS that Magnus had a crush on Ushas. And NO ONE HAS EVER TALKED ABOUT THEM and the power couple they would’ve made. I write them into all my fanfics in hopes of making other people ship them but I’ve had no success so far

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

The Master is a big fan of musicals and in the 77 years he spent on earth he watched every single one ever. I’m gonna be bold and say that when he was young, still Koschei, he was an artist, and thought about dropping everything to become an actor on Gallifrey. Time Lords do appreciate art, and have their own plays, but it’s just the same old and boring ones the young people don’t care about. The Master then created a shocking performance that was way ahead of its time and the older Time Lords were so appalled they banned him from writing and presenting plays and that’s his villain origin story

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

1) The Doctor and the Master married on Gallifrey and the entire show is just them having the most litigious divorce in the universe (still isn’t final because the Master has killed all the judges); 2) Ushas/The Rani is ace; 3) The Deca was a 10 people polyamorous relationship; 4) Romana and Livia were girlfriends at the Academy and they hate each other now because the break up was baad; 5) Romana writes fanfiction; 6) Romana/Leela had a thing in Davidia I KNOW it; 7) Leela pegs Narvin; 8) Brax has a life-size painting of Romana at his collection or a statue or smth; 9) Brax’s dream in Reborn is actually REAL and he’s married to Romana, Leela and Narvin all at the same time

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

I don’t even think I’m in 5 fandoms but

Doctor Who: The Master, The Doctor, Romana, Leela, Sarah Jane, Bill (this was the hardest thing ever)

The X-Files: Mulder, Scully, Monica, and can I add The Lone Gunmen too?

Star Wars: Leia, Obi-Wan, Finn, Poe Dameron and honorable mention to Din Djarin and Grogu

Hannibal: Hannibal, Will, Bev, Alana, Chiyoh

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

That’s hard

Doctor Who: thoschei ofc, gallifrey ot4.......... uuhh as you can see i don’t ship many pairings in the show

The X-Files: Mulder and Scully. And whatever Scully and Monica had going on because they definitively flirted

Star Wars: Poe/Finn, Han/Leia, whatever Han/Lando had going on too

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships

WHATVASHAJSKAJSA ok this is a little embarassing but I don’t have a lot of kinks for many ships... I guess I have some for thoschei like, choking, whipping, blindfolds/gagging, bondage, begging, biting, sem-public, phone sex, dirty talk, body worship, praise kink, etc. Alright alright I know it’s a lot but in my defense they've shown half of these on the show

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

The Master, Romana, Leela, Brax, Narvin, Bill Potts, Martha Jones, Sarah Jane, Donna Noble, Lucie Miller. No particular order for most of them but the Master is my precious baby and I will die for this mf

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

Not many, usually the people I follow are in the same fandoms as I am but I’ve seen some mutuals reblog some Hadestown stuff which is a play that I’ve never seen but definitively would because the protagonists look hot 

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I DON’T KNOW WHAT DOES IT MEAN

it took me three hours to do this but it was fun!! thank you bb <3

[aliceslantern]

Grow, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 3

Suddenly human and abandoned in the Keyblade Graveyard, Demyx struggles to survive and come to terms with what his life is. Only by chance is he saved from exposure, and brought to Radiant Garden to recover. Unsure of who he is and where to even begin, Demyx finds a kindred spirit in Ienzo, and before long finds perhaps he isn't the only one lost in this new life. But how can they move forward with so much holding them back?

Roughly canonverse, Zemyx, hurt/comfort. Started for Zemyx day (9/6). Updates Wednesdays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Newly recovered, Demyx tries to figure out what he wants from this life.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Demyx was getting used to being prodded by Even. He checked on him at least once a day. The more time passed, the more often Demyx looked forward to it, because at least he was someone to talk to. As long as he was tethered, he couldn’t really go anywhere by himself.

“Admittedly I know little about ophthalmology,” Even said, staring deep into his eyes with the same penlight. “These should help. I had Ansem print them for me.” He handed Demyx a pair of glasses.

“...Ansem?”

“Oh--right. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” His lip curled. “The former king of Radiant Garden. This is his castle.” His tone was bitter.

Demyx only knew a little about the story of the apprentices from his time in the Organization, and that he suspected was embellished. “So is he, like, your boss?”

“No,” Even said shortly. “He was our mentor--in the past, anyway. Now we work together.”

“With Kairi.”

“Yes. Try those, will you? I have to get back down there soon.”

Demyx put them on. After days of blurriness, to have clarity back was odd. “Whoa. HD.”

“I had to hazard a guess at the strength.”

“No, they’re fine.” He blinked.

“Well, that just means the poor vision has nothing to do with what you went through.” He shook his head. “One less thing to worry about.”

“You must be busy.”

“Idle hands make the devil’s work,” Even said absently. Then, “well… I suppose busy hands do too.”

“What do you guys do down there?” He swung his legs back and forth a little.

“You know of the princesses of heart, yes? Kairi’s one of them. We’re hoping given her connection to Sora, and the special properties of a heart of light, we might be able to find answers as to where that boy is. If he is.” A pause, then, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s not like you understand.”

Demyx shrugged, trying to hide how he was stung.

“Regardless, it is a concrete goal to work towards… and for that I’m thankful.”

He turned away. With his newly sharpened vision, Demyx could see more acutely the lines around his eyes, the gray mixed into his blond hair. He looked exhausted. “Thanks, Ev,” he said. “Do you know how much longer I’m gonna need this?” Gesturing to the port in his hand.

“Even,” he corrected, then sighed. “I suppose you have a point… your last labs were the best yet. If you’re up and about you can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. Plus I’m kind of going insane sitting here for so long.” He offered a hesitant smile.

Even considered. He went over to the sink, washed his hands, put on gloves, and grabbed some gauze. “I’m afraid this may hurt,” he said.

Demyx had thought it was just a needle, but it was more of a thin tube inside of his vein due to how long they’d thought he’d have it. Removing it did hurt a lot, and he swore out loud. But once it was gone… despite his throbbing hand… he felt so much lighter. “Can I walk around?” he asked. “Can I do stuff?”

“So long as you are careful. ”

“Thank you!” He leapt to his feet and pulled Even into a hug; he jerked as though he’d been shocked.

“Please do not touch me,” he hissed in a completely different tone. There was something dark and closed off in his eyes, more than his typical sharpness.

“I’m sorry--I’m just so glad.”

“Yes. Quite. Well.” He left without so much of a backwards glance.

Demyx bit his lip. He hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just a hug, right? He’d apologize again later when Even checked on him.

It was time to get out of this room. Apparently this place served as a sort of infirmary for the castle, though nobody else had had to come down here. It had its own bathroom, so Demyx hadn’t even needed to cross its threshold. Leaving felt odd, but it wasn’t like he was in prison.

The hallways down here were dark, without windows, sconces providing the only light. The carpeting was thick, heavy, and needed a good clean; it squished uncomfortably under his slippers. He wandered for a while, mentally taking stock every now and again so he would be able to find his way back. The layout was weird, putting it lightly, and he could see places where the castle had been renovated, or added on-to, architecture and design clashing oddly. Apparently the apprentices had all lived here in the heyday--they must live here now. It wasn’t like Demyx was a stranger to living in castles, but this one felt so much more real and old than the one in the World that Never Was. He ran his fingers along the crown moulding, touched the lamps when he saw them. This place must’ve once been nice, but it was dirty, and in a state of relative disrepair.

Would this be his home now?

The thought was jarring, and he stopped in his tracks. Pushed the glasses up his nose. The better he physically got, the more apparent it was that he had nowhere to go and nobody. No friends, no family. Hadn’t Lea and Isa just extended that invitation to be nice? Did they really mean what they said?

A weepiness came over him, and he bit it back. He felt like he’d been buffering for so long, going here nor there in his life? What did he want? Who was he really? The more he thought about it, the less Demyx felt like the self he’d been as little as two weeks ago. Was he changing? Becoming “different”?

All these thoughts were giving him anxiety.

He wandered for a little while longer, coming across a section that seemed a bit cleaner than the others. There was wood flooring here, not carpeting, and Demyx could see some old windows in the walls. A few swatches of paint were here and there. He saw a few doors here and there and tried one on impulse; it was open. He could just barely see bedroom furniture, a small rose bush in a pot by a window--

“What are you doing snooping around?”

The voice startled him; he yelped and clutched at his chest, the new glasses falling to the floor. Demyx scrambled to pick them up. Slowly, he turned and saw Dilan, Xaldin’s Somebody, in a blue uniform. Frowning. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know… I’m guessing this is your room, then?”

“...Quite,” he said gruffly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go barging into spaces you haven’t been invited to.”

“Of course. Yeah.”

There was a pause. His hair was neater than Xaldin’s, Demyx realized, and was his skin a bit darker.

“I didn’t know you guys lived here,” Demyx continued. “I was just… taking a look around.”

“You’re up on your feet, then?”

“Well. Obviously.” He cleared his throat a little. “I haven’t been able to leave that room for like a week.” A wry laugh.

“Ienzo told me what happened.” Dilan shook his head. “What a cruel thing to do.”

Demyx shrugged. He and Xaldin hadn’t had the best rapport in the Organization days, and he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re well, though?” he asked.

“...Getting there. I think.” He rubbed at his sore arm.

“Do you… know what you’re to do next?”

“No,” he admitted slowly. “It’s been… hard.”

“Of that I am well aware.” He touched his chest.

“So… I’m gonna go,” Demyx said. “I won’t, uh, mess with your stuff.”

“Much appreciated.”

Demyx set off in the opposite direction. He was getting hungry now, his appetite only growing in the passing days. Usually someone brought along a meal to him, so he headed back. He found a sandwich and an apple on a plate on his bedside, and once this lunch was done with, he just… sat. Waiting. After a few minutes of this, he decided to take out Arpeggio to try and get his mind off of things. His fingers were a bit shaky, but within about fifteen minutes he was able to play with the same fluidity as before.

But it was… harder. Not physically. But as he picked through old compositions he felt the emptiness composed by his Nobody self, the sadness, the loneliness. At the same time, they felt like they’d been created by a stranger, despite the fact that he remembered writing them. A strange dissonance. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, a heart to truly feel music with?

What did Demyx feel?

He tried to parse it out. Empty, again? Tired, sad? Overwhelmed?

Having a heart was supposed to be easy.

He let Arpeggio fade and curled up. A cool breeze came in through the cracked window. He stared out at the little bit of town he could see, feeling on the verge, the breath of remembering--

“I thought I heard you playing. How do you feel?”

Demyx’s head snapped up. He saw not Even, but Ienzo, in that white-coat getup. He was carrying a small bundle. “Um, alright,” he said, blinking yet more tears out of his eyes. “Where’s Even?”

“He and Ansem are trying to solve a problem with one of our simulations.” He cocked his head a little. “I do know enough about medicine.”

“I know, I just…” He swallowed, and considered telling Ienzo. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“I brought you some more clothes, too. And this.” He held up a gummiphone. “You might find a use for it--if you don’t break this one.”

Demyx took it from him. “Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have to--”

“The castle is large. It makes it easier to keep in touch if we all have one--heaven forbid something happen to you.” His tone was dismissive.

Ienzo came over to him, went through the familiar motions of taking his vitals. He listened to Demyx’s heart. It was strange to be so close to him, and a little uncomfortable in a way Demyx couldn’t define. His eyes were a bit greener than Demyx remembered, and his eyebrows furrowed together just slightly. Demyx could hear him breathe. “Your heart rate’s a little high,” he said. “Are you nervous?”

He cleared his throat. “No. Ah. Just a little anxious, I guess.” He felt the blood rush to his face, trying to place that feeling.

“Why?”

“I just don’t know what to do now,” Demyx admitted.

Ienzo took the stethoscope out of his ears. “That is the question, isn’t it,” he said slowly. “After so long of having little to no choice, suddenly the world is open in front of us. Like having the rug yanked from under you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It really is. But don’t you… have your work, and stuff?”

Ienzo set the object aside. “I do,” he said. His eyes flicked up in thought. “But at the same time… I was with the Organization for considerably longer than you. Work… well, it’s something concrete to work towards.”

“Even said the same thing.”

His expression darkened a little. “We all seek to be better people. To… make up for the hell we’ve wrought. Working with the guardians of light… providing them with whatever they need to the best of our abilities... is the least we can do.”

Demyx picked at the lint on his pants. “I… thought about it, in the desert,” he admitted. In his newly-sharpened peripheral he saw Ienzo’s head snap up, his eyes widening. “If this wasn’t karma.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“But… you know…” He forced a laugh. “I’m here , right? If whatever forces exist in this world wanted me gone… I would be toast. Same for you. And Even and them. We literally came back from the dead.”

“A second chance,” Ienzo murmured. “Quite.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “But that doesn’t help tell me what to do. Or how to feel about any of it.” The blood rushed to his face. “And I’m sure you’re too busy to listen to this.”

“No,” Ienzo said. He sat down next to Demyx on the bed. He was shorter than Demyx remembered. More weird reformation? “This is the first bearable conversation I’ve had in a while.”

He snorted. “Really?”

Ienzo sighed heavily. “A lot happened that I don’t particularly care to get into at the moment. But things between us are… a bit tense.”

“...Oh.” Ienzo’s smile was small and sad. Demyx couldn’t actually remember if he’d ever seen him do it, and before he could stop himself he said, “you have a nice smile. I’ve never seen it.”

The blood rushed to Ienzo’s face.

“I’m sorry, was that weird to say?”

“No, ah.” He pulled at his collar a little. “No.” He knotted his hands in his lap. “I know in the past our rapport has been… rocky.”

Demyx bit his lip and thought back. For a long while, he and Zexion had both been part of the reconnaissance team, but whenever they’d been paired together, it hadn’t exactly ended well. Their personalities clashed like oil and water; Demyx’s carefree attitude and low ambition combined with Zexion’s perfectionism always ended in fights. “You could say that again.”

He chuckled a little; strangely, it had no sound. “Perhaps it would do to start over,” he said. He offered his hand. “I’m Ienzo.”

“Demyx. Nice to meet you.”

He pretended not to notice the tingle he felt when they shook.

[earthbovndmisfit]

Kiss me, Mister Joestar! (fanfic)

A Victorian gay man is madly in love with the sweetest gentleman. His love for him is so overwhelming that everyone around them seems to have noticed it already, including said gentleman's wife, who our sweet gay icon has become close friends with...

Is Jonathan really /that/ painfully oblivious to it all? Or could there be something more going on...? Whatever it might be, it's driving Robert insane, and things start getting even tougher on the matter for Speedwagon after the birthday party the Joestars threw for him.

A story written for Speedwagon's birthday, as you can tell by now.

Happy belated 156th birthday, you sweet dork!! <3 (posted it on the 16th on Ao3 but forgot to bring it here orz)

* * * * *

Pairings: Jonathan/Erina /&/ Jonathan/Speedwagon

* * * * *

More details and the whole fic under the cut... (if Read Mores don’t work for you and you don’t want to see this post, feel free to block the ;long post tag)

Notes: The story is set in 1889, a little less than a year after the events in PB. It’s also an AU where Jonathan lives. Everything went down the same as in canon, save for the fact that Dio died in Windknight's Lot (or at least he hasn't come back since). Jonathan's and Erina's honeymoon went as smoothly as it should have. Jonathan is also now an archaeologist, working on his many different researches on Aztec culture mainly. The rest more or less remains the same as in canon, including Speedwagon being helplessly in love with Jonathan.

In this story (and any other of my stories involving the Ogre Street gang), the Kenpo Master will be referred to as Li. That's the name I've given him: Li Jiang. I also have this headcanon that "Tattoo" is not the red-head's name, but a nickname he adopted after getting that trademark tattoo on his face (his name being Stephen O’Moore, but he's still addressed as Tattoo most of the time for his own personal reasons anyway).

Fun fact I just realized while writing this story: Just like this year's (2019) Oct 16th fell on a Wednesday, 1889's Oct 16th also fell on a Wednesday (cue a loud OH MY GOD).

Warnings: There’s a depiction of tobacco smoking. There are also a few mentions/depictions of pregnancy, and the usual cursing our dear Robert has us used to. Also “mentions” of period-typical homophobia.

Soft chuckles and giggles could be heard coming from behind the closed doors of the tea room. A bit of a feat, considering how espacious the room was. Inside, two blondes comfortably sat in the large, cushioned, armchairs around the tea table, talking about all sorts of stuff over tea and pastries, filling each other in on the other’s news and sharing a laugh every now and then and just enjoying each other's company like they would normally do on evenings like this. It was getting late, and the time to say goodbye for the night was getting closer.

"I enjoyed spendin' this evenin' with you, Miss Joestar. As always, it was a wonderful one!"

"You don't have to keep up the formalities, Robert. We have been friends for how long now?" She made a brief pause. A rhetorical question that both knew didn't need an answer. "Just call me Erina." A kind smile graced her delicate features. He nodded, still feeling a bit inadequate to address any of the Joestars by their first names, but he couldn’t simply say no to them. "And, the feeling is mutual. It is always a pleasure to have you here. I just wish Jonathan could have been able to join us today."

"He's still workin' on that thesis, isn’t he?" A soft nod of her head was given in response.

"He says he is almost done with it. It is also due next week’s Monday, so he has had to work extra hours on it these past days." There's a sense of pride in her voice despite how much she wished she could have had more time to spend with him as of late.

"I'm completely sure 'is 'ard work 's gonna pay off." It always did. Jonathan was truly a hard working man, not only on the battlefield, but also in everything he did, always giving his all. Not to mention how passionate he was about his field.

"I have no doubts about it. Now, about that week’s Wednesday..."

"Oh. Please, don't burden yourself with that!" The man was quick to reply. "It 's nothin' special at all!"

"Come on. Don't be silly, Robert." The lady offered an even warmer smile and put her hand on top of Robert's as it rested on the table, giving it a soft and friendly squeeze. "It is all the opposite to 'nothing'. And it most certainly is special, too. And I'm completely sure Jonathan thinks so, too." Well, there was no arguing to that as Speedwagon could almost hear the brunet echoing his wife's words while giving Robert a pat to his shoulder. Still…

"But, Miss Joest–" Erina gave him a look and Robert tried again. "Ahh. Sorry... Erina. Blimey. It 's just, I... I wouldn't want t' impose and be a burden t’ any of you..."

"And you won't be. Never have been such, and I assure you that will not be the case either. Besides, this will be the first time we get to celebrate your birthday together, and I know Jonathan is just as excited as if this was his own birthday." She let out a soft chuckle, and she withdrew her hand, placing it this time on top of her pregnant belly. "And I can tell this little one is excited, too." Robert couldn't help a fond smile at all that. He certainly couldn't –and wouldn’t either– let any of the three down in any possible way. Not in this life or the next one (and every other lives that could come after that).

"Alrigh', but only if you're sure this 's not a hindrance t' you or Mister Jo–.... T' Jonathan."

"You have my word on that. Please, come visit us again for the date. And bring your friends, too. The maids will make sure everything is ready for the occasion. You don't have to worry about anything at all besides gracing us with your presence and having fun." She added with such a kind tone to her voice that it made it impossible for Speedwagon to add any "buts" to the conversation.

“I swear you two are too kind t’ me sometimes…”

“You deserve it.” She added with absolute honesty. “You have always done so much for us, and for Jonathan, mainly. It is the least we can do for you.”

“It’s nothin’ grand. I’m just doin’ my part on repayin’ Jojo for all ‘is kindness and everythin’ he’s done for me since we met.”

“You always make it sound like everything you do for us is insignificant, Robert, but I assure you it is not. We truly appreciate all of your actions. And I know you are so very special to Jonathan as much as he is to you.” Robert couldn’t help the blush that was now creeping up to his face, even though Erina voicing that sort of knowledge she had was not new by now. She had long ago found out about his true feelings for Jonathan, never having any issues with it at all.

Erina was fully aware of how easy it was to love Jonathan, and she also knew some of the story between Robert and him. She had also been perceptive enough to understand that there was something more to those apparent “codes” in Robert’s general appearance, which was far different from that of most gentlemen in England. That had been something Robert gladly explained for her as their friendship grew and both became more comfortable around each other, letting her know that, indeed, there was a meaning to them all, and that he had always had a liking for men. Whatever fear or worries he could have had until then about letting her know something as delicate as that faded away almost immediately after informing her of his situation as she never made any sorts of disgusting comments, nor gave him any weird looks nor treated him poorly, like many others would have probably done. All the opposite, all he ever got from her was sympathy without any kinds of judgement, and all her support.

And it never ceased, not even after he finally caved in, some time later, and admitted to her his undying feelings for Jonathan. It didn’t take her by surprise when he did, though. Then again, Robert had always had a tendency to be quite transparent about his feelings for the gentleman even when he tried not to. It had always been crystal clear that his admiration for him went far beyond a simple friendship, and that there was so much more that was still left unsaid. Something deeper. Something vastly more meaningful and everlasting. And she fully supported it.

“I will not take any attempts of refutals, Robert, and you know it.” She promptly added, not allowing him to downplay his own acts of love towards them but, mostly, towards Jonathan once more. The blond let out a soft whine, hoping the pink dusting his face would go away soon.

“You are mean, Erina…” He simply jested this time, leaning back into his chair.

“If that is what is going to take to make you understand just how special you are to us; how special you are to Jonathan, then I will be the meanest lady you will ever meet.” She said, her tone playful, but her words sincere. And Speedwagon could see that very well in her clear blue eyes.

“I truly do not deserve a friend like you.” A soft chuckle in the shape of a huff punctuated his words. He then picked up his cup of tea, sipping the last of it’s contents so he could take his leave.

“You are a wonderful man. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

“Wish I could believe that. I mean, it ‘s not that I doubt you or anythin’!! It ‘s just...” Robert averted his gaze, unconsciously letting his head hang a little. His tone sounded defeated, and Erina could tell the reason why.

“Jojo is fully aware of how wonderful you are, too. He just...” She sighed softly, unable to find the right words for it. “He can be a bit oblivious to the signs if you are not direct or clear enough with him sometimes. Especially at moments like this, when his mind is fully absorbed by something else.” Both remained in silence for a moment. Erina’s soft hand once more offering a reassuring touch to the back of Robert’s scarred one.

“I… know. I… I just wish I ‘ad the guts t’ finally be open with ‘im and just tell ‘im ‘ow I feel.” The man didn’t do much to lift his head, slipping his eyes closed for a moment instead. Erina could feel the muscles in Robert’s hand tensing up a little under her palm, right before he lifted his head. There was pain in his eyes. “I’m scared t’ death that he might find me disgustin’ and will not want t’ see me ever again.”

“Fear of rejection is the most normal thing to feel in this type of situations. The views most people have regarding people with ‘a different taste’ than the rest does not help much on that matter, but it does not mean everyone will turn against you, and I’m almost certain you know that very well after all the experiences you’ve had, and all the people you have met around the globe.” Her tone was soft, reassuring. Even with his lack of an interest in women, it was easy for Robert to see why Jojo loved her so much. “I’m afraid I don’t have the exact answer you are looking for, but I know in my heart that, no matter what, Jojo will never think any less of you.” The pain was still visible in his gaze, but he seemed to be a bit more at ease after hearing that.

“Thank you, Erina. You are an absolute saint.” The woman then shook her head, lightly.

“I beg to differ. I just want you two to be the happiest possible.”

“And you say you’re not a saint, eh…?” Both blondes shared a soft laugh and Erina withdrew her hand once more. “Well, looks like it ‘s time for me t’ go.” Speedwagon stood up from his seat. He straightened his waist coat and adjusted his frock coat before he picked his hat and put it on his head. Erina stood up as well.

“The carriage that will take you home is waiting for you.” To which Robert could only stare at her; his eyes widening a bit and his mouth slightly agape.

“What? Blimey, that won’t be necessary. I can just–”

“I told you before: I will not be taking any negative responses for an answer.” She cut him short with that gentle tone of hers and a matching smile.

“One day, I don’t know ‘ow, but one day I will repay you two for everythin’ you’ve done for me.”

“Until then, please, be kind and accept these small displays of gratitude of ours.” Truly, there was no way they could dislike each other.

It took Robert some effort to convince Erina not to walk him to the main entrance of the mansion, but he did it. He worried too much over her and her pregnancy sometimes. It was almost comical in an endearing way just how much Jonathan and him resembled each other on that matter. However, and all that aside, the truth was that Erina was in her 8th month of pregnancy, almost the 9th, so moving around freely and without getting easily tired was not as simple as before, so she had to take it easy, mostly for the baby’s sake.

Not long after saying their farewells for the night –and Robert saying farewell to little Jojo as well–, and after greeting the coachman that was going to take him home, Robert was finally on the carriage, leaving the Joestar state. As the place began to disappear behind them, one of Speedwagon's hands went up to the chest pocket of his coat. He could feel the squared shape of the envelope Erina had given him earlier that day, shortly after he’d arrived. It was a little letter Jonathan had left for him to make up for his absence that day. He hadn't read it yet, and he was completely sure nothing out of the ordinary was written in it, and yet…

"He really took some time outta 'is day t' write this for me, huh...?" He mused under his breath, and the sole thought made his heart flutter. He was so madly in love with that man it was almost unbelievable.

With that image of Jonathan, as busy as he was, taking some time for him and writing that letter with him in mind, still lingering in his head, Robert leaned back into the cushioned seat of the carriage. He wanted to read the contents of the letter, even if there was nothing more in it than Jojo’s heartfelt apologies for missing his visit and the promise of properly making up for it and seeing him next time, but he knew any attempts of actually reading it would be futile with the lack of proper lighting inside the carriage. He let out a sigh and took his hat off, placing it on the empty seat beside him. He made himself comfortable –as comfortable as a big, 5’11” tall man like him could get in a space like that– and tried to get some sleep.

＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊

About a week later, the same carriage was seen making it’s way back to Liverpool. This time, though, there were two more passengers travelling along. The trip, unlike last time, felt a lot shorter. Probably because this time Robert had his Ogre Street mates with him all along to kill some time. Or maybe because, this time, he knew what Jonathan had wanted to tell him in the letter.

Just as Robert had expected then, there had been nothing particularly grand in it. It had been full to the brim with sincere apologies and all as well filling him in on some of the news of his everyday and stuff about his most recent work. What had made him feel a bit too anxious in anticipation, though, had been a line that Jojo added near the end. Something about a big surprise. Of course, it was a bit too much of a stretch that that could mean… what Robert kind of thought (more like, wished) it could mean, and he knew it. But still, that didn’t make much to ease that feeling that was pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he felt kind of silly about it. Being so excited over something that was most likely not going to happen, was he even for real? He questioned himself over and over again since reading that letter the morning after he’d left the Joestar mansion days ago, and still did now as the three guests were led into the mansion by one of the butlers while another took their baggage to the designated rooms upstairs. The first butler then took them into the banquet hall, where their hosts were awaiting for them.

Even though this was not the first time Tattoo and Li visited the Joestar estate, that didn’t change much that feeling of inadequacy the three of them were always victims of whenever they visited. This place was so huge and imposing. Regardless of the kind nature of Jonathan and Erina, always making them feel welcome, it was near impossible for folks with much less fortunate backgrounds such as the three of them not to feel that way, like they were completely out of place. Never in their lives they would have imagined they would set foot into a majestic place like this unless they were raiding it...

The big double doors of the hall were pushed open by the butler guiding them through the mansion and he stepped aside, so the group could come in. The first thing Robert saw as he stepped into the room was Jonathan’s beautiful smile.

“Robert!” The younger man greeted, excited, waving his hand –manners and 100% proper and sober Victorian etiquette were still not his forte, huh– and rushed towards the newcomers. “You came! I was worried you wouldn’t!”

“There ‘s no way on Earth I’d ever let you down, Jonathan.” Robert took his hat off and offered a gentle smile of his own while secretly trying to hide the soft blush he felt was threatening to creep up to his cheeks at the sight of his favorite gentleman smiling so bright at him. The taller man then grabbed him by his shoulders in a gentle manner, showing just how excited he was to see him again after so long.

“I know, I know!! But still! I was just...worried, you know?” Jonathan rubbed his cheek a little before he loosened his grip and hugged the man instead. Something quite improper, especially between two men, but it was something that Speedwagon couldn't find any reasons to complain about. He returned the hug in a very similar manner, enjoying every second of it, unconsciously memorizing the smell of Jojo’s lotion mixed with his own flowery scent. A true delight to his sensitive nose. "I'm so happy that you're here." His voice was low as there was no need to raise it with how close they were from each other, Jonathan practically whispering those words into his ear. Robert felt his legs go a tad weak, but they didn't give in, mostly thanks to Jonathan’s strong but tender embrace. He knew Tattoo and Li were going to tease him on end about this later but, fuck it, he couldn't care less about that.

“And I am truly ‘appy t’ be ‘ere, you big sap.” He replied in a lighthearted way, adding that last bit in an attempt to play it cool and not completely give himself away, even though he was almost completely sure at this point that everyone in the room –save for the object of his affections, unfortunately– were well aware of the true nature of his feelings for Jonathan. The brunet finally pulled away from the hug and properly greeted Li and Tattoo as well, shaking hands with them and exchanging kind words and genuine smiles. Erina also came to greet them all, in a much more proper manner than her husband, but just as warm and kind as him. Those two were nothing at all like most other rich folks Speedwagon had ever met before.

“How’s little Jojo doin’ today?” Robert asked, his gaze falling down to Erina’s pregnant belly for a moment.

“Wonderfully!” She replied; her smile never fading away. “And quite excited, too. They have been kicking a lot today.”

“They are excited because they knew Uncle Speedwagon was coming today.” Jonathan added as he moved back to Erina’s side, draping an arm around her shoulders. That sweet smile of his in full display once more…

...And Robert couldn’t help the blush on his face. Not just at that beautiful sight, but at what Jonathan had just said.

“Uncle…?” He echoed, and the couple’s smiles grew wider and even warmer.

“That’s correct!” They both said almost in unison.

To think Erina and Jojo considered him good enough for such an important role in their child’s life… Lord, he felt so undeserving.

“I honestly don’t think I’m the most fit for the role, but I’ll ‘appily do my best t’ not disappoint any of you!” The smile gracing his features mirrored those on the couple’s faces in every possible way, showing just how touched he genuinely was. Having known Robert long before Jojo had come into his life, Li and Tattoo found it truly sweet to finally see him being this happy, and surrounded with so much love, even if not everything about it had been going the exact way their mate wished. They knew the kind of man he was underneath that tough and rough exterior he was very well known for in all of the slums, and knew how deserving he truly was of every single ounce of it. Both of them placed a hand on each of Speedwagon’s shoulders as a sign of that, smiling at him and at the Joestars as well, and the man returned the gesture with that genuine smile of his as well.

“We are so happy to hear you say that. Now, please, don’t stand there and come take a seat!” Erina added and walked over to the huge dining table. Jojo led them to it as well. Some of the maids had already come in and were already getting everything ready for the meal, bringing in the dishes for them all to enjoy.

“Hope you have a good appetite today!” Jojo exclaimed as he pulled the chairs out for their guests. “The staff worked hard on all this, so I hope the food is to your taste.” And he finally sat down as well once everyone was in their seats; the maids and butlers putting the many plates of hot food on the table before each one of them and getting everything ready for everyone to enjoy their meals. Once they all had finished their food, they all went outside and took a walk around the majestic gardens surrounding the mansion, enjoying the beautiful views and the still gentle breeze of the first month of Fall.

The reunion went down as smooth as expected so far: A shared high spirit, lots of fun and interesting stories about many different subjects shared by everyone, genuine laughter and smiles, incredibly tasty food (and many different dishes to sink their teeth into, too). A pleasant time they all deserved and had been looking forward to as well.

Low tea time then came, and they were all greeted in the tea room by a different part of the staff working at the mansion. Hot beverages, all sorts of delicious pastries, the perfect lighting. Everything was ready by the time they got there. Everyone took a seat and soon after, the tea was served.

“This ‘as been such a lovely day,” Robert finally said sometime later, visibly touched by the heartwarming gesture of the Joestar couple towards him and his old friends. It was hard to believe that, this exact day, one year ago, he had been spending the day in the streets, just wandering around aimlessly, killing time and causing trouble... “and I wanna thank you both for everythin’. I still don’t know what on Earth did I do so right t’ deserve you both in my life.”

“Just being yourself. That’s what you did.” Jonathan replied with that gentle smile of his aimed at the blond, who was sitting right beside him. Erina nodded. “I don’t think I’ve had the opportunity to say this before, but I think you already know it: You are one of the persons I admire the most. You are so very special, Robert. And I hope you haven't forgotten about the surprise I mentioned in the letter." Jonathan's words, as usual, didn't fail to paint the blond’s cheeks a sweet tone of pink that, hopefully, was not easy to notice. And, the reminder of the letter only served to make that blush last a little longer.

Jojo stood up and walked over to one of the cabinets in the room. From one of the drawers, he pulled something out, something he had previously put in there himself for this moment, and asked Robert to come over, which he did. Everyone's eyes followed them, curious as to what Jonathan had gotten him. Not even Erina knew, as Jonathan had insisted all the time that it was a surprise. Meanwhile, Robert was inwardly pleading for his heart to stop pounding so hard in his chest. Once he was before Jonathan, he was presented with a light-gray small box –though it could very well just be that anything looked small in Jonathan's hands–. It was a bit flat and there was a lavender ribbon on top of it. He nodded, encouraging Robert to open his present right away.

"I hope you like it." The nobleman added, expectant for the other's reaction, watching him open the box, revealing an elegant sterling silver pocket watch –a hunter-case one–, attached to a silver chain. The thing looked so expensive it felt so alien in Robert's hand.

"Jojo, you didn't–"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." He finished his sentence with a kind smile. "You deserve so much more than this, but I hope you like it nevertheless!"

"Are you kiddin' me? I love it!" He beamed. And he wasn’t lying. He did love it, but not because of how fancy and nice it looked. It was because it was a present from the man he loved so dearly. He could have gotten some cheap trinket from him and his reaction would have been entirely the same.

"I'm so happy to hear that! And there's one more thing. Take a look inside." His index finger pointing at the watch. Robert did as requested and carefully opened it. On the back of the lid there was a set of numbers engraved, written in beautiful cursive. It was… a date?

"Jonathan. This ‘s...?" Jonathan nodded.

"The date of the day we met for the first time." And Robert froze on the spot. Of course, there was the ‘embarrassing’ part attached to the memory –that of Tattoo, Li and him trying to gut Jonathan alive while the young man had been doing nothing but seeking for an antidote to save his Father’s life, something that the three ruffians still felt terrible about–, but there was also a unique feeling to it, as that had also been the day that this man had come into his life, ready to change everything in it for good: His views, his wrecked and reckless ways, his life style and the way he perceived life and the world around him, the way he perceived himself, showing him that he was worth something, showing him that there was so much more to life than what that little underworld in the slums had to offer. The day he had so fiercely fallen for this ‘rich boy’ that was nothing like the rest, the one who was a true gentleman in every possible way. The one that had captivated his heart like no other had and that Robert was absolutely convinced was the one and only love of his life.

The blond couldn’t find any words to say. He was genuinely speechless, with his gaze fixed on the engraving for a little longer as the memories and the swirl of emotions engulfed him whole. It was such a ‘small’ detail, but one that meant the world to him, as it showed and left no doubts about Robert’s importance in Jonathan’s life. The moment he raised his gaze, meeting Jojo’s, his eyes were visibly glassy, and that was something that didn’t escape Jonathan. He didn’t make any comments on it, though, figuring it would make Speedwagon feel uncomfortable and exposed so, instead, he pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy Birthday, Robert.” He said in a soft voice. Speedwagon leaned into the hug, wrapping his arms around Jojo’s larger frame.

“Thank you… Jojo…” He replied in a similar manner, trying his best to choke down his tears, and doing a fairly decent job at it. When the hug ended, they both went back to the table and enjoyed the rest of the evening along with the rest of their friends and family. Outside, the night had fallen over the vast Liverpool skies.

Ever since this celebration had been planned, it had been agreed by all of them that Robert, Li and Tattoo were staying over for a few days after that. There were plenty of guest rooms in the mansion, so having them over would definitely be no issue at all. Since they weren’t going back to London tonight, there was also no need to rush anything, and so conversations and all sorts of activities went on for a while longer than they usually would on a regular visit. Time went fast by, and it was getting really late. They were all tired after such a long and fun day, so everyone went to their respective bedrooms, ready to call it a day.

“Erina, dear.” Jojo called once they were alone in their room. Something seemed to be bothering him.

“Yes?”

“…It might just be me but, did you notice anything different in Robert later today?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it felt like…”

“Like something was off?” She looked at him; her soft hands rested on her belly as she remained sitting on the edge of their bed.

“Yes. Yes, something like that.” He said after a moment of pondering about it. “Do you know what it could possibly be? I don’t recall him mentioning any issues before or anything that could be bothering him.” He inquired, hoping she would know something he didn’t and could tell him about. Maybe the two of them had talked about something that could be troubling him during his previous visit?

Erina let out a soft sigh and lightly shook her head.

“Oh, Jojo.” She looked into her husband’s eyes. Even through the dim light from the oil lamp on the nightstand he could see that look she would always give him whenever he was missing something important that was a bit obvious. It wasn’t a condescending look at all. All the opposite, really. “You have not noticed it yet, have you?”

And her words threw him off. Completely.

“Notice...what?”

“I could tell you, but I think it would be best for you, and for Robert, that you find that answer out for yourself, dear.”

Jonathan continued staring at her; his thick brows knitted together. He was infinitely puzzled still. She stood up and walked towards him. She cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Look. I won’t mind if you want to go and talk with him. Knowing him, I’m sure he is going to be up for a while longer, and I’m convinced he will appreciate your company through the night.” Which was something both knew for sure. It was no secret that Speedwagon was a night owl, and him staying over at someone’s place probably wouldn’t change that the slightest. Jonathan nodded. He then kissed Erina in return before he left.

Meanwhile, a few doors down the hall, in his room, Robert was leaning against the door frame that led to the balcony. He had already taken his coat and waistcoat off, both of which he had left on the footboard of the four poster bed. The turmoil inside his head (and heart) had gotten considerably worse as hours had ticked away, so he had opted for making himself comfortable –as comfortable as one could in that condition– and take a breath of fresh air while, a bit ironically, having a smoke, hoping that would soothe him enough so he could get some sleep later that night. He lit a cigarette and stared outside, softly humming to a tune he had heard some time ago, when he visited the Caribbean. His room had quite a nice view of the gardens their whole group had walked through earlier. They looked so different under the moonlight, but still as beautiful as before. It was a really nice change from the urban landscapes he was so used to back in London. He remained like that for a moment, enjoying the chilly but gentle wind of Fall. His tie was undone, and his shirt was open, allowing that chilly wind to gently brush against the exposed skin of his scarred chest. He put the cigarette between his lips and slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers, producing the silver pocket watch Jonathan had given him earlier, idly fiddling with it and running his fingers over the smooth surface as he took a drag of his cigarette. His gaze was fixed on the timepiece now and he could see the way the moonlight shone so beautiful on it’s surface. His mind, suddenly, decided to go back to earlier that day, to that moment when Jonathan had hugged him for the second time, and he felt that rush of emotions strike him all over again.

“You’re such a bloody fool, Robert…” He whispered to himself. Being so madly in love with a nobleman. And not just that, but a married gentleman. His friend’s husband at that. And, while said friend was absolutely okay with those tender feelings he had for him, and even encouraged him to take the next step whenever he felt ready for it, if he ever did, he still felt so silly about it all. He had no leads that Jonathan was… well, like that. No leads or hints that he had somewhat of a taste for men, like an invert man such as Robert did. And not just that, but he was also scared to death of not only being rejected by the man he loved, but he was also scared of being seen by him as nothing but a disgusting pervert as well. The sole idea of Jonathan telling him that he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore was frightening and painful enough to make the former thug want to keep his mouth and heart shut as much as he could, as much as it hurt. He’d rather remain a close friend and be by his side always, until the very end, than risk losing him forever…

A soft knock on his room’s door echoed through the room, dragging him back to the present time.

“C’mon in.” Speedwagon raised his voice enough for the visitor to hear and slipped the watch back into his pocket. He looked over his shoulder when he heard the door open and then click shut a second later. Even in the darkness that was engulfing the room now that the oil lamps were off, he could still make out the huge silhouette of the Joestar heir walking towards him. The blond turned on his heels, failing to realize just how ‘improper’ he must have been looking at the time (etiquette wasn’t always his forte, especially with an upbringing like his and the fact that he was still a man from the worst part of the slums). “Oi, Jojo.” He greeted, raising his hand a little.

“H-Hey.” He said once he got to Speedwagon’s side, mirroring that gesture.

“I thought you were with Erina. ‘s somethin’ the matter?” He asked, genuinely curious, and even a tad worried.

“No, no. Everything is fine! I mean, not everything, but yes. Just...”

“Are you sure? ‘cause this ‘s definitely not like you.” His concern growing deeper. “Do you need t’ talk, perhaps?”

“Yeah, I guess...” His voice trailed off. He looked, and sounded, so lost for a moment. Robert had no clue what this was all about, but he was going to try his best to be of aid. “It’s about earlier…”

Oh…

“Yeah…? What ‘bout it?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that something was kind of, well, off with you…”

“...”

“Erina noticed it, too. I tried to ask her about it. She seems to know something, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. She said it would be best for us to talk.”

Robert couldn’t help a soft chuckle, exhaling a bit of smoke in the process.

“Don’t get me wrong for what I’m ‘bout t’ say, please, but that woman ‘s an absolute angel. I can truly see why you love ‘er so much.” He admitted as he looked away into the horizon once more. Jonathan smiled in response, finding no fails or lies in that whole statement about his sweet Erina. His gaze followed Robert’s and, after a moment of silence and even a little of hesitation, he tried again.

“So…? Something’s been bothering you…?” He asked cautiously, not wishing to upset Speedwagon in any possible way. The blond hesitated to respond, taking a couple seconds to think, and re-think, his answer. He suddenly felt cold, as if his blood had been drained from his body, and a chill ran down his spine as realization fell down on him. There was no turning back now, was it?

“...It ‘s not like there’s somethin’ botherin’ me per se… It s just… somethin’ else. Somethin’ that’s been goin’ on for quite a long time now and that I, shamefully, ‘aven’t had the ballocks t’ be frank ‘bout it.” He admitted, unconsciously taking another drag of his cigarette before putting it off on the ashtray that was sitting on top of the bureau by the door. Jonathan’s face was colored in concern after hearing those words. It had to be something quite undesirable if it had lasted for so long while also making Speedwagon want to keep his mouth shut on the matter all this time, he figured.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner about it?” His voice reflecting that same concern that was plastered all over his face. “I would have helped you out as soon as you told me!” There was a tinge of pain in Robert’s features, and the moonlight made sure Jonathan didn’t miss that as the shorter man turned to look at him.

“Haven’t you noticed it yet, Jojo...?” The brunet remained silent, trying to piece it all together.

“I…” He stammered. Robert gulped hard and locked eyes with him. It was now or never, right? Right.

“I love you.”

“What…?”

“You ‘eard me right!” He nearly shouted. “I love you, Jonathan…! I love you so damn much! And I always ‘ave ever since you came into my life all that time ago...” He said, trying to keep himself collected as much as he could. His fists were clenched into tight balls at his sides while hot tears threatened him, stinging his eyes. Jojo stared at him, wide eyed, and at a complete loss for words. “I’d been keepin’ that t' myself all this time ‘cause… ‘cause I was scared t’ death of losin’ you. I still am!” He took a deep breathe. It was still hard for Robert to conceive that a ruthless gang leader such as himself could be this vulnerable before someone else, but here he was, exposing himself once more, though in a completely open manner this time for a change, confessing all those feelings he had tried so hard to keep to himself. “I don’t expect you t’ return my feelings. Bloody ‘ell, I will even understand if you don’t wanna see my disgustin’ arse ever again, and I promise I will never show m’self ‘round ‘ere anymore! I just… I just… really ‘ad t’ let all this out somehow before it ate me alive whole...” The pain was almost tangible in his voice as he uttered all those words.

And, suddenly, all those signs Jonathan had seen countless times coming from him before made so much sense. So much more that he couldn’t help but feel so inept, and like the biggest fool around for being so painfully oblivious to it all while even Erina had noticed it so long ago but, also, for having forced himself to keep his own feelings towards this man before him locked away…

“I’m...sorry for disappointin’ you and not bein’ who you thought I was, Mister Joestar…” He spoke again, even shaking a little, and he lowered his eyes, bringing back the formalities now that his chances of being on the list of undesirable people in this household had increased exponentially...

...Or so he thought.

“What on Earth are you talking about!?” The younger male grabbed him by the shoulders, making him raise his head and look back into Jojo’s face. There was a glint of something in his eyes. Something that Speedwagon could not quite read at first but that seemed like… pain? He had no time to ponder too much about it as Jonathan immediately pulled him into yet another tight hug, though, this time he was holding on to him like his very life depended on it, yet careful not to crush him in the process. “There is no way you could ever disappoint me!!” He sounded hurt, and he legitimately was. “The only one I am disappointed with is myself for being so blind and not being able to return your feelings sooner…” He paused, trying to find the right words to voice what was going on through his mind. “...I think I’d known about it all for a bit. I just… didn’t say anything for that same reason: I was afraid of being wrong in my assumptions and losing you forever! And, also, Erina… I… I didn’t know how she would react to the news that I had a special fondness for you, a special fondness as intense as that I have for her, and I didn’t want to make her feel like I didn’t love her anymore, much less now that she is carrying our baby.” The brunet tightened the hug a little; his fingers gently digging into the fabric of Robert’s shirt as he finally opened up, his hot tears rolling down and soaking Robert’s shirt. There was nothing but absolute honesty in his every word, and Robert could easily notice that. “I was so confused because I love her so much, and never have stopped loving her either. At first I was not aware that it was possible to love two different persons in the same manner, and so fiercely, at the same time. It… It took me a while to figure that out on my own and, still, I decided to keep quiet about it because I didn’t know how to bring it up to her, and how to bring it up to you as well. I tried to convince myself that… all of this, all those signs you gave off… as well as everything I was feeling… that it was all in my head. Guess I only made a fool out of myself in the end, didn’t I?”

Robert pulled Jojo away just enough so they could make eye contact once more. It broke his heart to see his gentleman break down like this.

“Jojo... dear. Lord…” He struggled to find the right words to say and could feel his own tears finally rolling down his face. There was so much in what Jonathan had just said that he could relate to in his own way... “You ‘aven’t done anythin’ wrong! Besides… It 's also my fault that you didn’t know for sure just ‘ow much I’ve always loved you until now! And I’m really sorry ‘bout that… I really wish I ‘ad the guts t’ be open with you ‘bout that sooner instead of tryin’ t’ hide it all and pretend nothin’ else was goin’ on...” Both men, remained in silence for a moment, still close to each other. It was then that Jonathan spoke once more.

“I guess… that makes both of us a pair of fools…”

“The biggest of ‘em all, I’m afraid…” Both of them shared a soft laugh despite those tears still wetting their faces; their foreheads pressed together as they did. One of Jojo’s hands went up to tenderly cup Speedwagon’s chin with his thumb and index finger.

“Robert… May I…?”

“Goddamnit, Jojo…” Robert let out a soft huff and cupped Jonathan’s face in his hands; his little smile not fading away the slightest. “Just fuckin’ kiss me…!”

Jonathan tilted Robert’s face slightly to the side, allowing himself a better access. His other hand went to rest on the small of the blond’s back, and he finally pressed their lips together in a long awaited kiss that Robert gladly returned in the same loving manner, both of them pouring into it all those feelings they had been holding back for so long.

They remained in each other’s arms for a little longer after the kiss ended, refusing to let go just like that.

“Would you… stay with me tonight? I mean, only if you think Erina will be alrigh’ with that. I wouldn’t wanna get on ‘er bad side ever.” Robert whispered as he rested his head on Jonathan’s chest. He could hear the soft rumble that was his chuckle. They both knew very well that Erina could be quite scary when she wished to.

“That will be completely alright.” He said with a full smile on his face. “We should go inside, though. It’s getting colder, and I don’t want you to catch a cold or worse!”

“This is nothin’ compared t’ what Ogre Street ‘as me used to, darlin’.”

“Yeah, I suppose so, but... About that, I know that you along with Tattoo and Li have turned down the offer of moving in with us countless times already, but I must insist once more.”

“I told you, dear, we don’t wanna be a nuisance t’ either of you.”

“But you wouldn’t be! Besides… I want. No, I need Erina and you, my two loves, by my side.” Speedwagon let out yet another soft chuckle.

“Blimey... You’re really the biggest daisy I’ve ever met, Jonathan.” He said fondly, “But I will gladly take you up on that this time. Little Jojo might need their Uncle ‘round when they arrive, and I’m sure Erina might appreciate some friendly company as well. And, much like yourself...” He stood on his tiptoes, gently bringing Jojo’s face down by his chin a little. “...I also need my one true love by my side.” His voice soft, sealing those words with yet another kiss under the pale moonlight.

Final notes: This story took so long for me to get it done from start to end, but it's finally here!

This is, I think, the first time I actually write something for the lovely jonaeri/jonawagon ot3~ :'D I also loved writing those bits with Robert and Erina together. They were super fun, and I also loved the idea of Robert happily telling her about the gay codes from that time and just kind of getting her into that little secret world, not only because Erina is the ultimate ally, but also, because, given the taboos in Victorian England, it's pretty much a given that Robert usually had to keep a lot of things from most people, sometimes friends included, so he really appreciates those time whenever he's allowed to be himself and is able to share some of that with others. Needless to say how much I love writing jonawagon and putting them in sweet and cozy scenes~

I can honestly say I'm pleased with how this story turned out, but I would definitely love to hear your thoughts on it!

Feedback, likes, reblogs and everything else (shares outside of Tumblr and Ao3, too) are always encouraged and highly appreciated!!

Thanks for reading!

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

part 2

warning: this was a mistake and i’m in the grapes

this starts right at Facilities vs AH. link to first post

let’s fuck some shit up babEY

oh what the fuck they’re playing a prerecorded video

last year was a fuckin doozy, nobody forget that

“legends of the under achiever” i didn’t know someone wrote my biography

why do i hear geoff screaming “FIVE FUCKIN FOUR” in my head, like in the legends of the hidden temple minecraft videos

jeremy looks. so dead inside on this fine november evening

ryan buzzing while they’re trying to explain the rules

my video quality went down so much that i thought i was watching someone playing roblox for a second

ryan “salty mother fucker” haywood has made a lovely appearance. he’s my favorite

michael and lindsay looking so domestic makes me so happy,, they’re my parents

someone donated under the name “ryan goes feral” uh??? yeah? you say that like it’s a bad thing??

oH FUCK MICHAEL GO DRIVE WIN PLEASE

jeremy HAS BROKEN OUT THE GLASSES SHIT’S SERIOUS

NO THEY’RE LOSING GOD DAMMIT

ʳʸᵃⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ᵠᵘᶦᵉᵗˡʸ: ʰᵉˡᵖ

JEREMY IT’S TIME TO TEST OUT THAT NONEXISTENT GAG REFLEX AND SWALLOW THE OPPONENT’S CONTROLLER

oh nvm they’re winning again lmao

OH FUCK thEYRE LOSING

oh nvm

OH FUCK

oh nvm they unplugged his contoller lol

OH FUCKING TH EY LOST MICHAEL JONES MY HEART IS BROKEN

the amount of people watching has gone up from 32k to 40k in the past fifteen minutes

michael “hurry up you dumb cunts” jones

“oh don’t worry about destroying our cabinet, it’s essentially matchsticks”

“how are you feeling john? are you ready for this?” “MM M M Mmm mM”

TEAM NICE DYNAMITE IS NEXT AND IM READY FOR PERMANENTLY RINGING EARS FROM ALL THE LEET DONATIONS

oH god here we go

“hopefully they haven’t been saving them all day” oh honey. you’ve got a big storm coming

if xavier slaps gavin i think gav might go up in a puff of smoke

i did the math, they went up 45k+ within five minutes of team nice dynamite showing up on stream

GAVIN AND MICHAEL ARE GOING TO DIE

THERE’S GONNA BE A MOONBALL SIZED HOLE IN GAVIN’S CHEST

ryan and lindsay both donating a grand during this segment... so good

the day gavin free successfully gets a tattoo is the day i drop dead

lindsay saying she didn’t want the TND tattoo on michael but she agreed because gav is michael’s boi :((( 

i’m too sleep deprived for this i might cry

oh god michael’s punching the floor

i’m too sober for this

EIGHTY EIGHT LEET DONATIONS IN TWENTY MINUTES HOLY FUCJKIGN SHIT YOU GUYS ARE GONNA BE THROWING MOONBALLS FOR FUCKIN SIX YEARS

on a sentimental note- i love how much collective love we have for gav and michael,, they deserve it all

milk boarded has some not-so-great connotations attached to it

gavin “the bullshit bitch” free

a mark nutt reference?? in my 2019 extra life????

this just in: sarah is going to obliterate gavin

oh. oh my god. that was the sound of a wet fish smacking a wall

why is jeremy the liquor goblin walking like a crab that has a bird attached to its back??? see: flapping arms

that beer and milk concoction... gag

“drink that milk yard”

“YOU GOT MY TOES MILKY”

no. nO MICHAEL NO YOUR INTESTINES NOO

michael “the milk’s in my brain” jones

“stop pouring it on people!” “iT’S HARD DICKHEAD”

lindsay is now. taking a milk shower

*caiti brings a small roll of paper towels* *gavin gently places a single paper towel on the massive puddle of milk*

no LINDSAY NO THINK OF THE CHILDREN

gavin: this has gotten way out of hand. she’s... she’s swimming in an inch of milk! everyone knows you should swim in at least two!!

the fajita seasoning will solve everythinG everyone calm down

fiona: yeah this is my first extra life. jack: and what were you expecting? fiona: this. exactly this.

ah yes. the bunny suits have arrived and michael is ready to tackle gavin

aaaand here comes the AH fanfic. it can only get worse from here so buckle up fuckos

“holy fuckeroni”

“re-reanimated trevor”

michael is so fucking smashed and god i wish that was me

“cum-ductor”

fiona “this is a white man” nova

“bone-ating” *leet donation* *leet donation* 

“ready set blow” made me genuinely bust a lung laughing

aaaand michael’s licking the floor which is to be expected

jeremy “i’m gonna actually harm you” dooley

IF ONE MORE PERSON BRINGS UP RANCH IM GOING TO WALK TO AUSTIN AND PROJECTILE VOMIT ON THE OFF TOPIC SET

no JEREMY NO YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE I THOUGHT YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS GET OFF THE F  L O O R

don’t get close ups on jeremy’s tongue. don’t do that to me. i don’t want nightmares

“fuck root” “let’s just fucking fuck”

1 2 3 CONSENT

michael has gone full gerkie

alfredo’s look when larry is reading the part about trevor choking him is how i feel about everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes

almost 300k in less than an hour 

fiona saying “i don’t want this” overlaying michael humping a trash can

“TAKE THE TACO CHAD”

aaaand michael’s in the trash can

nO why is there a triangle is this a POETRY READING ALL OF A SUDDEN

oh thank god it’s over

OH FUCK THERE’S A N EPILOGUE

aaand trevor’s dead again. poor treyco

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS EVERYONE PUT A CUP IN YOUR PANTS

people singing along... what goes on

why am i downloading this fuckin song asap

jeremy turning his phone flashlight on and waving it like he’s at a concert god dammit i love these people so much

those are my BOYS

oh my gosh they’re still singing the song. why is my heart so happy from this i need to get slapped

“come on you’ve never been waterboarded before gavin?”

everyone standing in a circle shining their flashlights at gavin

someone surprise them and instead of a moonball just yeet a whole gallon of milk at them

actually, on second thought, no

OH god GavIN Is GOING to Die 

gavin “i forgot to breathe” free

several milk explosions

gavin “my brain is cold” free

michael has milk dripping from his ears

i’m about to pass out i don’t know what’s happening

michael is in the grapes right now man

how many moonballs? oh, only 107. :)

i’m not writing this part- you guys have to watch the moonball segment yourself, if you didn’t watch it live!

team nice dynamite finishes up with over 300k!! holy shit, that’s so cool! this community is awesome

werewolf is up next!

xavier is such a gentleman can we keep him

alfredo: *chooses to kill miles* trevor in the audience: *silently freaking out*

xavier is about ruin another man on stream

miles has no self preservation instinct

barbara is now smelling fiona

this just in: i love alfredo and 100% would have done the same thing

trevor running up to film alfredo getting smacked. what an icon

alfredo SCREAMING oh my god i felt it in my soul

the high-five of the backs in solidarity of intense pain

miles choosing alfredo is so fucking good

and also, i feel so bad 

his heart might shoot out of his asshole this time guys

oh NOOO HE’s so bruised :(((( fredo nooo :((

oh my god it’s gotten to the usual point in the stream where you start to question whether someone is going to die this time

rip blaine but at least i think he can take the hit

he can but ouch it still hurts me 

barbara “i’m participating in the game” dunkleman

yo miles might win this game

the crowd when someone needs to shoot barb: TREVOR TREVOR TREVOR! trevor, with the strength of a thousand suns: N O

people are now chanting about shooting an unprotected trevor. the man already died once this stream god dammit

alfredo is about to throw hands for fiona

that’s a big F in the chat for miles, but his loss is well deserved

xavier’s hands could serve as a defibrillator

alfredo showed jeremy his chest and jeremy shied away as if he was looking at the sun

 --- i’m taking another break to finish an assignment---

i’m barely alive and it’s ready set show time 

oh god please no more shock collars

i’m so fucking tiiiiredd please take thge res t of this post  wigth  a grain of salt lbecasue i can hardly type at this ponitn 

“do you want to control the shock collars” “will there be repercussions” “no” “fuck yeah i’ll do it then”

“smother the children. steal the baby” “DONT STEAL THE BABY TREVOR”

lunging forward “s c a r e  t h e  b a b y” “OKAY I’M PASSING THIS ONE”

“you can’t bake popcorn????” jeremy hits the floor

alec and matt clearly = dream team

oh thasnk god the shock collars are on their arms now i was stressed out for chris earlier

this stream does not promote recreational nyquil usage 

i don’t even know how to explain the pure insanity of what ready set show has become

alec has become this whole segment

i would write more but i have no thoughts because my brain doesn’t work

larry “makes people fuck other people besides their wife” insert last name that my brain can’t come up with

anyways. marbles

oh. no marbles

i’ve blacked out idk what happened during backwardz compatible

i mean i was awake but does that really mean anything at this point

SPPOKU PSOOKY SPPOKKKY SPOOOKY !!! FUCL YEAH 

cole is so good during this segment

oh so many 1337s right away 

the real scariest thing during the segment: being genuine

oH my god the scream being pitched up. i have fucking dogs outside of my house now

i don’t fuck w/ ghosts no thank you

“aba-jail” wow if u guys weren’t gonna get haunted before you will now

okay i’m about to pass out i have to take a nap

oH fucking I SLEPT until thirty minutes before the en d  fuck

conclusion: this community is incredible and raised an unimaginable amount of money for charity. the fact that rooster teeth does this every year is awesome, and honestly, it makes me feel hopeful in times when things aren’t so great. so yeah! for the kids & stuff 

[randomly-random-jen]

Uncalled For Actions (11/?)

A Girl Genius fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part). He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.  

[Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Part 12 ]

Part 11

"That is the most important question," Seffie said excitedly.

"Yes, Seffie, it really is," Gil slurred.

They all stared at him, waiting for the big reveal, but Gil only slumped over, his mouth slightly ajar as he started to snore. Tarvek pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation then smacked Gil's leg hard enough to jolt him awake.

Gil shot upright, blinking around the room before finally squinting at Tarvek.

Barkley stepped between them before any punches were thrown. "Master Gilgamesh, you were about to tell us who poisoned you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Barkley looked at the other children then nodded. "We won't know unless you tell us, correct?"

Gil fell back on the bed again. "When in the den of thieves-"

"Wait," Tarvek said, "are you saying we did this to you?"

"Why would Father poison the Baron's apprentice?" asked Anevka, brow furrowed. "Politically, it would be suicide--the Baron would lock Balan's Gap down hard until they found the culprit. I've seen it happen in other towns for less important people."

Gil rolled to the side, shoulders shaking, and for a moment, Tarvek thought he was going to be sick all over the bed, but then he sat up, giggling.

"No, not you," he told Anevka with that cheesy grin he seemed to think was charming. "You're too nice to poison me." His head whipped around to Tarvek, the smile replaced with a sneer. "Now your brother, on the other hand--he's a duplicitous, treacherous snake so I'd expect that from him."

Tarvek's blood instantly boiled. "Now wait a minute," he shouted, taking two steps towards the bed before both Anevka and Barkley blocked his way. "Why would I poison you?"

"Please, Your Highness," Barkley whispered, "calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down--I've just been accused of a crime in my own house. I will not be calm."

"Tarvek," Anevka said, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. "You did beat him up a few hours ago so it's not too far a stretch-"

"You're taking his side?" His voice came out way too high and screechy. How could she take his side? 

The hurt must have shown all over his face because she dropped her hand and took a step back, but Tarvek didn't want to hear her apologies anymore. He backed out of the room, ignoring her calls then stormed past the Baron's other assistants and out the door of the suite.

People darted out of his path until he suddenly realized there was no one left in the halls. Tarvek glanced around, taking a second to orient himself before turning back the way he'd come, still shaking with anger and betrayal.

That's all Holzfäller was good for--betrayal. If he wasn't the one betraying, he was setting someone else up to do it for him.

"My own sister! I can't believe it." He slumped against the wall. "Of course, I can believe it--she's always up to something." With that thought, he slid to the floor feeling like he'd been run over by a train. An emotional time-bomb of a train set in motion by Holzfäller.

He should have just left him at the table--let him get sick all over Seffie or Cousin Pearl. Should have let him make a big scene in front of the Baron so he'd see exactly the kind of low-brow trash he'd taken pity on with this apprentice charade.

That would have been the smart thing to do, but no, he had to be a nice guy and try to help the idiot when it became obvious he couldn't help himself anymore.

And what do I get in return? Accused of poisoning him at my own table. "The nerve!"

Tarvek sniffed then wiped at his nose, realizing then that he'd been crying. With a sound of disgust, he hopped to his feet and scrubbed his face clean on his sleeve.

He needed to get a grip before someone saw him breaking down over something so stupid as an unfounded accusation by a nobody like Holzfäller. If he cried every time someone said something bad about him, he'd be swimming in his own tears daily.

There was a small voice in the back of his brain that kept whispering that this was different, though, but it wasn't--not in Tarvek's opinion.

"Why would I poison him? It's ridiculous--what do I have to gain?" But that's not the real question, the voice said, now is it? Tarvek frowned at his dirty, scuffed boots, the realization settling heavy on his shoulders.

"No, it really isn't," he mumbled.

* * *

Gil woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and regretting it a moment later when colors popped in his vision while the room swayed dangerously. He fell back with a groan that sounded like a freight train running through his skull.

"I'm gonna be sick," he muttered, a pressure welling from his gut into this chest.

"In the bucket, please," someone said from the other side of the room.

He lifted himself enough to see Barkley sitting on a chair, reading a newspaper in a robe and slippers shaped like bunnies.

"What?" he managed to slur just as the contents of his stomach launched upwards, and he rolled to the edge of the bed where he found a half-full bucket and managed to keep most of the mess inside. When he finished throwing up, he sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

After a moment, Barkley snapped his newspaper shut and got up with a yawn. "I will tell the Baron you are awake--you have twenty minutes to be ready, mind you."

Gil stared blurrily at the ceiling, trying to figure out what Barkley was talking about because his entire head felt wrapped in cotton-wool and filled with molasses so thick even his thoughts were bogged down. He shook his head, trying to clear the haze, but it persisted, and the shaking did nothing for his roiling stomach.

There was one thing he knew, though, if the Baron said he had to be ready in twenty minutes then he better be ready in twenty minutes. Or as ready as he could be, he thought as he dashed into the en suite before he hurled on the carpet.

A few minutes later, he was splashing cold water on his face and taking deep, slow breaths hoping to calm his frazzled nerves. He needed to get a grip--figure out what happened, how to fix it, and be ready in fifteen minutes. Ready for what he wasn't sure yet but he knew it was important.

There was a small spark of sense somewhere in his addled brain that said this was important. Outside the room, he heard the Baron's angry voice getting closer.

He was in so much trouble. Trouble--right! "I'm in trouble," he said to his reflection that stared back with dark circles under his eyes and a busted lip. "This is all Tarvek's fault. That weasel--he drugged me"

His heart rate calmed some once he began to make sense of the garbled memories bouncing around his head. That crazy miniature Smoke Knight of his and the darts--that's why he'd been acting weird. Why he almost let so many things slip.

Things could have gone so much worse if his father hadn't taught him all of those tricks on self-control and resisting tortures. He'd thought his father insane at teaching a ten-year-old to resist torture, but he'd been right after all. Gil wasn't sure what that said about any of them, but at the moment, he was just grateful or he'd be in even more trouble.

With his previous night somewhat sorted out, he quickly washed up and got dressed, finishing the last buttons as the door slammed open to an agitated Barkley followed by the Baron.

"I told him you weren't feeling well, Master Gilgamesh," Barkley said, the words ending with a soft whine.

"You're ill?" his father asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Gil stood up straight despite his sore back and head and shook his head. "Must have been the fish--I feel fine now."

His father studied him longer, probably waiting for him to break into a cold sweat and tell the truth like most people do under his scrutiny, but those were other lessons he'd already subjected Gil to. They stared at each for a long moment until the Baron was satisfied with Gil's apparent truthfulness or just didn't care enough to question them further.

"Let's go then," he said to Gil as he left the room without waiting to see if Gil would follow.

They arrived early to the morning meeting--the conference room was filled with only empty chairs as servants set out pitchers of water at each table.

Gil headed straight for a coffee engine in the corner, eyes nearly bugging out at the complicated yet elegant design as he waited for the server to explain how it worked. The thoughts started as a whisper in the back fo his head, becoming louder and more insistent as the information grew. His heart sped up, breath caught in his chest, heat burned his skin.

He needed to touch it--to take it apart and see how it really worked. Time slowed down the longer he considered the contraption, and it was almost as if he could see right through the steel and glass right down to the molecules that made up each substance--maybe even down to the atoms themselves.

He reached towards what was obviously a misconnected set of regulator tubes when the server smacked his hand away then looked terrified for what she'd just done while Gil just simply stared back at her.

"Ow," was all he could manage to say as the brightness of the engine faded back to reality.

"I'm so sorry," the server whispered, nearly in tears, "it's just it gets really hot."

Gil blinked at her then at the machine and back to her.

The girl--who couldn't be much older than Gil himself was still babbling her apology when an older man in a starched uniform came over. "Is there a problem Arabeth?"

Her lip started to tremble, twisting Gil's stomach into a knot--he remembered that kind of fear; the kind that came from knowing your place in the world meant nothing and your disappearance would mean even less.

"No, no problem," he said before Arabeth could answer.

"She just kindly pointed out the dangers of the machine before I could injure myself." He pointed at his bruised face. "I do have a tendency." He laughed dryly, but the man didn't find him at all funny while Arabeth just bit her lip so hard Gil was afraid she might draw blood.

The man huffed when Gil continued to only smile pleasantly, and he could find no other reason to berate his subordinate. "Very well, then; no dawdling Arabeth."

Gil let out a long breath once the man was gone and leaned against the table--was everyone in this castle so tense all of the time? Not even a military vessel like Castle Wulfenbach was on high alert all of the time.

"Thank you," Arabeth said to her shoes.

Gil shrugged. "I should be thanking you; you just saved me from yet more humiliation at my own hands. I can use all the help I can get."

She finally glanced up at him so he shot her a genuine smile because she was awfully pretty, and he felt connected to her in some small way.

Arabeth blushed so bright and so fast it nearly blinded Gil, and he found himself laughing until she turned away quickly, shoulders slumped then handed him his coffee without looking up.

Crap--he really was bad with girls.

He tried to get her attention again, to apologize for being a complete bonehead, to try to make that connection again, but his father stepped between them to retrieve his own cup of coffee.

"I hope you are planning to be on your best behavior this morning--no more of this tomfoolery with Prince Sturmvoraus."

Gil's mouth tightened into a thin line at the mention of Tarvek and the day before like he could forget even after being drugged which was something he was not going to mention to his father ever.

"The apprentice position is a learning experience more than anything and one of the most important lessons you must learn in politics is dealing with people you find absolutely reprehensible."

Well, he knew Tarvek well enough; Gil only nodded and sipped his coffee.

"Leading is about more than control-"

"Leading isn't about control at all," Gil said suddenly, surprising them both. He groaned inwardly--obviously, he was still feeling the effects of the drugs because never in a million years would he interrupt his father like that and definitely not with something so obviously confrontational.

His father sipped his coffee a moment, eyebrow raised then motioned for Gil to follow him to their seats at the empty head table. "Care to elaborate on your statement?"

Gil swallowed the hot liquid, scalding his throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," he said quickly, feeling his face burn as hot as the coffee.

"No," his father said, "please continue--I'd like to hear your opinion on leadership."

"You would?" Gil could never be sure if his father was serious or testing him in some way that would come back to bite him in the ass or humiliate him or both--usually both.

His father nodded. "Of course."

Gil took a deep breath feeling suddenly very exposed and also five-years-old and terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. "Well," he finally said, spinning his nearly empty cup between his hands, “a 'leader' by definition doesn't control the people under him. Leaders lead--they guide through their actions and intellect. You're not really much of a leader if the only way you can get anything done is by iron-clad control of wills. That's not a leader--that's a dictator."

He forced his hands to stop shaking and slowly looked up at his father--it wasn't often that he contradicted anything the man said, and he was more than a little scared to find out what would happen, but his father only nodded.

"A very astute observation although there are times when speeches and persuasion can go only so far."

"I suppose that's true," Gil said glumly.

His father squeezed his shoulder. "But a good leader knows when to lead and when to dictate for the greater good, and if you are good at the former than the latter is rarely needed."

A swell of pride Gil had never experienced before nearly overwhelmed his senses as he fought to keep his head on straight and his expression neutral lest his father know how much his approval meant.

[ Part 12 ]

[ohcaptaintarthister]

What's Mine and When Is It Yours?

I watched the first season of Game of Thrones along with everyone else. It wasn’t the kind of show you watched to chill back and turn off your brain. The intrigue, the violence, the insane plot twists and the general unpredictability kept me on the edge of my seat. Alas, with grad school giving me a final beatdown and plus a most unexpected job offer, I forgot about the show and spent more time at the desk than on any comfortable surface. It wasn’t until 2015 when there was finally time to catch up, from season two to four.

You know how it is. A binge lasts for only so long. In less than a week, I was done. Boobed out (hi, Season 2). Done with everything else an adult should be busy with–no deadlines because everything was turned in early, no more school for the moment. There was a sort-of beginning that surprisingly became a romance. I eagerly waited for the next season of Game of Thrones.

And found out it was gonna premiere later than usual.

I was a show watcher before reading the books. My introduction to Brienne of Tarth was by way of Gwendoline Christie trouncing Loras Tyrell. Her lines were few in that episode but the character had already made an impression. I looked up the character and ate more junk food than any human should eat in a year as Brienne sparred with Jaime Lannister, beating his ass and basically calling him scum right to his face. When his hand paid the price for defending her honor, my allegiance swung not only towards the Kingslayer but even more with Brienne. I would stop breathing every time they were together onscreen, wondering if this was when they would–you guessed it–kiss.

Having caught up and not having much to do (I was oddly productive in 2015), there was no choice but to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I cruised online for anything about JB. That’s when I discovered fan fiction.

Aside from my day job, I also write. Newspapers, magazines, books–the only place where I haven’t been published was online. It never entered my mind to write fan fiction. No self-respecting PUBLISHED author would waste her time reading and writing fan fiction. No one. At least that’s what I thought until I read my first JB fan fiction, Beast and The Beast by SigilBroken.

It was fucking awesome!

It was Modern AU. Jaime an athlete with a hand injury. Brienne, a competitive swimmer. I loved every word of it. I was floored with how the author captured the relationship that at that time, I’ve only seen on TV. I was so gobsmacked that I read her other JB works, like In This Light and Honor Thy Regard. I discovered other JB fanfic writers like RoseHeart, Ellaria, Just A Girl and Lady In Red. To this day, they remain my favorite writers and wish so fervently they will write again.

Because of them, I had a new appreciation and respect for fan fiction. Yes, fan fiction is derivative, it builds on a canon world but also deviates from it too. It is also original even when the characters are not yours. The works of the authors I mentioned above told me that fan fiction was a different ball game but also the same with all writing: it’s hard work. Very hard work. Fan fiction is strangely freeing, in my experience but it is very hard work!

I lurked around AO3 reading whatever JB fanfic struck me. When I couldn’t find any more interesting stories, I plucked up the courage to write my first JB fan fiction, Loving Harder and More. I was anxious, excited, terrified. It my first time to publish online and not under my real name. How will my story fare against the others I’ve read and loved? Later, I realized I shouldn’t compare myself to SigilBroken and company.

Hand on heart, they really are the best writers in the fandom. Their stories taught me how to dive into the characters but also be able to extrapolate sensibly. I still look to their stories for inspiration, unbothered that no matter how much I write, I never be as good. What mattered was I was writing and challenging myself.

In my fan fics, Brienne has been a professor, a black ops agent, hairstylist, masseuse, bodyguard to royalty. She has is always loved and appreciated, but also went through the nightmare of a sexual assault and an emotionally abusive marriage. Jaime has been a scientist, a devoted husband and loving dad, a creative director, actor. He is loved and has a full life with Brienne despite having gone through several levels of hell too.

What strings my work together is the smut. I’m proud of that. And I’m glad when people comment on its quality because it’s hard to write! It really is.

Which finally (fucking finally!) brings me to the point of this long-ass (one of SeleneU’s favorite words) piece.

Imitation is the best form of flattery–to an extent. I see no harm when someone compliments me on my shoes and goes out to buy the same pair. It’s hilarious and make plans to wear the same pair with the person. But see, in this kind of imitation, at least the other person makes the effort to go to the store and buy the shoes. He or she also has the right to get those fucking shoes.

It’s not imitation at all when scenes and even plots from stories I worked hard on are copied word-for-word. It might be buried under all the other paragraphs of another’s work but I find it. And it is always distressing because someone is getting praise over something that’s blatantly and even proudly copied from mine. That’s not right. There’s no effort at all no, you SHOULDN’T FUCKING DO IT.

It’s not the kudos and hits that concern me. It’s the copying. Word-for-word. It’s not even done subtly. How hard is it to come up with your own plot? Writing is difficult but it’s never a justification to copy someone else’s work. It’s like taking a dagger in the back when someone comments on my work and then…takes the thing she precisely commented on and presents it as her own! Holy hell. That takes a huge pair of really entitled balls!

How do you get out of bed? Don’t they snag or graze across the ground when you walk? Don’t they fucking hurt?

I write for myself and am thankful when people love my stories enough to leave encouragement and kudos. I’m happy whenever I finish another one and still get excited after posting it, waiting for when it gets its first comment. And people who love them, in a way the stories are theirs too, isn’t? Theirs to read and read, to download and read again. But it never becomes theirs that they have the right to copy and post it as their own.

It’s fan fiction so there’s no way to nail these cheating asses by any legal means. But as someone who would rather believe that decency still triumphs in the era of Trump, if you are of right mind, you don’t have to be told it’s not nice to copy other people’s work. Right?

If you like an author’s work so much, gestures of appreciation that do not involve copying will go a long, long way–possibly as far as Sothoryos. Say your work was inspired by a favorite author. Or at least give a shoutout. If you want to build on a story by a different author, please ask for her permission. But never, never, absolutely never copy another’s work.

I realize how easy it is to copy but it is not going to help the current situation of the fanfic in the JB fandom. Personal opinion, but there’s only one way of peeling a fucking banana and what’s been done is the fruit and the skin have been diced and spliced to death but there’s no denying it’s still the same fucking banana. That’s the kind of stories crowding AO3 quite often (I’m being conservative).

Nowadays, there’s hardly an author who tries to do something different and writes so well, except for isavedlatin (A Star Within the Mere), SeleneU (Pieces of You and A Story Without End), LuxEvergreen (A Walk with Frost and Fire), ShirleyAnn66 (Jaime Lannister Investigations). Off the top of my head, they’re the writers I follow and whose work are original and a pleasure to read. I’m reading some new fan fics but it’s still too early to tell how they’ll turn out. They are promising, that I can say.

I suppose prompts can help with creativity. It depends on the writer. But from what I’ve been seeing, a strong dependence on them will be a hindrance to the good writer you can become. Yes, they’re fun but you’re writing a story that’s not really what you want to tell. I don’t know. Its not helping the writers I used to follow and are now stuck in prompt rut. Still, despite prompts, there’s copying…of my work. Nearly word-for-word.

Which really sucks.

When someone says, “Hey, this person writes like you!” I see come similarities but the story is still different from mine. That’s nice. But when I’m told, “I swear this was your story until I saw the name and it wasn’t,” I check and holy shit, it really reads like I wrote it because it’s practically a scene from one of my stories. Word-for-fucking-word!

Sad, isn’t it? Never thought I’d rather be slammed for writing a threesome story of Jaime, Brienne and Tormund. Being copied is a lot worse.

I’ve calmed down a bit since making the discovery but my resolve to limit access to my fan fics remains just as strong. It’s hard, you know. Aside from it being a slow process, this step means my work won’t appear in public unless one logs in on AO3. On the heels of this, I realized that people who like my work aren’t part of any group. That tells me I don’t need to be a part of anything to be read–and it’s stupendous knowing that people legitimately like what I write instead of being liked just because I’m part of a group.

With the audience most definitely fewer, I’m encouraged more than ever to write. It means less snark and hateful comments when I experiment. It may also lessen the possibility of being copied. My fan fics are my babies and I make the time to write them as well as I can. If restricting access makes me a better writer, I’m still taking it! I will never pass up any chance to improve just as long as I never run out of my OWN ideas and keep writing. Because I the end, that’s all that matters, right?

Also, if you claim to love the story of Jaime and Brienne, don’t you think they deserve original stories? I don’t believe they’ll end up together in the books but in fan fiction they have, over and over. And as fans, it’s our responsibility to explore the different ways we can bring them there–through our own imagination and creativity.

[perfectdayforsomemeihem]

An Honest Woman Chapter Two - A Meihem fluff fanfic

Mei-Ling Zhou x Junkrat (Jamison Fawkes) - Meihem fanfiction

Summary: Mei finds herself in a predicament with Junkrat, and how he might take it scares her. How will her teammates react? How is she supposed to move on from this?

This is mainly a fluff story. It may contain some mild language, and some possible adult content.

by Miki - PerfectDayForSomeMeihem/MikiSneaki

DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION

You can also find this work in the link below. Chapters are posted there first.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10424193/chapters/23074260

Chapter Two

Manic laughter followed a large explosion on the practice range, but this certainly didn’t take Mako out of his thoughts or the book he was reading.

He was so used to Jamison’s obnoxious antics that whenever his lanky employer started babbling on about whatever he was enthralled with he would absent mindedly answer with a grunt or a nod.

Mako could have cared less most of the time, but today he knew something was up.

When Dr. Ziegler first told Mei she had to go into quarantine Jamison had only become a little bit more irritating than normal. He constantly complained to the older Junker that he missed holding his soft and squishy snowflake. He would go on and on about her trance inducing eyes, her intoxicating vanilla aroma, or the adorable way she pronounced certain words differently because of her accent. It was only when Jamison would start talking about personal things like how he wanted nothing more than to shove his face into her pillow-like breasts that Mako would tell him frankly to shut up.

But as the past few weeks went by Jamison’s lonesome whining started to lessen until it was replaced by an uncharacteristic silence. The younger Junker seemed lost in his thoughts, and the only time Mako would hear him is when he mumbled to himself incoherently. Things like, “Won’t happen, ain’t gonna happen,” or “She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine.”

These little “mantras” seemed to calm Jamison, but as of yesterday they stopped working.

He figured it had something to do with Mei’s visit to Jamison that same day. She came by to tell him that she was going in for a blood test that Dr. Ziegler requested, and she would have the results the next day. Dr. Ziegler had a few ideas about what Mei’s illness could be, but until she had the test results to back it up she wouldn’t disclose any information. Mei herself had no idea what could be wrong with her, and simply not having knowledge about her own body terrified the poor woman. Mako, knowing his partner, knew that Jamison was also scared. The thought that he could lose his precious Snowflake and do nothing about it drove him even more insane than he normal was.

Unable to stand the waiting Jamison decided that his time was better spent blowing off steam and blowing up practice bots. No doubt Torbjörn wouldn’t appreciate having to fix all the broken bots by the end of this wait, but Jamison certainly didn’t care.

The lanky Junker had been on the range since the night before seemingly unaffected by the lack of sleep. Not that he could sleep. The night was a perfectly horrible mixture of stress, and stress induced phantom pains in his missing limbs.

He tossed and turned in his bed finding no solace from his hurt. Trying to take his mind off of the phantom pains only brought him back to the thought of losing Mei, and trying not to think about losing Mei only made the stress and therefore the physical pain worse.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and with a frustrated growl he tossed his covers, attached his prosthetic limbs, and got up from the bed. The clamoring noise he made as he grabbed his harness, launcher, and extra ammo had woken Mako from his own sleep.

The elder Junker sat up catching his partner just as got to the doorway.

Jamison heard him stir, but only turned his head slightly to regard him.

“I’m goin’ out to blow shit up. Don’t wait up.”

For hours Jamison took his frustrations out on bot after bot, receiving only little satisfaction as each concussion ripped the metal apart like paper. Even if the satisfaction was fleeting he still preferred whatever form of distraction he could take.

He took hardly took notice when Mako made his way out to watch over his partner, and despite how much he ached for her he remained oblivious when Mei made her own way out to the range.

Mako heard the familiar, soft footsteps as she neared, and turned to see if it actually was her.

Mei smiled and waved to the elder Junker, and although she couldn’t see it behind his mask he smiled back.

“Nǐ hǎo, Mako. Is this spot taken?” She asked motioning towards the empty spot on the bench where he sat.

He moved over slightly and motioned for her to sit before replying, “Sure. I ain’t hoggin’ it.”

Mei paused for a moment giving Mako a wry smile.

“Hogging it? Did you really just make that pun?” She giggled.

Mako simply shrugged and chuckled softly.

After taking her spot next to Mako Mei began to watch Jamison intently as he continued his wreckage, and Mako took this as an opportunity to look the woman over. Something was different about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Her face seemed to be a little fuller, her skin seemed to have a soft glow to it, and she kept yawning despite the fact that she had been sleeping the past few days away.

Finally Mako broke the silence. “So are ya dyin’ or what?”

Mei perked up in surprise, and nervously shook her head at the Junker.

“N-No. I’m fine.”

“Yer not sick?”

Mei frowned. “Well, yes and no. You see, that’s actually why I came out here. I need to talk to Jamie about my… condition.”

Mako keyed in on the word “condition”, and it was at that moment he put two and two together and understood what was happening to her. He had been aware of the symptoms she exhibited and felt that they were somehow familiar, but they didn’t make sense until she called it that.

He smirked under his mask, “Condition, huh? And Junkrat’s got a part in it?”

She blushed. “Yea, you could say that.”

He used that as a confirmation of his suspicions, and let out an amused chuckle. This earned him a curious look from the climatologist. “What’s so funny?”

He was about to answer when they heard Jamison’s shrill voice shout, “Mei?!” from across the range.

They both looked out and saw that Jamison had noticed them, Mei especially. She could see his face light up at the sight of her, but she also noticed the worry lines on his forehead. She could tell that he had been under stress for quite some time now, and it broke her heart knowing she was the cause of that stress.

The young Junker carelessly dropped his launcher, unstrapped his grenade harness, and threw them both aside near a demolished practice bot before starting a mad scuttle towards the two.

Mei smiled and prepped herself to be taken into a tight hug from her boyfriend, but was quickly caught off guard by Mako commenting, “I guess I should say “congratulations”.”

His voice was raspy and low, but she could tell by the tone that he was smirking under that mask.

Her face flushed, as she rushed to respond.

“W-What?! Wait, you know?! How-?!”

Mako responded with a deep belly laugh finding absolute amusement in watching Mei become flustered.

She had no time to say anything else as Jamison closed the distance between them. His long arms immediately found their place wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground. He took in the smell of her hair, and the feel of her soft skin against his own with great fervor as if he had been kept from her for years.

“Mei, my Mei! I’ve been worryin’ about ya all night!” He admitted as he put her back down.

Despite still being ruffled by Mako’s remark Mei gave her attention to Jamison placing small kisses on his cheek before responding, “I know, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to cause you stress like this.”

Suddenly he perked up, and gently pushed Mei away enough so he could look her in the eyes.

“So the blood test thingy, what happened with that? What’d Angel Doc say? Are ya sick? Infected? What’s gonna happen to ya? Are ya gonna be alright?” Jamison rambled out his questions until Mei stopped him, placing a finger to his lips.

“Jamie, calm down. I’m not sick.”

“Yer not? But then what was with all the hurlin’ and the sleepin’? Are ya sure she didn’t botch the test?”

Mei’s heart began to race as she realized how soon she was going to have to tell him about the results… About the baby…

She took a deep breath, and took Jamison’s hand in her own looking him in the eyes.

“No, she didn’t botch it. I might not be sick, but test did find something… I just don’t know how you’re going to react to it.”

He gave her a toothy grin as a sign of assurance. “How I’m gonna react? Luv, I couldn’t give two shits as long as yer not hurt or dyin’!”

Mei frowned. “Jamison, it’s not that simple.”

His face dropped in disappointment as he sighed; the sheer thought that it couldn’t be over and done with unnerved him, but he supposed that he could tough it out a little longer.

For her.

“Alright, so what is it then?”

Suddenly it was the moment of truth, and Mei felt nowhere near prepared for it. To make matters worse she realized that not only was Jamison staring at her, but Mako as well. Having both of the Junkers at full attention shot her nerves, as if she was nothing more than a preteen school girl confessing a crush. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and having to deal with it again made her stomach turn in knots.

“I-I…”

“… Yea?” Jamison urged.

“It’s… It’s just that…”

It was like her body had frozen, and all she was left with was the cacophony of voices in her head reminding her just how bad her situation could turn out.

“What if he doesn’t want it? He might try to make me get rid of it! Why would he want it? But what if he does want it? Could he ever be happy with a child? What if he blames me for ruining his life? What if he blames the baby? This is going to ruin his life! He’s going to hate me, and he’ll never want to see me again! I don’t even know what I’ll do with it if he does decide to leave me! Should I keep it? Would it even have a chance of happiness if I raise it alone? What do I do? What do I do?!”

The tension was killing Jamison as Mei just stood there in silence. He turned to Mako with a questioning look, but the elder Junker simply shrugged.

The wait finally made him impatient enough that he rolled his eyes, stood up straight, and gestured harshly for her to speak up.

“Earth to Mei! Come on, and spit it out! Why are ya makin’ me wait like this?!”

He immediately regretted how harsh his tone sounded as it seemed to scare Mei right out of her thoughts. Her eyes had widened in surprise, and- were those tears? Was she crying?!

This was very unusual for her, as Jamison felt that Mei had always been a tough lil’ sheila. He certainly never figured that he could make her cry.

Mei on the other hand was very much aware of how quickly she became emotional, and cursed her body for already hitting her with the hormonal mood swings. Normally if Jamison, or anyone for that matter, were to raise their voice at her she’d meet it with an equally as strong or stronger tone and scold them for being so rude. Now that her hormones were already taking over she felt weak and vulnerable, and she couldn’t stand it.

The tears began to flow as Mei put her head in her hands and cried, “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I just- I can’t-!” Her shoulders shook with each sob causing Jamison to panic as he attempted to comfort her.

“W-Wait, wait, wait! Don’t cry! I-I didn’t mean to make ya cry! Please, Mei…”

Jamison looked back to Mako with the facial expression of “HELP ME” practically slapped across his face.

Mako rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. He understood how scared she was, but he felt that maybe she was over thinking this whole thing a little too much.

He decided that he might as well help the girl, and frankly told Jamison, “Rat, the girl is pregnant.”

Mei froze with the last sob caught in her throat. She was almost thankful that Mako said it for her, but now she was mere seconds from facing the harsh reaction Jamison would have. She braced herself for the worst, but it never came.

Instead Jamison turned to Mako, puffed up, and swung his fist into the elder Junker’s arm.

“Roadie, what the hell is yer problem?! Why would ya say that to her?! Just because the lady is a bit on the heavier side doesn’t mean she up the duff! Don’t be a bastard!”

Jamison tensed for a moment, and looked to Mei with a sheepish grin. “Uh, no offense, Snowflake!”

Mako sighed, picked up his book, and turned to leave. He figured that now that the news was out there Mei could do the rest, so it would be best to leave the couple alone for a bit. Before leaving he faced Mei and gave her a small nod that, despite not being able to read any of his facial cues, she could tell was meant to be encouraging.

He started his walk back to the base, but his partner certainly wasn’t done with him.

“Oi! Get yer arse back here, and apologize to the lil’ bit! Have some fuckin’ manners!”

“Jamie!” Mei held her arm out to stop him. The younger Junker looked to her confused as Mako made his way back inside leaving them alone.

“Mei, he just called ya pregnant out of nowhere! Don’t ya feel insulted by that?!”

He studied her face, and found that there was a small, amused smile. It confused Jamison because it was almost as if she wasn’t offended by the statement at all, as if it were-

Then it dawned on him.

He gawked at her for a second before asking with an almost unsettling quiet tone, “W-Wait… Mei, yer actually pregnant?”

Mei had been looking away, but after a small sigh to build what little confidence she had left she made eye contact with him. A small, but still clearly scared smile appeared on her face.

“Yes, I am.”

Jamison stood there for a moment, his face was stuck in its surprised expression. He felt his knees go weak and his chest became heavy. He compared the feeling to the first time he had a bomb go off on him unexpectedly, and it threw him against a hard, brick wall. Before his legs could give out he managed to quickly sit himself down on the bench where Mako had been sitting.

Mei braced herself once again for whatever kind of negative reaction Jamie might have, and once again it never came.

“I didn’t think it was possible… The Crisis, the radiation… I figured I’d been shootin’ blanks this whole time.”

She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t freaking out, and sat down next to him cautiously placing a hand on his lap. “I thought I was sterile too. After so many years in cryostasis the doctors told me that being barren might have been a result of it, but there weren’t any other cases of people who had gone through overly extended periods of cryostasis. I suppose I was naive to go by guesses.”

For a moment they stayed silent. Mei looked off into the distance at the ocean just beyond the range and watched it glimmer with the reflections of the afternoon sun. It soothed and distracted her for a moment before Jamison spoke up.

“What’s the folder about? Is it from the Doc?" 

Mei perked up suddenly remembering that she had the folder, picked it up from its spot on the bench, and opened it. She glanced at the two forms, and sighed. "Yes, it is. This base doesn’t have the right supplements or equipment to properly aid in a developing pregnancy, and so this form is a request for those supplies.”

He nodded. “And the other one?”

All the air suddenly left Mei’s lungs as she recalled the other form. Jamison saw her tense up the moment he mentioned, and this made him all the more curious.

“The other form… It’s for if I decide terminate the pregnancy.”

Jamison froze hearing the word.

“Terminate? Ya mean get rid of it?” It surprised Mei when he asked the question because she could hear a small lilt in his voice.

She turned to him, and was again surprised seeing the concerned, and almost pained look he was giving her.

“Yes. If I decide to.”

“I don’t want ya to do that!”

Her breath hitched at how quickly he answered, and she couldn’t help but become a little teary eyed. “Y-You don’t?”

He grabbed her by the arms, and looked her straight in the eyes.  "No! I mean I never thought I would have kids, but that doesn’t mean I’m not okay with having one!”

Jamison didn’t know how to take it when Mei’s eyes started to well up once again. She clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs as she collapsed against his chest. 

“Did I scare her again?… Maybe she didn’t want it?” He thought to himself.  He sighed before taking her into his arms, stroking her hair gently.

“But what if you come to resent me?" 

The question surprised Jamison. "Resent ya? Why the hell would I resent ya?!”

Mei sat up and wiped her eyes as she looked at Jamison. Her voice still trembled, and it seemed like the tears could come back at any moment. “I don’t want you to feel trapped into being a father! I don’t want to do that to you! I didn’t know if you wanted a baby, and it’s so unexpected I-”

“Mei,” Jamison shushed her by reaching out and cupping his cold mechanical hand to her cheek, “I’m already okay with it. My life has been full of the unexpected, and I’ve always been ready for it. This is gonna be no different.”

“… Are you sure?" 

He nodded. "Yea… What do ya wanna do? Are ya gonna keep it?" 

She looked down at her belly for a moment as she thought. It was going to be tough raising a child, and she would always worry about whether or not Jamison would still be okay… But he wanted it. That she could clearly see…

Then what did she want?…

She took a deep breath. 

"Jamison… Before I was frozen I had a plan for my life; get married, have a child or two, and then raise them in our beautiful world. But before I could do any of that I had to try to save our world. I let my career take control over a great portion of my life, and I felt proud of the progress I made. I thought I had time, but…”

Jamison could hear her voice waver, and despite trying to hold herself together her doe brown eyes still had tears threatening​ to spill over. There was clearly something causing her pain, but she was trying to remain strong.

“I lost everyone I loved… My family, my friends, my allies… I woke up to a dead world, and I was all alone. Then Winston recalled Overwatch, found me, and I finally got back at least some of my old friends. Then I made more friends, and I met you, and the loneliness faded away.”

She looked straight into Jamison’s amber eyes with the tears now furiously swelling from her own, and wrapped her arms around her belly protectively. “But there are still so many chances with my family I lost just because I didn’t think to live in their moment! I understand that this is also your child, and that means you have a say in the matter, but I don’t want to lose this chance too! I want to have this baby!”

By the end of her thoughts Mei could barely hold herself together. She let some of the tears fall, but Jamison was quick to wipe her tears away letting his hands rest on her cheeks. She looked up at him; there was a huge grin on his face that seemed to suggest he was full of pride.

“Well then we’re havin’ a baby, Mei." 

Jamison’s smiles were notoriously infectious, and Mei found herself smiling softly back at him. Despite the fact that she was crying the tears now seemed to be that of joy. "You mean it?”

Jamison’s grin turned playful as he grabbed Mei by the thighs, and lifted her up onto his lap. “Ya bet yer beautiful ass I do! We’re gonna have the cutest lil’ ankle biter anyone has ever seen! You and me, Snow Princess!”

Mei began to giggle as she wiped her remaining tears away. Jamison was always the best at making her smile.

“An ankle biter, Jamie?”

“Yea! You know; tot, rug rat, tyke, kiddo. A baby!”

“I know what it means, it’s just that it’s such a you thing to say. You’re going to be such a strange father.”

“Ahh, but see, Snowball, yer the one crazy enough to have my baby. I thought ya were supposed to be the sane one between the two of us!”

Mei leaned in and kissed his jawline before being tempted into trailing kisses down his neck. “Am I? What’s so crazy about it?" 

She could feel his heart begin beat faster as he gave a low, sultry growl in response. Then in one swift motion Jamison grabbed her by the waist, flipped over and pinned her down against the bench. His tall form loomed over Mei as he took her wrist into his hand and began a mixture of kisses and bites down her arm.

"Well, luv, he’s gonna be a little fireball of energy of he’s anything like me. Think ya can handle that?”

Jamison’s eyes burned with the same energy he spoke of. Their pure amber color stared into Mei’s own doe brown eyes for only moment, but that moment was long a enough to light a small fire in her belly.

As his lips made it to her neck she could already feel the passionate shiver that made her back arch. She bit her lip trying to get a hold of herself. 

Smiling deviously she responded, “I’m able to handle you, aren’t I?”

 ｡｡｡｡｡

 “You have got to be joking with me, Angela! What makes you think this is a good idea?!”

The doctor gave an exasperated sigh in response to Jack’s outburst. For a moment she looked to Winston, but the ape was pretending to be busy by skimming through a large file on his desk. She figured he probably agreed with Jack, but having to face heated confrontations wasn’t his thing. 

Because Winston, Ana and Jack were the highest in command Dr. Ziegler had a responsibility to inform them about the conditions of their agents, and Mei’s pregnancy was certainly something she had to inform them about. 

She had gone to see Ana first, and the elder woman took the news very well. The two agreed that if Mei decided to keep the baby that they would be at her side to help her throughout the pregnancy. 

Winston and Jack, however, had reservations about the whole situation. Jack was especially upset, as Mei meant a great deal to him. 

He came to know her when he became Commander of Overwatch. He even recalled interviewing her for the position she took in Antarctica. She was a young, ambitious woman that had a dream of making the world a better place. That dream clicked with him, and they immediately had chemistry. 

Jack admired Mei’s spirit, and her sense of positivity in unfavorable situations. She was always there for him even when the rest of his teammates, politicians and world leaders, and even the civilians he was trying to protect seemed to be against him. 

Then Overwatch fell. 

Jack felt as if he failed his country. He failed to save the world like he promised. Shortly after he failed to save Mei as everyone thought that Antarctica had been lost. 

When Jack found out that Mei was actually alive he was overjoyed, and quickly ran to be by her side as she recovered. He was happy to have his old friend back. 

Jack would never admit it, but for a long time he had feelings for Mei. As of now she was more of a little sister to him, but when he was younger he had always secretly hoped Mei would reciprocate his feelings back. 

That was before MacReady. 

Angela rubbed at her forehead, sighing before responding to the old soldier. “It’s not a matter of whether or not it’s a good idea, Morrison. I’m just telling you what might happen. Besides we can’t do anything about it, not that we should have the right to anyway. Mei is her own woman, and this is her decision.”

“I know that, dammit, but out of all the people in the world it had to be the Rat? For God’s sake I thought she was smarter than that!" 

It was known to everyone including the Junker himself; Jack didn’t like Junkrat in the slightest bit. He felt the Australian was nothing but a low life punk that didn’t deserve someone like Mei. It astonished him that she was still together with him after two years, but it blew his mind learning that she was now carrying that idiot’s kid. 

”“Smarter than that?” That’s rather insulting to Mei, don’t you think?“ Angela folded her arms as she gave Jack a glare of disapproval. 

For a moment Jack seemed to want to argue about it further, but instead he took a deep breath and stood from his chair.

"Forget I said that. I’ll talk to her myself later. Thank you for informing us about this, Angela.”

The doctor seemed a little insulted about being dismissed, but she figured that there wasn’t much else she could do at this point. 

Before she left she looked to Jack one more time and said, “Please don’t say anything you might regret, Jack. If she still means anything to you.”

[terriblevocaloidshit]

Mod Mew Reads! “Don’t Trust Anyone, Not Even Yourself” (PART ONE)

Hihi, guys, and welcome back to Mod Mew Reads! And it only took eight months! Today, we’re gonna be reading something special. It’s gonna be big, it’s gonna be huge, and it’s gonna be personal. Why? Because today, we’re looking at the first three chapters of a fanfiction. 

A fanfiction that I wrote.

That’s right! Today we’re looking at Chapters 1 and 2 of Forbidden Magnetism, my GakuKai fanfiction I wrote three years ago! Is it as bad as I’m making it out to be? Well, let’s not stall any longer. Let’s dive in HEAD FIRST!

Kaito and Gakupo both have new girlfriends, they both love them so much. However, when they meet each other in a practice studio, an attraction that shouldn't be forms between the two. How long can this magnetism last before they are caught? Rated M for later chapters containing smut. Yaoi, boy on boy, KaitoxGakupo. UPDATED FROM MY TUMBLR WITH CORRECT SPELLING.

For a little context, I based this entire fanfic off of this video. The video is five years old and the creator has not updated in three years, but just watching it brings back memories. Hot tip for high school me; don’t make a name for yourself critiquing fanfic and then write a shitty one yourself. Anyways, enough stalling. 

Fate is a bitch.

I still think this is my best opening line of anything ever.

This is the conclusion Gakupo came to after the events that happened. First, he had finally asked Luka out, and, to his suprise, said yes.

Oi, past me, have you heard of this hot new tool called SpellCheck? “Surprise” still gives me trouble, but good lord.

However, he couldn't kiss her, not at the school. Luka had told him her best friend, Miku, also got a boyfriend not too long ago. He had decided to stay after in the school's expansive practice school, to write her a song.

Why was fate a bitch?

Because as soon as he stepped in, his eyes fell on a beautiful person.

He knew immediately who the person was. It was Kaito. He was part of the 'Big Five', the most popular kids at the high school. The most popular of them all was Kaito's new girlfriend, Hatsune Miku. If you were associated with them in any way, you were considered 'popular', or at the very least, 'known'.

The ‘Big Five’ in my mind were Miku, Luka, Rin, Len, and Gumi, if I’m remembering correctly.

Kaito was 16, but he looked around 20. He was tall, with dark blue hair. He always wore his scarf, no matter what.

OH YEAH I FORGOT I MADE THE CHARACTERS TEENS. Spoilers, but they have sex in later chapters, so I wrote underage smut when I myself was underage. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

I know age of consent laws are very iffy, and the AoC in my state is 16 years old, but to me the AoC always will be 18.

He was beautiful.

And staring right at Gakupo.

The events that followed were a blur in his mind. He remembered walking towards Kaito, and the next thing they knew, they were kissing furiously, unable to stop.

Fun fact, the inspiration for this scene was a seen in Brokeback Mountain.

What had lead up to this? 

Well, first off a thirsty 15 year old girl who had an unfortunate habit of fetishizing gay men, but that’s a story for another day.

Gakupo remembered talking to him, remembered him being asked to practice a duet with Kaito that he was going to do with Miku. His memory fogs up, then clears up around the time he hit the wall while making out with Kaito. They didn't want to break the contact, not even to breath, as of they feared that if they did, they could never kiss each other again. Their tongues were fighting for dominance, but it was becoming painfully clear that Gakupo was the dominate one.

The tall one isn’t always the dominate one open up your eyes sheeple.

Finally, the need for air overpowered their want for each other. 

There’s this funny little thing called your nose, try breathing through that.

They broke apart, gasping for air. Gakupo could feel that just the kissing had made them both half hard. He wanted to continue, so badly. However, the sudden realizations that both of them had girlfriends hit him like a bullet train.

YEAH NO SHIT ASSHOLE!!

He pushed himself off of Kaito, and, without another word, left the studio.

What school has a professional recording studio? All I had at my high school was a shitty photo room we used as a storage closet.

If the two boys had been smarter, that meeting would have been just a little fling, and nothing more. 

YOU STILL CHEATED ON YOUR GIRLFRIENDS YOU FUCKSUCKS!

However, nobody could even begin to guess how far out of control this situation would get. And it all started thanks to a magnetism that shouldn't have been felt.

Kabosoi hi ga kokoro no hashi ni tomoru Itsu no ma ni ka moehirogaru netsujou

... What? Once a weeb always a weeb.

—

(AN: So, yeah. That 's the first chapter. More to come! By the way, if this seems like déjà vu, it's because I've posted this on my tumblr [URL HAS SINCE CHANGED]. I've fixed the spelling errors in this version. Enjoy!)

Sure you did.

And that’s it for chapter one! Sadly, I’m a masochist who loves inflicting pain on myself and we still have chapter two to read through tonight, so let’s fuckin do that shit.

(AN: Alright, still going! On tumblr, I mentioned that I didn't want to write smut. Well, I will soon, I promise you. Enjoy chapter two!)

Here’s a tip for anyone writing smut; let your inhibitions go. otherwise, it’ll be so obvious that you’re uncomfortable.

—-

It had been a couple of days since their 'meeting', and both boys had become a bit restless, unable to shake the memory of each other out of their minds. They couldn't really see each other during the day, and they felt as if they were slowly going insane. They hoped their girlfriends didn't notice.

They did.

Oh, they noticed that you two fucking CHEATED ON THEM huh?!

Luka decided to keep silent about the situation, and not inquire Gakupo. After all, if the problem was truly bothering him, he would've told her by now. She chalked it up to nerves.

Kids, if you’re having relationship troubles, just talk it out with the person, it’ll be so much better in the long run.

Miku, on the other hand, was the talkative type. 

Speakin of which, if this goes up on time, happy 10th birthday, Miku!

She expressed her emotions through many words. Including her concern over Kaito.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Miku asked one day between classes. She needed to know. Otherwise, it would drive her nuts trying to figure it out for herself.

Kaito smiled sweetly at her. "It's nothing, Miku," he lied. He was a performer. He could fake any emotion at the drop of a hat. And no one could see he was faking.

No one, that is, except Miku.

I want to re-write this but like, not have the guys cheat on the girls??? Polyamory, it’s a thing.

"Don't lie to me, Kaito," Miku said sternly. "I won't be mad. I promise." Her puppy dog eyes seem to be staring right into Kaito's soul.

No, trust me, you’ll be pissed.

"I'm just nervous. You're my first real girlfriend. I don't want to mess this up."

I actually ship KaiMeiko more so LMAO @ past me.

Miku grinned. "Was that all? Well, that's a relief! I thought it was something seriously bad. I'll try not to make you nervous."

Kaito was relieved that she believed him. There were truth to his words; Miku was his first girlfriend, and he didn't want to screw up too badly. However, in his mind, making out with your girlfriend's best friend's boyfriend (try saying that three times) qualified as 'screwing up', and was in the subcategory of 'screwing up pretty damn badly'. 

JESUS YOU FUCKIN THINK!!!

The warning bell rang, and Miku gave him a quick kiss goodbye, before rushing to her classroom.

Kaito always felt a spark when he kissed Miku. He always felt like it was right, like she was the one.

But no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he had felt that same spark during that meeting with Gakupo.

See, this is something that I liked; Kaito having feelings for both Miku and Gakupo was super interesting to me, and I want to expand on it one day, but maybe in a format that’s... well, less shit.

Also, looking back, this might’ve been me working through the fact that I’m bisexual...

Because of their concern, the girl decided a double date would set everyone at ease. They planned it out, and didn't tell the boys about it until the day of. The boys didn't have any choice but to say yes.

For the girl, the date went just as planned. The park they chose was close enough so everyone could walk there and back, yet secluded enough for them to enjoy the day in peace. They had a nice day, and things felt right.

For the boys, it was a totally different story. Every time they saw the other's girlfriend kiss them, they wanted to say "No, he's mine." But they knew they couldn't. It was as if the girls were trying to make them envious. Envious of a love that they wanted to share with each other.

After the date had ended, and both girl went home, the boys arrived at Gakupo's house. They decided to make a promise: whenever they could, they would meet up at one of their houses, and leave when dawn came around. No one would know except them. It was the perfect plan. As soon as they agreed, they began kissing.

Hey past me, if you actually took time to develop scenes instead of acting like you’re Sonic The Hedgehog and speeding through them, maybe your writing wouldn’t be as shit.

Of course, anyone with half of a brain could see this promise was idiotic and flawed in so many ways.

No, really? I can’t see how cheating on your s/o with their best friend’s s/o is a bad idea, not at all!

—

(AN: The next chapter is just going to kind of be a filler. I'd still read it, but hey, it's just gonna be a filler. Don't kill me. Thanks!)

A lot of these chapters were filler, don’t lie to yourself.

Overall reaction:

Me @ my past self CATCH THESE FISTS.

Oh god oh god that was so bad. Maybe if I snark all of it, we can all heal together. I could see where I was going, I really could, but GOD it’s so bad.

And to all the fucking obvious cheating going on?

Well, thank y’all for reading, and I’ll see you next game!

~ Mod Mew 

*Who’s currently cringing oh god why the hell did I think that was okay at all*

[miobambiino]

Hold On Back (Before Stepping Forward)

Gift fic for one of my favourite fanfic authors @musicalluna! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 

"I'm holding you to this, Wilson."

Clint's quip only served to deliver himself a considerably sized handful of snow from Natasha and a long-suffering sigh from Rhodey, who was largely consumed in a startlingly orange SHIELD-issue puffer jacket he'd picked up before everything went to hell on the jet.

Clint had his arm swung round Sam's shoulder, Steve on his other side, helping the injured man trek through the snow.

"Gee thanks, Barton - hey, next time, I won't step in to shove this goon out the way a hail of fire. You'd be cool with that, right man?" Sam shot back without much heat, gesturing toward Steve who was supporting most of Sam's weight on his side. Not that it was particularly strenuous for him, being a super soldier and all.

"'M'not a goon," Steve mumbled through a barely concealed smirk, "I could've handled it jus' fine."

It was supposed to be a straight-forward operation: get in, retrieve the data from the hydra outpost on the Winter Soldier project, and get back out. Sure, they hadn't been cocky about it, they prepared well and took the necessary precautions; what they hadn't counted on, however, were the agents to be armed with extra-terrestrial weaponry. Tony had marked it up to being modified Chitari weaponry. Apparently not even S.H.I.E.L.D had the scope to track down every piece that went missing from the Battle of New York - alien weaponry tended to sell fast and at insane prices on the black market.

The mission had gone as expected up until Hydra pulled the big guns out, literally. Hydra had concentrated their efforts to strike-team alpha - Steve, Bucky, and Sam. Since the loss of their asset, Hydra have been particularly keen on getting their hands back on a super soldier, or two. Sam had only just managed to swoop down to push Steve out of the way of a blast that would surely have immobilised him for the rest of the operation - only in doing so did he crush his left arm under his own and Steve's weight at an unnatural angle.

Hydra weren't incompetent, they knew how to launch an attack. Agents had hounded on each division of the team like a pack of ravenous dogs. By now, they knew what to expect from the Avengers, and were merciless with their approach. Rhodey and Tony had been disabled by an intense EMP developed for their suits especially, delivering excruciating electrical shocks through them, weighed down by motionless tonnes of metal. Sam had a clean break to his arm, and Clint wheezed with each step he took. Possible broken ribs, Steve had thought - praying it wasn't a punctured lung too. Himself and Bucky weren't badly off, though both exhausted enough that the trek in the middle of knee-deep snow was taking its toll. Besides, neither of them had particularly fond memories of the ice.

After hastily retrieving the data they had come for, they withdrew to the quinjet. The jet wasn't much better off than they were, and in the mist of the battle, they hadn't noticed a one piece of critical information.

There was a stowaway onboard.

"Fall back!" Steve hollered which holding Sam to his side, who had taken on a sickly grey tone to his skin. The break was bad, and Sam was only dimly aware of the situation going on around him.

Steve had his back, though. I'm gonna be okay.

Natasha and Clint turned on their heel every so often on their sprint back to the jet, firing minimal but fatal shots to their attackers who were starting to get desperate. Usually, Hydra wanted to keep most of them alive; Avengers made for spectacular bargaining chips - or so they assumed, since it wasn't like they'd ever managed to hold on to one very long (Bucky's time as the Winter Solider doesn't count).

Bucky was waiting for them at the bay doors, watching his teammates' backs as they drew nearer to the jet, using a sniper-rifle to pick out hydra agents who were getting too close for comfort. Clint and Natasha eventually joined him, Nat starting up the engine ready for a hasty retreat.

"Colonel! Can you manage?" Steve had yelled over his shoulder as he neared the bay doors with Sam. Rhodey and Tony were a few short paces behind, both armed but weighed down by the armour they hadn't been able to scramble out of in time.

"Worry about yourself, Rogers!" He shot back with gritted teeth; though the prosthetics wrapped around his legs allowed him to move his legs again, it wasn't exactly easy sailing running through snow while under fire.

They all reached the bay doors, Tony and Steve scrambling on as it began lifting off the ground - they'd wanted to get Sam on first, Rhodey heaving him up from inside the jet. Steve hauled himself up with a grimace, automatically reaching for the scruff of Tony's undersuit and yanking him the rest of the way up unceremoniously too.

That earned him a steely glare from Tony, who shrugged off Steve's arm and stood up just as the bay doors firmly closed behind them with a small hiss.

"I'm capable of managing myself, thanks." Tony breathed out as he brushed past Steve towards the cockpit where Nat was driving the jet forward. Steve watched as the smaller man sauntered off and hefted himself into the co-pilot seat, tapping in co-ordinated for the nearest landing zone occupied by friendlies. Steve huffed out a barely suppressed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose firmly, pursing his lips tightly together.

"Didn't say you were, Stark." He said, mostly to himself. Since the ordeal with the accords, the team had shoddily come back together for 'the greater-good', as out by Agent Hill. Hydra may have crawled back into the shadows they had come from, but they were certainly no-less of a threat than they had been before. If anything, their recent losses to Cap and his team made them itching to strike back, harder and more efficiently. Steve was so tired of fighting them, a bone-deep kind of tired that permanently was etched into his features.

Cut off one head, two more shall grow in its place.

A stifled groan escaping Sam's lips drew his head out of the back of his mind - somewhere he was venturing far too often these days, and he came to his side.

"Hey listen man, I know I fucked up back there, I didn’t pan it all the way through. It really could of gone better-"

"Don't- just don't put this on yourself, Sam" Steve cut in, "the op was going to hell before you were down, we-"

This time it was Sam that cut him off, "I don't regret doing it, hell, I know it was going to shit before I went and broke my damn arm, but still, I held you and Buck back. Pro'ly would've gone better if I landed right but," Sam hissed as Steve wrapped up his injured arm, but carried on a beat later, seemingly ignoring what was bound to be an apology from Steve, "but, like I said, I'm not going to be sorry for saving your ass - again."

That earned a snort from Steve, who finished up wrapping his arm when Clint plonked himself down on the bench opposite Sam. The archer tsked as he adjusted his quiver, loosening it up off his shoulder, shaking his head slowly.

"Can't take this guy anywhere," he drawled playfully. Sam eyed him dubiously, a quirk playing on the corner of his mouth. "See, if you landed on your own two feet instead of - you know - your fuckin' face, we might've had a slightly smoother exit back there."

Clint was clearly joking as an effort to ease the sense guilt he and Steve both knew Sam was harbouring. He's saved Steve and probably actually given them a great chance of getting out alive - two super-soldiers is better than one, after all. Though, Sam had felt particularly useless while he was consumed in agony and had to rely on Steve to keep his head on straight while they made their escape.

"C'mon Sam, don't flatter yourself, you aren't all that hard to carry you know" Steve smiled at his friend, who returned the expression albeit slightly twisted in pain. "And he landed in his arm, not his face, Clint."

"Huh, why's it look all funny like that then?" Clint asked, feigning genuine curiosity. Sam merely rolled his eyes, nonchalantly taking his right combat boot off to throw at the archer's head.

"Violence is not key" Nat's voice rang from the front of the jet, not taking her eyes off the windscreen for a moment while she steered them away from any immediate danger.

They hydra outpost was desolate and practically impossible to reach on foot. Out in the wilderness of Norway, it had been hard enough locating the outpost which - like most of hydra's bases - was underground. The landscape was covered in a thick layer of snow, making the mountains in the distance barely visible through the snowfall which was beginning to pick up at a reasonably worrying pace.

"We're low on fuel, Tony, is there anywhere we can set down in range or do I just land us in the next clearing?" Natasha's face was set with grim determination. She was the same after every mission, only tending to her own injuries until they were definitely out of the fray; not that she ever let on to anyone she was hurting. That had been one of the first things trained out of her - showing weakness.

Tony huffed in frustration, and smacked the dash fruitlessly when the systems wouldn't cooperate properly. This was his tech, damn it! It should be fully operational no matter the weather - snow storm be damned.

"Nada I'm afraid," Natasha tossed a glance his way and a frown made its way between her brows.

"'Nada?' Seriously?" Tony just nodded in response, glancing back with a tight-lipped smile when Rhodey appeared over their shoulders.

"God, don't pull that face, it's not near as assuring as you think it is." Rhodey laughed softly, then directed his attention to Nat.

"Systems aren't fully functional, though you've probably figured that out for yourself." The man said as he shuffled into a seat behind them, leaning forward into their space from his seat. "Must've become compromised by stray shots from the agents back there. Best bet is to land somewhere far enough away from that mountain range - we need a signal strong enough to get back a message to base to come get us out of here."

Natasha nodded, and began to open her mouth when a loud electrical whine sounded from under the jet. After a moment the whine grew into an even louder blast that thrummed through the belly of the jet.

Steve and Bucky shot up from where they stood, only to stumble when the jet shuddered unnaturally. Clint reached across towards Sam and strapped him in, despite the other man's protests, and gripped firmly onto one of the bright yellow handles swinging idly from the ceiling of the jet.

"What the fuck was-" Clint's surprised outburst was interrupted with the unmistakable sound of metal groaning underneath them.

Not a moment later the right engine startled to a halt, sending a few of them sliding into the opposite wall. The jet veered downwards, and alarms began blaring throughout the jet, seeing streaks of red lights across the interior.

Steve barely had a second to bark out a command to hold on before another blast rung through the jet, and the second engine failed on them. Steve felt his stomach suspended until it made a sickening drop and the jet plummeted downwards. Natasha unbuckled herself from the pilot seat, and in an instant as lunging behind the cockpit, hauling Tony with her and pushing Rhodes backwards with the force she exerted. Tony yelped before springing into action and holding onto his best friend, dragging them both to the back of the jet where Barnes was currently punching in an emergency code to open the bay doors.

Nat knew just as well as Bucky that they had a better chance of survival making a jump for it out the bay doors than being in the cockpit, where they'd most likely be skewered by the glass of the windshield when it shattered on impact.

The doors hissed open and immediately the team were encompassed my the freezing-cold air whipping through the door. Bucky grabbed onto one of the yellow handles with this metal arm and craned his head out the door, judging the drop distance from the falling aircraft.

His head whipped back to face the team, faces set determinedly, and yelled over the loud whistle of air around them.

"We gotta jump on my count or it ain't gonna be a pretty landing!" He bellowed at them, while Steve approached him, gripping into his friend's shoulder giving a reassuring squeeze.

"On his mark!" Steve repeated behind him, while Nat pulled Sam to her side, bracketing her body against his to insulate the fall in the hope of avoiding injuring his arm any more that it already was.

Tony felt Rhodey's arm wrap around his side and pull his securely against his side. He wasn't taking any chances of loosing Tony out in the middle of nowhere. Again.

Then Barnes issued the order, and they jumped.

They'd been walking for almost two hours when they spotted it.

They were all worse for ware, to say the least. Sam's arm had turned a dark maroon colour, and he could barely seem to focus on walking. Natasha had a limp even she couldn't hide, and Clint's wheezing rattled his chest. Steve and Bucky weren't bad off, but both were sporting a number of deep purpling bruises and more than a few cuts which were bleeding sluggishly.

Rhodey's legs were struggling; even if the snow wasn't knee-deep, the amount of time he was on his feet had well exceeded  doctor's recommendations. Tony hobbled besides him supporting the majority of his friend's weight, keeping unusually quiet.

They all were silent. The last time anyone really piped up was half an hour ago, after Clint had erupted in heaving coughs and Nat had swore loudly when a splatter of crimson spat from his lips, violently contrasting against the sheet of white snow they were ploughing through. Definitely a punctured lung then, Steve thought grimly, resolutely trying to force down an emerging sense of dread from the pit of his stomach.

An hour before that Clint and Sam had been exchanging quips, keeping up morale. Though at this point, no amount of familiar banter could distract any of them from the fact that the longer they were out here uncovered, the worse off they'd be.

Upon surveilling the crash sight, they found their systems had been hijacked and dismantled, preventing FRIDAY from reading for any other life-signatures or readings of foreign devices on board. One ambitious Hyrda agent had concealed themselves in the belly of the jet, with a huge electromagnetic bomb strapped to their chest. On detonation, it released a shock thought the jet, sending its systems into shut-down.

The agent's mangled body, proudly clutching the hydra badge on his uniform, was all the evidence they needed to make the conclusion that Hyrda was sending out kamikaze's now.

They heaved a collective sigh of relief (well, in Clint's case, wheeze of relief) when Nat announced she spotted what looked like a shack of some kind. Any form of shelter was welcome at this point, they'd just been following a sparse amount of trees in the landscape hoping to end up near water. Usually by water there was some form of civilisation. The trees had grown more concentrated in the lead up to the cabin as it turned out to be, and Steve's heavy footsteps where all anyone could hear as they all waited at the foot of the cabin, waiting for their Glorious Leader to pry it open.

Not exactly the kind of civilisation they had hoped for, the cabin definitely hadn't been lived in for a long time judging by how stiff the door was and the coat of dust covering the minimal amount of furniture inside.

They all filed in, up the steps made of cobblestone and through the low arching wooden doorway of the cabin. It wasn't small, but not exactly spacious for seven people - let alone Avengers - to live in. But it was enough. There was a small kitchenette furnished with an old timely stove with rusting gas knobs, a coal furnace, and a few wooden cupboards that perhaps had a few rations in them - if they were lucky. Across from there was a cosy sitting area, consisting of two ratty sofa's that wouldn't look out of place abandoned on a sidewalk somewhere in Boston, an arm chair missing an arm, and an old Turkish rug. in the far right corner was a round wooden table with a five mismatch chairs, all of which looked like they'd probably snap under any of their weights - except maybe Nat (and Tony, but he would deeply resent being called little).

Steve and Natasha got to work searching for possible food in the kitchenette, while Bucky and Clint lead Sam to one of the sofas. Clint sat himself down with a groan, and Tony silently perched on the arm of the sofa, gently prying away the archer's vest to get a better look at his damaged ribs. Rhodey shut the door once everyone was inside, and noticed the small fireplace tucked behind one of the sofas. Bucky noticed too, and the two silently pushed the sofa into another position so they could access the fireplace, then began searching for anything they could burn. After all, Inside or not, it was fucking cold.

Clint eyed Tony warily as the smaller man gently felt around his ribs, trying to get an idea on the damage. Since the ordeal with the accords and the barbs Clint had directed at Tony from behind bars, their once playful friendship had become cold and unsettled. Clint had trusted Tony, but after the... disagreement (he refused to call it a Civil War, for gods' sake), he had questioned whether Tony had their best interests in mind or his own.

Though, Clint did feel moderately guilty for ever having doubted his friend, because yes, despite it all they were still friends. Hell, even he and Nat had disagreed, so maybe he'd been hasty to judge Tony's motives. Maybe.

Tony surveyed Clint for a few minutes, eventually pulling away and looking Clint in the eye.

"Well, you're not gonna die of a punctured lung," Tony finally declared dryly, and the room's tension seemed to alleviate slightly. "I'm not Bruce - though he would just say 'I'm not that kind of doctor, Tony' - but your ribs are definitely broken. You're a lucky son'f-bitch that it hasn't punctured anything, but it will if you move too much."

"He won't be." Nat cut in, levelling Clint with a glare that read, you better not be so long as I'm here, asshole.

"So not gonna die of a punctured lung," Clint mused, "hooray for small victories."

"Nah, but you might if you don't get that disinfected." Tony said as he nodded casually at the gash in Clint's other side where his quiver had dug into him on impact of their less-than-graceful landing.

"But why the-" Tony finished Clint's sentence for him.

"The coughing-up blood thing? Yeah, not what you thought it was. It's not bleeding in your lungs, but looks like you're bleeding internally somewhere else. Nothing much," Tony added when Sam turned to took at the two of the with wide, concerned eyes, "probably just knocked something on the impact, but take it easy, y'know, in case."

Clint grimaced, then sucked in a sharp breath when Natasha appeared over his shoulder with a rag soaked in alcohol, dabbing it over the wound without so much as a warning.

Steve surveyed the situation from the kitchen; Bucky and Sam were talking in hushed voices, Buck wrapping Sam's broken arm up in a makeshift swing from a ripped up shirt (his ripped up shirt, he noticed fondly), Nat was sorting out Clint, pretending not to notice the way Clint was glowering at her ankle, which come to think of it was bending rather oddly. Rhodey and Tony sat I front of the fireplace, Rhodey starting up a fire and Tony checking the prostheses structure supporting Rhodey's legs.

Steve still felt guilt like a wave of nausea at the sight of it.

He and Tony hadn't spoken one-on-one much since the team had haphazardly come back together. They put their differences aside to tackle the ever growing threat of hydra, and other newly emerging terrorist groups with genocide on their agenda.

While Tony was quieter around him nowadays, he was unusually so at the moment. Steve was about to chalk it up as being concerned for his teammates (family a small voice at the back of his mind substituted), when Tony quietly got up and wandered over to one of the dubious looking chairs around the table at the back. The smaller man sat down quietly, chair creaking ominously but staying put, and Tony undid the zip if his undersuit, clearly looking for something underneath.

From where he stood, Steve couldn't see what, but he could see blood, and the way Tony's hands shook as we went for a bottle of ethanol he'd brought with him to the table. Steve often wondered why Nat seemed so easygoing with Stark, and eventually Steve caught on to the fact the two were remarkably similar in a number of ways. For one, they both chewed out the others for hiding any injuries, taking the responsibility of making them better into their own hands, but then slinking off to lick their own wounds in private.

Clint was now observing Nat's ankle ("dammit Nat you shouldn't have been walking in this unsupported for so long" "as if I wanted to lean on you, govniuk, you were spitting blood, it was gross") so Steve strode over to where Tony was sat, and noticed the way Tony immediately yanked the zipper of his undersuit back up.

"Shy all 'a sudden, Stark?" Steve drawled, a twang of his Brooklyn accent seeping into his words. Tony merely looked unimpressed, but the awkward twitch of his fingers under the table made Steve  pity him, and he dropped the snark.

Steve knelt in front of Tony's chair (no way in hell would he sit on one of those impending disasters), reached across Tony from the bottle, and without further notice pulled the zipper of the undersuit down, revealing the man's very battered torso. Tony was about to protest when Steve but in, "I was in the war, Tony, s'not like I ain't seen fellas naked before."

Tony ignored the way Steve's Brooklyn drawl made his heart flutter because dammit he hasn't felt that way since Before™. Tony was at a loss for words for a moment before his mouth came up with

"You just said 'snot'."

"I said 'it's not', there's a difference," Steve paused before adding with a smirk, "shellhead."

"You totally did not, Rogers, and quit acting like I'm embarrassed. You have googled me, right? A few pages into YouTube and I'm pretty sure Perez Hilton has a sex-tape of mine from the 90's."

"You made a sex-tape with Perez Hilton? Gross, man" Clint snorted as he came to perch on the back of the sofa, facing the table Tony and Steve were sat at.

"Don't even joke about that, I'm shocked and offended and would like you to go away. I've had enough of you. Goodbye." Clint just chuckled in response to Tony, and it felt good, familiar.  There was an unspoken element of hope in the air that things could get back to normal, and Steve ducked his head to hide the smile that played on his lips.

Steve took the opportunity of Tony distracted in his banged with Clint to peek under the fold of the zipper, revealingly a deep cut in Tony's abdomen. Steve winced before pouring the alcohol at it, holding Tony firmly in place while the other man let out a started Yelp and hiss of pain. He couldn't tell from the outside of the undersuit Tony was hurt, which was predominantly due to the fact the dark material made it extremely difficult to see the bleeding.

"Jesus fuck, Cap, could you have given me a heads-up first?" Tony hissed out in rapid breaths as Steve began to reach for the first aid kit he kept in one of the pockets on his utility belt ("you're such a Boy Scout oh my god, Steve, are you shitting me right now?!" "Barton be quiet") and pulled out a small amount of thread and needle saved for wounds that even the serum sometimes needed help healing.

"Nope, 'cause you would'a just kept fidgeting - hold still, Stark!"

Rhodey just listened to the fuss his friend was making, smiling and shaking his head fondly as he got up from the fireplace where a reasonable fire was now starting to burn, and set down next to Sam where Barnes had not long been sitting.

"How's it holding up?" Rhodes tried, eyeing the somewhat shoddy-looking sling that hung around Sam's shoulder.

"Would like to say it's fine, but, shit if it doesn't make wanna make me throw up!" Sam laughed shakily, earning a smile from the older man in return. Sam and Rhodey had gotten on like house on fire before the accords, both being military men through and through. Sure, Rogers was too, but after many a late night at college with a seventeen year-old Tony Stark drunkenly ranting about never being good enough for 'Dear-Old Dad', and then catching wind of what was said on the helical river of their first meeting, Rhodey was less inclined to like the Captain. Yes, it was mildly petty of him but damn that man for making his best friend feel so small. He'd worked very hard to get that out of him over the years, thank you very much, Rogers.

It was nice, being able to have a conversation with Sam again without any underlying heated argument. Since hydra's attacks became more frequent and more concentrated, putting their own differences aside was necessary, and dammit if it wasn't refreshing to just talk.

Natasha watched with a growing sense of fondness at the scene before her, then becoming acutely aware of someone watching her - not that she let it show. Her and James hadn't ever really spoken since Bucky was just Bucky and not the Winter Soldier. There was a time when she'd have given anything to see him again, to speak to him alone because he was hers. Now, she wasn't even sure he truly remembered her. He looked as if he recognised her, the same way you recognise a stranger you passed on the street in a dream. He looks at her as if trying to figure something out, which he undoubtably is, but Natasha doesn't give anything away.

Natasha Romanoff met Bucky Barnes for the first time in a jail cell in Wakanda. Natasha Romanoff met the a Winter Soldier for the first time on a roadside protecting her mechanic. Natalia Romanova met James for the first time as a young girl in the Red Room, but she doesn't even know how much of her James is left in Bucky.

"Are you just going to loom, Barnes, or can I help you with something?" She asked dryly after a few moments. She eyed James Bucky from where she leant over the counter of the kitchenette. If he was startled he didn't show it, and simply stepped more clearly into her line of sight.

"S'gonna get even colder soon, did you manage to get much from the wreckage?" He spoke quietly, yet could be heard as clear as a bell.

"Some essentials," she replied, "emergency food, spare clothes - ones in one piece, that is, flashlights, first-aid, few rounds of ammo. It's all that I could really recover." Bucky nodded in understanding, the jet had been a wreck when it landed; they all salvaged as much as they could, but they weren't exactly in an abundance of supplies.

Almost as if on queue, Clint who had slunk  of at some point to rummage around the cabin emerged what looked like spare rags, throws, blankets, and if Natasha wasn't mistaken a rug. Sam had also seemed to notice the same thing.

"I don't care what any of y'all say, I'm not using a damn rug as a blanket. Dibs on the red one." Sam declared, and Natasha plucked the red blanket  from the pile tossed it in Sam's direction.

"All right," Steve announced, standing up from his perching position on the floor, "I say we rest now, get some energy and figure out food when we wake up. After that maybe one of use will be sane enough to think of some way we get outta this mess."

The nods and hums of approval from the others settled it, and they all began to gravitate towards the warmth of the fire. Bucky secured the door shut, shifting a heavy bucket of wet rocks of coal that sat by the doorframe in front of the door as a half-assed barricade.

Rhodey of course got to stretch his legs out across a sofa to himself, and Clint occupied the other to take any strain of his ribs that he might've gotten sleeping on the floor. Sam took the pillows of the armchairs and made himself a makeshift mattress, which no one complained about given the state of his arm.

This left Bucky, Nat, Tony, and Steve to lie on the rug in the middle. For a while they lead awkwardly, trying their upmost to avoid nudging each other, until Nat sighed and let her head roll onto Tony's shoulder. She felt him tense momentarily underneath her, until relaxing and turning to face her slightly, enjoying the warmth radiating off her small frame. Eventually Steve and Bucky let go of their reluctance and settled into the others, shifting comfortably until the adrenaline of the day wore off, and they succumbed to sleep.

When Tony woke, it wasn't light like he was expecting.

They had all been ridiculously tired and hurt - Tony assumed the only chance of it still being dark when he woke up was if he slept until the next evening, which it definitely was not. No way would the others have let him sleep that long, they enjoy distrusting his sleep far too much.

The moonlight made the snow outside glow softly, subtly illuminating parts of the cabin. Tony shifted to sit up slightly, careful not to press on his new stitches thanks to Steve. For a guy with large hands, Steve had a remarkable skill for detail, probably because of all the time he spent sketching privately.

Tony plucked himself out of Steve's grip, who apparently locked his arms around his waist in his sleep. Steve'd never do that consciously, surely (right?). Looking down fondly at the blonde, the hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up suddenly, sending chill down his spine - not a pleasant one, either. Glancing around the room, Tony took a sudden intake of breath when he noticed Barnes had silently gotten up too, looking alarmingly alert for such an ungodly hour in the morning.

Barnes' mouth was set in a thin line, barely making a sound as he breathed. He's listening for something, Tony realised, when a noise outside drew his attention towards to door. He almost didn't hear it, but a rustle of movement beside him and Nat was now wide awake too.

Something wasn't right then.

Soundlessly, the three of them got up and crept across the floor of the cabin, Bucky nudging Steve awake as he did so, bringing a finger to his lips when Steve eyed him curiously and was about to speak up. Steve clearly sensed something was wrong too, and joined Natasha in looking carefully out the window through the drapes, riddled with holes and frayed at the tips.

Tony felt his heart beating in his mouth, and swallowed down the stir of dread pooling in his gut.

Pulling on boots and coats, the four of them regarded each other before Steve spoke in a hushed tone to them, "I say three of us check the area, and someone stays behind to keep watch if the others." Clint, Sam, and Rhodey were all fast asleep, oblivious to the tension around them, deeply sedated on the pain meds they managed to scramble together from the wreckage earlier.

Tony noticed the other three looking at him expectantly, and he huffed an air of annoyance. Of course, because he was without his suit he should be the one to stay behind, because without it, he's as good as a civilian. Steve read as much on Tony's scowl, and sighed gently.

"Stark- Tony, it's not that you aren't capable-"

"But I'm not as capable as you, got it."

Steve didn't look pleased by this, but ignored the comment in leu of the current situation. Like the fact they've probably been found by hydra, who's forces are currently trying to ambush them.

Sounds about right, Tony mused. Nat, Barnes, and Steve took a final once-over of the scene from the window and filed outside, gens turning signals to each other as they went.

Steve head out first, making a gesture behind himself a few yards from the cabin. With his left arm, he raised his forearm up, making an 'o' shape with his hand.

Hurry up.

Before they'd slunk out the door, they'd grabbed their handguns fixed with silencers. Nat and Barnes followed up behind Cap in a wedge formation, keeping enough distance between each other to get a good scope of the area around them. Tony craned his neck out the door as much as he could until all three were out of sight. The trees were much denser in this area which made the threat of an ambush much more likely.

Ten minutes past and Tony still hadn't seen or heard from the others. Rhodey had woken up, not nearly on as main pain meds as Sam and Clint, and had a pistol in hand from his spot on the sofa. Tony cursed whatever hydra goon had set off the EMP immobilising the suit. He and Rhodey had had to abandon most of their armours, not having enough time to get it back into working order. They'd made sure to blow it up first of course before retreating back to the jet.

Tony had kept his gauntlets on, and the reactor of course, and was currently in the process of trying to boot them back up. Without the reactor at full capacity though, it was a long and tedious process.

Another 10 minutes passed (well, actually 8 minutes, 37 seconds, 38, 39...) and Tony heard the muffled sound of a gunshot spit through the silence on the night air. Looking back at Rhodey for a moment, Tony thought fuck it, they probably could do with some help, and made a dash for it out of the door, into the cold biting air outside.

Clicking the door shut behind him, Tony scurried to the nearest evergreen to get some kind of shelter while he surveyed the area. His breath frosted in front of his nose, and be took a moment to control his breathing before heading in the last direction he saw the others go. Following in that direction, Tony regarded the bootprints left in the snow. Hydra issue combat boots had a distinction tread mark, and Tony followed them cautiously. As far as the hydra agents knew, only three Avengers we're currently out on the scene.

Hearing the crunch of snow underfoot a few feet ahead, Tony poked out from behind a large fir tree, adjusting the silencer into his gun, and picked off two hydra goons in two practised shots. Venturing out and searching the agents of anything useful, Tony heard a commotion a few yards ahead. Setting off in a sprint, Tony came to the edge of a clearing, throwing himself onto the ground before a steep drop into the clearing.

Steve was there, wrestling three agents off his back. One agent deliver a swift jab to his gut, only slightly making Steve double over, before he delivered a far more devastating uppercut to the hydra goon's chin, knocking him out cold. Steve then grappled with the agent over his back, trying to crush his windpipe with the rifle he was carrying. Steve got a grip on the rifle and tossed his attacker over his shoulders, where the guy landed in a graceless pile at Steve's feet. Scrambling for a handgun, the agent was cut short with a swift step to the neck from Steve.

The crack of bone breaking reverberated through the trees, and the third agent panicked momentarily before Steve shot him between the eyes in one graceful movement.

Steve was panting, shoulders heaving with adrenaline and fists clenching and unclenching as he caught his breathe. Tony kicked himself internally for not coming out sooner, since they clearly had needed the extra support. Steve was tired, which said a hell of a fucking lot about the current mess they were in. Tony was about to make his presence know to Steve when a spot of light caught his eye from amongst the trees a few yards behind Steve, who was busy kneeling down beside the agents, searching them for anything useful. A figure stepped out the shadows, raising a large looking blade into an offensive position.

Tony swallowed hard, then set his face determinedly, raising his own gun directed at the agent. Tony didn't want to risk yelling at Steve to warn him, since the agents reaction would be too unpredictable. Too many variables he is not willing to test.

Once in range, Tony focuses the barrel of the gun on the mark and pulled the trigger.

Click

Wait, no. No, no, no, no,

Click Click Click

The chamber was empty. Fantastic.

Grunting in frustration and feeling the sudden build up of panic and dread, Tony did the only rational thing he could think of, and lunged.

Steve spun around at the commotion, gun raised, before lowering it when he saw Tony. Tony was leapt down from a hight like a bat out of hell and sent himself and - and a hydra agent (how did he miss that, damn it?) skidding across the clearing.

The agent rolled Tony over onto his back and swung a meaty just at Tony's nose, grinning when it crunched under the impact. Tony kneed the guy in the groin, turning them both over again and began beating the agent again and again and again until he saw blood. Steve stood frozen for a few precious moments before running forward - and gracelessly slipping on ice.

His body landed with a ear-splitting crack on the ground, and for a moment everything stopped.

Tony had paused, fist frozen mid-air, and the agent's eyes were blown wide and startled. Steve only had a moment to realise what was happening; the deep echoing crack underneath them, and a split in the ice coming from under his body, headed like a bold of electricity towards the fight I front of him.

Steve didn't dare breathe.

Another large and ominous sound echoed underneath Tony and the agent, before Tony's eyes met his, panicked and wide, and Steve barely had a moment to call for Tony's name before the ice gave way and the two men out on the ice went crashing though the surface into the freezing cold mercy depths below.

"Tony!"

The shock of the freezing water sent Tony reeling back, thrashing against the water. He felt hands tighten around his jacket, pulling him under, pushing on his head, forcing it down and scrambling over his body.

Tony was loosing the feeling in his extremities, face burning with the cold. The other man forced him down again and again, as if he were nothing more than a buoy. 

Tony's vision flashed bright white, the smell of blood and sweat thick in his throat suddenly, the burn on hot sand on his knees - but he was so cold - hands grabbing him by the roots of his hair, the scruff of his shirt, forcing him under vile water, making him retch uncontrollably when they brought him up, only to shove him back down before he could breathe again.

Breathe, breathe, God he needed to just breathe.

They brought him back up, and the gulped down the hot air like he was starving for it, only when we did, he choked and his airways flooded with ice, choking him intensely. Tony was suddenly grossly aware that he wasn't in Afghanistan, he was drowning in a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere, scrambling for life with a fucking Nazi.

Tony thrashed against the other man, biting down on the hand forcing his head deeper under the surface. He tasted copper in the water around him, kicking furiously to break the surface.

Until a boot collided with his nose, and everything went impossibly darker.

Natasha and James had broken off from Steve after noticing stray Hyrda lackeys attempting to establish a perimeter around their refuge. Like the agents they encountered at the base, they were heavily armed, but there were fewer of them this time. Much fewer.

Bucky was never a deep sleeper, especially after the war. Hearing the crunch of snow distantly outside woke him in an instant; he was surprised to see Tony awake - there was no way Tony with his regular hearing would have heard the approaching ambush, but perhaps a part of him sensed it, or whatever, Bucky thought.

Steve had followed the agents who split off eastward, while Nat and he stalked after the ones headed the other direction. The agents must've followed them in a jet of their own, though must have been thrown off course after the jet crashed. No doubt the snow concealed their tracks from the wreckage not long after they marched onwards.

Nat was in her element here, she'd trained in worse conditions than this. Raising her gun up, she didn't shiver even a bit, just followed at the heels of u suspecting agents through the thick foliage. Once they were both in range, they began taking shots at the ambush team, ducking for cover under slopes coated in sheets of snow. Bucky sprung from behind a fallen fir, driving his metal fist into an agent's chest, hearing it crack violently and the guy propelled backwards into two other agents, who had a moment to look panicked until Nat had delivered two precise marks into their skulls.

Not before long, Bucky and Natasha established their area as clear, before going to regroup with Steve. Jogging through the uneven landscape, kicking up snow as they went, they heard a large commotion ahead. Speeding up their pace, they emerged in a small clearing before Natasha suddenly came to a stop, red locks falling in front of her pale features, flushed pink from the biting cold, framing her face delicately.

"Wait," she whispered in a low tone, sticking her hand out at the same time, making a stop gesture to Bucky. Buck crouched down low upon seeing the scene in front of them, as if readying himself, monitoring the situation before him.

"Oh that stupid son of a bitch."

Steve was led on the ice, unmoving but hyper-aware of his surroundings. In his line of sight, Tony was straddling an agent, both of whom were frozen mid-scramble. Natasha raised her gun, reading herself to take the shot if the agent tried anything smart, when the ice cracked - echoing around the small valley they were in, before crunching and collapsing, dropping Tony and the lackey into the inky-black waters below.

Steve sprung upwards, ready to jump in to get Tony, when a stiffness overtook his body. It froze his arms at his side, he grit his teeth and trying to surge forwards, only to be betrayed by his own two feet, which were currently digging his heels into the ground.

It's not the Atlantic, you're not on that fucking plane. You. Are. Not.

Steve retreated this in his head like a mantra, but still couldn't will himself to move. Sucking in one last breath of air, Steve jumped as Bucky slid past him, and dove headfirst into the ice.

"Cap! Get back, the ice won't hold both of you!" came Nat's voice behind him.

Steve looked vaguely guilty before darting forward, until he saw Bucky break though the surface, Tony tucked under his arm. Through clenched teeth, Bucky hauled himself through the water. After one failed attempt at trying to climb back out the same hole, the soldier resorted to smashing the ice separating him from the bank of the lake. Steve began doing the same, and within a minute or two, was hauling the two men out the lake.

Bucky collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, dropping a limp Tony on his back on the bank. Tony's eyes were blown wide, and his nose was at an awkward angle, gushing with blood. Natasha scooped him up, supporting him from under his armpits,mane started leading him back to the cabin, Steve and Bucky a few short paces behind.

"Why didn't you fucking tell us what was going on - is that Ton- what the hell happened?!" Came Clint's voice hollering through the tree's. He was a few yards in front of the cabin entrance, absolutely seething. Storming forward, Clint hooked an arm round Tony and wordlessly helped Nat take him inside.

When Steve and Bucky stood through the door, Sam glared back at them. Shaking his head, he took one last glance outside, and tentatively shut the door. Rhodey had thrown more paper onto the fire, and Tony was set down in front of it. He was dripping wet, and Rhodey threw blanket after blanket over his friend. Bucky lingered back, until Sam approached his side.

"You're soaked through - don't try and tell me super soldiers don't feel the cold, you need to start warming yourself back up, and I don't care if it hurts your dignity," Sam pushed Bucky down by his shoulder, plonking him next to Tony, and bringing the blankets that currently swamped Tony over the other man's shoulders too.

Bucky shifted awkwardly next to Tony, who was barely suppressing the body-wracking shudders escaping from his control.

"Here," Steve knelt down beside Tony, while the others were pottering around, casting cautious looks out the windows and preparing some kind of herbal tea.

"Thanks - thank you, Tony, you had my back out there and I'm just sorry I-" Steve fumbled for the right worlds, before signing and settling on, "I promise I'll have your back next time, Shellhead."

Tony flinched when Steve pressed a cold rag against his nose, screwing his eyes shut at the pain ebbing from the break. When he opened them again, a soft expression passed over the blonde's features. Tony briefly returned the look, before settling his eyes over his hands.

"I do think you're capable, Tony," Steve said softly so only they could hear (well, Bucky could too, but he was strategically very hard on anything but the exchange going on beside him) "It's just, you take it the wrong way," Bucky whistled lowly, hissing a breath of air in an obvious cringe, and Steve backtracked quickly.

"I mean- it's not your fault, you haven't done anything wrong, you're just so, modest?" Tony raised his eyebrows at that; not at the way it had been posed as a question, but the fact no one had every called Tony Stark modest.

"You assume the worst out of things when it comes to yourself, but it's only because, well because I care."

Bucky had to stop himself snorting when he saw Steve glance at him thought the corner of his eye, as if to ask, was that the right thing to say?

Clearly it was, because the tension from Tony's shouldered rolled off, and he gave a tentative smile.

"Back at you, Cap," and with that, Steve got up and wandered over to the others, giving Tony a pat on the shoulder as he went by.

Tony and Bucky sipped at their tea, resolutely not looking at each other, before Bucky opened his mouth, mumbling into his drink, "'Back at you, Cap'? God, that was awful".

Tony scowled in Bucky's direction, who still hadn't lifted his eyes from his mug - but was definitely smirking into his drink - when Clint plopped himself down on the sofa next to them.

"S'good job you're rich, or you'd be stuck like that forever man," Clint interrupted, pulling a face at the awkward angle of Tony's nose, "Shit you look ugly."

Sam swatted the archer over the back of the head, kissing his teeth at the man in disapproval. Rhodey sat on the couch by Tony, leaning down and tilting his friend's chin upwards, evaluating the damage to his face, before placing a hand either side of his head firmly.

"Man, I won't lie to you, this will hurt just a little bit," Rhodey said matter of factly, ignoring the way Tony's expression morphed from one of confusion to sudden panic.

"No, no Rhodey do not-!"

Crack.

"Motherfucker, you son-of-a- fuck!" Tony groaned dramatically, grasping his hand over his newly adjusted nose. The others just chucked around him, until their laughter grew louder and more hysterical. Tony's groaning turned to giggles, though the occasional fuck hiccuped between them.

Natasha brandished two steaming mugs of tea in front of Tony and Bucky, snorting loudly at Tony's purpling face. Shaking her head, she fetched a wash-cloth from the kitchenette sink, and carefully scrubbed the trail of blood cascading down Tony's nose, lips, and chin.

Daylight was starting the break over the horizon, illuminating the snow outside, casting a soft glow into the cabin.

"Uh - what the fuck is this?" Sam asked carefully, eyeing the viscous white-goo Steve had just played up in front of him.

"C'mon its not that bad, it's just porridge and- stuff. It's good for you! Probably-?" He muttered the last part to himself, eyeing his own creation dubiously before settling down in his seat on the back of the couch, facing the small table.

Bucky, Natasha, and Clint all ate the food wordlessly, getting it down their throats without even tasting it. Rhodey did the same, albeit with a grimace, while Sam and Tony prodded at it, eyes filled with concern.

Should it be this sticky? Tony's eyes screamed at Sam, who just helplessly shrugged in response.  

"Just eat it, Wilson, we can't exactly order take-out right now - it's what we've got." Steve said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Well we didn't actually try-"

"What would we do, make smoke signals?" Rhodey grinned at his friend.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, only interrupted by the scrape of cutlery against the various pots and pans they ate from.

"You reckon you could piece something together?"

Tony looked up and noticed Barnes had directed the question at him, all eyes on his expectantly. Tony set his spoon down and leant back in his chair, considering.

"Well, sure. It won't be hard per-say - I can salvage something from the tech on your suits, make a communication devise or something that tells someone where we are. If we're lucky, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be looking for us-"

"They are" Natasha stated matter-of-factly, before letting Tony continue.

"-okay, but we're in the middle of nowhere, and with what we have to hand, I doubt anything I could make from it would reach far enough, we have no satellite dishes or anything to transmit a strong enough frequency-"

"The Hydra base," Sam cut in, "it's risky - really risky, we're down by quite a bit - but it may be the only realistic chance we have to get a strong signal out fast. And let's face it," he said, looking at their various current states of disarray, "we won't manage without proper medical supplies and food out here for much longer."

Steve nodded at Sam, then turned to look at Tony who - despite having a huge purple bruise forming over the bridge of his nose and around his eyes - looked at him determinedly.

"Alright," he agreed, "We prepare everything we've got, then we head out at sundown."

"I've been out on worse ops with even worse conditions, Cap, I'll manage with a broken rib."

Cap had decided just he Bucky and Nat would be going out armed, taking Tony with them for the technical stuff, as Bucky put it.

Rhodey and Sam were fairly content this - Rhodey wasn't ready to engage physically with the enemy without his armour at the moment, and Sam trusted Steve on this one. Besides, they had to watch Clint.

"One wrong move and that broken rib becomes a punctured lung, and we're royally fucked if that happens, Clint" Steve said sternly, challenging Clint to protest again. When Clint opened his mouth, Steve raised his hand, "That's an order, Barton. Just because you could go out right now, doesn't mean you should. It's not a necessary risk."

"He'll stay put," Sam spoke up, waltzing over to the table where the team were gathering together what supplies they had salvaged - dividing it into what was useful and what they could sacrifice to Tony to be disembowelled of its technological innards.

"Tony has a broken face, why does he get to go out?" Clint challenged, though given the fact he was now resting on the couch with his feet up, he'd backed down about going out himself.

"He won't go into critical condition under too much strain, unlike you, and he can still move his limbs," Steve shrugged a backpack on over his thick jacket and uniform, securing his shield to his forearm, "and he's kinda important for the whole getting help thing."

Tony grinned devilishly at Steve, who just huffed an amused sigh back.

"Kinda - don't let it inflate your ego."

"So," Bucky huffed, trudging through the snow, "you care about him?"

Steve sighed, having expected this conversation. Since the coming together after the accords, the divide among the team had never felt more clear. It cut deep, and God if it wasn't painful. The way they physically broke off from each other in missions.

Thing only changed one night when Clint, in all his anger at Tony, interrupted a personal moment. Tony had been sat in the dark of the Avengers a Tower communal room. They all lived there again, a grudging decision they made - as if forcing two broken halves of a vase would fuse back together upon contact. It would take more than proximity to fix the mend.

The room hadn't been lived in in a long time, filled with ghosts of memories of old movie nights, homey meals, game night and conversations that spiralled on for hours.

Clint couldn't sleep, being away from home got to him a lot lately. God, he missed them all. He'd wondered in the dark room, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets, reminiscing of more comfortable times.

What he hadn't expected to see, was Tony Stark, leant over a grand piano - they all had assumed was some extravagant decor choice - with his shoulders shaking silently. Clint was about to turn round, until a pang grew in his chest. He and Tony used to be good friends. They shared the same witty sense of humour, used sarcasm as a shield, and used humour oozed from them as they told stories.

Damnit.

He'd wondered over, wordlessly sitting by the other man as his trembling fingers hovered over the Ivory keys

"My- ah," Tony steadied his shaking voice, coughing away the catch in his throat, "my mom, mi mamma - mia bella madre, she taught me to play."

Clint listened carefully. Tony didn't speak about his mother, especially since finding out about her death, the real reason, but she clearly meant the world to him. Tony had gingerly played the piano, and they began to talk, and eventually laugh. They watched movies, Tony spoke about his mom, Clint spoke about his family. One time he mentioned missing being able to come home to family, to hold them when he came home. He lived mostly at the tower for his duty, and he and Laura and agreed that his Avenging life stayed away from their home on the farm - there was to be a regular family, to keep his children safe.

The others gradually joined them in watching movies, and things began to pick up again. It was still... different ... but it was better, getting better, at least. They were fusing the two pieces back together, there was no hiding the mark left behind.

Steve had reached out to Tony, thought he other man was still hurting, and in truth Steve was too. But no matter how much Tony seemed to blow his fuse with the other man, how he took things badly and snapped, they seemed to be settling on even grounds again.

His feelings for Tony had never really gone. He pushed them down when he did what he had to do; but now, bringing things back together, he couldn't keep the lid on much longer. After Tony had saved his skin, fallen in the ice for him, Steve could feel his effort to talk to Tony weren't hopeless. Just maybe, the other man had been deflecting as his own way of keeping a lid on his emotions.

"I do, yeah," Steve looked down at his feet, kicking snow out his way, pushing on. The Hyrda base was two miles away now, Nat leading the way, followed by Tony, the rear brought up by Steve and Bucky. Luckily for Steve, the wind was coming towards them, so their voices wouldn't be carried to Tony's ears.

"He tried to kill us, remember?" Bucky eyed Steve carefully. Steve looked sharply at Bucky, stopping himself from snapping when he noticed the calculating look Bucky was casting his way.

"No, he didn't," Steve admitted to himself, "he was pulling his punches - he, he could've shot you with that missile, instead he just used to to trap you. He showed us mercy, despite-" Steve glanced up at Tony, gazing at the smaller man, striding forwards determinedly.

"I know. I wanted to make sure you did too, punk. He cares about you too."

They eventually reached the base, only visible by a few bunkers inconspicuously poking up through the snow. They were concealed as old war bunkers, but Steve had studied the layout religiously, and recognised which one was a concealed entrance.

Natasha stepped up on the ladder on the side of the bunker, lifting the trap door, motioning Bucky to follow her. They couldn't go in, guns blazing this time. They had to be tactical. Natasha and Bucky had the best stealth training, they'd go in, take out four guards, and take their uniforms.

When Natasha and Buck disappeared through the door, Steve straightened himself, holding his hands out after Tony in case he slipped, who was scaling the ladder. Steve stared despite himself, feeling his Catholic Guilt swing and punch him in the gut when caught himself ogling Tony's ass above him. Not that he stopped, would in their right mind would?

Tony got up, and Steve followed quickly, pretending he'd just been scouting the area. They sat at the top, waiting by the door until Buck would come up and give the go-ahead.

Steve watched as Tony broke of a chunk of ice around the skirting of the bunker, bringing it up to his nose, hissing but then sighing with relief at the cold press. The bruising had darkened considerably, but his eyes still stood out from his face.

Tony had beautiful eyes, so dark you'd almost mistake them for black, but upon looking closely they were a gorgeous combination of chestnut and mahogany, glittering with emotion; framed beautifully by long, thick lashes. After knowing Tony for a while, Steve realised why the man wore sunglasses out in public so much. He had is media façade, but not even that could conceal what his eyes revealed. Tony's eyes exposed his soul, opening him up like a rose.

And those eyes were gazing at his. Steve felt a spark in his belly, the sudden dryness of his mouth - a metallic clang rung from below them, and the two men shot up and aimed their guns at the door, which creaked before swinging open, revealing Bucky's plain expression.

"Care to join me, fellas?"

They split off into pairs, since hydra agents on patrol usually were in groups no larger than three unless they were headed somewhere important, like to secure the perimeter. The base was much scarcer than it had been their previous visit, which sent a wave of satisfaction through them all.

They'd shaken them up good, and their forces were scattered.

Natasha and Tony marched in unison toward the communications room, while Bucky and Steve patrolled the corridors surrounding the room, ready to notify the other pair of any suspicious activity. They couldn't blow their cover before getting the message to S.H.I.E.L.D out.

Tony had emptied his pocket, which contained an improvised devise which would temporarily and discretely lower the security parameters of the system, long enough for them to send an encrypted signal to Director Fury.

Natasha stood guard outside the door, while Tony busied himself with setting up the plan.

"What're you doing, agent?" Tony spun round at the voice, thankful he decided to keep his helmet on, visor down. Natasha entered the room, discretely shutting the door behind her.

"We're under strict instructions to send an urgent message to headquarters." She lied easily, without a trace of any American accent.

"Under whose instructions?" The man challenged. He wore a similar get-up to standard agents, but was without a helmet and appeared to have some kind of merits adorning his jacket. Ah, so a Nazi with brownie points, must be fairly high ranked here, she thought.

"I'm afraid we don't have the jurisdiction to disclose that information, sir." Tony supplied - he made a living for the first half of his life bullshitting to a board of directors and wealthy benefactors - he could pull a lie from his ass when he needed.

"Well, given that I run the operation here, I grant you permission to disclose," he gestured a hand out, as if inviting them to speak. Tony shrugged at Natasha, who had already walked up to the man and snapped neck in one swift movement.

Tony winced as turned back to the monitors, stitching on the device and getting to work on the coding. He'd memorised the digits needed to send Fury a direct signal in code, he'd done it enough times.

Nat dragged the man's body behind a desk, before heading back towards the door, looking through the glass panel for anyone approaching.

An electric chirp sounded from the computer Tony was leant over, fingers tapping away furiously, "I've sent the signal, but the tech here is - is ancient, it's gonna take a few minutes to send."

"How long do you reckon?" Natasha asked, brow furrowed curiously.

"I'd say ten minutes, give or take - but that means this," he waved at the device he made, "is going to stop covering up our tracks in about five, so..." "There's gonna be a gap where they're gonna notice what we're doing." Natasha concluded, sighing and the nod of Tony's head.

"Good news is they won't be able to intercept it unless the physically dismantle this computer, so we'll have to hold them off long enough for it to reach Nick, then get the hell outta here."

Natasha gave a confirming nod and slipped out the door, ready to track down Steve and Bucky to relay the information. They'd need them there to defend the room.

Five minutes passed, and as if on queue, sirens howled throughout the base, lighting turning a pulsating red. Voices declaring unauthorised personnel rung from the speakers I. The building in various languages. Tony straightened himself and tore off the sleeve covering his single remaining gauntlet, finding solace in the familiar whine of the repulsers firing up. Heavy footsteps were approaching, when Steve burst into the room, gun raised.

Natasha and Bucky appeared in the doorway, walking backwards in a crouch, open firing into the corridor.

"How do you suppose we get outta here?" Bucky called over the sound of gunfire, ducking behind the cover of the reinforced doorframe. Steve turned to Tony, who stilled before aiming his gauntlet skywards. Firing, a large hole emerged in the ceiling from the impact of the blast, and cold air whipped into the room.

"The building has ventilation above it to release carbon dioxide, since it's totally underground - those bunkers act as an airlock, which is what makes this place so hard to detect. Our best bet is to get out through the dead space above us, since we're not exactly in the position to just walk back out the way we came."

Natasha reeled backwards, the sound of a bullet ricocheting the side of the door.

"Yeah, I can agree with that."

The minutes passed by painfully slow, the four of them taking up positions where they could aim into the corridor, taking shots at over-confident agents. Eventually, a ping rang from the computer, indicating the signal was sent.

"Thank fuck-" was all Tony said before Steve was marching up to him, hoisting him onto his shoulders.

"-Steve! For God's sake I have a heart condition!" He grumbled, swaying on Steve's shoulders, before sighing and pushing up on Steve's head, coming to a shakey balance stood on the man's broad shoulders. Reaching up, he pulled himself up through the hole he'd created, shimmying into the ventilation tunnel it had revealed.

Nat was next, running at Steve in a practised move, jumping off his shield as he propelled her upwards - without exerting too much force (he wanted her to reach the ceiling, not go through it). She swung herself up, shuffling down after Tony to make room for the other two men.

Bucky drained the last of his cartridge, before shutting the door, sliding the rifle between the handle  to hold off the agents from coming in. He and Steve jumped up, easily pulling their weight into the vent one after the other - their only difficulty was squeezing their shoulders through.

They crawled far enough until coming to a stop. Steve had been directing them, having analysed the buildings layout, guessing which way would get them closest to an exit. They heard voices coming from inside the vents being them - they'd managed to get into the room, then.

Tony pulled out a screwdriver and undid the bolts on the casing of the vent below them quickly, dropping down onto the floor below. The others followed closely behind him, when they heard the click of someone clicking the safety off their gun.

Between them and the ladder escalating to the exit, was an experienced-looking agent. He'd clearly anticipated which exit they were headed too, and decided to take them down himself.

"So what - you decided to come down here, a lone gun-slinger, to save the day or- am I close?" Tony questioned the agent, hands raised tiredly at the barrel of the gun currently pressing against his temple.

The agent had been hiding in the shadows, seizing the opportunity of Tony's turned back from where he dropped out the vent to use him as a bargaining token.

"I have nothing to prove, Mr Stark," the agent snapped bitterly, voice dripping in what sounded like a Scandinavian accent, pressing the gun harder against Tony's head.

"Sure looks like it from where we're standing," Steve grumbled darkly. The agent only grabbed Tony's arm, pulling the man closer to him and pressing the gun at the base of his skull, eyes manic.

"Drop your weapons, now, or I swear to God I'll pull the trigger," when the others gave no response, the agent laughed, "You thing I'm lying? Believe me, it would be an hour to execute this man, I'd do it happily even if it was the last thing I did. Try me."

Steve dropped his gun to the ground, ignoring Bucky's frustrated groan. Despite this, the other man let his weapon fall to the ground with a clunk. Natasha made no sign I moving.

"You too, bitch. Drop it, now!" Spittle flew from the agents mouth, and Natasha loosened her hold on her weapon - and the agent visibly relaxed when he saw it slip out her right hand - dropping down a few inches before her left hand snapped it up again, firing two precise shots between the man's eyes. His body fell into a heap on the floor, foot twitching a few times before permanently stilling.

"You stretched that out on purpose, Romanoff," Tony's voice accused her, though was sorted with the tone of fond amusement wrapped around it.

"Of course I didn't, I'm very professional, Stark." She said innocently, strolling past him and already scaling the ladder.

Bucky stared after her, torn between bewildered, jealous, and impressed. Steve leant in to his friend's, raising his eyebrows knowingly and pursing his lips together to hide his amusement.

"She's uh - she's pretty good I guess."

"You don't remember me, do you?"

The team were all settled on a quinjet in far better shape than their current one, trashed in the middle of some Norwegian wilderness. Bucky considered Natasha carefully as the woman sat next to him, filling with the chamber of her gun.

"You were -" Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to dig pack into his past and turn over the right stone that would give him the answer he knew was there, but couldn't find. He remembers her face, her hair, the way she moved, the way she hunted. He felt... something, when she looked at him, but he hadn't placed his finger on what it was and where it came from.

"I know I knew you, and not just on the side of the road with your - technician, was it?"

"Mechanic, but close enough."

"Right, mechanic." He wet his lips, "I know you're important to me, I just don't know why."

Natasha stayed silent at that, but he was trained just like her to notice the tiniest quirks of a person. She hid them well, but in recent years, she'd been spending time with a very different crowd of people than to the ones she was around growing up. She'd let some things slip, like chewing the inside of her lip, just slightly, but enough that he noticed.

She was unhappy - hurt, even.

"Can you help me?" He tried, earning a cautious look from the woman, "I want to remember, I want to know why I feel... this, when I see you." He finished quietly, having revealed a close intimacy about himself.

He set his jaw hard when Natasha nodded, a little more warmly than she was a few moments ago. She patted his knee, letting her hand linger for a moment, before walking up to the cockpit.

Bucky let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

On the other side of the jet, a medic was evaluating Sam's arm, raising it to see when and where it hurt, nodding sympathetically when the man grit his teeth. Rhodey was laughing with Clint, who was currently shirtless with a large bandage wrapped around his torso, applying light pressure to the break. Steve was smiling at the two men, laughing alongside them every so often, while Tony was sat at Rhodey's feet, receiving a gentle head massage that made his eyes roll shut.

When he opened them, he caught Steve directing an open and fond gaze his way, which transformed to mild panic when he realised Tony saw him. Tony felt a leap in his chest, and just grinned genuinely at Steve - not one of his practised media-smiles plastered over his face, but a soft and slightly crooked smile, easily forming on his face.

Steve felt his heart flutter with hope for the first time since the accords.

After the debrief, the others enthusiastically agreed to head to Clint's farm for a few days. Clint was beaming, barely able to stand in one spot when they touched down, and he ran out, scooping Nathaniel into his arms. Laura smiled and kissed her husband, while Natasha crouched down in front of Clint's daughter, who began talking to her excitedly.

"Laura," came Steve's warm and grateful voice, and she turned at him smiling gently, "thank you for this, it's so good to see you under better circumstances." She waved him off fondly, and patted his arm softly. "Steve, you got my husband home in one piece, that's better than what most people can manage - it's my pleasure."

Looking over Steve's shoulder, Laura noticed Tony approaching cautiously. She grinned at him brightly, which seemed to ease his tension.

"Tony! Thank you last time, for the tractor, I never got the chance to thank you properly-"

"Oh no-no it was no problem, I like doing that kinda stuff, really,"

Clint openly smiled at Tony, approaching him and pulling an arm round his shoulders. "He ain't lying, babe, he's kinda weird like that. Likes pulling things apart and sticking them back together - it's his thing, just go with it," he whispered sarcastically, earning a snort from Tony.

Inside, everyone had settled after eating a warm meal ("Thank god for real food, and not that wallpaper-paste Steve calls porridge," "Hey come on! It wasn't that bad, Sam."), and were comfortably chatting in various places in the living room.

Rhodey was watching cartoons with Clint's kids, joined by Natasha who has sat cross-legged in the carpet, braiding Bucky's hair. Laura and Clint were squished together on a love-seat, talking in hushed voices, sharing private smiles, and Sam was engaged in the cartoons more than the kids, unsurprisingly, every-so-often asking if anyone wanted a cup of tea or juice. He was good like that.

Steve was leant in the kitchen against the counter, watching his team through the doorway. Tony joined him, covered in motor oil after being under Laura's car, which had been acting up lately.

"You look better, despite all that," he motioned at the various stains on Tony from the oil, who just laughed softly in return.

"Yeah, painkillers will do that," he grinned.

They sat in a comfortable silence before Tony backed himself on top of the counter, swinging his legs as he did so. Watching amusedly, Steve turned to look at him.

"I've missed this, being like- like a family again," Steve admitted.

Tony quirked his lips and sighed dramatically, "Oh America's golden boy, we didn't stop being a family. Families argue and threaten to kill each other, it's all very normal."

Steve eyed the brunette dubiously, "That's not how a functional family operates, Tony."

"We're hardly functional." Tony deadpanned, before nervously chewing his lip and speaking up again.

"A functional person can just, you know, ask a person out on a date instead of kinda-" he pulled an awkward face, flailing his hands around, "-pining from afar and being kinda a jerk to the other person when they're just trying to talk to you."

"Bucky tell you that?" Steve smiled, trying very hard not to let a ridiculously goofy smile take over his face, feeling warmth flushing his cheeks and stomach. He settled the palms of his hand on the counter either side of Tony, leaning in closer.

"No - Rhodey, he's very wise. An old-soul and all that." Tony mused, gaze flittering over Steve's face, his chest, his arms.

Steve hummed in response, losing his own fight at keeping an embarrassing smile off his face. It was worth it though, when Tony let a similar one cross his features, rolling his eyes, and cupping Steve's face in his hands, cradling his head tenderly.

Steve leaned in the last few inches, pressing his smile against Tony's. They kissed slowly, intimately, and so gently, as if scared the other person would suddenly realise what was happening and jerk away.

After a few moments, it became clear neither of them had any intention to back away, and Steve pulled on Tony's hips, sliding him towards the edge of the counter and flush against his body. A few blissful minutes passed of deep, passionate kissing, when the sound of little footsteps tottered into the kitchen, before sharply turning to yell into the living room.

"Daddy you said we couldn't sit on'the counter!"

There was a pause before Clint's confused voice called back, "You can't! It's not hygienic like I told you!"

"How come they gets to do it and're been’ all gross n’ kissing as well?"

Tony and Steve just laughed as a collective shout of disbelief sounded from the kitchen, save from Bucky and Rhodey, who just hollered suggestively, whisking and howling from their positions I front of the TV.

[marksleepy]

Jaehyun - Pizza-girl & Dimple-boy

genre: fluff and other stuff idk some college!au thingy majingy word count: 5,527 plot: Yo mama ineffable mark HAHHAHHHAHAHAHAH (as you know personally I love reading your fanfics) Im gonna request something. Can you write about a pizza deliverer (a girl) not knowing she is delivering to Jaehyun’s house during his break. okay I believe your creativity from here 💕 Please write more often I will support you forever💖💖 A/N: @jaelyeoh sorry for taking 103473475638324 years ily hope this won’t be a disappointment. the ending is so gross

The smell of dough, tomato sauce, and cheese danced around in the air. You had always thought that the cheese had this stinking smell to it, but not to the point where you would barf. You were sat on the brown stool near the counter in the seemingly empty pizza parlour that your parents owned. It had been a month since you had started helping them out in delivering pizzas. You were on a three-month break from school and had been asked (correction: forced) to do something useful at the shop.

You sighed for the nth time that evening while scrolling through random apps on your phone.

“If you’re that bored, come help me with these pizzas,” Donghyuck groaned, placing pieces of pepperonis on top of the disc-like dough.

Your eyes stayed glued to the screen as you replied nonchalantly, “Shut up and do your job, Donghyuck.”

You swore you could feel him roll his eyes as he went back to what he was doing. Donghyuck was your cousin. Your parents adored him and saw him as an angel. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at that. He was nowhere near to being an angel. He was a devil. Always pulling at your hair, stealing your snacks, teasing you endlessly. What sucked was that you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents would flip if you harmed their precious Donghyuck. You loved him, of course. He just did more mean than nice things to you, so no one should blame you for doing the same to him.

“Y/N, delivery time,” your mum called from the kitchen. She appeared with two boxes of regulars and settled them on the counter. You watched as she scribbled the address down on a post-it before handing it to you. Giving the note a glance, you shoved it in your pocket and balanced the boxes on both your palms. You had the car keys between your lips, ignoring how unhygienic that was.

“Be back soon,” you called out when you were in the car that was parked out front. After fastening your seatbelt, you punched the address into the GPS and off you went. The sun was only just beginning to set, sending a pomegranate-pink glare through your windshield.

“In 300 metres, turn right. Then, your destination will be on the right,” the usual robotic female speaker announced. You were about to make a right turn when your tires hit something and the car thumped, sending you practically flying up from your seat. “Shit!” you shouted as you lost total control of the vehicle. Grabbing the wheel and slamming on the brakes, the car skidded on the road before coming to a stop. You were so glad there were no cars around to witness this.

You pushed the car door open and stepped out, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You could feel every pound of your heart, and you were shaking. You were lucky to be free from injuries. Thank God you wore your seatbelt. The car was a totally different story though. The front right tire was completely flat.

Well shit.

You popped the trunk and unfortunately, there wasn’t a spare. You remembered taking it out and throwing it in the garage, complaining that you didn’t have enough space for groceries (and shopping bags, but no one had to know that).

You almost forgot you were here to deliver pizzas. Rushing to the backseats, you grabbed the boxes and basically ran to the large brown and white house. You double-checked the address, obviously.

You rang the doorbell twice, still panting from the unexpected workout. You lifted your black and red cap, smoothing down your hair before putting it back on your head, attempting to look less dishevelled. You heard a, “Coming!”, and a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a tall blonde male dressed in sweats. Murmurs from the television could be heard from inside, and you saw a glimpse of three other people in the house. This boy standing in front of you, however, looked insanely familiar. And good-looking. You must’ve been staring for too long because he said, “Excuse me?”

You face grew red with embarrassment. “Oh, uh, sorry. Here you go.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he suddenly spoke, his eyes scanning you like a radar. You knew it! But you just shrugged.

He looked down at the ground before looking back at you again, his eyes all lit up. “I’ve seen you on campus!”

You mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. Was he called Jaeyung? Or was it Jaehyung? Before you could ask, a voice coming from inside interrupted you. “Dude, what’s taking you so long?”

This Jaehyung guy—you assumed—turned his head a little and shouted, “Give me a second.”

“Anyway, $23 please,” you stated. He dug around his pocket and handed you the exact. “See you around,” he smiled a little. You nodded and walked down the steps, only to realise your car tyre was still flat. You felt your jeans pockets for your phone to call your parents—or Donghyuck, only to become aware of the fact that you had left it back at the pizza parlour. Of course you did. The moment when you needed that device the most. Of course it wasn’t with you. You sighed in frustration.

“Are you OK?” the same guy from just now asked. What was he still doing out here? You turned to look at him, face burning from embarrassment the second time since you saw him. He was no longer holding onto the pizza boxes. “Um, it’s no big deal. I just need a phone to call my parents,”—you paused and took a deep breath from talking too fast—“I have a, uh, flat tyre.”

He looked at you in a silly way. “You can use mine.”

You accepted his phone gratefully. The screen lit up and you saw a photo of a girl beaming at the camera. He had his arms wrapped around her. Woah. Of course he had a girlfriend. You’d got to stop it with all the of courses. You excused yourself and started to dial, and someone picked up three rings later.

“What,” Donghyuck said.

“Brat, try sounding a little more friendly,” you frowned.

“Speak for yourself,” he spat. “And what do you want?”

“Why are you answering Dad’s phone? Tell him I have a flat tyre and ask him to come ASAP.”

“OK,” he said, ignoring your first question. “Whose phone are you calling from? You left yours on the counter.”

“Someone. Now hurry up.” You were about to hang up when you remembered. “Oh, and the spare is in the garage.” You heard an audible sigh from the other end of the line as you read out the address to him.

Walking back to Jae-something, you thanked him for lending you his phone. “It’s not a problem. Do you want me to wait out here with you?” he offered.

You shook your head and held up both your hands, palms facing him. “It’s fine. Go hang out with your friends.”

He looked at you hesitantly. “Alright,” he said before disappearing behind the door.

You walked back to your car and sat on the curb near it. Resting your chin on your knees, you watched as a car or two race by you, entirely oblivious to the situation you were in. It wasn’t like you wanted them to notice you, anyway.

The sun had completely sunk by the time your dad—and someone else—arrived. The truck was pulled over behind your car, and your dad stepped out from his seat next to the driver, looking a little more tired than usual. You realised soon that that someone was your uncle, who had so conveniently stopped by the pizza parlour to have dinner.

“You OK, kid?” your dad asked, popping the trunk and lifting out a car tyre. Your uncle gave you a small smile and you waved at him. You rushed over to help your dad, but it looked like he didn’t need any. So you just stood awkwardly beside him, giving him a bashful smile. “Yeah. My car isn’t though.” The slightest whiff of smoke made you turn your head towards the direction of where your uncle was standing. He had a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his trousers. You fixed your gaze on your dad again.

“I’ll get this fixed in a jiffy. Why not you get Uncle to drive you back and help Mum out in cleaning the kitchen?”

“Alright.” You climbed into the truck and turned the knob to find a different radio station. The seats were so worn out it looked as if rats nibbled through them. Your uncle climbed in the driver’s seat after discarding his cigarette butt. Although this truck was old, he treasured it and refused to get a new one. Listening to the DJ talk about some of the latest tunes, both of you were soon on the way back to the pizza parlour.

Nothing particular happened during the next few days. You waited for your parents and Donghyuck to finish up the orders before leaving to deliver them to people’s front doors and taking money for those orders. There were plenty of pizzas to deliver today. You drove to a few houses, relieved that your tyres did not screw themselves up. As you arrived at the last address on the list, you got out of your car. Pizza boxes in hand, you climbed up the gentle steps leading to the same brown and white house from that day. The sky was a subtle hint of purple, notifying the coming sunset.

You rang the doorbell twice and waited. The same shoes from your previous visit were left messily thrown about the doorstep. The door opened a little while later, and you saw the same guy from the time you brought pizza here. Well duh. He clearly lived here.

“Hello again,” Jae-something grinned. Dimple-boy, you decided. You were going to call him that until the moment you knew his name. The night was getting dark and the air brought a new chill to it. You smiled back. You thought he was just going to take his pizzas, pay, and leave. But he had other plans.

“How long have you been working?“ he asked. You tugged at your red sleeve uncomfortably. He had guests over. You should probably reply quickly and leave.

“Since the break. I’m just helping my parents out.”

Dimple-boy looked at you in surprise. “Your parents made these? They are amazing.”

You laughed, abashed. “On behalf of them, thank you.”

He shook his head and smiled, revealing his adorable dimples. He pushed the money into your hands, telling you to keep the change. He stepped back and was about to push the door close when he remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Jaehyun. I’ll see you around?”

You nodded and you face quirked into a grin after you turned around and walked towards your car.

So that was his name.

The three-month break was over—fast. You trudged to the entrance of the school, arms loaded with completed (and incomplete) assignments. You waited on the corner where you and your friend usually met before classes, only to receive a text from her minutes later telling you she fell sick after coming back from Japan. You ended up walking to class alone.

After three and a half boring hours of lectures came lunchtime. You tried looking for your other friends you usually had lunch with but remembered they had competitions and activities they were busy with. You considered skipping lunch. Your stomach growled in refusal.

Joining the queue, you squinted at the menu in front of you and contemplated what to have. Kimchi stew looked great.

You found an empty table in the crowded canteen and sat down. Students sauntered past you, chatting with one another, laughing at something, but everything became volume zero when someone placed his metal tray of food on the table and claimed the space on the plastic seat in front of you.

“Jaehyun?” you blurted. Your hand immediately stopped stirring the stew.

“Hi Y/N,” Jaehyun greeted you, giving you a boyish grin.

You looked around and spotted a few of the guys he always hung out with. They were a few tables away, so it was impossible that he had sat down at the wrong table.

You pointed in that direction discreetly and asked, “Aren’t you supposed to sit there with them?”

“I don’t have to,” he said, shoving a huge spoonful of rice into his mouth.

You munched on some kimchi as quietly as you could. “Why are you sitting here?”

Jaehyun stared at his bowl of soup. “To keep you company.” His ears were two shades away from a tomato.

You resisted the urge to grin now that he was looking into your eyes. “I enjoy my own company.”

He leaned back, clutching his chest. “Ouch.”

You let out a laugh. “Anyways, it’s OK. Really.” You turned to look at his friends. “You should go back. People might misunderstand.”

“A guy and a girl can have lunch together as friends.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but heard a recognisable voice. Donghyuck appeared at your table with a sandwich. You wished the ground would just open up and swallow you up right then.

“You know Jaehyun?” he asked a little too loudly for your liking.

You side glanced Donghyuck. “You know him?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a huge bite. “He’s my senior in basketball.”

“I feel so old,” Jaehyun commented.

Donghyuck was staring into your soul. “Are you two dating?”

You choked on your kimchi stew. “What the hell? I just delivered pizzas to him twice.” You wiped your lips with the back of your hand and then on Donghyuck’s sleeve. “Dude! This is going to stain,” he complained.

Jaehyun was watching the two of you. “You guys seem close.”

You and Donghyuck looked at him. “He’s my cousin.”

You returned back to drinking your soup as Donghyuck stood up. “I’m gonna go sit with my friends. Bye, Jaehyun.”

“Bye!” you yelled after him. He looked back and sniggered. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Sorry about what he said earlier,” you said quietly. A flush of heat crept across your face.

“What did he say?” Jaehyun asked, the corners of his lips lifting.

You recalled seeing that wallpaper of him and a girl on his phone. “About us dating. You have a girlfriend, right?”

His smile disappeared as soon as it came. “Er, yeah.”

Both of you spent the remaining lunchtime eating in silence, and you only bid him farewell quietly when your class was about to start.

The week had finally ended. You ambled down the pavement on a Friday evening, happy to be out of school. Surprisingly, you only had reading assignments to work on over the weekends. Humming as you walked, you soon reached your parents’ pizza parlour. As you settled your backpack on the white plastic chair next to you, you wound your earpiece into a circle and shoved it into the front pocket of your bag. You collapsed on the chair, thankful to be in an air-conditioned place. Not many people visited to have the pizza right on the spot. This place was pretty small after all. Four round tables, two chairs for two tables, four for the remaining.

“Mum, Dad, it’s me,” you called out.

“How was school?” your mum shouted from the kitchen. “Dad’s out to deliver pizzas.”

“Great.”

At the sound of the little bell hung at the top of the wall near the door, you glanced up from your phone as two people walked in.

Jaehyun focused his attention on his phone, his friend beside him looking around with little interest until he noticed you. He proceeded to jab Jaehyun with his finger.

“What?” he grunted. His eyes seemed to light up when he saw you. “Oh, hey Y/N. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “Well, my parents do own this place.”

Your mum appeared at the door leading to the kitchen. “Hello,” she said with glee. “Having anything in particular?”

“One large pepperoni and three sodas, please,” Jaehyun answered.

You pulled your books out, attempting to look busy. Jaehyun started chatting with his friend and you eventually got to know his name.

Your mum came out with the orders and placed them on the round table beside yours. Jaehyun placed one can of soda on your table and went back to talking to Doyoung. You mumbled a “thanks” as your ears stole back to the conversation beside you.

The small bell near the door jingled once more. Three pairs of eyes were fixed in that direction.

“Hi Aunt!” Donghyuck literally screamed. “Oh, and you guys.”

“Donghyuckie!” your mum squealed from the kitchen. “Thanks for visiting. You’re such a dear.”

You eyeballed Donghyuck. “You should get my mum to adopt you.”

“Aw, but I don’t want you as my sister.”

You would’ve punched him right there and then, but Jaehyun was there, and there was no way you were going to be violent. Donghyuck sat his sweaty self down beside Jaehyun and stole one slice of pizza.

After several minutes of listening to chewing and sipping, Jaehyun said, “Y/N, wanna come watch the basketball game next Friday? I’m playing.”

You looked at him as if he grew another head. “Oh, sure. I have nothing on that day. I think.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “And you never agreed when I asked.”

You felt the heat on your face. “I went once.”

“Yeah, that was because I told you there was going to be free food.”

You face grew hotter. “Shut up, Donghyuck!”

He glanced at Jaehyun then back at you, smirking. Don’t you dare, you mouthed. Donghyuck sighed dramatically. You looked at Jaehyun, expecting to see a scowl on his face because you were clearly only interested in food. But he was laughing silently, hand covering his mouth shyly like he wasn’t supposed. Just looking at him, you wouldn’t be stunned to find butterflies fluttering about and petals falling around him.

Stop it. He had a girlfriend.

You wished he didn’t, though.

It was another cool Wednesday night. You were on your way to Jaehyun’s house. No, not to hang out. You wished. Your hands felt toasty from the warm pizza boxes. You were a few metres away from his doorstep when a girl barged her way out of his house. Her tears glistened under the street lamps. As she opened the car door, she wiped them off her face, swearing like a trooper. You watched as the car got smaller and smaller in the distance until it completely disappeared.

Ding-dong!

The door creaked open. “Y/N,” Jaehyun said. He wasn’t smiling tonight.

You didn’t expect you would be delivering pizzas to him tonight. You were just studying at the round table back at the pizza shop when you overheard your mum mumbling the address you almost knew by heart as she wrote it down. All you wanted was to see Jaehyun. You didn’t want to know why.

His eyes searched the floor like he was looking for a coin. They were soon glazed with a glossy layer of tears. Brows furrowed, he looked so lost.

“She…” he choked back on tears. “She cheated on me.”

Your heart sank and you felt tiny knots forming in your stomach. You drew a deep breath and grabbed his hand, leading him to his couch. Placing the pizza boxes down on his coffee table, you let him cry. He wept silently, shoulders shaking violently. Do you hug him? Perhaps pat him on the back? You thought no more because he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer, crying into your neck. You wrapped your shaky arms around him, patting his back softly. His sorrow was like an infectious disease.

His cries died down after a while. He fumbled with the piece of tissue you had offered. “Sorry you had to see me in this state,” he croaked.

You shook your head. “It’s totally fine.” You gave him a tiny smile, and there was an indistinct trace of a smile on his lips. “I’m sorry. For what happened,” you stuttered.

“At least I’m no longer with a cheater,” he said bitterly. “I don’t even know why she was crying. To make me feel bad? To make me believe that it was all an accident? That it was merely a mistake? The relationship wasn’t working out anyway.”

He looked as if he was about to cry again. So you rubbed soothing circles on his back, calming him down. There was a moment of silence until he stood up, eyes puffy and red from crying. “You’re the first person to see me like this, actually.”

“I feel honoured,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He grinned that dimpled grin. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Sleep early, alright?”

He nodded, walking you to the door. He stood at the entrance and watched as you climbed into the car, waving until you could no longer see him.

It was Friday—the day of the basketball game. You told yourself you were only going because you felt guilty for turning Donghyuck down countless of times, but you knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You spent the whole day fidgeting in your seat, wishing time would pass faster. Your friends even shot you curious looks, wondering why you were so squirmish. You could only manage a sheepish smile.

After what felt like years, lectures were over. You threw on a simple jersey, shorts and a basic pair of white sneakers you had brought from home in the changing rooms. The game was starting in five minutes, but you took your time, not wanting to show up too early. After fixing your hair in the mirror, you finally stepped out of the stuffy changing rooms, a sudden gust of wind messing up your hair. You groaned and headed to the hall. Who were you even trying to impress?

You searched the crowd for someone—anyone, in fact. You saw Doyoung sitting at the fifth row, sipping on some juice and munching on popcorn. You ran up the steps and plumped down next to him.

“Oh, hey. Y/N,” he said between bites. He tilted the tub of popcorn at you and you gladly took some, throwing them in your mouth. “Thanks.”

The two of you observed the crowd. Laughter filled the hall. “Here to support Jaehyun?” Doyoung asked, mixing the popcorn around for the dark yellow ones.

You stared at his soft blonde hair. “Uh, no. I’m here for Donghyuck.”

He stopped playing with his popcorn and gazed at you, one brow raised. “It’s only seniors today.”

You felt your insides churn. “I knew that.”

He smirked knowingly before returning to his search for over-caramelised popcorn.

Donghyuck slumped down next to you, making you the main ingredient of this boy-sandwich. He reached over to grab Doyoung’s drink and took a sip.

“Ahh… This is heaven,” he sighed.

“You’re welcome?” Doyoung hissed, snatching his drink back. Donghyuck pouted as a referee blew his whistle.

You watched as a couple of basketballers jogged out from behind a curtain, waiting for a particular person. There he was. His biceps. You blinked a few times and focused on other basketballers. However, you’d always find yourself staring back at him. He scanned the crowd and a smile spread across his face when he saw you. Or maybe you were delusional. You gave him a small wave and felt a warm glow of satisfaction when he waved back. You wished you’d went back to fix your hair.

Jaehyun ran around the basketball court, catching the ball, dribbling, and passing it on to his teammates. The game was so fast paced, and you clenched your fist as you darted a glance at Jaehyun. Suddenly, the referee blew his whistle. One of the team members from the other team committed a foul! You rejoiced silently and watched as Jaehyun represented his team for the free throws. The hall grew quiet, some shushing others. He raised the ball above his head, shot, and… Scored! The crowd cheered madly and you grabbed Donghyuck, shaking him.

“Ow!” he whined. “Loosen your grip!”

The crowd went silent again as Jaehyun dribbled the ball on the spot. Everyone was tense as they waited. You held your breath as he raised the ball again. Score! People around you stood up wildly excited. Doyoung spilled a little of his popcorn but he seemed unaware.

“Awesome,” he yelled, although no one sitting in the first row of the bleachers could hear him, let alone the players on the court.

The game continued on for 30 more minutes. The fact that Jaehyun was still on the losing team caused you to be on edge. The clock flashed 30 in red. The team only had 30 seconds to score a goal to win.

26… 25…

One teammate threw the ball to Jaehyun and he ran while dribbling, before throwing it to another team member. However, the opposing team got hold of the ball. You watched in horror as the ball was passed to the other end. The opposing team’s shooter got ready to shoot, but missed!

15… 14…

The ball was now passed on to Jaehyun’s teammate, then to another, then to Jaehyun himself.

10… 9…

Jaehyun jumped and threw the ball. It rolled on the edge of the basket and you heard Donghyuck let out a piercing shriek.

4… 3…

Please go in. Please go in.

Score!

You shot up from your seat, cheering hysterically. Everyone around you was clapping and shouting. You watched as the other team shook hands with Jaehyun’s team. He suddenly looked to the direction of the bleachers, beaming at you as he waved. You and the boys to your left and right gave him thumbs ups. The whistle was blown and people started leaving. You lightly pushed Donghyuck towards the exit and walked out behind, with Doyoung following close.

The three of you waited outside the school, observing those leaving the place. After some time, Jaehyun strolled out with his teammates, laughing and high-fiving one another. He waved goodbye to them and walked towards you, towel drying his sweaty hair.

“You were on fire, Jaehyun!” Donghyuck began, grasping his hand. “I’m gonna train hard from now on.”

Jaehyun flicked his forehead. “You should’ve been training hard since you joined.”

Doyoung threw one arm around Jaehyun’s shoulder. “But really, that was impressive,” he said.

You saw Doyoung and Donghyuck sharing a glance before looking at you. “Y/N, don’t you have anything to say?” Donghyuck asked, smirking.

Your cheeks burned hot as you stared at your sneakers. “Um, you were good.”

Donghyuck punched you on the shoulder. “Just good?”

This brat.

“You seemed way too excited for something described to be just good,” Doyoung added. You made a mental note to never help Doyoung or Donghyuck, ever.

Jaehyun, noticeably feeling uneasy, muttered, “Guys stop it. You’re making her feel uncomfortable.”

Those two devils threw their arms over each other’s shoulders, walking off shouting, “No fun!” Doyoung was at least four years older than Donghyuck, but they were acting like those best friends you see in kindergarten. You shook your head, sighing softly. Jaehyun smiled at you apologetically and asked if you wanted to have dinner together. You gladly agreed to.

All competitions were over. Students visited the library more often. You’d tried looking for an empty table in there, but to no avail. You spotted Jaehyun (more like he spotted you first) in the hallway a few days after the game. You stopped to chat, both complaining about the amount of assignments given.

“So…” he started. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing much, I guess,” you replied. You wished you were less boring. It was times like this you wished you were those who would be like “Oh, I’m going to this party at XXX’s place” or “I’m going for a fancy dinner”.

Jaehyun didn’t seem to be bothered. “I heard about this café that opened recently and they serve good coffee and cakes. Do you wanna go with me this Saturday?”

“Oh, OK,” you said. Way to go with that apathetic answer, Y/N.

So you gave him your phone number.

“Shoot, gotta dash,” he said. You looked at the time on your phone screen and rushed off to your next lecture, thinking of Jaehyun the whole time.

(Unknown number) hey :) it’s jaehyun [8:46 PM]

You hi :) hold on let me save your number [8:50 PM]

Jaehyun did you put a smiley beside my name like i did to yours? [8:51 PM]

You hold on… [8:51 PM] done [8:51 PM]

Jaehyun 😊 yay :) how were classes today? [8:52 PM]

You ok i guess. [8:52 PM] had a surprise test today :( [8:52 PM]

Jaehyun 😊 man those suck. i have this 30-page report due next month [8:53 PM] im only on page 8 [8:53 PM]

You well good luck [8:53 PM] you’re gonna need lots of it [8:54 PM] 😛 [8:54 PM]

Jaehyun 😊 thanks 🙃 [8:55 PM] anyways is 12pm at the entrance of school ok? the café’s near school [8:56 PM]

You sounds great! [8:57 PM]

Jaehyun 😊 :( [8:57 PM] :)* oops [8:57 PM] im going to go type my report if i want to submit it on time [8:57 PM] see you soon! sleep early [8:58 PM]

You see you! [8:59 PM]

You may or may not had spent two hours picking out the perfect outfit for this ‘date’. Was it a date? You wanted to spend Friday night choosing your outfit so you had more time. Plus, you could ask your friends if the outfit you had chosen was too wild or too plain. But no, you spent Friday night freaking out and Saturday morning panicking. You eventually wore this pastel pink knee-length skirt paired with a white top with sleeves that reached your elbows. You wiggled your toes in your white sandals as you waited for Jaehyun. It was only 11:50 a.m. Jaehyun ultimately came running towards you.

“Did you wait long? I’m sorry,” he apologised.

“It’s OK. I just reached, actually,” you assured him. You took a good look at what he was wearing. A large baby pink sweater with a pair of casual grey trousers. Adorable, you must admit.

“Let’s go,” he said eagerly, grabbing your hand. You tensed up immediately. Your face was definitely on fire.

He finally let go of your hand once the two of you entered the café. After placing your orders, the pair of you found a table leaning against the glass window. You looked fixedly at the table, inhaling the inviting smell of freshly-made coffee. You couldn’t think straight, and you came to realise you had been chewing on the insides of your cheeks when you tasted blood. Later, the cakes and coffees were placed on the table. Your cake looked so aesthetically pleasing, it calmed you down a bit.

“I actually have something to tell you today,” Jaehyun suddenly spoke as he cut his slice of cake with a fork.

You fixed your gaze on him. “Is it bad?”

“Not really,” he said. “It depends on how you see it.”

“Tell me.”

He traced the patterns on his coffee mug. “Um… So you know I broke up with my ex a while ago. Or she broke up with me. Never mind, that’s not the main point.”

You nodded and urged him to continue.

“I feel like she wasn’t the only “bad” person in the relationship,” he went on, using his fingers to do the inverted commas when he said ‘bad’.

You tilted your head slightly to the left. “What do you mean?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, ears a tint of pink. “What I’m saying is… I was interested in you when I was still in a relationship.”

He took your silence as a signal to go on. “I was just drawn to you. I felt like I needed to see you every day.”

You felt your cheeks warming up and your throat getting tight. “Me too.”

He failed to hide the shock on his face. “You feel the same way? I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t express stuff well,” you admitted sheepishly.

You rested his hand atop yours, squeezing it gently. “You stole a pizza my heart, Pizza-girl.”

You smiled despite how cheesy (no pun intended) that was. “You too, Dimple-boy.”

[straight-outta-the-asylum]

Prank Master  (Dean Ambrose x Reader)

Finally! *mini-celebration bc exams are done and I can finally write again* I’m not dead! This one took a while, let me tell you, but I had a lot of fun doing it! It was requested by @greeneyedtrickster so sorry to keep you waiting! <3 The prompts used in this one from this list are 19, 111, and 114. Just funny, wholesome Dean pranking! Little bit of swearing, oops.

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“Prank master? You?” Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over at you, smirking. “Yes! It’s a viable option, for me to be a prank master. Why wouldn’t it?” You laughed back and shot him a “Really?” look. “Obviously, you’ve never met me. I’m the prank master in this relationship.” “Uh-huh. Okay, sure.” You grinned and set your mind to scheming while Dean talked about his past “best” pranks. ---------------- “You realize he’s gonna be pissed, right?” Becky asked as you got to dragging the small bag of flour in place backstage. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” “You didn’t have to help, Becky.” You pointed out. “But I did want to, so…” She shrugged and gave up. “So how is this going to work again?” “Dean walks by, you splash him with water, and I dump the flour over his head. I’ll show him who the real prank master is.” You grinned and giggled a bit while Becky shook her head in amusement, though it tried to come off as disapproval. She would’ve replied but the sound of feet coming down the hallway stopped her and you both got in place, her holding the bucket on one side and you with the flour on the other side, out of sight. “Dunno why she’s on her phone half the time when she doesn’t answer it.” You hear Dean’s mumbling as he approached where you texted him to meet. Becky caught your gaze and nodded before running out in front of him. His confused greeting was met with a splash from her cup of water, and while he was in the middle of cussing in more confusion, you ran forward and flung a few handfuls of flour at him. “Surprise!” You and Becky both stood back, giggling silently at your handiwork. He looked like a statue with it coated in a thick layer, most of it on his face, some on his chest area. “What the fuck?” He spat out flour on the edges of lips and blinked open his eyes, trying to clear the sticky flour. They focused quickly on your faces and flashed with recognition. “You…” He looked liked he was torn between getting upset and laughing his ass off. “I’m gonna get you.” “Shit!” Becky shouted and dragged you by the arm, both of you still laughing as Dean quickly chased after, shouting. “That’s gonna harden if you don’t get to it!” You shrieked as Dean caught up and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re helpin’ me with it.” He grinned and picked you up by the waist as you giggled and tried kicking out. Becky gave her own grin and ran off while you were occupied. “Every woman for herself!” “Now that you’ve been abandoned by your partner,” Dean put you down but reacted quickly enough to pick you up again, this time over his shoulder. He seemed immune to your half-hearted struggles, “it’s time to face the music.” You groaned as the kicks got less forceful, feeling like a sack of potatoes. “Don’t, please. I’m too young and pretty.” “Don’t worry, it won’t be today.” The casualness of it struck you as extremely funny, but you also caught the meaning. “Ah, shit.” ---------------- Nothing happened for a few weeks, but that didn’t stop you from being less wary about the whole incident. It was almost like you had to grow a second pair of eyes in the back of your head to anticipate everything. Every time Dean came around he seemed casual enough, not showing any signs of being different, or planning anything, but you knew he was crafty and could’ve had something up his sleeve at any time. The only time you could let your guard down was during and after matches, since those were the only places Dean couldn’t get near you. “Hey, how was it?” He grinned and threw you a towel as you walked backstage. You were still sweating and felt more than a little sore after the whooping you went through. “Exhausting, as usual. I keep forgetting Naomi can put up a fight.” You stretched and wiped your face before trying to go for your back. “Damn it.” You whined and tried to massage your neck at the twinge. “I’ll rub it.” He was almost acting like a considerate boyfriend, getting up and showing concern. Almost. “Oh no, no, no. I’m not an idiot, Ambrose. I’m not letting you anywhere near my back.” You shook your head and immediately became cautious, eyeing him. He rolled his eyes and held his hands up. “Is it so wrong that I want to take care of my insanely hot girlfriend when she’s in dire need of affection?” “Yes.” “C’mon, doll, it’s not that bad. What am I going to do? You really think I’m that bad to prank you when you’re already hurtin’? Who do ya think I am?” As much as you tried to avoid it, he shot you the damn puppy eyes he was so fond of using against you. You felt your self-resolve getting smaller and smaller until groaning out loud and dropping the towel. “Fine, fine! Just do it quick.” “Your wish is my command.” He smiled and quickly made his way behind your back. “Besides, I got this fancy new shit from online, supposed to be cleansing stuff for the pores or something.” You heard a packet rip behind you and tensed up instinctively, but a nice smell made its way through the room and you relaxed. “Are those roses?” You questioned as he sprinkled some on his hand. “Supposed to be the scent, I think.” His hands gently applied pressure to your neck and you melted. “Oh Dean, you always give the best massages.” You sighed as he worked the muscles, rubbing up and down. His hands moved under your shirt quickly, squeezing and rubbing up and down your back. Your neck was left tingling where he had touched. “But why’d ya keep the tape on your hands?” “I just forgot to take them off.” He shrugged, hands moving to the front now, this time squeezing and pulling you a bit closer as they slip up under your shirt. Your whole back was at this point beginning to tingle dully, your neck becoming a little hot, but it was put in the back of your mind as he inched to your breasts, giving one last rub down. “Shit, Dean,” you sighed before feeling him pull back, leaving you expecting for something more as he walked to the trash, peeling off the tape. “Why’d you stop?” You frowned and adjusted your bra, rotating your shoulders. Your nerves were on end, the itch becoming almost painful as you started scratching your neck. “’Cause I ran out of powder.” The Cheshire Cat grin on his face only grew wider. “How’re ya feeling?” “I’m-” You cut yourself off as everything started making sense. “Oh God. That’s your “I Did Something Bad” face! Was that fucking itching powder?!” Your back and front started screaming for attention you couldn’t give at once. “Where’d you get that?!” “A prank master never reveals his secrets or his accomplices, fledgling. The boys are innocent until proven guilty.” “We’ll see about that!” You huffed and stomped out the door to his laughs. “Everyone’s on my list!” “Stop itching and it’ll go away!” He called back as you groaned and continued off down the hallway, mumbling. “One of these days…” You schemed for the next time he pissed you off or pulled this again. “He’s lucky he’s so fucking cute…”

---------------- Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! As your friendly neighborhood writer would say, please tell me if you enjoyed it, a thumbs up would make my absolute day. Requests are open if you want a particular fanfic written! Thanks for reading, again! *Bayley hugs*