#i really do frequently bounce ideas for this AU in my head

[izzythehutt]

Trick or Treat!

I regularly think about the Black Fairy inserted into the Neverland Arc OUAT AU that I started and never finished. Just like....the Dark Family Dynamics. The Black Fairy shaming Pan for making Rumple neurotic in front of the Charmings + Regina. Neal being traumatized.

[mytardisisparked]

Tagged to do this Fic Writer Q+A by @more-better-words! Thanks!

1. Why do you write fanfic?

Because if I don't do something creative on a semi-frequent basis I will shrivel up like a little raisin.

2. Which of your posted stories do you think about the most, even though the story is “finished”?

I think about "And Still, The Sea Is Salt" a lot. It's a Pikeuna fic which, while I still ship them, I don't really think about them frequently these days. But this fic is still, IMO, some of my best work and so I think of it often.

The other fic I think about a lot is "The Ghost of You," which is an MSR fic. It's another one that feels like some of my best work. I feel like this, and "Salt" are fics that I am constantly trying to replicate in terms of quality.

3. If you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

Take your time. Chew on it. Let it simmer.

4. What’s your relationship to fic stats?

I love looking at comments but, otherwise, I don't pay attention to stats. I always appreciate comments and kudos and bookmarks but I'm not aiming for a certain number or anything. I appreciate them on an individual basis, I guess.

5. Is there a pairing or scenario or friendship you miss writing? If so, why? If not, why not?

Hmmmmm sometimes I miss writing JC or Obitine, but I am totally at the mercy of my hyperfixations so I am usually content writing whatever pairing or friendship I am currently obsessed with.

6. What motivates you to write?

The gremlins in my head. Also whenever one of my writing or art buddies goes "hey that's a good idea" when I pitch a fic to them.

7. Why do you write for the fandom(s) that you write for?

I'm currently writing for the X-Files because it makes me feel insane. I also still love writing for the Voyager Threshold!AU because it's SUCH a tasty story and it's full of great people to work on said story with.

8. If you’re stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

I usually let it simmer for a bit and then come back to it. If that doesn't work I typically go paw at @singeart's door and bounce ideas around with her.

9. What do you wish people knew about comments?

I cherish every single comment - no matter how long or short - like someone just left me a vast fortune in their will. Also PLEASE don't stop yourself from leaving comments on older fics. Getting a comment on a fic I wrote 4 years ago is like getting willed a vast fortune and then finding out it grew a ton of interest at the bank. Fic writers love comments on old fics.

10. Maybe there’s a question you wish had been on here. What’s that question (and answer)?

Will you wear wigs? Maybe.

No-Pressure tagging: @singeart, @thursdayinspace, @jellybeansarecool, and anyone else who wants to because I am having a heck of a time figuring out who has and has not been tagged to do this lol

[tar-maitime]

joy, or relaxation, or simple pleasure

Rating: G Characters: Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekano Additional: modern AU, first meeting, meet-cute WC: .75k

For @russingonweek Day 1 - Light Prompt - Family

“Hey - you’re Maedhros, right?”

Maedhros turned from where she was trying to sort through a makeshift lost-and-found, to see a man roughtly her age whom she thought she recognized as Fingolfin’s oldest son. “Yes, that’s me. What did you need?” 

Inwardly, she dearly hoped it didn’t have to do with some familial crisis - but given that they hadn’t even been at this “family getaway” to celebrate Grandpa Finwe’s eightieth birthday for two whole days yet and her father had already said some regrettable things, she wasn’t terribly optimistic.

“Oh, nothing really. Just to say hi - I don’t think we’ve really met. Fingon Vanyaran, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Maedhros reflexively shook it, noting that he didn’t seem fazed by her using her left hand. “And to ask if you needed any help; it seems like you’ve been run off your feet since we all got here.”

Maedhros blinked in surprise. She hadn’t realized anyone had noticed. “Well, I’ve been sorting out the things I know belong to my brothers, and there’s a pile over there of stuff I couldn’t figure out.” She gestured. “If you want to look through for anything that’s yours or your siblings’, you’re more than welcome.”

Fingon smiled agreeably and started sorting; the pile he created had mostly blue paraphernalia, but a few random white items as well. “So how are you liking the vacation so far?” he asked at length. “I’d hope you haven’t spent all of it cleaning up after people.”

“Not literally, no,” Maedhros agreed. Once her brothers hit a certain age, she and her mother had formed a united front and refused to be their maid; her current task was more for stress relief than anything else. “Figuratively, well...”

She trailed off, searching for the proper words, and Fingon diplomatically supplied, “Your father is...interesting.”

Maedhros huffed slightly. “You can come right out and say that he took it too far earlier. With the bit about your side of the family not being real family because your dad and Finarfin are his stepbrothers.”

“Well...”

“The only explanation I can offer,” Maedhros added, “is that he hadn’t had coffee yet. We usually try to keep him away from volatile topics until the caffeine kicks in and gives him a filter.”

“That wasn’t really what I meant,” Fingon cut in. “I was talking about how he took apart the toaster and the garbage disposal and made a trash-eating robot. To be honest, I didn’t really mind that he said we weren’t family. I was hoping you’d agree with him.”

Maedhros let Tyelpe’s baby toy slip from her suddenly slack grasp. It bounced against the tabletop and began to emit an irritating, off-key tune before she automatically swatted it silent. “What?”

“Well, because...so that I could ask you out,” Fingon said, all in a rush, and then looked as though he wished he hadn’t.

That expression was the only reason Maedhros wasn’t convinced she’d heard him incorrectly. “What?” she repeated, just in case.

But instead of saying something that would make much more sense, Fingon squared his shoulders and assumed a determined expression. “I was thinking about asking you out,” he reiterated. “On a date. If you were interested.”

Ah. That brought them to the next question, then. “Why?” Maedhros was aware that, presented properly, she was a catch: pretty, professional, and put-together, and very good at making people forget about the missing hand. But she hadn’t exactly been bringing any of that to bear on this trip; she hadn’t been thinking of impressing anyone that way.

Fingon shrugged. “I wanted to.”

“You wanted to ask out the girl from the large, unruly, frequently rude family headed up by your step-uncle,” Maedhros said disbelievingly. “The girl currently picking through her relatives’ stray belongings - literally single-handedly - because this is her idea of taking a break from wrangling the aforementioned insane family?”

Fingon gave her a grin that somehow managed to be a bit reproachful. “I want to ask out the frankly gorgeous girl with truly stunning levels of competence who’s probably the main reason no one’s maimed anyone else yet on this trip. That’s you, by the way.”

“I...”

From somewhere in the distance, a crash resounded, followed by yelling. “Let’s get through this birthday reunion nonsense first. If everyone’s still alive and not in the hospital at the end of it, I’ll think about it.”

She took off towards the commotion, Fingon at her side. “If I help you make sure nobody dies or gets injured, will that make a stronger case for a yes?” he inquired. 

“It couldn’t hurt.” Maedhros tilted her head, listening. “Sounds like one of mine and one of yours. Come on.”

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Simple Things]

For Day 29 of Carry on Countdown 23, Cherry @carryon-countdown

Basil and Simon share a picnic in the park

Rated T for language & vague reference to shit childhoods.

This is the final of the Nurse/Lawyer AU. Enjoy~ 🖤 [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4]

⋆｡˚

“Why cherry scones?” Basil asks, his head on my lap, my spare hand running through his long, dark hair while the other reaches into our picnic basket and cracks off another bit of scone to feed him, and then myself.

I hum and press a kiss to the point of his widow’s peak. “It’s not that complicated, they’re just good.”

He reaches up to stroke a hand soft over the side of my neck and I lean into the touch instinctively. “No nostalgia?”

He doesn’t say it, but I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s noticed a bit how I’ll get just a tad bit weepy when I’m making them. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s noticed how much it means to me that he always gets ingredients for more of them whenever he does the grocery shopping. “I suppose,” I admit, tugging at a stray strand of his hair, “There’s a little nostalgia.”

Baz’s hands are so soft against my neck, so gentle and soothing, he looks so soft like this. We don’t do this sort of thing often. I work too much, he works too much. Days spent in local parks having picnics and lingering just aren’t exactly in the cards for us, but we’ve been making more time for them. He’s taken me on a beach day recently too, but this one was my idea.

“Tell me about it?” Baz asks as I tug on that stray strand of hair again, soothing over it immediately after. “If you want to.”

I nod, still thinking about the sentiment of the park a little bit. It’s a park I used to frequent with Penny, back when she’d been living in the UK too. Baz knows that part, I’d told him that much when I’d planned our little date. When we’d first gotten here, we’d even snapped a couple of selfies that I could send over her way. Or well, really I’d done the snapping of selfies. Baz just sort of quirked his lips for them. He looked nice though. Baz always looked nice in our photos.

Baz also doesn’t send texts like “our old haunting grounds!! I miss you!!” to anyone, really.

He texts a bit like an old man. No emoji, proper punctuation, very little by way of abbreviations or shorthand. I think he mostly uses voice-to-text, which makes sense. His hands are always busy. I kind of think it’s cute.

“Simon?”

Right, we were talking.

“You know how Pen and I used to come here?” I start, and he nods, not really needing the reminder from just this morning. “We used to come here with stolen scones from the boarding school kitchens. I just used to shovel armfulls into my back and ditch and end up all over with them. It was sort of all I ate back then, but honestly… it was the first food I really liked in my childhood.”

Baz knows about my childhood, about how I bounced from foster to foster, from group home to group home. My non-existent concept of family, my struggle with deep relationships and trustworthy adults. Somehow I kept running into the problematic sort in my childhood. But Baz knows all that already. I don’t need to get into it.

He pokes at my chin gently before leaning up slightly to get his own bit of scone, feeding me another bite back. “Who taught you to make them?”

“Ahh…” I think I can feel myself flushing, “I sort of… shilled together the recipe a little bit at a time. I made a lot of mistakes. I may have destroyed at least three baking sheets in the process.”

“Simon,” Baz sounds utterly disbelieving. He looks it too. I have to laugh about it. He should know by know what a danger I can be to common household objects. “Simon Snow, you did not bullshit together a recipe when google exists.”

“I did,” I nod down at him, as disappointed as he is about it. “I did and I had access to google in the school library and I ignored it in favour of ruining Cook Pritchard’s life.”

“You’re terrible,” Baz snorts out. He also leans up to kiss me again, cupping my cheek soft. He’s so full of affection for me. He doesn’t have to say it when he kisses me like that. He says it anyway. “I love you, menace to society that you are.”

I love how he can say something like that, call me something like that, and sound so impossibly fond. “I know you do,” I answer, grinning back at him and leaning back on my elbows. He chases me down for another soft kiss and I lean back again, avoiding him, making him chase me more, making him chase me all the way down until I’m lying fully on the grass and he’s leaning above me and holding my hands and kissing me silly.

I’m laughing through all of it, twisting our hands together and squeezing my fingers over his. I lean up and chase him down for more kisses before he can pull back, before he can get us water or more sour cherry scones or anything else. I love catching him in fits of kissing like this, dragging him back for more and more until we both forget anything else.

I could live off his smile, I think, when he’s kissing me silly like this. He still makes me so bloody giddy and it’s been well over a year and I spend all my free time with him. Everyone says that’ll change, that I’ll get tired of him around all the time. Coworkers, old classmates, old foster siblings and people I knew from therapy and group homes, basically everyone but Pen, but I think they’re sodding insane. They probably think I’m insane for thinking it’s not going to change, but I know myself. I know all I need is that silly bloody smile, that gorgeous bloody laugh, those sweet, bloody tender kisses…

“Tell me more of your favourite foods,” Baz asks between my laughter and his kisses.

I’m a little caught off guard. I’d forgotten we were talking still again, but I just grin up at him. “Anything you make me is my favourite food.”

“That’s cheating, love,” Baz snorts out another laugh, “You have to give a real answer, or else I’m just going to cook for me forever.”

“I like whatever you cook for you,” I shrug under him, chasing down another soft, silly little kiss, a little giddy-drunk-stupid on his affections, “That’s plenty real enough, I think.”

He hums back at me, nipping soft over my lips. “You’ll have to give a real answer sooner or later, Simon, or else we’ll be serving basilla and fattah at our wedding.”

“Okay but I actually do love your fattah.” And I do. I love all his home cooking, but the casual wedding talk is new. Distracing. I can’t help but drift back to it. “You want to marry me?”

He laughs. Of course he bloody laughs. As if it were obvious.

“More than anything.”

He says it so bloody confidently, and I know one day he’s going to ask, and one day I’m going to say yes. I’m not even going to have time to figure out my own plan. He’s already got it all figured out, but I don’t mind. I like that he’s got our lives planned out like this, I like that I can trust him with me like this.

No, more than like it, I love it. “We’re going to have to have cherries in the cake then. That’s my only demand.”

“As if I wasn’t already planning on it.” Baz’s so bloody smug about it, smirking down at me.

I shove a scone in his mouth and shove him over just to wipe that look off his face. “You’re such a bloody prick.”

Unfortunately, he’s still just as smug. “You love this bloody prick.”

“Unfortunately,” I groan back. I can’t commit though. I’m already kissing him bloody stupid all over again. “Unfortunately, I’m going to marry this bloody prick.”

[caspers-multifandom]

Dating App | Coffee Shop AU!

AN: Okay so this is rushed (barely proofread either, sorry) but it's 1am and I have work in like six hours, so please bare with me. Just a little idea I've been playing with and this is just the beginning. Should I continue?

Word Count: 1,285

____

Price wiped down the counter and the coffee machine as the lunch rush slowed down.

“Ah man, missing ma two favourite ladies.” Soap huffs as he came back from wiping down tables and collecting the leftover mugs.

“What you yapping about?” Price asks without looking up.

“Two of my regulars, an ol’ na and her daughter. Always see them on Thursdays.” Soap sulks as he loads up the dishwasher.

Price never usually worked Thursdays but Simon had called asking for cover because his therapy session was changed – something Price was incredibly proud of him doing. So here Price was working a Thursday and only slightly curious about Soap’s ‘regulars’. Price knew the younger man could be a flirt with the female customers (once earning a slap from a towel because Price wasn’t paying him to ogle the women). But he never mentioned having regulars before – not to mention ones he has never seen.

“How’s the dating app going?” Soap nudges Price’s elbow with is own. “Bag any beauties yet?”

“None of your business.” Price gruffed as he dried a mug with his towel.

“Oh come on!” Soap whined. “Gaz and I have five that says you deleted it. Ghost is opposing.”

Price shouldn’t really have been shocked that the lads had placed bets on his love life. They were the ones that convinced him to download it and try to find someone to occupy his time.

“I mean it couldn’t hurt. You’re always here or sat in a pub.” Gaz had stated. “About time you got out there.”

“Yeah, download the app Price. Bag a beauty, fall in love, get out of our hair.” Soap prodded.

“Actually shag someone.”

Price had cut the conversation short after Simon’s declaration that had Soap and Gaz all but howling on the coffee shop floor.

“Why’re you so interested in my love life anyway?” Price muttered as he put the mug back in place under the counter.

“Because we’re looking out for you. God knows the amount’a times you saved us.” Soap lightly tapped him on his shoulder. “We just worry you’re becoming to wrapped up in yourself.”

That was true. Price could get too wrapped up within himself that he became a work alcoholic. Old habit of working in his previous field of combat and life threatening situations. Now that he was retired from that and back in the civilian world, he threw himself into his business. The coffee shop that he had always seen whenever he was home from deployment and after he returned, he offered to buy it from the previous owner. He got quite a good deal on the place, just needed a little fixing up and the kitchen needed a little work but otherwise he was all set. After his boys all decided to hang up the dog tags too, he was quick to offer them all a job with him and they all accepted. Price threw everything he could into this business and so did they and it paid off because they become a local favourite – even had passers through come in frequently too. Price knew he couldn’t leave this behind, her needed to work. He had to work, without working then there was nothing that really made him… him.

“Well, there was one match.” Price sighed as he looked down at the counter.

“Really?! Show me!” Soap was like a dog that had just seen his owner pull out the leash to go for a walk. He was over the counter and bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Price to unlock his phone. Price sniffed and turned his head to look down on the man, Soap seemed to take the hint and took a step out of his personal space.

Price opened the app and clicked onto the profile of the match he had found. Soap leant down to saw at the phone.

“Hang on, is that-”

“I don’t care how late we are, you’re not going to stop me from seeing the young man.” The voice of an irritated old lady sounded as the door to the coffee shop opened. Price looked up and froze.

“Mom, will you wait a minute.” The voice of the young woman followed as she entered the shop holding multiple shopping bags.

“See, told you he would still be in!” The older woman cheered as they made their way over to the counter.

Soap smiled at the two women as they came over to them. The older woman was shorter, slightly hunched at the shoulders from age but she still carried herself with her chin high and smile upon her ruby, wrinkled cheeks. The younger woman held her head down the entire approach, her short hair blocking her sight but her jean clad legs seemed to remember the space around her as she kept looking through her shopping bags.

“Hello there Marie, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Soap greeted the pair with his grin and a slap to Price’s leg to shake him from his shock.

“Oh aren’t you still as charming as ever.” The elder gushed as she smiled at the younger man.

“Always when I see your darling face.” Soap continued to egg on the older woman, all the while Price couldn’t tear his eyes away from the unknowing young woman that followed her mother. She was still looking down at the bags in her hands, seemingly counting whatever was in there.

“I knew you only picked up one box of eggs,” She huffed to herself as she placed the bags on the floor and shifted items from one bag to another.

“Your usual then?” Soap asked Marie as he began getting a mug ready.

“Yes please, throw a little extra sugar in it for me.” Marie replied as she readied her purse. She paused when there was a silence that followed her.

“Rory, what are you having?” She asked, grabbing the attention of the young woman. She finished shifting through the bags and looked up at her mother – the sun streaming in through the windows caught her eyes and made they shine a beautiful and deep honey.

“I’ll just have a tea, two sugars please.” She smiled up to Soap as he nodded at her order.

Soap continued to make their drinks and move himself around the still frozen man that stood at the counter shamelessly staring at Rory. When she finally stood up and brushed her short hair out of her face and turned to him; she froze.

The realisation seemed to dawn upon her too that she was the one that Price had matched with on his app.

“One tea with two sugars, and a latte with extra sugar.” Soap announced as he placed their drinks on a tray.

“You’re a star, take a tip for yourself sweetie.” Marie smiled at Soap as she handed over a twenty pound note. Price and Rory were still stuck in their eye contest before Soap noticed and cleared his throat. Rory was the first to look away, a rosy tint in her cheeks as she hurriedly picked up the bags from the floor and rushed off to a free table.

“Rory! Wait a minute-”

“That’s alright, Marie. I’ll bring them over.” Soap interrupted and smiled as Marie turned back to him.

“Oh that girl, one minute she doesn’t want to come in and the next she’s running through. I’ll never understand her.” Marie tutted as she followed after her daughter.

Soap shot a glance at Price who was still stood with his phone in his hand and his eyes were still following after Rory.

Shit, Soap thought to himself as he realised he owned Simon five quid.

[wickerfox]

hiiiii i wanna know about the saf hatchetfield au please tell me about the saf hatchetfield au

IM BOUNCING AROUND THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE

(I need you to know that I saw this ask right before I went in to work so I spent almost my entire shift thinking abt this)

OKAY SO one of the driving ideas that I have for this au is that Curt and Owen are also affected by the Hatchetfield timeline weirdness in their own unique way. There’s this idea that their story is one that plays out over and over again and similar to Hatchetfield, while there are slight changes and differences there are also constants

Agent Curt Mega goes through some event that was that he blames himself for and ends up living with that guilt for some time before eventually having to come to terms with it. Owen Cavour goes through a near death experience that leaves him fundamentally changed and he has to live with that trauma. A key part of their dynamic in saf that gets changed here is the fact that they're not spies, they don't have this preexisting connection that drives the two of them closer or gives them the dynamic we see at the start of the musical, so in my head they fall closer to their cannon characterizations and I feel like that shifts the dynamic in an interesting way.

Detective Curt Mega used to be one of the best but after everything he struggles to work on his own and struggles to admit to needing any help, so the fact that Owen, this actor who he's never even heard of is actually competent and can work people and get information easier than he can has him more than a little annoyed. I feel like Owen in this au is a character that while not driven by a revenge or hatred is still a character that lives behind facade, and that has survived a major trauma that does inform a lot of his actions. He's not going to take a threat to his life lightly, and that's a major driving force as to why he insists on working with Curt. Neither of them are following standard procedure and end up find this shaky middle ground both being too close to this case. Owen can see that and see the fact that Curt knows this town and this case better than he does, and he also sees that he's in desperate need of help that he won't accept. The two of them would find each other at these rough points in their lives and I feel like as the investigation goes along the two of them realize that they do make a good team, they each have their own strengths that they play to. They each let down their walls enough to see that there's more to the other and I think a genuine connection does form through the fact that they come to understand each other during this time.

As for like, dynamics relating to Hatchetfield and other characters, in this au, Curt and his mom would've moved to the town around the time of his senior year. He went to Sycamore so never got in on the whole Hatchetfield Nighthawks hype the rest of the town seemed to be in on, and didn't really make many friends his senior year, so when he graduated he didn't have the same connection to the town that most people seemed to have. He did stick around though and I think during the time he was a detective he did make a name for himself as someone who could be relied on. He frequented Miss Retros and I like to think he did have a good friendship with Miss Holloway during his time as a detective. The two of them would bond pretty often over feeling like old souls, and silently understand each other in the fact that they didn't really have the same connection to the town that so many others had. When his partner died it was pretty easy to say fuck it and leave it all behind, but the thing about Hatchetfield is that you may be done with it, but the town will never be done with you.

I'm still working out some things about this au, like who Curt's partner was and what the exact event Owen survived was and I'm so open to suggestions from people. There was a tempting moment to make Curt's first partner Tati or Barb but I Really didn't really want to kill either of them off and I have some other ideas the relates to lore for the timeline resets. I have a couple more ideas too abt like, how the two interact with some of the other Hatchetfield characters during the investigation and how the mystery plays out but I'm still thinking on those

[aquilathefighter]

It's a long list of writer asks so I asked a bunch: 4, 6, 15, 16, 29, 30, 50, 73, and 77

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

I jot all my ideas down in a markdown file called WIP Directory and let them all kinda marinate in my head. Then, it's really whichever one I have inspiration for at that moment. If I can at least get some of it out on paper I can look at the list and see what sparks my brain up.

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

He swears he can feel the sharp edge bouncing up and down against the pounding of his pulse.

(from some sexy swordplay im working on 👀)

15. What’s your favorite time to write?

Afternoon!

16.Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

Laptop all the way! I might jot some things down on my phone if it pops into my head while I'm out and about, but the vast majority of my writing is on my laptop. No clue how ppl do it any other way without going mad XD

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I would say how much better my dialogue has gotten in the ~7 months I've been writing!

30. How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

I edit very lightly. Usually I try to wait until I finish the first draft to fully read it and mark where things don't make sense or need a sentence rewritten. Sometimes I only do a quick scan for spelling and grammar before sending it off into the ether

50. How would you describe your writing style?

introspective, economic, and sensory-focused.

73. What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Not sure if it's the most frequent, but the one that sticks in my mind is how I incorporate canon into my fics!!

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

I really like the speculative nature of it! We ask so many versions of "what would happen if my favorite characters were in this situation?" and find so many different answers! I get to dive deeper into a character's head and understand why they do the things that they do, and what they would do given a different context (especially an AU!)! I also really enjoy the community around writing and sharing my ideas with other fans <3

Thank you so much for all the questions!!!! <3

fanfiction writer asks

[aquagirl1978]

Things That Go Bump in the Night - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: My contribution for Day 1 - Modern AU of the "Different Universe, Same Love Content Creator Challenge" hosted by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

Prompt: modern au

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

Warnings: campy horror, crack fic, spiders

"Where are you going? It's late. Stay with us.” 

You scoffed as you glanced at Nokto, who was sprawled on his bunk bed, eyes half-lidded and glassy. “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m not drunk,” Clavis piped in.  

Turning to your favorite mischief maker, you smiled sweetly. “Yes, but you will keep me up all night rambling about your ideas on how to prank the campers. How many traps Yves has stepped in this week? And so on and so on.” 

“I need to bounce my ideas off of someone. And Jin... where is Jin?” 

“He had to take a piss. Probably ran into a pretty lady on his way back,” Nokto said, his words slurred as he slumped further onto his bed. 

“See,” Clavis pleaded, pointing to his drunk brother. “You can’t leave me. Not yet.” 

“Sorry. I’m tired. And I am not staying in here with you guys, I’ll never get any sleep.” You grabbed your flashlight on your way to the door. “Goodnight.” 

“You should let one of us keep you company on your way back,” Nokto said while attempting to sit up. “It’s dark out. You never know who or what is lurking out there.” Nokto, unable to remain sitting up, proceeded to fall back into his bed. 

“Thanks, mom, but I’ll pass. My cabin is not that far away, I can make it there on my own. Clavis, you need to stay and babysit your brother. Make sure he doesn’t do anything silly. Like try to get out of the bed.” 

Clavis stood there, pouting slightly, but nodded in acceptance. “Hey, if you see Jin, can you send him back here? I have some ideas I need to discuss with him.” 

“Hey! I’m here...you can talk to...”  

“Sure thing,” you said, stifling a laugh as Nokto snored loudly. You tilted your hand up in one final wave. “Have fun, I’ll be sure to send Jin over if I see him.”  

Closing the cabin door, you flicked your flashlight on, illuminating the pathway before you. “Jin’s a big boy, he can find his way back on his own,” you muttered under your breath. Although it was pitch black out, save for the light the moon provided, you were not scared; this was a trip you frequently made with relative ease. In less than 10 minutes, you would be safe in your bed, tucked under the covers.  

Snap. 

"Ugh!” You flashed your light down below; it was just a tree branch you stepped on. A very loud tree branch, but just a tree branch. It’s nothing, it’s just a stick, you reminded yourself silently. After kicking the branch to the side, you continued on the dark path. 

Careful to avoid any more branches, you slowed your pace, keeping the light bright. You smiled, remembering how sweet Clavis and Nokto were, concerned about your well-being. But the truth was, the scariest thing you could bump into tonight was Chevalier, whose bark was worse than his bite. But the chances of running into him at this hour were slim to none; his nose was most likely buried in one of his many, many romance books. 

Plunk. 

You heard a man groan loudly, his familiar voice coming from the same direction as the noise. Swinging the light in your hands around the tree nearby, your heartbeat quickened, certainly not expecting what you found. 

“For fucks sake, Jin,” you whisper-screamed. “What are doing here? Your brothers were wondering what happened to you.” You offered your hand to help him get up. 

Jin, a bit shaky on his feet, was rubbing his head. “I came out here to, um, take a leak.” Rolling your eyes, you waved your hand, urging him to continue. “And I dunno, this spot here just looked really comfy so I took a seat.” 

“Jin, you were gone for over a half an hour.” 

“Yeah, and I might have drunk a bit too much whiskey? Anyways, I sat down, and then this acorn decided to go and fall flat on my head.”  

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jin’s poor predicament. “I promised your brothers I’d send you back to the cabin if I ran into you. So, off you go.” 

“Maybe I’ll go back to your cabin for a bit,” Jin offered, his hand covering the huge yawn that was trying to escape.  

“Thanks, but Clavis is waiting for you. He needs to discuss pranks with you.” 

“He has Nokto there!” 

“Nokto’s not really all there right now,” you smirked. 

Jin sighed. “Alright, I guess I should get going then.” With a wave, he bid you goodnight and headed back to his cabin. 

Twisted around from your distraction, you swung the flashlight in a wide circle trying to make sense of where you were. You heard a noise – it's just another acorn, you told yourself – and glanced up at the full moon shining bright above you, wondering what other tricks it had for you this evening.  

Crack. 

Your head jerked towards the sound; your heart raced as fear began to build in the pit of your belly. Yours eyes flicked all around, flashlight following.  

You felt it. 

The skin on the back of your neck pricked. You felt like a rabbit being stalked. This was not like the other times. This was no random acorn falling from the sky. 

You felt like you were being watched. 

Correction. You knew were being watched. Straining your ears, you heard the light crunch of footsteps in the grass. Best case scenario, Nokto wandered from his cabin and you’ll need to return him. Worst case, Chevalier is prowling the woods, ready to scold you for being out of your cabin late at night. 

Wrapping your arm around your body, you hugged your red hoodie tightly across your chest; your eyes scanning the woods for anything. Or anyone. 

Continuing along the dark path, you heard another noise. A twig snapping, perhaps? You jerked your head, waving the flashlight in your clammy hands.  

“What's that?” you called out. “Jin? That better not be you.” You heard another noise in the nearby distance. Flashing your light around, you tried to calm down, telling yourself that it was just another acorn.  

You heard it again. Footseps. 

Panning the light left and right, your breath became shallow as your eyes searched the shadows. You spun in your spot hoping to catch a glimpse of what was out there, only to end up dizzy and disoriented. Frustrated, you sighed as your ran a hand through your hair, wishing that Clavis would jump out from behind the bushes.  

Upon hearing a faint noise, you flashed the light one more time. You screamed, nearly dropping the flashlight, when the light shined on a single red eye glittering in the moonlight.  

“Did I scare you?” Gilbert asked, a friendly smile spreading on his lips. Dressed all in black, it was easy to see how he remained hidden in the shadows this entire time, his dark eyepatch masking another glowing eye. 

Gilbert von Obsidian. He was a counsellor at Camp Obsidian on the other side of the lake that separated the two campsites. You had never met him before, but you had heard stories of the young man who wore an eye patch. Shrouded in mystery, you had assumed much of what you had heard was purely the gossip of bored kids. Smart as a whip, trampler of hearts, every story about him shared one common theme – avoid at all costs. But seeing him in the flesh, you found a part of yourself wanting to reach for him. 

“What’s a lone bunny like you doing out in the woods this late at night?” He traced the outline of the Camp Rhodolite logo over your heart on your red hoodie, hoping and praying that he did not feel how fast it was beating. “You’re far from home and these woods can be a scary place. It’s a good thing you ran into me.” 

You gritted your teeth in frustration; his words were anything but reassuring. Schooling your composure, you stared back at him. “I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I can see the moon better on this side of the lake.” 

You stared at him blankly, confused by his cryptic answer. Okay, Mr. von Obsidian, if that’s how you want to play. 

He took a step closer to you; his hand reaching out to you, his fingertips touched a loose tendril of your hair. Adrenaline flooded your system; you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay or scream. 

“Hold on,” he whispered softly as lightly tugged on your hair. “There.” He pulled his hand away, and held it up to the moonlight where you saw a single spider crawling on his skin. “Didn’t think you’d want that visitor on you.” He held his fingers close to his lips and blew on his skin, sending the spider drifting off into the midnight breeze. Your heartbeat slowed, the gentle gesture both unexpected and comforting, the urge to reach out to him increasing.  

“Thank you.” You weren’t sure what came over you, but you found yourself standing on tiptoes, your lips brushing against his. His mouth pressed firmly against yours, his lips were soft and gentle. One taste of his cool kiss and you were already enchanted by his spell; he was welcome to trample all over your heart. 

Breaking the kiss far too early, he pulled back and smiled at you. “The moon is beautiful tonight; it’s glowing, gorgeous.”  

Only he wasn’t looking up at the sky; he was gazing straight into your eyes. 

Wait. 

Something he said earlier came back to haunt you - “I can see the moon better on this side of the lake.” You were the moon. He wasn’t being weirdly cryptic earlier; he was talking about you. He wasn’t there by some happy accident; he was waiting for you. 

You shivered, realization dawning on you that perhaps there was a shred of truth to the rumors and that maybe you should heed their warning – avoid Gilbert von Obsidian at all costs.  

“I should be going...” You were almost there, in just a few minutes you would be back in your cabin, tucked in your bed surrounded by your friends. Safe. Away from him. 

“Come with me. I’ll keep you safe.” He extended his hand to you, a gentle smile spread on his lips. There was something that pulled you to him; how many others had he charmed with that soft smile? Daring to dance with danger, you slipped your hand in his, his cool touch stinging as his fingers intwined with yours. 

Safe from what? How can he keep you safe, if what you needed protecting from was him? 

Tagging: @xxsycamore @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @queengiuliettafirstlady @gilbertvonobsidian @alixennial @redheadkittys @atelieredux @rhodolitesrose @chaosangel767 @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @ikehoe @altairring @lordsisterxotome @lucyw260 @violettduchess

Want to be added to my tag list? Send me an ask or DM.

[lfnr-blog-blog-blog]

Snövit

Pairing | Bucky x disabled reader (College AU) They/Them Pronouns. Non descriptive.

Warnings | Heavy and frequent medical conversations, explanations, and procedures. Chronically ill reader. John Walker, Brock Rumlow (they are a warning okay. I hate them) Angst, Fluff, some curse words, fluff. Protective Misguided Bucky. Reader is an ambulatory wheelchair user. Needles, Seizures, mentions of vomiting/puking.

Summary | You are just trying to live your life, and your wicked stepfather wants you gone.

Word Count| ~7K

A/N | This fic was inspired by the Fairy Tale of Snow White, however it is ambiguous. Some information you may need: A port-a-cath ("Port") is a type of central line, most famously known in cancer patients, it is "accessed" by placing a needle in the little hub. The walker reader uses is a Walker/Rollator, it has wheels and a little seat, making it more user friendly for people who cannot stand for long periods of time. Please reach out if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them anytime. Thank you to my betas: @buckayyyebitches and @offcast-plus1. And everyone who helped bounce ideas and keep me on track. Readers nickname is Flame as that is what they call their Radio DJ Persona.

“The homework is due Monday.” Dr. Pierce finishes up as you snap your notebook shut, you grab your bag from the back of your chair, rushing to pack up for the basketball game you’ll be working tonight, when you hear your name. You turn around to see your step father behind you, “Yes Alexander?” He throws your most recent essay in your lap, “71 percent, 71 measly percent. Your mother has entrusted me to make sure that you make it through this degree, even with all of your *issues* and you cannot even get more than a ‘C’ on a paper for Political Science.” You go to defend yourself when Steve pipes up from across the room, “Come on Flame, we gotta go. Call is in twenty, and you know how Stark and Potts get if we are late.” Grabbing the push bars on your wheelchair you follow Steve out of the room, heading across campus to the college television station.

Brock re-enters the room after Rogers and Barnes exit with Flame. Joining Pierce at his desk, “Well what are we going to do about that?” Brock asks, motioning towards the trio moving across campus in the windows. “I am not sure, Rumlow, but I am sure that Rogers is protecting them from me.” Pierce slides an envelope across the desk, Rumlow picking it up, hearing the rattling of the contents. “It needs to be done soon. They are amassing too much, too much status, too much money, too much protection, Stark and Potts are petitioning against me with the Dean. I need them gone, and that is your job here.”

Bucky steps ahead of you and Steve, “Pierces’ lecture today sucked, huh Stevie?” Buck says, turning around to look at you. “Well Flame, when can we expect the next paper to be due since you know everything?” “Buck! Fuck if I know, you and I both know that he wouldn’t give me a leg up even if I was in the ICU in a coma.” You tease, passing the admin building. “Now move or get run over, you know the drill.” Activating the power assist on your chair, needing it for the slight uphill slope from the admin building to the student center where the cafeteria, gym, and broadcasting compound are housed. Steve catches the door for you. “We still have about 15 minutes until call, do you want to grab some lunch really quick? Today is going to be a long day behind the boards.” You nod, heading towards the cafeteria.

“Eeyyyyy, Flame, they have your favorite soup.” Bucky calls out across the room, while you scour the salad bar looking for something that actually sounds good with your nausea. “Yasssss,” you call out heading over to where they have the soup, making yourself a to-go bowl, grabbing a protein shake, and a sports drink. Between the soup, the drinks, and the IV fluids in your Port-a-cath today should be a good day. “So Steve, who do you think Pepper will have direct today- me or you? Everyone else is first years’, and it is championship weekend.” Steve thinks for a moment, “I am sure we will both have a chance. We have two games tonight, four games tomorrow, and the final game on Sunday afternoon, and we are the only two cleared for game directing. Besides, Stark will have Rhodey or Nate in the Control Studio all weekend, so I am sure that if you need a break you can get it. You know your accommodations mean you don’t need to be in the control room for every game.” You nod along, as he picks up his food, Bucky is behind him, everyone heading for checkout. After checking out you move out of the way, when Bucky grabs your drinks from your hand, zipping them in your bag in one fell swoop, Steve grabbing your soup and putting it on his to-go container. “Both of you knock it off, my hands work. I can put stuff away on my own.” You jibe at the pains’ in your ass. “But why would we let you do that when we can do it and make you all flustered.” Bucky teases back. “I’m gonna toss a freezer meal in that silly crockpot you bought Flame, you guys will want a home cooked meal. Brock and a few of the other guys from Criminal Law are coming over, so we can get ready for the test next week. But I am kicking them out, when you guys get home. Wanda and Nat are having a med study group in the basement and will be done at 9. Oh Doll, don't forget you need to get a home nurse out to do your weekly assessment tomorrow morning, before you leave for the games.” You roll your eyes, he is such a mother hen. “Yes Buck, I know. I already called Melyssa. She will be out at 8, so Stevie and I can leave for first call at 9.” You start rolling away before he can start worrying about how much time you are spending working this weekend, headed to the first of many games you’ll be working.

“Looks like you are up first, Flame.'' Steve says looking at the call sheet, seeing what first years have been assigned to us for today. The two of you being the only upperclassmen in the program, after 90 percent of the program failed out in your second year, all because of a drug test. Pepper and Tony have strict rules for the students who represent them in the community, one of them being a zero tolerance policy for drug use. The first years being the only reason that we can even run games and other station events. You eat your soup quickly and then, clean your hands to administer your afternoon nausea and routine medications through your IV; in your small office-like space that Pepper had set up for you when you first needed accommodations, taking an under used recording studio, adding a couch, desk, fridge, microwave, and station, where you could store foods, and supplies. Steve laying out on the couch, eating his burger and fries, “Steve if you get fry sauce on my couch I will murder you after this weekend is over!'' You warn in jest, you and all your friends hang out in this room when you are in this building, allowing you the space to stretch out, get out of your wheelchair in a controlled environment, do homework in quiet and have a safe and sterile station to take care of any medical needs. He laughs at your statement. “You know I would never spill in here. Pepper would kill me and take away my access pass. Hey out of curiosity, what did you get on your Poly Sci essay?” “A 71, he seemed pissed, I am going to look at it and see the justification. What did you get?” You respond, cracking open your drink. “I got a 92. What is his issue? You literally worked your ass off on that essay, you had more research than me or Buck, and it was well within the word limit. Why does your stepfather hate you?” Chuckling, you retorted. “You know why he hates me Cap,” teasing at his on-air persona, “I am my mothers child, and he only married her for the money. The only reason I decided to go to school here is this Journalism program, otherwise I would have gotten the hell outta dodge, my mom doesn’t care if I go here or not, it is well under the budget that I’ve been allotted for schooling. And he is the only one who teaches Poly Sci, so it’s not like I can just drop the class and get a different professor next semester, and we have to have it to graduate, so I will take the C, we all know I am pulling straight A’s in my other classes.” He nods, the alarm on your phone going off, warning you that it is time to meet the rest of the crew and go over your expectations for this game. You join the crew in the call room, not noticing Steve checking his phone - a text from Bucky.

Buck-I am going to surprise them with flowers tonight, if they need to leave early let me know.- Steve-wait what?!?!? Pierce said months ago, that anyone being with Flame, and they would be cut off by their mom.-

Buck- well about that, Flames’ mom was at the tower just now dropping off some paperwork and asked about why Flame never talks about me, especially after everything with them getting diagnosed and all the shit that is happening now. And I told her what Pierce said, and get this- Flame was never in danger of being cut off.-

Steve -fucking asshole Pierce, making you stay away.Something about that smells fishy, he doesnt even like Flame. you heard him today right? -

Buck- yea. I did. also said that Pierce has been trying to get Flame to go out with Brock-

Steve- Fuck, keep him away from their room. I don’t like that. Brock is the campus asshole. Good luck. Flame will love it. I know they miss you.-

Finishing up assigning cameras, graphics, and studio support to the first years before you call out to Steve. “Alright, if you have any issues shoot a text to Cap here. He will be around to jump in as needed. Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark will be looking in on us today too, so let’s show them we deserve to be here. Game starts in 45, so go get set up.” You finish your speech, heading to the control studio with Steve and the crew needed for that room. The camera crews grab their gear and head to the Gym. Your phone buzzes, checking the messages. A few from your mom, but checking the one from Bucky.

Bucky-hey, if you need, let me know and I can come get you early if the second game is too much ☺️- Rolling your eyes at the text you fire back.

Flame- yes mother 🙄😉😂💕

A subtle hint that you know what you are doing, this is your 3rd semester of dealing with your health issues, and you have a pretty good system down. Christmas break of your freshman year, a virus that wouldn’t quit, your body becoming overtaxed and sending you into Autonomic Nervous System failure, a whole host of problems joining the group. You never knew that you had some underlying conditions prior to the virus that sent your whole body haywire, making the nervous system failure so easily attainable. Bucky never left your side all those months of trying to figure out why you were passing out 16 times a day and now, it seems like he can’t even look at you, apparently the wheelchair, daily IV Fluids, home nursing, and a short ticking clock of life, are making you unappealing, undateable. It took nearly a year to get all the diagnoses’ and then a few months later Bucky backed off, everything settling in. And now, 3 months later he only says something if he doesn’t hear Steve or Nat ask about it or talking about shallow things. Meals, classwork, and chores at the tower. Getting comfortable in the control studio, you put your phone away. Prepping for how the rest of the night is going to be, Nate as your technical director, you calling out the shots and him putting them up. “Alright folks, let’s do this. Ready camera 1.” a small pause “Take 1, lets get those score graphics up, take Graphics.” The rest of the game continues, you getting into the zone, proving why you are the best student director in the program. “Ready 3….. Take 3. Walker, I need you to focus, something is going on with your camera.” Your team wins 3 points ahead of the competition, sending you to the next round. “Ready logo, Take logo. Good job folks, you’ve got 45 minutes to eat and be in your assigned positions for the next game. Walker, come see me.”

You roll back from your spot at the desk, stretching your neck and popping your fingers, head pounding under the lights, nausea flaring. The studio empties as Walker comes in. “Hey John, what is going on? You were all over the place. You never do that when Cap is directing.” Walker rubs his hand down his face. “Ya know Flame, I am not quite sure that you are one to talk,” motioning to your chair, “you missed a few games this season.'' You stand, not willing to take this sitting down. “John, everyone has off days, but you were disrespecting me on the headsets, you cannot do that. Don’t let it happen again or I will be talking to Potts, and if you insinuate what I think you are saying again, I will go to the Dean and have you suspended up for discrimation.” John slams his hand to your chest, pushing you back in the chair, kicking your bag with the IV pump and supplies. “You will not be talking to anyone. I am more talented than you and I will not be taking orders from a worthless lump!” Walker storms out of the studio, knocking shoulders with Steve on his way out. Wiping the tears out of your eyes, Steve asks. “What is up with John, he seems a bit off today.” You shake your head, “I am not sure Steve, we can talk about it after this weekend is over. Wanna go get a drink?” Steve nods and you head to the cafe, making small talk about the game and the ones to follow. “What did you think Stevie? Did I do okay?” Your chest starts to ache, slowing down a little as the pain gets more aggressive by the second.

“That was really good Flame. I sat with Tony and Pepper for a little bit, and they were impressed. How are you feeling, how's your heart rate?” You continue down the hall vision going a little fuzzy. “Honestly Steve, I am pretty beat, but we still have another.” Your IV pump in your bag blaring, interrupting your sentence. An excuse to stick around and help through Steve’s game, even if just with tech support or chilling with Pepper, helping with tips for future games. You roll to the side of the hall, checking your port-a-cath in your chest, seeing the line filled with blood. Heart racing, black spots joining your fuzzy eyes. “Steve, help!” You murmur, attempting to grab the backpack off the back of your wheelchair. He brings the bag around to you, kneeling in front of you and placing a hand on your knee to ground you to him. The blaring of your IV pump stops as you stop the infusion, no pressure in the bag, as you notice the IV fluids leaking through a hole in the bag. Your head spinning, watch going off, warning your heart rate is going extremely wrong, your vision cuts to black as you pass out. Steve catches you as you lean forward, nearly coming out of your wheelchair. He puts your backpack back on the wheelchair, grabbing the emergency strap and hooking it around your chest so he can move you back to your safe room, ;pulling his phone out and calling Bucky. “Hey punk, what’s up, how’d the first game go?” Bucky says as he picks up. “Buck you gotta come get Flame. Bring Nat or Wanda.” Steve rushes out then hangs up the phone. Opening the door to your day room, moving you as gently as possible to the couch so you can stabilize. Bucky rushes down to the basement living room in the Tower, entirely forgetting his study group, bursting through the door. “Nat, Wanda, something is wrong with Flame, we gotta go get ‘em.” Both of the women excuse themselves, everyone on this campus knows you, hosting the most popular radio show, being the campus mom most of the time, no one ever complains if you need help. Bucky grabs the spare keys to your mobility SUV, he will drive it back and Steve will take the truck back after the games are over. The five minute ride from the Tower to the Student center parking lot is the longest five minutes in recent memory for him. Steve is struggling to get you to wake up just as Bucky sprints in the door, Nat and Wanda closely behind him. Nat takes charge, checking all of the equipment and your vitals. You wake up after a few minutes, all of them watching you breathe. “Hey guys, sorry about that. I think I just got some negative pressure, and it just messed with my nervous system. I am good to go back to the control studio as soon as I get unhooked and get the bag figured out.” You go to sit up and Nat stops you. “You’ll be going back to the tower with Bucky, Wanda and me. You need to stay in bed for a while.” Bucky and Wanda nodding behind her.

“That is unless you want me to call Melyssa and get her out tonight, and no more work for the rest of the weekend!” Bucky pipes up, forcing a groan out of you. “You know I have no problems going straight to Potts to get you to use your accommodation. Doll, you have to rest! The doctor told you about that - you can’t overdo it.” You grumble out: “Fine! Take me back to the tower.”

Brock watches Bucky leave, excusing himself to use the bathroom. Sneaking into the room with the little flames all over it, Flame written in big bold letters. Sneaking around the room, adding small cameras to watch the room, adding other cameras to the rest of the house. Making a mental map of all the exits, and the overall layout of the tower.

Bucky lifts you from the couch and into your wheelchair, helping you get buckled in, arranging everything around you. You barely have the energy to lift your head, let alone fight him on letting you do it yourself. “Come on, Doll. Let's go home.” Wheeling you out to the SUV, and taking you home. Checking your smart watch, noticing your heart rate is through the roof again, 160 and rising, your autonomic nervous system failure going into a flare. Groaning to yourself, you know that this weekend will not be spent working games, it will likely end in a trip to the Emergency Room or a hospital admission, or if you are really lucky, just spent miserable in bed. Bucky pulls up to your home, The Tower, a 5 story townhome bought by your mom when your college housing no longer worked. It is fully accessible, giving you the luxury of having a home while also having your friends close and being near campus. Nat and Wanda were the first two to move in, both bringing their boyfriends - Clint and Vision, and then Steve and Bucky joined you . Getting everything unloaded from the car and heading straight for the elevator, going to your room to get into bed. Rolling in the door to your room, a gasp escapes your lips, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your desk, along with a basket of safe to eat snacks, and a new blanket. Pulling the note out of the basket, “Doll, turn around.” Bucky says, and you turn, facing him. “I like you Doll. I know some things happened that I am not proud of, but I want to be in your life as more than just a roommate, or the weird friend of your partner for class. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.” Tears welling in your eyes, you pull yourself into his arms, letting him hold you up. “Bucky, I want to be yours, but we have some things we need to talk about. You just up and ignored me for months, I thought we were going somewhere.” He nods, letting you know he hears you. “Your stepfather told me that if you started dating anyone, your mom would cut you off. You would lose everything, the tower, your schooling, healthcare. I couldn’t do that to you, but it was not true.” Your head starts spinning, standing for too long, your heart racing. “Um Buck. I need to sit.” Your legs buckling out from under you, Bucky catches you, moving you over to the bed to sit down. You quickly set to work on getting yourself ready for bed, fixing a new bag of IV fluids on the IV pole, pushing your medications, setting an alarm for 7:30 when the nurse is supposed to come in. Kicking Bucky out, you change and then set up your bed for the night, hooking up the bag of IV fluids and then let him back in once you get settled. “Bucky, do you wanna watch a movie with me?” You offered, patting the bed next to you and turning on an old favorite while falling asleep hand in hand.

You wake up to Steve shaking Bucky awake. “Yes Steve?” You ask rolling over to face him. “Hey Flame, it's almost time for the nurse to be here. Did you want to get up, or do you just want me to send her in here?” Sitting the bed up slowly, head spinning. “Can you send her in here? And let Pepper know I’ll be using my accomodation for the first game. I am going to try and get to the second game.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Flame. I want you to ask the nurse if she thinks that is a good idea, and Bucky is going to stay with you and make sure you don’t try and weasel your way out of it.” Bucky rolls over again, looking at Steve. “I got this punk, go eat or whatever it is you do at this ungodly hour.” The clock shows quarter to 8, giving you fifteen minutes until the nurse arrives. Nausea hits you more and more every minute. “Hey Buck?” You ask after a few minutes. “Can you go grab me a bottle of water and some crackers from the kitchen?” Kicking him out of the room so you can puke in peace, heading to your ensuite, taking care of your stomach and then, splashing some water on your face. “Hey Doll, I am back, are you okay?” He calls out next to the door. “The nurse is here, just come out when you are ready, okay?” You can hear the nurse grabbing supplies from your medical closet, knowing she is laying them out on the bedside table, getting ready to put a new needle in your port, draw labs, and get you all set up for the week ahead. Heading out of the bathroom, you see Bucky, watching every move the nurse makes. “Hey Melyssa.” You nod, head continuing to spin, slowly working your way over to the bed to lay back down. “Hey Flame. Steve and Bucky caught me up downstairs about last night. Let’s see how you are looking, okay?” She works quickly, getting your blood pressure (not great), heart rate (extremely high), and temperature (luckily normal). She cleans your skin and gets everything sterile ready to poke your skin. After getting all of the labs pulled and starts a bag of fluids to free flow while she does some paperwork; you lay back down trying to keep yourself from passing out. “Hey Melyssa do you think I could go work the rest of the games this weekend?” You ask, feeling guilty for leaving Steve on the busiest weekend of the semester. “No, I really don’t think that is a great idea. You are struggling not to pass out just sitting up, your chest is bruised and I have no clue how that happened,” Bucky growls at that. “And I would like to see what your labs look like so I can get a hold of your doctor. Right now you are running the risk of sepsis from the bag issue yesterday. So no you may not go to work the rest of the games. You need to stay in bed, rest, hydrate, and take your rescue medications. I will be in again tomorrow to check on you.” She gathers her bag and leaves the room, Bucky following her out. You pull your phone out, sending mass texts out to everyone about what she said, and send Steve and Pepper an apology, excusing yourself from the games today, hoping and praying that you will make it to Sunday’s final game. Stealing Bucky’s sweatshirt from the nightstand, putting it on and curling into it more and more. Bucky comes back in, holding a sports drink and his backpack. “Hey Doll, you look cute in my hoodies. I brought you something to drink and got some more instructions from the nurse. Lets keep you out of the ER this weekend okay?” You nod, cracking open the drink and nesting into your bed, adjusting it to sit up a little bit to watch tv. “Did you want to sit with me or sit at the desk to work on your homework Buck?” He comes over to the bed, kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll work at the desk, you get some rest. Steve and I will be having the Crim Law students over tomorrow after the final game, just so you know.” You curl in a little more head starting to pound, a yawn over taking you. “Go to sleep love, I will be here.” The day moves on, you napping on and off and someone is always there when you wake, movies playing quietly in the background, medications given and snacks. Around 2 Bucky

wakes you, bringing in a plate of safe foods, feeding you and checking on you.

Rumlow sits next to Walker, taking a sip of his coffee. “So I overheard you talking to Lemar about the little altercation you got in with Flame. I could use some help.” Walker nods, writing his phone number down and sliding it to Rumlow. “Call me.” Walker gets up, walking away. Rumlow sees his opportunity, use Walker to get Rogers, Barnes and Co. away from Flame, allowing him to take care of his job from Pierce.

The day continues much of the same, getting up, passing out, Bucky worrying, taking medications, and working slowly on the few homework assignments you had to do over the weekend. Starting with Pierce’s Poly Sci, pulling up the civil case and starting to read it with Bucky. Taking notes, pulling information from the case to put in the mini essay. “Hey Buck. Can we take a break? I need to eat something.” He nods, coming over to the bed, pulling you into his arms. “Wanna go get something, or we can order take out or I can make us something really quick.” You think for a minute, when Steve comes in the door, “Hey how did the day go? Sorry I wasn’t in.” You say to Steve, “We were just deciding what to do for dinner, do you want to join us for some take out?” He nods, sitting on the arm chair. “Sure, Nat and Wanda are out with Clint and Vision, celebrating Vision's new job with Banner, assisting in the medical sciences teaching department.” Steve and Bucky decide on Chinese ordering you your favorite meal and having it delivered to the Tower, you and Bucky cuddling on your bed and Steve chilling in the arm chair, watching an action movie. You excuse yourself to your bathroom, checking your phone, and get a text from an unknown number. -The Dean and I will be talking on Monday, you aren’t meeting the requirements of the program.- Instantly knowing it is from Walker you mute the number and head back to bed. Curling up to Bucky as Steve takes care of the leftovers. “Hey Doll, we gotta check your vitals again,” you groan at him. “Melyssa wants a record of them for the day, trying to see how you are doing.” Doing a final check for the night, you settle into bed, kicking Bucky and Steve out. Checking your phone again, seeing a barrage of texts from Walker, calling you every name in the book and becoming more and more unhinged with each ignored text. Tossing and Turning for hours you decide to sneak out for a little fresh air. You take your walker to the elevator, sitting on its little seat and rolling around the house, putting on a pair of flip flops, and opening the front door. Enjoying the cool breeze and the fresh air, you slip on your headphones and just gaze at the stars, watching them twinkle, you don’t notice him sneaking up on you, tipping your walker over with you sitting on it. Walker stands over you “You bitch, Stark wouldn’t let me do anything besides lackey all day, because he said I ‘don’t respect anyone or this program.’ This is your fault!” He spits in your direction, kicking the walker away from you as you gasp and struggle to get up. “People like you don’t deserve to be in this career field” he yells as he storms off. Struggling for air, the attack kick starts your fight or flight system that barely works, heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you get over to the walker and get it stood up to pull yourself off the ground as the sun starts to rise. Rushing inside as quickly as you dare, you shut and lock your door, sobbing into a pillow and trying not to puke, or wake the rest of the house, after you finally calm down you take off your (Bucky’s) hoodie and assess the damage, an open cut from hitting the ground on your arm, scrapes up your legs, and bruises starting to form, pulling on a tank top and some shorts, and curling into every blanket you own, you fall asleep with tears still in your eyes.

Bucky gets a late start, spending hours the night before working on homework, creating a study slide show for his crim law friends coming over later today. Making lunch and checking his texts, one pops in from Steve, -Just about finished with the game, Crim Law is coming in 45 minutes and I will be there in about an hour. Run to the store and grab some snacks and drinks, it is going to be a long evening. I haven’t studied at all.- Bucky grabs his sandwich and heads up to Flames room. “Hey I am going to the store, text if you need anything okay Doll?” You respond with a false strong: “Okay.” And listen for his footfalls to go away. You can barely move, having bruises on most parts of your body, chest aching, heart racing, unable to push any IV fluids or medications. Falling back into the fitful slumber you have been fighting all night. An hour or so later, you hear voices floating in the hallway, people in your home, doors slamming and food smells wafting up the stairs, you drop your head again and go back to sleep for a little while. Bucky answers the door, Melyssa coming in and heading up to your room, “Has she been okay today?” Bucky responds: “She was asleep every time I checked in on her, probably just really tired. I am gonna study, holler if you need anything.” Melyssa runs into Wanda and Nat on the stairs. “Join me up there?” She asks, knowing this visit may require extra hands. You wake to the three of them coming in the room, covered by blankets and heat blasting. “Hey Flame. Let's get some vitals and see what we can do to help you, okay? Blood is still processing, but your labs are all over the place. They are worried about an infection.” You groan at Melyssa while Nat gets you uncovered. The three of them gasp as they see the damage on your skin, Nat is down the stairs in just a few moments. “Everyone get the fuck out of the house. NOW.” The room of crim law majors clearing. “Steve, Bucky, up to Flame now!” Nobody notices Rumlow slipping into a guest bathroom and locking the door. Bucky takes the stairs three at a time, out of breath when he gets to the room Wanda and Melyssa, carefully maneuvering you so they can see and take pictures of every single scratch on your body. Wanda comes to Bucky and asks: “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!?! They were fine when I saw them last night.” Grabbing his shirt. “I swear to God if you hurt them I will kill you!I’m sure Vision and Clint will help me!” Bucky pushes Wanda aside. “They were fine when they kicked Steve and I out last night, and have been asleep every time I checked in.” Bucky comes over to you, taking your hand. “Doll, what happened? Who did this to you?” You cough a few times, voice breaking. “Walker…” Bucky’s metal arm clenches, plates gnashing together, machinery whirling.

Steve and Bucky launch into action right away.“We are going after him, he can not still be on this campus. Wanda get Vision to meet us, Nat call Clint and get him to talk to the other campus security personnel, we all heard that Walker attacked Flame. We need to find him and get some answers. Melyssa will you stay with them? I only trust you.” You continue to cough and barely understand the issue at hand. Bucky kisses you, heading to his room to put on some shoes. Steve, Nat and Wanda head to their own rooms to get everything they need and make some calls. Melyssa gets you cleaned up, reaccessing your port, and pushing the medications you missed. Sitting at the desk and charting all the issues at hand. Bucky and Steve come back in, promising to find Walker before the day is up, giving you small reassurances while you beg them to be safe. Rumlow hears vehicles starting in the driveway, and the doors slamming. He heads up to your room. “Hey, Melyssa right? Bucky asked me to sit with Flame. I am a friend from the crim law program. I can take over if you need.” He says, going to sit in the arm chair in your room. Taking out his phone and scrolling through, finding a number he is prepared to use. “Thanks I will still be here just a little bit, I want to make sure that this bag gets all finished and then set up another, they are pretty weak.'' Rumlow nods, sitting in silence, grabbing his laptop and ‘studying’. After about an hour or so Melyssa sets up the next bag of IV fluids, her phone ringing as she finishes. Taking the conversation out to the hallway, Rumlow can just barely hear her, stating she is just getting ready to leave, and that she will be there in a jiffy. “Hey, I need to go, I have another patient having issues. Can you watch Flame’s phone or let Bucky know, the last of their labs should be back in just a few hours.'' Rumlow puts on his best fake smile and charm. “Of course. I will stay until Barnes or Rogers return.” You continue to sleep, the hushed tones and pain meds keeping you lulled softly. Rumlow walks Melyssa to the door, locking the tower down and shutting off all the lights, making sure a window is open to sneak out of. Going back up to Flame’s room, searching through his backpack, finding the syringe that Pierce provided. Touching nothing but the syringe and injecting it into the bag of IV fluids, taking the syringe, taking a video of Flame twitching and seizing on the bed and leaving, heading to main campus to order food, watching from a window as Barnes and security escort Walker to a police car, a large bruise forming on his face, shirt torn.

Slamming the door shut in Walker's face, Bucky smiles, Steve giving him a disappointed look, “I just wanted to be you but better Steve.” Walker yells as they drive away. Bucky checks his phone, a text from Melyssa. -hey left flame had an emergency with another patient. Watch for a text from me later about labs.- Bucky rounds up the team and heads back to the vehicles, headed back to the Tower as quickly as possible. Walking into the tower and hearing glass shattering, Bucky runs up the stairs, finding you in your room, seizing, having pulled everything off the bedside table and on top of yourself, covered in glass and books surrounding you. He kneels next to you, seeing the blood on your forehead and then, Bucky hears something drop behind him, a sharp gasp, Wanda whipping out her phone and calling 911, Nat and Vision hitting the ground next to him, rolling Flame on their side, stopping the IV fluids, Steve rushing to the ground floor to open everything for the Medics when they arrive. “Bucky, I need you to step away, the medics will be here soon, and they need space to help Flame.” Wanda says to Bucky, pulling him away from your seizing body. “Can you find the nurse's binder to take with us, and grab them some of their favorite clothes?” The medics come in, assessing the situation, loading up your body and taking you to the nearest hospital.

Bucky sits in the waiting room for 6 hours, everyone taking turns sitting with him. Vision and Nat convince Dr. Banner to come over and take a look at the labs and scans. Steve and Bucky are talking quietly when Banner comes out, “The good news is they are alive, bad news is that their body has undergone a lot of trauma, there was experimental medication found in their bloodstream. When injected directly into the blood it causes seizures and brain damage, their body will heal, but right now I am not sure if they will wake up, we will have to continue to monitor their autonomic nervous system failure as well, because I am not sure how this will affect it.” Steve and Bucky just nod, Bucky with tears in his eyes. “We have gone ahead and placed them up in the ICU, they are in a coma, you can go up and visit whenever you are ready. The police will be coming to the house to search Flame’s room for the source of the toxic medication.” Banner walks out, leaving the boys shocked, Bucky crushes a metal travel cup in his hand. “Steve, this is all my fault! I left them. Somebody poisoned them. If they ever wake up how will they ever forgive me?” Bucky says with a sob. Steve reaches over to comfort him, pulling him in for a hug. “They won’t see it that way and you know it. Let’s go see your Doll.” The boys go up to the ICU, your still body, covered in tubes and wires, beeping of monitors, and the rise and fall of your chest forced by the ventilator you are on. Bucky grabs your hand, caressing the lines on your palm, kissing each pad, and knuckles, softly sobbing while Steve goes to find the rest of the group and inform them of what Banner said, giving you and Bucky some privacy. After a lot of guilt and yelling, the group finally goes back to the Tower, dragging Bucky along. The trend continues the next day, and the day after. Your friends are at your bedside when not in class, bringing their homework and dragging Bucky home at the end of the night. 3 weeks pass, Bucky sitting in the room, talking to you about his day, finals coming up. They are finally weaning you off the ventilator, meaning it's all on you to wake, the damage to your body healed, but your brain protecting itself. The nurses and Doctors say that talking to you is good, Steve tells you all about the games, how Walker got kicked out of the program. Wanda tells you all about how Vision, Banner and Nat have been working on a way to appeal to the FDA letting the medication be manufactured. Bucky, he tells you about everything, reading the cards you receive, the notes Steve and him have taken for you, and mostly how sorry he is. Another 2 weeks pass, the doctors saying that maybe you won't wake up. The doctors talk to your mom about options, withdrawing care, rehab, more tests. Bucky watches your mom sob, just hearing a soft “Withdraw care,” and storms into your room, “Doll, you have to wake up, you have to do it right now, I cannot live without you, I refuse. I need you, I need to be able to make up for everything that happened, the lies I told because of Pierce.” He kisses you, his last hope. “Wake up Doll, please! Do it for me, but if you can’t or don’t want to, just know that you were always it for me. My endgame, the spring to my winter, the love in my heart.” Dropping your hand and leaving the room, his goodbye was said. He goes to sit in the waiting room, while your mom says her goodbye, just waiting for the Doctor to confirm death. He and your mom sit vigil, the rest of the crew coming and going, sharing stories, giving you last goodbyes. A flurry of activity in the hallway by your room, when the doctor comes out, scrub cap in hand. “They-” Bucky’s heart stops, gasps fill the room, “Flame is asking for you Bucky.'' His head whips up, jumping out of his chair and sprinting to your room. There you are, eyes open, propped against the pillows, a weak smile on your face. “Hey Buck, I love you too. Thanks for being my Prince Charming.”

[floral-poisons]

twst characters: their genshin visions & weapons

this happens to be another shower thought i had. my brain is so hyperactive with its imagination. i cannot deal with constantly thinking about twisted wonderland aus.

anyways so this is me assigning members of the twst cast their genshin vision and what their weapon would be. for people who don’t know, genshin impact (genshin for short) is an open world gacha game created by mihoyo. it’s got intricate character designs and a pretty cool stories. visions are basically elemental powers and all of the playable characters have a vision of some sort. there are 7 visions:

pyro (fire)

anemo (air)

hydro (water)

electro (electric)

cryo (ice)

dendro (flora)

geo (stone)

genshin also features 5 weapon types:

swords

claymores / great swords

polearms / lances

bows

catalysts

now with that intro done, i’m just going to assign the twst cast their vision and weapon. you can feel free to tell me if you think a character would be something else. i’d love to hear about it!

NRC STAFF

dire crowley

unknown. no one has any idea. but we do know crowley is a catalyst user. he never seems to use his vision though.

ashton vargas

no vision but uses a claymore as a weapon.

mozus trein

cryo catalyst. probably a scholar who studied at the famous at sumeru academia, a famous institute in arcana arts and historical documents.

divus crewel

geo sword. is definitely an alchemist similar to albedo. probably studying to try to manufacture a vision. elemental ability is similar to albedo’s.

sam

anemo catalyst. is a merchant who travels frequently (i know i said this in my high fantasy au head canons) and probably uses his vision to help move around easier.

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia

dendro polearm. but because malleus is already strong, i believe he would have a delusion like childe. the delusion is basically a second (fake) vision. his delusion would be pyro and shockingly, malleus would be able to use a catalyst in his delusion state too.

lilia vanrouge

electro polearm. his elemental burst has something to deal with bats, probably made of pure electro energy. i think lilia can also pass as a healer too.

silver

electro sword. he doesn’t even really need his vision because his swordsmanship skills are already really well polished. but his elemental burst is scary powerful.

sebek zigvolt

anemo claymore. probably does some really intense dps (damage per second). i think his elemental burst would involve wielding a claymore out of pure anemo energy.

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts

pyro catalyst. but on top of that, i think riddle would have a delusion much like childe and malleus. his delusion would probably be electro.

trey clover

anemo polearm. elemental burst is probably similar to lumine/aether’s anemo burst.

cater diamond

cryo bow. very sneaky with his shots of cryo. i imagine his elemental burst would be similar to keqing’s since his signature spell involves creating clones of himself.

ace trappola

pyro sword. his elemental burst definitely involves large ass flames and extending his sword’s reach with pure elemental energy.

deuce spade

geo catalyst. his signature spell involves magic bouncing back on his enemies so his elemental burst is probably a massive shield that causes attacks to bounce back onto the enemy.

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit

electro catalyst. this man has the PRETTIEST elemental burst to ever exist! does some really extreme damage too.

rook hunt

hydro bow. elemental ability is similar to childe’s where he can form a sword made of pure hydro energy. works as a perfectly complement to vil.

epel felmier

cryo sword. given three elemental strikes of cryo. i feel like his elemental burst might involve a bird of some kind. probably a healer.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar

geo polearm. creates a shield. elemental burst involves strikes of geo that cause his enemies to freeze. might be a little op. but listen this man’s signature spell involves him turning anything he touches to sand so...

ruggie bucchi

hydro bow. elemental ability would probably be similar to xingqiu’s and his burst involves creating a whirlpool of some kind.

jack howl

geo claymore. his elemental burst looks similar to razor’s (because of their wolf connection).

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto

hydro catalyst. his elemental burst is definitely big and does some big time damage. probably similar to mona in regards for money. his vision does further damage when combined with jade and floyd’s.

jade leech

cryo sword. his swordsmanship is elegant. plus his vision is a perfect complement with his brother’s.

floyd leech

pyro claymore. i know floyd would be so ecstatic to wield a giant sword. naturally his vision goes hand in hand with jade’s.

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim

geo polearm. he gives me polearm vibes. i would say his ability provides a shield and his burst creates a wave of geo to crystalize his enemies.

jamil viper

pyro catalyst. elemental burst probably involves some sort of snake. extremely talented with his catalyst.

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud

pyro catalyst. catalyst is the only weapon because it doesn’t actually require idia to use a melee weapon.

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

I’ve been a hermit ever since covid dropped lol. Yes, you’re doing social distancing right. Imagine going outside? Ptff, what a weird concept. But I’m happy you’ve stuck around for so long despite the constant brainworms I have. Oho?? More crumbs 👀 Lemme just crack my knuckles real quick. I’m throwing a reader in just so I have an excuse to tag everyone haha. These are a lot more scuffy compared to my usual HCs but let me brainrot for a sec. 

---

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Roomate HCs [V1]

Genshin: Mythos AU - Cat Xiao

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​​ @diaxfeliz​​ @wintergreen-aix​​ @aethwie​​ @thegayrubberducky​​ @lovelykittycatmeow​​​ @yuunoagivesmelife​​ @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​​ @minakohasmanyhusbandos​​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​​  @qimiie @onowie​​ @hanniejji​​​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @legionqueensav​​​ @castinluckgamer​​​

---

Zhongli

Your first impressions of Zhongli was that he was an egotistical and selfish brat. To be fair, you might have adopted some of those qualities yourself but you were both children at the time. Your sister, Guizhong, was tasked to take care of Zhongli in place of his parents which lead to your first meeting with the infamous Imperial Prince. At first, you were excited to finally meet someone who was the same age as you and Guizhong was always so kind. But when he turned to face you two, he just asked if Guizhong was supposed to be his concubine. You weren’t sure whether to gag or throw your shoe at him but Guizhong quickly intercepted before you could do anything that could get you killed. It’s only until you spent more time with him that Zhongli tells you that he has never had someone care for him or want to spend time with him without some alterative motive. 

Zhongli radiates sheltered child from birth. To outsiders, he seems really slow on normal everyday tasks but that’s because he’s never had to worry about doing mundane things. He’s always had someone else to do them for him that when he’s out in public, he just stands around and waits for someone to help him. It’s incredibly awkward for everyone in the situation when Zhongli forgets to bring mora and just stands off to the side until one of his servants comes to pick up his check. That’s how Zhongli got such a bad reputation of being a spoiled brat despite being a well-mannered and polite man. When he drops something he just turns to look at you, back at the object, then back at you. You have to pound it into your brain that no, Zhongli is not a lazy and he isn’t trying to be insulting, that’s just how he’s lived his life. When you tell him he is fully capable to picking things up, because what if he dropped something important when he was older and the wind swept it away, he pounders the thought as if you’ve just explained the meaning of the celestials to him that you give up and just pick it up for him. 

A Prince from Mondstadt named Venti used to come to Liyue for playdates while their father’s talked business and politics. He was the complete opposite of Zhongli but you genuinely liked him. While he was a bit more bolder and hyper compared to the calm and quiet Zhongli, he would always try and get Zhongli out of the palace and outside. You end up missing so many fun and interesting things when you’re locked up in your study room. How can the next Emperor care about his land when he doesn’t even know what it’s like to live there? It was the first time you and Zhongli went out just for fun and you might have gone a bit overboard in hindsight, but Venti’s personality and the feeling of freedom to do anything was addicting. Plus, watching Zhongli’s reactions to all these new feelings made him feel a bit more human. While you knew that Zhongli would do everything for Liyue, you never got the impression that his heart was in it. 

From then on, you and Zhongli try and carve some time out of his schedule to go down to the streets and have a little bit of a break. When you both built kites and scaled all the way to the mountains to fly them, it was the first time you’ve seen Zhongli be bad at something. He always had such elegance and perfection whenever his teachers asked him to do something but as soon as the kite took flight, it would stumble then come crashing down. Zhongli had the most heartbroken puppy expression on his face that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. While you’re on the ground gasping for air and probably have the most ridiculous expression on your face, Zhongli smiles gently as he looks at you then back to Liyue. The moment is ruined when Guizhong comes running towards you both and scolds you for sneaking out. 

While it’s somewhat annoying when other attendants in palace gush about how well Zhongli is growing into becoming the next emperor, both in smarts and appearance, you have to somewhat agree with them in some places. If you want to know the history of Liyue or how to properly place a tea set, he can tell you in incredible detail. However, when it comes to social cues and interactions, he’s awful at them. Everything is treated a business deal that it makes everyone somewhat nervous or uncomfortable that you’re internally dying at any social event he goes to. But despite the awkwardness, he has a lot of admires that frequently send him letters of marriage or adoration that you have to shift through. It makes you a bit uncomfortable reading the flowery language but it surprised you a bit how many people have the misconception that Zhongli planning to have you as his spouse. When you mention this to Zhongli as a joke, he returns to his thinking pose and he contemplates the idea before nodding and agreeing with the letters. He proposes to you right then and there and it’s such a sudden development that your brain has finally broke and you pass out. 

Venti

Venti is one of those royalty types that spends so much time outside and away from his duties that he’s basically thrown his cape and crown to the wind. The first time Zhongli visited Monstadt, his first impressions of Venti were him singing to a crowd. While Zhongli doesn’t understand why Venti would spend his time on music rather than his studies, they still get along well. Mostly because Venti has a very easy going personality, even if he’s a bit blunt, but whatever comments he makes fly over Zhongli’s head. Unlike him, you’re the complete opposite. You’re a knight in training with an earnest heart that wants to protect the City of Mondstadt with your entire being. While you don’t necessarily hate Venti, because he never asked to be born into the royal family, you can’t help but get frustrated at his nonchalant attitude towards everything aside from alcohol and music. 

Your first meeting with him was during your time training under the Favonius Knights. You wanted to get a bit more practice late in the night when Venti stumbled upon you bullying a poor wooden dummy before he announces his arrival. He laughs a bit at your fumbling as you quickly get into a proper kneel but he waves it off saying it was unnecessary before he asks what you’re up to. You’re in mid-explanation when Venti cuts you off with a yawn and you can feel the irritation creeping up on you as you snap back why he’s outside instead of inside the safe walls of the castle. Your irritation grows even further when Venti smugly grins, patting himself on the back from getting a rise out of you, before he reaches into the bag you just noticed he was carrying to produce sheets of music. 

While his teacher’s drone on and on about the production of wine, he is busy writing songs in his textbooks. While he understands the importance of his role, he thinks the people can rule themselves just fine without his help. He wants to leave his crown and become a bard and live an ordinary but free life. How he’s always sneaking out to go explore without the world constantly breathing down his neck. Whether his posture is correct or if he’s memorized the history of berries wouldn’t matter. Honestly, Venti is weighing his options of either staying as a royal or leaving everything behind to pursue the life he wants. When he finishes his heart-felt speech he expects you to give him those same pitiful and woe is you eyes but you’re just angry. You can understand his sentiment, living a life that you never asked for isn’t fun, but suddenly packing your things and jumping ship would only cause chaos and conflict. At least have some sort of replacement before you leave damnit. 

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, rather than taking offense to you, a nameless knight, basically insulting the him, the Prince, he lights up in excitement. He rips his cape and crown off before he’s shoving them onto you before you can even say anything. He’s almost bouncing on his feet as he tells you that you can freely take his crown and become the next in line. You have no idea how that would work but he mentions that he knows a man named Albedo that can help change your appearance to look like him. That way, you get to protect the City you love so much and he get’s to live the life he’s always wanted. It’s completely fool proof with no flaws whatsoever! Except for the fact, that he is jumping way too far to conclusions, he’s shoving his responsibilities onto you, and most importantly, you don’t the first thing about Venti and how to act like him. 

Before you know it, Venti has dragged you to meet his Father to personally appoint you as his personal knight. He doesn’t take no for an answer even though you aren’t qualified at all to be protecting someone of high position as him but Venti’s always been a handful that someone needs to watch over him. You have no idea how one night managed to throw your entire life into this chaos but you’re not sure if you can even get out of this situation at this point. 

Kaeya

It all happened so suddenly. You and him were playing in the gardens when his father rushed in and took both of your hands and dragged you to the border to Khaenri’ah. The land you were both used to seeing, the friendly baker that would always give you both sweets, or the magic that used to flow so freely was transformed into red cubes. You were both scared and confused but as you both reached the border oh Khaenri’ah, a large gate that leads to the above world of Teyvat, his father tells you both to run as far as you could and never look back before he pushed you both in. It wasn’t until years later that you both discovered that a corrupted god had taken control of Khaenri’ah. Now, everyone believes that the Khaenri’ah prince is dead because he’s been missing for so long and whatever hope Khaenri’ah has is gone. For his own safety, he had to change his name to Kaeya and you both found yourself at the gates of Mondstadt. 

It took a lot of adjusting for the both of you but Kaeya especially. Your mother had dropped you into the care of Kaeya’s family for a short while before everything went downhill. She was a bit on the neglectful side but she was still your mother and you knew she was alive. On the other hand, Kaeya lost his entire family and nation in a single moment. Whatever pure happiness and bright personality he used to have quickly regressed until he was a shy and quiet kid. You know he blames himself for what happened even if there wasn’t anything he could have done but he’s grown a fear of outsiders so he tends to avoid other children his age. Instead finding comfort in playing with the funny looking abyss mages and slimes that are on the outskirt of Mondstadt. While he doesn’t seem bothered by the weird comments other people make of him, you know deep down he does get hurt, that it makes you so mad that you end up lashing out. 

You end up getting into a few fights as Kaeya patches you up. He scolds you and says that he doesn’t need you to go so far for him is when you make him a promise that you’ll protect him with everything you have. It’s the first moment since everything happened that he seems to gain back that life in his eyes. He blinks at you before he chuckles sheepishly and comments that you can’t even tie your shoes correctly do you stumble a bit. You’re a bit embarrassed at your sudden proclamation but stand determined about it. You both end up making a pinky promise to stay by each other’s side until the very end. 

When you’re both older and in the position of Captain and Teacher in the Favonius Knights is when he seems to be a bit more open. You both end up gaining a reputation of the laid-back Calvary Captain that bother’s the strict but kind Teacher. He’s always waltzing in the middle of you class to tease you before you end up throwing something at him to get him to stop embarrassing you in front of new recruits. You end up getting back at him with your woe is me acting and push all your paper work on him. Since he loves spending so much time in your class, he should know how to do all your paper work right?. Despite all of this, if anyone needs to find Kaeya or you, you’re basically a packaged deal. Always attached to the hip. 

Kaeya knows deep down, at some point he’s going to have to go back to Khaenri’ah and save his people but he’s conflicted. While he knows it’s selfish that he get’s to live a life of freedom, he wants to be selfish. Not just for him but for you as well. You’ve both basically lost everything and now that things are okay, he doesn’t want to give that up. While you both promised to stay together until the end, you’re the only person he has left and he doesn’t want to rope you into his mess or have you worry about him. He’s heard of the blond traveler in black and blue that is searching for the lost prince of an unnamed kingdom, knows that the peaceful life he has right now will come to an end, but he pushes it aside. Besides, there are more important things to attend to. Today might be the day he tells your students about how you fell into a lake because you got scared by a frog. 

Jean

Jean is incredibly dedicated to her role and to her people because she’s genuinely a good person and wants to see people happy. Especially her sister Barbara. She’s a bit awkward and clumsy in her execution but she has a lot of heart. Being her personal knight, you know just how hard she works and you admire her greatly for her ideals and nature. She has such a professional and gentle façe when she’s out in public but as soon as she’s behind closed doors, she’s collapsing into your arms as the world lifts for a short while. You chuckle a bit amused at how different she appears to the outside world, how the ever prime and proper Princess wakes up with a rat’s nest, how her favourite food is pizza, or how she throws these 7 inch heels out the window as soon as a ball is over. 

Due to Jean’s kind-hearted nature, when it comes to more pushy people she can’t seem to say no to. Travelers or citizens that think they can take advantage of the Princess is what makes your blood boil. While she isn’t stupid and knows that people are taking advantage of her, she wants to extend any help she can. Not for her public image but because that’s how she is. While it warms your heart that people like her exist, as her knight you can only let so many things slide. When some shady peddler tries to lead Jean somewhere, you’re already stepping in and smilingly sweetly as you grip the peddler’s hand in a death grip and not so subtlety say that he better have a good excuse for why he wants to drag the Princess away or there might be a problem. 

When Jean is overworking herself and nearing her breaking point is when you step in. You may be her knight but you’re also her friend and you know when it’s time to stop her destructive habits. She might complain and reassure you that she’s fine but you don’t accept that. If she was “fine” her temperature wouldn’t be the same level as a pyro slime and she wouldn’t have such dark circles under her eyes. It’s a simple bend and lift to carry her in your arms that she ends up stuttering before going pink and let’s you carry her to her room. While she’s screaming into her hands, you’re preparing medicine and everything she’ll need to make a full recovery. 

The hardest times for Jean is when her Father constantly pesters her to find a husband. Jean is an independent person and while yes, while being a workaholic isn’t against help, but she doesn’t believe she needs a husband just to make her entitled to rule her kingdom. Besides, Jean is secretly a hopeless romantic. You’re very tight lipped about secretly finding her love story books hidden under her bed unless you want to see her self-combust. You try your best to comfort her but there’s not a lot you can do for her situation other than offer words of reassurance and try and get her mind off things. While you’re patting her on the back she’s looking at you as if you’re the most oblivious person in the world. 

Albedo

Albedo is a renowned alchemist that helps royal families with their problems with the use of his intelligence and abilities in alchemy. Something that only a few people can do throughout Teyvat, you being one of them as well. At first, you had admired Albedo and his abilities and saw him as a bit of a role model for young alchemist. Until you actually met him in person. He’s pretty much an emotionless void of a person that he comes off as extremely unempathetic when he listens to the woes of royals. While you sort of agree, the problems that royal’s commission you for are completely ridiculous and selfish, he doesn’t have a moral compass and if he can benefit from it. He’ll do it, no matter how questionable it may seem. 

Maybe it’s because you have a little sister figure in your life to stir your moral compass but it still get’s you irritated. It’s always a joy to see Klee when you come back home from your travels that whatever bad mood you were in suddenly washes away. But when you knock on Alice’s door only to have it open to reveal Albedo holding Klee in his arms does your world come crashing down. Klee is completely ignorant to your internal screams as she scrabbles out of Albedo’s hands to give you a hug and take your hand in hers as she leads you inside. You can almost feel the inner workings of Albedo’s mind as he stares at you blankly as Klee shows you the new art she drew.  

You both don’t mention or talk about it even when you happen to cross each other’s paths outside or you both end up seeing each other at Alice’s home. It’s a bit funny to you, to the outside world Albedo seems so aloof and untouchable, and yet you’re here watching him get tired from chasing Klee around and trying to stop her destroying her home with her bombs. It almost makes you smug when Klee listens to you better than Albedo, it might seem a bit petty and small but you don’t care. He ends up getting back at you when he ends up one-upping you in front of the royal court. He does a quick scan of the room before his eyes land on you and he shoots you a small smug smile before his face returns to it’s neutral expression. You’re clapping along with everyone with the most strained smile you can muster. 

You manage to find out from Klee that Albedo enjoys drawing that the next time you see him, you ask if you could see him draw something or if he had sketches on hand. You’re fascinated by his drawings, more so than his actual research discoveries, as you look at the tiny details he’s managed to capture. Outside of Klee, no one’s really been interested in his drawings that he can’t help but feel a little flustered when you’re gushing about his work. It’s different from people praising his alchemist efforts, you’re not someone whose staring at him like he’s on a pedestal when you say you like his drawings, and it feels genuine. He offers a small smile and says that if you’d like, he’d love to show you some more sketches. 

You’ve never noticed it until other people bring it up but Albedo seems close to you. Usually once he’s done his business he leaves but if you happen to be around, he sticks around a bit longer just to speak with you. How he seems comfortable to relax in your presence and even leans in closer. How he complies with your requests without any benefit to him. You’re not sure what type of relationship you hold with Albedo. You don’t think you’re friends but you’re definitely closer than acquaintance. If taking care of a a hyper active walking bomb doesn’t bring two people closer than you don’t know what does. But at the end of the day, you find you don’t really care. Not everything needs to be labelled and categorized like things are in alchemy. People don’t seem to understand but you always duck out and escape before you’re questioned further about your personal life. Unbeknownst to you, Albedo is watching you go as he ponders your words. 

Childe

Childe is such a clown. He’s an assassin that doesn’t know the first thing about being subtle and is just in it for the fighting. He’s really just an incredibly egotistical bastard that likes being friendly with his targets, just to see their shocked expressions when it’s him that comes to take their life. He’s actually a pretty down to earth guy. While other assassins in the Fatui either have tragic backstories or some sad pitiful tale, Childe just laughs at them. His family is still alive and he’s never had any true hardships in his life. He’s pretty disliked for this reason but he’s a skilled enough fighter that it somewhat makes up for it. 

Just when Childe’s life is at its peak, is when he slips and falls into the abyss. For the first time, he had to face against a threat and in a situation he has no control over which is completely foreign to him. He barely manages to survive until he’s saved by an unknown figure that goes by the name Skirk. While he’s grateful he’s still alive, facing his mortality for the first time gives him a lot to reflect about. Thus he makes the impulse decision to train under Skirk and grow stronger until he’s able to climb out of the abyss. That’s when he meets you who was travelling with Skirk for the same reasons. Your first interactions with this unknown teen is him challenging you to a fight, just for you to throw him over your shoulder as if he weighed nothing. You expected him to get angry or cry but instead he’s standing right back up and grinning like a psychopath as he asks for another fight. You’re looking at Skirk with the most, are we seriously bringing this child with us? look. 

From then on, it’s been the three of you travelling through the floors of the abyss. Skirk tells you the stories of this place, how it used to be a great nation before corruption cause the citizens to be morphed and transformed into monsters. You and Childe learn how to fight alongside Skirk against these monsters until it ends up becoming a competition between you and Childe on who can kill the most monsters. Skirk is a bit worried that when you both are back into the outside world, if he should be worried about how morbid you both might appear. But while you’re both yelling at each other who actually landed the last kill on the regisvine while the hilichurls are cowering in a corner does he just accept that things aren’t going to change. The world will just have to accept it. If you both actually teamed up, and you have before, he thinks you both would be unstoppable but you’re both too stubborn. 

Despite your rivalry, Childe still has his big brother instincts that whenever you get hurt he’s huffing over you like a mother hen as he scolds you for being so reckless. You’re ignoring the fact that he’s bleeding out while you have minor cuts because you don’t want a crybaby Childe on your hands. Even the harsh conditions of the Abyss, you both find ways to entertain yourself. Childe always challenges you to a fight every second of the day and he always ends up with a sore back when you knock him off his feet. And he always makes the joke that you’re sweeping him off his feet which ends up with him screaming bloody murder as you charge at him. It doesn’t help when he’s still yelling comments behind his shoulder that you might get mistaken for a gorilla when you’re both outside that Skirk has gotten so used to this that he simply ignores the attempted murder going on behind him. 

When you’re both strong enough to climb to the gate of the Abyss, Skirk feels almost like a proud parent. Giving you a head pat and a hard slap to the back for Childe does Skirk wave you both off. You’re trying to mask your tears as Childe grins and promises to see you on the other side, that you’ll definitely meet up in the future no matter what. But when he finally returns to the Fatui, works his way back up to being an assassin, he almost thinks Skirk is laughing at him when he realizes that his first target is you. Not that he’s bothered by it, he'll be happy to see you again and see if he can finally beat you. 

Baizhu

Baizhu is the most suspicious doctor in the history of all doctors. Some citizens aren’t even sure if he’s a qualified doctor but alas, he’s very good at his job and is a lot more tolerable compared to the Alchemist Albedo so that’s how he’s been able to keep his job. He works under the Liyue emperor so even if citizens had issues with him, it’s not like they could do anything in the first place. People aren’t sure whether he’s joking or being honest when he explains what he’s been privately working on behind the scenes. From experiments to rituals, they are taken aback but Baizhu just smiles and says he’s just kidding. Being his assistant, you have to constantly reassure others that Baizhu is a bit of a sadist and likes to get a rise out of people. Besides, why would a doctor be so interested in those type of things? It’s incredibly unnerving but no one questions it. They won’t know what to do in the first place if their suspicious are correct. 

While Baizhu knows how to do his job, he’s always sending you to do the dirty work. From getting medicinal plants up on the very top of mountains or bringing cranky old men their prescriptions, whenever you’re done one task he’s got three more for you. He could at the very least take the trash out while he’s busy doing nothing. At least the job has a few perks. You’ve always had numerous health issues and while Baizhu’s reputation is a bit on thin ice, you wouldn’t trust anyone else to look you over. He’s a bit weird about it, you’re pretty sure Baizhu will never love another person emotionally but when it comes to the science behind a human body, he’s absolutely smitten. He tries to reassure you that he does care for the wellbeing of Liyue but you wave it off at him trying to butter you up before he asks something ridiculous of you. 

You and his snake, Changsheng, do not like each other. You think she’s an annoying and bratty snake that Baizhu needs to throw into a jar to shut up while she thinks you’re a complete nuisance and doesn’t understand why Baizhu keeps you around. Baizhu has tried to get you both to reconcile but it always devolves into a petty argument of back-handed insults until Baizhu has enough and tells you both to quiet down. To be truthful, both of your hatred towards each other stems from two completely different reasons rather than disliking each other’s personality, but you can never bring it up to Baizhu. It’s not a conversation anyone wants to have. 

If he has one positive, it’s his adopted daughter Qiqi who is just an absolute sweetheart. She’s shy and prefers to follow after Baizhu and you like a lost duckling. While Baizhu might be the worst boss in this history of all bosses, it makes you grin smugly internally when Qiqi chooses to stay cuddled in your arms instead of his. Qiqi is 95% the reason why you stay in this job, not that Baizhu would ever let you leave, because you’ve genuinely grown fond of someone for the first time the same way she has for you. You bring her along whenever you need to give prescriptions to citizens just so she isn’t stuck in within the same four walls and the locals love her. From her forgetful nature or how she shy’s behind your legs whenever someone new approach's you both. It’s so cute that people tend to ignore the floating rumours that Baizhu is reanimating his previously deceased family. 

---

I have no idea if I’m just uncultured or if “Always and Forever” Au’s are a thing. I hope you all like this 👉👈 it’s kind of messy and all over the place and I lowkey don’t know if I like my brainrot (there’s a lot of issues ik). I kinda want to do a part 2 where I include other characters but let me know if that’s something interesting? Oh and feel free to add to this, I’d love to hear your ideas. 

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[cha-melodius]

Tagged by @lgwilt​ on this post of writer asks for fanfic writer appreciation day. Thanks so much again for the tag! I’m putting most of this below a cut because it got long!

— How long have you been writing fanfiction? 

In total? Errr more than 25 years. But there was a long gap in there!

— Do you have a favorite word? (One that you love. Doesn’t necessarily have to be one you use all the time.)

I feel like I have one, but I really have no idea what it is. (This question made me wish there was some algorithm that would look at all of my works on AO3 and tell me what the most commonly used words are lol)

— Share a favorite run-on sentence that you’ve written.

I purposefully use run-on sentences a lot when I want to show a character drowning in their emotions/feelings. Here are two quite long ones that I found that I particularly like:

It’s not like he wants to spend a night with Loki, that’s insane, but that fact hasn’t stopped his mind from helpfully replaying the feeling of Loki’s fingers curled around his wrist, or how he’d pressed close as they hid just outside the collective’s hideout, waiting for an opportunity to slip away so Mobius could call for backup and Loki could disappear into the shadows again. (—from What Makes A Good Man)

Or, they had seemed that way, until Illya caught himself staring breathlessly at the line of Napoleon’s neck as he craned for a better view of something, or the way his lips pouted when he found his glass of scotch mysteriously empty, or the way his hips moved subtly when he danced to a song only he could hear in the privacy of their suite. (—from Love is a Chemical)

— Share a bit of a scene that you’ve written that still gives you FEELS.

How about: basically the entire end of You, or Your Memory, which I don’t want to spoil for anyone who hasn’t read it. But here’s one part of it:

No one—no one—has ever kissed Loki like this. Not even close. Mobius kisses him with a reverence that is truly shattering, like he savoring every second of contact, like Loki is the only thing in the entire universe that matters. He cradles Loki’s jaw with tenderness that is completely at odds with the way Loki’s hands are twisted the front of his jacket, clinging with a desperation that he’d no doubt find disgraceful if he had even a remote corner of his mind to devote to the thought. As it is, though, he doesn’t. Mobius’s lips are delicate and demanding in turn, setting a pace that makes it feel as if they could keep kissing for the rest of time.

— What is your favorite kind of character interaction to write? 

Enemies (or rivals) to friends to lovers is definitely my favorite dynamic. I can’t get enough!

— Do you have a hyper-specific genre?

I don’t think so! I mean, the single genre I write the most in is spy fiction, but that’s not really hyper-specific. I have too much fun bouncing around in different AUs.

— Any personal or frequently used tags?

“Food as a Metaphor for Love” is in there a lot, but one of my non-standard personal AO3 tags that I love is “soft boys being soft”. According to AO3 my two most-used tags (tied for first) are “Getting Together” and “Angst with a Happy Ending”, which sounds about right.

— Share a joke or funny moment that you’ve written that still makes you laugh.

It’s not really easily shared moment, but one of my first Napollya fics (Light Will Keep Your Heart Beating in the Future) contains a recurring joke about defenestrations in Prague and it always delights me to no end when someone comments on it lol.

— Best editing tip?

Read dialogue out loud to help figure out if the flow is natural.

— What drives you to write?

All these stories in my head busting to get out! And to be honest with you, getting to share them all with you, and hopefully bringing other people joy in reading them.

— Share something about your writing that you have wished someone would ask you about. Or alternatively, something that you are just really proud of.

One of my favorite things is surprising my readers with a twist. When I started plotting out long stories instead of writing them on the fly, I discovered the joy of seeding lots of foreshadowing and hints in the story prior to the twist, which I think (hope!) really makes rereads even better.

— Where do you draw inspiration?

From all around me, really. Sometimes from other media or things I’ve read, sometimes from friends’ ideas or prompts.

— What is your immediate reaction when you receive a new comment on a fic?

Sheer, unadulterated joy? 😅

— What is your biggest challenge in writing?

Probably staying motivated without external validation. It’s why I tend to post multichaps as I’m writing them, because it’s hard to put a lot of effort into a long story and not know if anyone actually cares about it.

— 1–2 sentence preview from your current WIP?? (Only if you are willing.)

I feel bad because my active WIP is in a new-to-me fandom that literally no one on tumblr follows me for, but so it goes! (I’m not abandoning my old fandoms, don’t worry, but I have to get this story out of my head...)

Alex knows his food is damned good, he’s got no false modesty there, but he’s rarely had such a reaction to someone enjoying his cooking. Maybe it’s the way that Henry moans when he takes the first bite that’s making his face feel hot, or the way he shamelessly chases the errant sauce that runs down his long fingers with his tongue that has sweat beading up at his temples. Maybe it’s just really hot in this kitchen.

— What story or scene are you most proud of?

Everyone’s probably tired of hearing me say this, but Love is a Losing Game. I mean, I’m proud of a lot of my stories, but that is the one that really feels like a complete and original novel, even if most of the characters aren’t mine.

— Please link your profile so we can admire your works!

chamel on AO3

[the-void-i-scream-into]

White Tulips - Cut Chapter

Hey Everyone. I hope who ever reads this is happy and healthy. So I wrote this idea for my Han Seojun x Kang Sujin fanfic but it didn’t really fit the story at the time, even though I had set it up in the published story twice, so I cut it. But I still loved this idea so I wanted to share it here. 

I would have shared it earlier but I was trying to get the Joseon Era AU started before that but man, have I been struggling with that story. Writing historic fanfic is HARD! Anyway I still wanted to leave this here. Hope you all like it. 

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Word Count: 1.7k 

Rating: Slightly Mature... or maybe PG 15? I dunno. I am bad with ratings

i.

For all of his flaws, Han Seojun had one thing going for him. He was unashamed. Unashamed of his slight lack of academic intelligence, unashamed of his troublemaker persona, and definitely unashamed of losing to Kang Sujin at everything imaginable.

“Ah-nee, how could you get so good at basketball?” He panted, pulling up his shirt to wipe his brow, not because he was sweaty, but because he wanted Sujin to stare at his abs.

“I was always good, Han Seojun.” Sujin said proudly, holding the basketball by her waist as she unabashedly eyed his abs. “I told you, I was just off my game that day.”

“You were distracted by my face.” Seojun smirked.

“Of course, I was. I had a massive crush on you.” She grinned, kissing him.

“Ooooh, chagi, you had a crush on meee.” Seojun teased like a school boy who had discovered her most embarrassing secret.

“We’re practically married.” Sujin pointed out dryly, the fact that they had been together for over a year now.

“Still.” Seojun grinned.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I finally did beat you.” Sujin countered.

Seojun didn’t tell her that he had let her win today. Her loved her competitiveness and the giddy way she grinned when she won. If Seojun could, he would let her win everything her heart desired. But this he would never tell her, mostly because she would kill him. And Seojun really wanted to live, especially now that he had someone else to live with.

“Technically, we’re at a draw. You only cancelled out your win from back then.” He stated. The two had started packing their things. Sujin dumped her water bottle in their gym bag.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m about to win this argument.” Sujin grinned an evil grin, leaning closer. She spoke in a sing-song voice, “I know your big secret.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Seojun smirked. He was an open book, there was nothing he ever hid from anyone. And even if he did, there was nothing he was ashamed of.

Sujin took out her phone and pressed play.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

“Told you I would find out.” Sujin’s evil grin spread wide as Seojun’s smug smile wavered.

Oh no.

It turned out that here indeed was one thing that Han Seojun was ashamed of.

“Ya, Kang Sujin!” Seojun went for her phone but she bounced out of his way, skipping backward.

“What’s wrong, Seojun-ah? Don’t like this song?” She asked in mock innocence.

Oh God, the horror. The pain, the anguish! The embarrassment!

“Ya! Come here!” Seojun ran after her and she sprinted away from him, running around the court. “Stop playing that!”

“No way. This is my new favorite song.” Sujin shouted back breathlessly as she ran full speed. Seojun caught up with her and she squealed and laughed as he held her by the waist.

“Are you not going to stop?” He didn’t lunge for her phone. Instead opted to tickle her, making her squeal some more, laughing uncontrollably.

“I cave! I cave!” She said, her eyes tearing up from the laughing.

Seojun took her phone and turned off the song. Sujin was red from laughter and Seojun felt an ache to kiss her then and there. But he didn’t want to encourage her triggering the PTSD he had from that embarrassing incident in high school.

“Lim Jukyung is such a traitor. I can’t believe she told you.”

“I’m your girlfriend. Of course, she told me. Shouldn’t I know you were dancing around half naked in front of another woman?” Sujin wiped the tears from her eyes, still shaking from the aftershocks of laughing.

“Aish! That was so embarrassing. I never want to remember that happened.” Seojun admitted, going red as he thought back to when he had been dancing around in his house, wearing nothing but his underwear and had failed to notice that Lim Jukyung had been there with his sister the entire time.

“Waeeee? I find it funny.” And then she burst out laughing again. Han Seojun walked away in a huff. He couldn’t face the embarrassment any longer, especially not in front of Sujin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sujin chased after him.

Han Seojun would have buried the incident again, along with his memory of that song but then there it was again.

That dreaded song.

They were having lunch with everyone; Jukyung, Suho, Taehoon, Suah and his squad with Chorong, when suddenly, he heard the tune faintly.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun thought he was imagining it. But then Sujin took out her phone and the song played clearer. That damn woman had set it as her ring tone.

That dreaded song.

“Oops, getting a call. Be right back.” Sujin said with just enough pretend innocence that it passed off as sincere to others, but he knew. He knew.

Han Seojun glared at Jukyung accusingly and she made an apologetic face. Luckily, no one else seemed to pick up on Seojun’s discomfort. Suho did give him a pointed look but Suho knew that he did not have the privilege of making fun of Seojun the way Sujin did. And that wasn’t a matter of Seojun getting mad at him. It was a matter of Kang Sujin destroying anyone who would say one syllable against her boyfriend.

“Sujinnie,” Seojun pouted like a child that night as they made dinner, “I don’t like your ringtone.”

Her phone had been ringing all day. A little too frequently, Seojun had noticed. It was almost as if Sujin had scheduled all of her calls to today just to mess with him.

“Oh, should I change it?” She asked causally, “Okay, you pick something you like.”

Seojun grinned and padded over to the counter, setting her ringtone to one of his songs.

That night Seojun had gone to sleep thinking that chapter of his embarrassing event was over. He dreamed peacefully of being on stage and serenading Sujin with the songs he had written for her. But then his dream was interrupted with that jingle again.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Seojun woke up with a gasp. No, it wasn’t just his dream. The song was actually playing. Sujin stirred and shut off her alarm.

Her alarm that was set to play Okey Dokey.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo! Seojun screamed in his head, cursing the storm he imagined himself drowning in. He loved Kang Sujin. He could never deny her anything, even if it led to his own torment.

But why, why out of everything she had to choose this.

Sujin got up, and didn’t even notice Seojun stuff his head in his pillow as she went to the bathroom.

“Hyung, are you okay?” One of his bandmates asked upon seeing Seojun’s dark circles and dead expression.

“Huh? I’m okey, dokey.” He responded dreamily. The band member backed away in concern.

ii.

Ever since they had gotten close, Seojun had stopped challenging her. True, they would still tease and play the push-pull game but it wasn’t like it had been before. Before they had felt like equals. Now it felt like Sujin had all the power and oddly enough, she didn’t like that. She worried it might get too boring for Han Seojun. She worried it wasn’t good for him to coddle her so much. He needed to have just as much of a say in things as she did.

She had meant the song to just stir some new challenge between them. He would respond with embarrassment and demand that she gets rid of the song. He would finally set a line for her; a restriction and she would comply to and balance would be restored. No longer would she be the one dictating everything.

But it had the opposite effect. Sujin hadn’t realized how it was torturing him till she saw him jump when they passed by a store that had been coincidentally playing the song.

“It’s following me.” Seojun had hissed. Sujin became worried she had gone too far. She hadn’t realized how much the incident had affected him.

Fortunately, Sujin knew what to do.

Come home early tonight. Sujin’s text came.

“Is everything okay?” He asked the second he entered. Sujin never asked him to be home early, knowing his busy schedule. He was lucky that his other band mate had gotten ill, and practice had been cancelled.

“Yeah, gimme a minute!” Sujin called from their bedroom.

Seojun threw his jacket on the sofa and unbuttoned his sleeves, getting ready to make dinner. But then he froze.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

He groaned, “Aaaaah, chagiiii! Geuman-hae already.” He turned and then froze again, dropping his phone on the floor.

In the door frame of their bedroom stood Kang Sujin wearing leopard print camisole and a blue bathrobe, striking an exaggerated dancing pose. The camisole reached just below her thighs. The rest of her long, long, long legs were available for him to gawk at.

Seojun gulped. Good God.

You ready?

I'm ready

Yea, okey dokey yo

Sujin began dancing to the song just like he had, singing along as she moved through the hallway with the graceful movements of a more practiced dancer. It was funny but all too captivating at the same time.

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo,

Is that true? Yes! Okey dokey yo

She came in and danced her way to the fridge, taking out a water bottle, and pouring it over her head.

Really? Yes! Okey dokey yo

Say la la la la la la la la la la la

She didn’t have the chance to continue as Seojun picked her up in his arms. She squealed in joy as he kissed her.

“Ah, Kang Sujin that’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He said, leaning her over as she laughed.

Seojun forgot all about the song as he bridal carried a squealing Sujin to their room. They both fell down on the bed, laughing. Sujin ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, Sujinnie. Guess what underwear I’m wearing today.” Seojun grinned.

[monsteronfire]

The 7 Pleasures of Camping [Installment 1 | Taehyung]

type;; 7-part Series (1st Installment 2.6k words)

pairing(s);; BTS x older!Reader/OC | Pt. 1 mostly Tae x older!Reader/OC

genre;; Slice of Life, Smut, Camping AU

warnings;; Drinking, smoking, oral (female receiving), anal, tough/bratty!Reader/OC, very slightly dom!Tae, slightly dom!Namjoon, dirty talk, a lot of cursing and use of dirty words, a bit of tit-play, a tiny bit of ass eating, Jin being the trouble starter, Jin's also sweet to the Reader/OC though, mentions of male masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Tae and Koo being impatient af

a/n;; What's going on? What am I doing here? Why am I doing this? Who fucking knows. Don't ask questions, just enjoy me careening into madness. I can't make any promises about how frequent the updates will be. I'll desperately try to keep them from dragging out for months on end, but please bare with me if my dumbass falls apart and gets procrastinatey. For the time being enjoy this chaos that I started. Gif is not mine.

------

For the life of you, you have absolutely zero idea as to how you got here. Not to say you’d lost all memory, no. You know how you got into the campgrounds; how you and the seven men you were vacationing with set up the camper and various tents; how you all set out chairs and started a fire, cooked dinner and ate into the night. You know how you opened your first beer, then your second, then the third, fourth, fifth and sixth. You know about all that, that’s easy. What you don’t know is how you ended up practically folded in half in this uncomfortable lawn chair with your legs swung up over each plastic arm and Jin nestled between your thighs eating you out like you are his goddess and it’s his day of worship. Not to mention the six other members of your camping group just milling about your campsite going about their business as if there’s not a supremely drunk, half naked chick getting her cunt tongued right in front of them.

That’s not to say they aren’t reacting to it. They’re all watching with great interest and heated stares, all of them sporting a hard-on for the ages just for little old you. Still they go about their business as they watch, like you’re the entertainment after dinner. Yoongi sits at the camp’s picnic table with Namjoon, both of them playing cards nonchalantly while Yoongi chain smokes. Although Namjoon does keep pawing at his cock through his jeans from time to time. Taehyung paces back and forth with a bowl of cereal in his hands, sitting somewhere for about 30 seconds to eat and then getting up to get a different angle; hard dick bouncing away in his sweats every time he moves. Jimin is sitting very still in a chair to your right, his hands gripping the arms ever so subtly and his piercing eyes glued to the way your breasts move when you pant. Even with his legs crossed you can see the bulge in this jeans and you suspect that when he switches his legs over from time to time he’s only doing it to get some friction. Hobi’s standing off by a tree on the other side of the fire, smoking his own cigarette and taking swigs from his bottle of beer, sometimes palming his cock through his shorts. His eyes burn while he watches you, catching your gaze every few moments to stare you down. Jungkook is a little more zealous than the rest of the group, sitting directly across the fire from you with his head lulled back and his hand pumping over his cock while he watches.

The bottom row of Jin’s teeth deftly catch your clit and you hiss at the sensation, the pain mixing with pleasure to create an intense feeling. You pull away from him, one of your bare feet moving to push him away with your foot. He only backs away a little kissing the inside of one thigh while his hand runs over it soothingly.

“Sorry, baby,” he mumbles to you before diving back in to suck the pain away.

“Fuck,” you breathe, one of your hands gripping a handful of his hair and tugging very lightly. You aren’t sure if you want to pull him closer or tug him away. Doesn’t really matter, it’s like his sinfully plump lips are glued to your pussy. He noses his way down to slither his tongue into your clenching hole and you swear the appendage is way too long for him to be human. It wriggles inside you and laps up to tease you with small thrusts in and out. It seems he’s picked up on how much teasing your hole drives you crazy.

‘Just the tip’ as they say.

His nose flicks back and forth over your clit while he works and it’s only when he reaches the hand on your thigh up to tug on one of your nipples that you realize you’re getting impatient. You grip the hair on the crown of his head a little tighter and start working him against you, doing your best to rock your hips over his tongue in the awkward position you’re in. He hums against you and you groan with an open mouth, the simple sight of this lewd act starting to really get you off.

“Fuck, hyung. How much longer are you gonna be? You haven’t even stuck your dick in her yet, at this rate it’s going to be morning by the time we all get a round.”

Jungkook sounds more impatient than you and Tae seems to agree with him.

“I mean how many times has he made her cum now?”

“At least three times,” Jimin says evenly, never looking away from you.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!”

You ride the high off Jin’s tongue, the knowledge that he’s practically sucking the pussy juice out of you making your orgasm a little messier than usual. You can feel yourself gushing into his waiting mouth and are nearly thrown into another orgasm when he pulls you impossibly closer, humming loudly and eating every inch he can of you until you’re completely clean of anything. Well anything, but his saliva. His fingertips feel like they’re leaving bruises they’re pressed so far into your flesh and you swear he’s enjoying you cumming more than you actually are.

“Make that four times,” Jimin reiterates

You vaguely hear Taehyung slam his cereal bowl into the table, stomping his way over to you and dropping a hand onto Jin’s shoulder.

“Alright hyung, you’ve had your fun. It’s my turn now, you can have her back when I’m done.”

“Like hell, she’s mine after,” Jungkook shouts.

Tae pushes Jin back, though the elder doesn’t put up much of a fight. You moan at the site of his glowing face, the lower half glistening in the firelight with your juices. He licks his lips and wipes the rest clean with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, the look in his eyes promising you that he’s not done with you yet. When he’s out of the way, Tae is kneeling between you legs. He bites the inside of your thigh gently and pulls each leg from the arms so that your feet are back on the ground.

“Can you stand for me babygirl?”

You roll your eyes at the pet name and shove him back.

“I’m older than you, idiot. Back up.”

He moves away from you and stands easily, his hands hovering around you when you get up, as if he expects you to fall. When he’s certain you’re steady on your feet he tugs your sweater (the one Jin had pushed up over your breasts to get a better view) over your head and tosses it on to the chair. He takes a half step back to look your over, admiring your unkempt skirt that was flipped up and your flushed skin.

“God you’re so hot.”

You don’t reply, though you don’t really need to, and instead arch your chest out for him when he ducks down to fit practically a hole tit into his mouth. His tongue swirls over your nipple and slathers it in spit before he’s sucking on it like he’s actually trying to get milk to come out. You moan and card your fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands to let him know you like how rough he’s being. He bites down when you tug on his hair, pulling at the hardened bud until it pops back from between his teeth. You gasp out a ‘fuck’ and present the other breast to him, enjoying how his big hand tugs it into his waiting mouth. He gives that nipple the same attention and by the time he’s finished you’re even more flushed than before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna break you noona. Just wait,” he growls out, roughly spinning you so that you have to catch yourself on the chair just so you don’t fall.

You expected him to bend you over and stuff his cock into you, but instead you feel his hot breath on your ass. His overly large hands (hands that you’ve fantasized about a million and one times) push your ass cheeks up and out, spreading them so that he can dive in and immediately fuck you with his tongue. You gasp and moan, arching your back so that he has easier access and reaching around to tug his face closer. You were hoping for his dick, but his tongue is working just as well and when you feel him lick up to tease your asshole you can’t help getting a little excited. You always figured Tae for an anal man and it’d been ages since your ass got a good pounding.

He works back and forth between your core and your ass, gripping your cheeks so hard you can only imagine how hard he’s going to rail you and it makes you drool with anticipation. When he’s certain your ass is lubed up enough with his spit he slots one of his fingers into your hole and wriggles it gently. You moan and try to push back on him, vaguely hearing him chuckle and feeling him push back against you.

“Easy, babygirl.”

“Fuck, y’all keep talking about sticking your dicks in me. Just fucking do it already.”

“Do you think this tight hole will even be able to fit my cock,” he chuckles out.

“I don’t know, why don’t you slam it in me and find out. I’ve done anal before, you prick. It’s just like riding a bike. Spit in my hole, spit on your cock and stretch me out already.”

You wiggle your ass closer to his face and he growls, apparently thoroughly enjoying the dirty words coming from your mouth. He bites down on one cheek before pulling them both apart far enough that your hole gapes open for him to spit into. ‘Fuck’ tumbles from his lips when he stands and he’s quick to pull his dick out, spitting on that as well and lathering the saliva over his shaft.

“You sure about this, noona?”

You wiggle your butt again.

“Baby this ass is gonna milk your cock so good you’ll never want pussy ever again.”

He grins like the devil and slaps a hand over your cheek before he’s pulling them apart again and teasing you with his tip. You moan and push back on him, loving that his resolve is quickly snapping. He’s desperately trying to take it slow, easing the head of his cock gently past the ring of muscle while he tries to hold you steady and keep you from overdoing it.

“Fuck, would you relax already. You’re gonna push me past my breaking point,” he grinds out, his tone of voice clearly giving away that he’s clenching his teeth. You roll your eyes and push back harder, clenching and relaxing your asshole so that you’re basically sucking him in.

“Stop being a pussy and fuck my ass, Kim Taehyung!”

He practically roars and slams his cock the rest of the way inside you. You cry out, both in pleasure and in shock when he practically lifts you off the ground and slams you down onto the picnic table where Yoongi and Namjoon sit. He shoves you against the wood and drags his cock out of you, making sure you feel every ridge, every vein before slamming back into you. You cry out again and push back into him, practically begging for more.

“Fuck! Just like that, Tae! You know I like it rough, baby. Show me how rough you can be!”

He spanks you again, pulling out and pumping in more quickly every time he cycles through the motions. His cock bores so deliciously inside of you, stretching you out and tugging on your walls to create the greatest of friction. ‘Fuck’ tumbles from your lips multiple times and by the time Tae’s picked up a good, quick pace, you’re panting like a bitch in heat. Your face presses into the wood of the table and you stare at Namjoon with hazy eyes. He has a look in his that you’re not quite sure of, but you take a chance anyway and open your mouth so that your tongue can lull out. The pleasure Tae is giving you makes your throat and the back of your tongue ache for something. You want the weight and pressure of something big and heavy at the back of your throat, and Namjoon seems to understand.

He reaches forward with two fingers and presses them on the back of your tongue, rubbing there every so slightly before dragging down along the wet muscle and pressing over into your right cheek. Just like having a cock prod the wet cavern. You moan with an open mouth, letting the flood of saliva Namjoon caused to drool out of the corners of your mouth. He pulls his fingers from your tongue and you cry at the loss.

“More,” you whine to him, “don’t stop. Make me gag.”

He doesn’t need to be told a second time, pressing down on your tongue again and pushing back until he’s activating your gag reflex. Your throat automatically closes around his fingers for a split second before he’s pulling them away and dragging them all through your mouth. Over your tongue, along your gums, against the roof of your mouth and pressing into your cheeks. He lewdly fucks your mouth with his fingers like Taehyung is fucking your ass with his cock and you swear there’s no way Heaven could be better than this.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut,” Tae grunts out, snapping his hips into your ass like he’s trying to catch his cock on fire.

“Sluts deserved to be punished, right hyung,” he asks and glances at Namjoon. The older male smirks and nods.

“Sluts like her get spanked, isn’t that right baby?”

“Yesh!” You cry around his fingers, more drool pooling from your mouth.

Taehyung groans at your eager submission, slapping his hand on each ass cheek once, twice, three times. You cry out each time, your cunt gushing and your ass milking his cock while he fucks you. When he smacks you a fourth time he hisses and grips the other cheek tight enough to leave marks.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass noona, can I?”

There’s your boy, the sweet demeanor returning in his desperation to empty his load into you. Namjoon finally pulls his fingers from your mouth and wipes them dry on his jeans.

“Yes, fuck please, yes! Empty your cock in my ass, Tae. Fill me up with your cum.”

You feel the first hot spurt the instant you say the word ‘fill’ and by the second shot of his hot seed has you cumming yourself. You didn’t expect it, but as soon as the string snaps and your orgasm hits, you feel yourself squirt your juices out onto Tae’s balls and thighs. Your vision goes blank and white, hot pleasure has you crying the boy’s name into the night. He presses into your back and practically sobs while he empties his balls in you, wrapping his arms so tightly around you that you’re sure it’s to hold himself up and not you. By the time you finally come to, you’re both panting, your legs feel like jello and you feel like Tae is permanently glued to your back with sweat. You can feel the efforts of his labor oozing out of your ass around his cock and you know as soon as he pulls out, your thighs are going to be covered in the hot, thick mess. Which you can’t say you’ll really mind.

You get the feeling you’ll be covered in a lot more it before the night is over.

[robincantfunction]

requested: yes/no(requests are open)

word count: 1201

warnings: slight mentions of racism nothing detailed in anyway at all though(mentions the black family as racists)swearing, one sex reference

lemme know if i missed any.

summary: fred and y/n are in a popular band together, and they're dating. the ships get too much and they have to tell their fans. but during an interview someone questions y/n about her racist family. but luckily fred is there for her, her hero. her lover boy.

song prompt 2: lvr boy - awfultune (i have to be honest i didn't really stick too much to it, but i had this idea so we are gonna go with it.

a/n: this is a modern au- the band is kinda supposed to give maneskin vibes but idk, although lvr boy isn't the best example of that-

toujours pur. one of the most popular bands globally, they were so frequently spoken about by all age groups, and just all people to be honest. they really were great. there music varied so much in genre, there was always something for everybody. the bandmates where what really made people love the band- on top of their killer vocals and riffs and just talent in general, their interviews, their youtube videos, their instagram lives, all of it made the public see what amazing people they truly were. fred weasley (lead guitarist) george weasley (rythm guitarist) y/n black (lead vocalist and ukulele player) harry potter (bass player) hermione granger (pianist) ron weasley (drummer) ginny weasley (acoustic guitarist). that summed up to a lot of gingers and a lot of talent. after endless obliviousness and shipping, ron and hermione finally got together- much to the fandoms satisfaction. harry and ginny were frequently shipped, but once ginny came out they started shipping her with luna, a known friend of the band. it was fun to both y/n and fred at first, all their friends were being almost nagged to get with the people they so obviously liked. it wasn't a safely guarded secret that fred and y/n were an item, they just never directly stated it. i mean what was the point? they loved each other, why vocalize it to the world? but then it happened. the tweets, the instagram posts, the tiktoks, every social media platform had to know if the hand holding, the cheek kisses, the 'i love you's', and the loving looks were all just out of friendship- or something much more. it was still fun initially, watching people try and figure out their relationship, but then it was brought into the interviews and the livestreams.

"why don't you guys just tell them? its so obvious anyway, and it's not like your hiding it." george asked after the band attempted a livestream, but ended it when the only comments were about fred and y/n. "why is it their business?" she responded softly. she wasn't wrong, but everyone except fred was still confused. "we know it's not. but come on, we're not gonna force you to do anything you're not comfortable with but it would stop all of that" ginny said, pointing to the livestream set up they have at the end of her sentence. fred and y/n knew they were right, but they were so comfortable how they were, they didn't want their relationship to be completely demolished. it was the last thing they wanted. and the last thing that either of them saw coming, but they were still cautious. "we have a couple interviews tomorrow, tell them or don't tell them. but it would be a good chance." both of them instantly knew what the other was thinking. the time has come. they're gonna tell them.

the next day were all sitting in front of an interviewer, and then another one, and then another one. and finally this one. "so, i know your name has never really been spoken about" the interviewer said, the band nodded "so what's with the band name?" everyone looked at y/n. she chuckled slightly and started explaining "so most of my family, not good people. they were pretty commonly associated with a racist organisation. like i said, not good people. well they have this family tree, personally i've only seen it once. me and my dad don't go to the family home often. it gives us the heebie geebies and they hate us. well anyway, the family tree says toujours pur, always pure. so i thought i'd mock them and suggested it as a band name. trust me, i've received many a message about it. they aren't happy." everyone chuckled, if y/n was one thing it was spiteful. "so just out of interest, has the band received any backlash about your family?" the entire band shifted in their seats, if there was one thing y/n rarely talked about it was her family. and fred was preparing to go into protective boyfriend mode. she shook her head "um, no not really." the guy looked somewhat hurt "oh. so racist family isn't something your fans have a problem with?" ok this guy was obviously being bitter, but before fred could say anything y/n jumped in "family by blood. not by nature. the only thing that correlates me with them is dna, and clearly they drew the short straw because they're missing some necessary brain cells. i'm not my 'family'. so no. i don't get backlash for something people who i've only ever had one conversation with did." the rest of the interview was very awkward. like, very.

"ok one last one and then we're done for the day" lily (their self appointed manager- not that anyone minded, she was a life saver) said, sending a sympathetic smile to y/n "i'm not doing it." everyone frowned, but understood somewhat. "y/n/n, love, one more. we'll tell them we're shagging like they want and then bounce" that made her chuckle, he always managed to that "lovely description of our relationship dear" everyone started laughing at the two. "ok. but if one more thing gets said about the fucking black family i swear to shit i will start throwing things."

the last interview was a lot more smooth. especially when fred held y/n's hand the entire time. that didn't go unnoticed by the interviewer, who commented on it a few minutes after she sat down. "so, fred and y/n. i know you to are" she paused and cleared her throat, whilst looking at their hands "close. and i know you're probably sick of hearing this but, what are you?" they chuckled a little "um... we're sorta dating" the interviewer smiled, and so did fred and y/n. it felt good to say it out loud. "i have to ask you, really quickly. is fred weasley your lover boy?" she asked, referencing their latest single "lvr boy". it was well known that y/n wrote the majority of their songs- specifically the slower bedroom artist vibe songs. y/n nodded sheepishly, never actually admitting that directly to the group no matter how obvious. "my room mate now owes me a tenner, thank you" everyone laughed, this was ok. she was ok.

"i'm sorry about earlier, love." she sighed "it's ok." he shrugged "no it's not. that was fucked up" both of their features softened "i was ok. i am ok. because you were there. and because you're here." they kissed "y'know 'm sorry bout your name. i know people give you shit for it" she pecked his lips again "don't worry about it." he shook his head "why didn't your dad take remus's name?" they both looked at each other "cause a name shouldn't be a burden. and with the person yuo love, it eases it all y'know. they don't care when they have each other." he smiled "can't wait till you have my name" he didn't mean to say it, panic evident in his eyes she smiled a genuinely happy smile "me neither" and she put her head in his chest.

he was her lover boy.

he owned her heart.

he owned her heart like no one else did.

she was always his.