#is this a flare? can i even flare? am i exaggerating? am i dreaming? what even is going on

[gudvina]

The things I do to keep you near.

Ship: Effie Trinket/Haymitch Abernathy

Fandom: Hunger Games

Chapter 12: Taking Chances.

Can be read on AO3. <3

74th Hunger Games, part 10.

He hadn’t been in that office since the loss of his family. In Crane’s space, at the time, had been Festus Creed. He had dished out his condolences for the horrible events in such an unaffected way that, in the same tone, he might as well have talked about what he had eaten for dinner the day prior. He had felt strongly about the wooden desk, the golden accents and the rich blue of the walls. Had dreamed of it often. And yet, now, with Effie sitting beside him and Crane in front of them, it didn’t look as striking as it had back then.

He let his hand slide down and hold the leg of Effie’s chair, ready for whatever Crane had in store for them. The Gamemaker’s ominous expression did nothing but flare up his growing concern.

“Can I offer you anything?” Seneca looked at him, pouring himself a drink. He watched the golden liquid swirl inside the crystal glass and gulped, trying to ignore the thirst. He had drunk enough with Chaff already, and whatever this was required his full attention, so he shook his head and looked at Effie who did the same. Probably more for his sake, than anything else.

“Well”, Seneca started, swirling the drink some more, “I have been called just yesterday night for an urgent, and obligatory, reunion with the President himself, other Gamemakers, and the Superior Peacekeeper”. The Council, Haymitch mused. From the corner of his eye, he saw Effie’s brows furrow in confusion, and he couldn’t blame her, for he was sure the same bafflement was evident in his own face.

“I’m sorry for you, but I don’t see how that involves me or my escort”, he snorted, earning himself a glare from the Gamemaker. He was in no position to make jokes, he knew, but he couldn’t help the feeling of triumph that came with putting in his place the Capitol’s golden child.

“It involves you and Euphemia because, during said assembly, I was made aware of your tribute causing civil unrest in District Eleven. Katniss’ stunt of embellishing with flowers Rue did something for the District, and the concern is that it might do something for other District”, the man explained to them both, before turning to him with a pointed look, “Surely, you can see why this involves you and your escort, now”.

Chaff’s warning coming straight out of Seneca Crane’s mouth was enough admonition to make his humor flee, and tighten his grip on Effie’s chair.

“It wasn’t Katniss’ intention, Seneca. It couldn’t be, and I don’t like the suggestion. An obligatory assembly was an exaggerated measure”.

“I never said Katniss intended to cause civil unrest, but you do realize that was the impact. And clearly the Council didn’t think it an exaggerated measure, so I don’t know what tells you that”. Seneca’s expression darkened as he reproached Effie, rendering her to silence. Effie had always been the Capitol’s prettiest puppy, always said the right words and smiled in the right way, especially with the right people, so much that even he was surprised by the way she had readily come to the girl’s defence.

“Why are we here, then?” he asked, trying to draw Crane’s attention to him and the problem.

“Because President Snow, magnanimous as he is, tasked me with solving this… situation. I tried to find a solution, but try as I might I can’t seem to find one that will do. Since it’s your tribute we are talking about, and I so dislike having to bear this boiling potato on my own, I may as well ask you to hold it a little and maybe give me a hand”. He could read the veiled threats behind his words, and didn’t like them one bit. If this was the case not only was the girl in danger, but her family as well and he wasn’t sure the boy wouldn’t get the same treatment.

“We’re not part of the militia, Sen. I am not sure how we could be of help”, Effie said, casting Haymitch an uncertain look.

“I think he intends to use the games”, he mused out loud.

Seneca Crane nodded in his direction but turned his eyes toward Effie, sporting the same condescending smile he always did. He assumed it wasn’t a real one, as he had seen a fair share of those when he and Effie had been together.

“The Games, dear Phim, need something new, and while I could have chosen another District to supplant yours, I think I’d much prefer to solve the problem at the root”.

Our girl caused the problems, we have to solve them.

He sighed, his brain already put in motion to find a way. “I am gathering that it must give the Districts a nice distraction, something to look forward to”, he guessed.

“Yes, something that will draw their attention away, and, also important, will be believable for Capitols as well”.

“Not like it will take a fit, with the bunch of yours”, he heard himself mutter and ignored Effie’s cluck of her tongue.

Silence fell between them, but then, as he grasped tighter on the leg of Effie’s chair, he broke it.  “We could play the card of young love. It worked when Peeta revealed his feelings, I don’t see why it couldn’t work now”, he said, shrugging, and saw Seneca consider it with a face.

“Do you think it would work in the Districts?”

“Why not? All these kids are sent to butcher each other, if two won’t it will cause spectacle and a little distraction. It will be big, unheard of, that I can vouch for”, he said, and then continued, “And it won’t even be that expensive, nor will it look like you’re trying too much. I am sure you can put Katniss and Peeta together in some way, and that will do the trick”.

“And that will work on the Capitol as well, as it did during your Quarter Quell”, Seneca said, alluding to the speculation the Capitol had held onto for weeks of how jealous his girl must have been of Maysilee. It took all his strength not to scoff, and he almost missed Effie’s uncomfortable shifting.

“You have to give her, and other Districts, a reason to care as well. It can’t be just Twelve.”, Effie said, ignoring what Seneca had said.

“A reason?”

“Love is a universal feeling, but I can’t see why someone from District Two would give two damn about the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve, let alone a sponsor”, she was blunt, and, he could tell, focused on smoothing all the details Crane and he hadn’t seen yet, “You must give them, too, a distraction. And if you make it so that there will be two winners from the same District, it will draw Katniss and Peeta together, give them some time, and the willingness to fight. The time is essential, Seneca, as Peeta is injured. If you give Haymitch time to send them something, I am sure they’ll give us a real show”.

He was thankful that the one thing Effie had in common with Liviana Albus was being an excellent show-woman, one who knew her audience and how to play them well. He could have fucked her right then, but his thoughts were sobered when he realized Seneca Crane felt that way too, given the way he hung from Effie’s lips.

“Well, Phim, I didn’t have high expectations, but you two quite exceeded them. We’re going to give everyone a show, and if someone doesn’t care about two young lovers they will surely care to see their tributes home, or see their favourite District get not one, but two winners. It works. It has to work”, he said, ecstatic with their suggestions. He wondered how much pressure had been put on him, given how eager he looked.

Effie smiled, but otherwise didn’t say anything. Haymitch suspected she wanted his stamp of approval. Deep inside, he knew she wanted him to admit that, for all his making fun of her, she couldn’t be that stupid. He never would out loud, but what husband doesn’t praise his wife, when needed?

“Good job, princess” he smirked and got up from the chair.

“You are leaving already?”, the Gamemaker asked.

Haymitch raised his brows. “Is there anything else?”

“No, no, there isn’t. Thank you for the hand, and sorry for the abrupt invite”.

Effie got up, smoothing her dress with feigned nonchalance, before smiling at Seneca with the jarring Capitol grin that made up her carefully made mask. He wondered how much the man could see through it, if at all.

“Next time, not that I wish for another occasion such as this, I beg you to come look for me. No Peacekeepers. Otherwise, it’s been a perfectly nice meeting”.

“I renew my apologies, dear. Please do come see me. I know you are… busy with work, and I am as well, as you can see, but forget-me-not”, Seneca held her hand, kissing each one before releasing them, and walking the both of them to the door. He hated him, but couldn’t do or say much without ruining the shaky collaboration with the Gamemaker.

As soon as they were on their way to the elevators, and within a few feet of distance from the office, Effie took his arm but didn’t say a word. He couldn’t stay silent, though, not for too long.

“Did he really need to slobber all over your hands?”, he snarked.

“Oh, Haymitch, that’s how a man behaves in polite society. Well, maybe only kissing one hand, but he’s a friend”.

Her words, the way she had said them, made his heart sink. What the fuck did that mean? After everything Crane had said she still had the galls to consider him a friend? Maybe he wasn’t fair. Maybe. But the man was a Gamemaker, so I guess nothing was when it concerned him.

“A friend?! You call that asshole a friend?”, he whispered, but her answer came only when they were in the confines of the elevator.

“He’s my friend, and the fact that he called us proved it. He trusted me. Trusted you because of me. Yes, he isn’t behaving in the best way by making decisions for me, and I do not agree with his way, which is why I am also decided to win, but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Your friend there was desperate”, he sneered, “almost as much as he is to get back in your pants”.

“I’d like you to refrain from saying such things. Firstly, because I broke up with him years ago, and secondly, because not everyone seeks me only for sex, even though I understand it’s hard for you to believe it”, she hissed, a flash of hurt passing in her face but quickly hidden by her mask.

He knew he should have dropped it, but for some reason, her sudden defence of Crane had gotten under his skin.

“You keep telling yourself that”, he snorted, and regretted it almost instantly when she looked at him in the same way she had had that day when, in the 70th edition, he had snapped at her in front of Tulsia and Tallia.

He would have said something, but when the elevator stopped at the Sponsors’ Lounge she got out without a word, walking straight to where Portia was sitting, never once looking back. Before the doors closed, Finnick got in and looked at him questioningly.

“Crane wanted to talk about Eleven’s problem”, it wasn’t the answer to his question, but it was an answer nonetheless.

“That’s it? Okay. And why did Effie get out of the elevator upset?”.

“Why the fuck don’t you ever mind your business, kid?”, he asked, irritated by the boy’s meddling in his and Effie’s life.

“Was Crane mean to her?”

“No, he was posilutely amiable”, he mocked.

“Then you were. I knew it. What did you say?”.

“Why don’t you ask her, since you two are so close?”, he glared, and he suspected that he had been a little too direct, because he saw the boy’s expression sober a little.

“Aight, aight, I guess it’s time to visit Blight”, the boy quipped, seeing they were approaching Seven’s floor, “Whatever you have said, say sorry, give her a gift, and drink a little less than usual. She will love it”.

“I will give her shit, get the fuck out of here” he barked.

Finnick snickered and slipped out of the doors. “Good luck, my friend. Do not go gentle into that good night”. The doors closed just in time for him to see Blight look at them with puzzlement. He was alone, at last, but that gnawing feeling that had haunted him just four years ago had returned, their marriage the only consolation, and hope, that she wouldn’t flee again.

If he had struggled to handle it during that edition, he knew that, now that she was his wife, it would be unbearable.

***

It had been a few hours since she had gotten out of that elevator. She and Portia had sipped on their drinks in relative silence, apart from a little idle talk about inconsequential things that, she figured, Portia only stood for her sake. It helped her steam the anger a little but did nothing to drive away the pain.

They had then been joined by Finnick, Blight, Cashmere and, surprisingly, Faustina, who had come all the way to inquire after her well-being. They didn’t ask her much more than appropriate, and she answered in kind, trying to hint as little as possible at the nature of her meeting with Seneca. Finnick had a knowing look, and she suspected he had seen her storm out of the elevator because he acted towards her in the way he did anytime she fought with Haymitch. Delicate, but with an air of knowing this will end just like all the other times.

She hated that he wasn’t that wrong, for, when she saw the hour, she parted from everyone. Portia and Cinna were going to do the nights that day, so she left her to her friends. She reminded them to call her if anything important happened, before retracing her steps towards the elevator.

When she stepped onto Twelve’s floor the lights were on, and she saw Haymitch sit on the armchair. He was snoring softly, and when she took a turn about the room to take a better look at him, she saw a flower resting between his callous fingers, while his other hand held a glass.

She tried to extricate the glass from his hand, being careful not to wake him, but her attempts were vain. His eyes shot open, before softening as soon as he could tell it was her.

“How much did you have to drink?”, she asked, trying to look away. Whenever he looked at her that way it did things to her, and now that she was hurt she felt it hurt her even more. Keep telling yourself that. She had always known it was so, hadn’t she? Why did it hurt, why did it pain her so much? She couldn’t explain it, yet it was there.

“Too much”, he slurred, “I wanted to listen to the boy, but, after a while, I thought you were gone and maybe were coming back tomorrow. I shouldn’t have drunk. Now I have only a sorry and the gift”. He wasn’t making much sense, and she couldn’t understand a lot of it, but she sensed he wanted to say sorry and use the flower as a token. It wasn’t the best apology, but he had gotten the flower right: a light pink tulip. He had never given her a flower, or anything, and she felt an onrush of sweetness.

For all his rough exterior, and his cutting words, he had a way to make her heart beat that was unique to him.

“Is this for me?” she asked softly, looking at the tulip.

“Yes. It’s not the best, I know. I didn’t know what flower you liked so I went with this one, it looked pretty enough”, he stroked her face, before continuing, “I am sorry, I was… I was upset and nervous, and then you defended that asshole and-“

“Uh-uh, I wasn’t trying to defend him, I just said he is my friend. Yes, he is making a mistake, and is hurting us, me, in the process, but he could have asked for another District and our kids would have been done for. He plays fair, where he can”, Effie explained, and Haymitch understood what she had left unsaid. That she was grateful he was her friend, and he should be too, given the way that had given them a chance to bring not one, but two of their children. It was insane that, despite her presence in the meeting, she held hope for that.

“Anyways, I should have never said that”, he muttered.

“No, you shouldn’t have”.

“Not only because I am not one to speak when it comes to getting into your pants, but because… yeah, you’re more than that. For a lot of people, too”, he said.

You’re more than that to me. For a lot of people, too.

She felt her heart skip a bit, and the onslaught of feelings rushing now through her whole body. She had never dared to hope, and he hadn’t said that exactly, but she knew him well. It was the closest thing to an admission, and a declaration, that she was going to get, and the flower… the flower was just the cherry on top.

They had always hidden behind the casual nature of their relationship, but if there was a chance he also thought of them as more... Her eyes welled with tears as she took the tulip from him and softly kissed him, not wanting to say anything that would make him flee.

“Thank you. I like the flower and accept the apology. It’s dreadfully late, isn’t it?”, she smiled, trying to contain her excitement.

“Is it?”, he smirked, his hand ghosting over her face. It was so easy to revert to their banter, almost like coming home after a hard day of work. Rewarding, and yet so comfortable like little else could ever be.

“Yes. Let’s go to bed”. She walked away and heard him follow right after. Her smile turned into a wide grin.

[drazzilder]

Control

By Drazzilder 

Endeavor x Male Reader

R18+

An Anonymous request:

“Could i request an enji x male reader.

Maybe its during his redemption arc and the reader hates to see enji so down and depressed as apposed to his normal confident and loud self so the reader treats him to a nice date night where he lets enji take full control.

Rough sex, reader is a bottom, anal or oral, up to you. Some fluff date stuff before hand.”

Endeavor hasn’t been himself lately. The big man has been very solemn and quiet. He is a man of few words to begin with but now he barely says a word, mostly just grumbles. The other sidekicks notice this as well but all are too afraid to anything about it. You can’t help yourself and try to help him out.

Today he is in his office and the door is cracked open. Your curiosity is at a peak when you tip toe to the door and listen. The hero is speaking but it seems to be only to himself. You can barely make out the words but you manage to make out most of it.

“Why do I keep seeing the same dream?….Why am I never there?….I hurt them all so much…. Is having them move out the right thing to do?.... They deserve to be happy…” Endeavor starts to trail off as his words become more mumbled. All you know is that he is down, something is up and you wanted to find out. You don’t even bother to knock as you open the massive door. Endeavor doesn’t even look up from his desk when you slam your hands down on his desk.

The man sounds like he had to force out the word “Hello.” You don’t have to look at his face to know there isn’t an ounce of emotion showing.

“Endeavor! How have you been?” You say with an exaggerated tone, trying to brighten his mood; however, this seems to cause the opposite. When he looks up, you swear that he could kill with that look. You guess that maybe that wasn’t the best way to start so you try again.

“Sorry to be so over the top, I’m just really excited to go to this new restaurant in Tokyo! The wait list is 6 months to just get int but a friend of mine had to cancel so he gave me his spot.” Looking back at Endeavor, his face now goes back to a blank stare.

“That is nice of your friend.”

“The problem is that it is a reservation for two and I have no one to go with. I didn’t want the second seat to go to waste and eating by yourself is so lonely. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

Those words made his nose flare and smoke come out of his nostrils. “Why should I go with you?”

“Lighten up. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come. You are away working so hard and you seem down lately. Maybe some time away from home could be good for you.”

The man sits there a moment in silence. You are starting to worry you might be fired for asking him to come to dinner with you but you are shocked when he finally speaks. “Very well. Where and when.”

“REALLY?!.... I mean meet me at the train station at 5, dinner is at 6.”

The hero goes back to look down at his desk which signals you to leave. You close the door and lean against it and sigh. Maybe you can find out what’s going on and maybe help him. You then stand back up and finish your day at the agency. After running home and changing, you meet the man himself at the train stations. He is in a full suit; you are just wearing a nice shirt and kakis. The train ride couldn’t be more tense, he never said a word as he followed you on and off the train. At the restaurant, you are greeted by a gentleman in a nice suit and seated immediately in a private corner. After the waiter takes your order, Endeavor just sits looking depressed.

“You haven’t said a word all evening, something has got to be on your mind.”

Endeavors gaze now turns into a harsh stare as he responds “It is none of your business!”

“Well, I finally got a word out of you.”

���What?”

“I’m just trying to see why you are acting different.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The man just stares blankly as you before looking down. “I-I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.”

He is about to leave but you grab his hand. “Endeavor, wait!”

He pulls his hand away and glares “Why do you want me to stay?”

“I heard you in your office.”  

His nostrils flare and his face now only shows anger. “You were spying on me?!?” He says much louder than he wanted.

“I didn’t mean to but you sounded like you are hurting.”

“You know I should fire you that.”

“I know but it is only because I care. You have been down recently and I heard you talking, I couldn’t help myself to try to figure out what is wrong.”

Endeavor sighs “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

He looks down and speaks under his breath: “This isn’t your problem.”

“But I might be able to help. You can tell me.”

He sits down and begins to tell you all about his family: how he hurt them, why they are gone, why he is living alone. He is trying so hard to atone his mistakes but he forgetting about himself. He has been alone for a few months and it’s hitting him hard.

“I guess that is everything….”

“I see.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Give me a second, it’s a lot to process…. It sounds like you are willing to change to help your family heal and be better. The only problem is you are forgetting something: yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you need to heal as well.”

“I am fine.”

“Look at yourself, the man you used to be was so full of life, loud and boisterous but now you are in a slump. You hardly spoke all day even when prompted.”

“Oh.” He just tilts his head down after his response.

“It’s ok that you are feeling guilty but you need to help yourself too. I bet you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror easily. I have an idea that might help after dinner. Are you willing to try?”

“If it will help me, then yes.”

“I think it might.” The dinner was delicious, no wonder it had a 6-month waiting list, it was the best food you ever had. You finished the meal with Endeavors favorite, kuzumochi, to try to cheer him up more. Soon, you are both back on the train and headed home. However, Endeavor follows you instead of heading back to his home. You arrive at your apparent and close the door behind him.

“What now?” The large man questions while standing in the middle of the living room.

“Sit down while I get something.”

Endeavor finds his way to the couch and waits for what feels like forever. He is about to get up and leave when he hears you coming back to the room. You are now only wearing a thong and begin to approach him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?” He starts to crawl backwards into the couch but can’t go any further.

“Helping you….”

“How is this going to help me?!”

“Your life has gone out of control recently, maybe you need to take control of something again.”

“What?”

“Take control and do what you want with me.” You say as you begin to sit down in his lap. He looks at you in complete shock as he stares unblinking.

“You are a man, my sidekick, I can’t possibly- “

You interrupt him by placing a finger on his lips. “Don’t think about that, just let go. It already looks like your body is responding.” You look down to see a large budge forming in his slacks. You look back up and see something is different; his eyes look almost glazed over. He pushes you off and you are afraid he is going to leave but he just takes off his jacket and grabs your face. He almost drags you off your feet has he begins kissing you all over your face. At first, they are gentle but then more and more forceful until your lips meet. Then he starts to push in full force with his tongue. The sweet flavor of the kuzumochi is still all over his mouth as he assaults you with his lips. You feel his arms go down to your chest and hold you tight has he lifts you up.

“Ooof” is all that comes out of your mouth when he slams the both of you on the couch, still kissing you. You lay under him for a moment until he stands up. The look in his eyes have changed again, almost looking primal as he starts to rip his shirt and slacks off. Now just in his underwear, you see that he is fully hard and large. You can’t help yourself and tease him seeing the number one here like this. “Looks like someone is excited. What are you going to do to me?” You finish your sentence with a wink.

The hero responds by grabbing your arms and flinging you over his shoulder. “Just shut up and do as your told.” He carries you to your bedroom. You are slammed down again and you look up to see the Endeavor has flames on his face. “My sidekick has been very naughty today spying on his boss? What would a good punishment be?”

“Oh, I’m sorry~” you reply back in a sarcastic tone.”

He grabs your ankles and flips you over. “I think a few good spanks should do….” Endeavor doesn’t even bother to finish his sentence when you feel his massive hand hit your rear end hard. You can’t help but moan in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he continues to spank you. By the 6th time, you are at your limit and tears are running down you face. You feel him grab your legs again and flip you over.

“I thought spanking was supposed to be a punishment?” He says with a smirk. You look down and notice you are now full hard. “I guess we should take care of this.” The big man grins and he takes a finger under your thong and rips it easily. Once exposed, you feel his hand grasp you, fully engulfing your member with the size of his hand. He starts pumping up and down as you start moaning again. You try to match his pace with your hips but he uses his other hand to hold you down. He must sense you are close again as he stops. “Not yet, you still need to be punished properly.”  Moving to the nightstand, he grabs a bottle of lotion and starts to pull down his underwear. You could tell he was big but seeing it fully in person was something else. He starts to rub lotion all over his cock and approaches the end of the bed with an evil grin.

“You are going to take all of this.” Is all he says as he lifts your legs. You feel his tip start to push into you. You slam your head back on the bed as he starts to going further inside, his girth is way beyond anything you had to handle before. It isn’t long before it gets everything inside of you but you can barely breath from the feeling. He then starts to move again, this time out. He almost pulls out completely before going full speed into you, his hips practically spanking you with the speed they are moving. You start to feel his hands getting hot on your thighs as he starts to get into it more. Endeavor is too into his own world to notice you already came but you can’t tell him even if you wanted to.

“You are such a naughty sidekick!” The motions are starting to intense as he starts to literally steam up the room with his sweat. Your body has gone limp from all of the thrusts but Endeavor is too busy to notice. Between the name calling and speed of the thrusts, you could tell he is getting close. Right before the big man climaxes, he just yells “You are going to take all of my cum!” His huge cock pumps semen deep inside of you, it’s so hot it almost feels like it is burning your insides. You do your best but the amount overwhelms you and some does leak out. He keeps up his motions as the twitching starts to slow. He finally stops after what feels like an eternity. Once Endeavor pulls out, yours legs flop down.

“Are you going to clean this up?” The hero almost demands as he is standing above you.

“I would but I can’t feel my legs right now. I will later if that’s ok?”

“It will have to do.” Endeavor then gets into the bed next to you. He shifts the both of you to the top and places the covers over you both. It isn’t long before you fall asleep in the man’s grip. You wake up the next morning in the bed alone, only the sound of a shower indicates that someone else is home. The shower stops and the door opens.

“Good morning.” He walks out in only a towel.

“I… I am sorry about last night.”

“I am off to get ready for work, you should do the same.” Is all he says as he gets dressed and walks out the door. You just quietly get up and get ready for the day. It isn’t long till you find yourself at the agency. However, the quiet that has taken over the agency recently is now replaced with the yells and demands of the number one hero once again. Nothing mean, just being a good leader and hero.

“What’s going on?” You ask a fellow sidekick.

“I don’t know but what ever happened, he seems to finally be himself again. He does seem less harsh now.” Is all she says before she rushes off. When he sees you walk in, Endeavor tells you in his loud voice to quickly get to work and check your patrol area.

“I guess he is going to pretend that nothing happened.” Is all that goes through your head as you log onto the computer. When you get your schedule, you see that you are working with Endeavor today, alone; something that never happens. You look up and see the hero walk past you with the same look in his eyes that you saw last night. You don’t know what is in plan for today but you can’t wait to find out.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here lads have an angsty supercorp soulmate story

It starts exactly 24 hours after Kara’s departure. 

It’s subtle at first. It actually reminds Lena of the first few days after they met. 

The slow but steady build-up of pain manifesting itself into little things; shaky hands, dizzy spells, chest pains. The pills help, of course. She’s already ingested 5 pills in the span of 3 hours and she’s contemplating taking more. Just to keep the pain—threatening to overtake her—at bay. But what good would she be if Alex finds her passed out on the floor? Veins chock-full of narcotics? 

So, she wills her hands to stop shaking and pushes on. She sends a text to Jess to send a shipment of pills to her home address; tells her to be discreet. 

She can do it. She’s done it before. She can fucking do it again. And she will bring Kara home. 

Because every moment that passes with them apart, means a step closer to Lena’s death. 

You might think she’s exaggerating, but really she isn’t. See, Kara’s her soul mate, not just in the figure of speech wax-poetic sense but literally Kara’s her soul mate. 

But her being a Luthor of course, soul mates wouldn’t come easy. None of it had ever been easy. Why would this one be an exception? It wasn’t unheard of, no, there were a few rare cases of it being recorded. Of course, Lena would be one of those people. Why wouldn’t the universe add shitty soul mate luck into the long list of misfortunes in Lena’s life? What’s one more curse, right? 

See, Kara’s her soul mate but...Lena isn’t Kara’s.

“You look like shit, Luthor. You’re allowed to take a break you know?” 

It’s Alex who breaks her out of her reverie. She prays to God that Alex doesn't notice her shaking hands. She’s well aware she looks like shit. She feels like shit, she doesn’t need Alex of all people to point that one out. But now, Lena notices that the whole place is empty, she didn’t even notice J’onn slip out. She didn’t even notice Alex coming in too, really. 

Brainy had long passed-out in one of the beds in the MedBay in the 2nd level of The Tower, Nia taking up the opposite bed. There was a brief moment when she walked in that made her feel tempted to occupy the third bed and take a break. But then, her chest tightened and a flare of pain lit up her whole insides, it was reason enough to keep her feet moving and back unto the computers trying to pinpoint Kara’s location. 

“I know,” she replies, “But it’s really not necessary, Alex. I’ll rest after.” 

She doesn’t need rest, what she needs is Kara to be here. 

She refuses to look at Alex, fingers flying across the screen. Alex shifts closer to her, lays a hand on her right arm prompting her to stop. Her eyes land on Alex's hand and continue up to Alex’s eyes. 

“We’ll find her, Lena. But you have to rest. I’m serious, Luthor. Come on,” Alex persists, wrapping her hand more firmly and tugging at Lena to follow her. 

She doesn’t say that rest will do her more harm than good. She doesn’t say that if she closes her eyes all she would see is Kara’s body floating all alone in space and the pain would start anew.

First, her chest and then travelling up the rest of her body until all there is is pain. 

She doesn’t say that she needs to work in order to distract her from the pain. 

Instead, she holds her tongue, lets Alex bring her to the 2nd level and tries to have the most fitful sleep of her life. 

***

It gets worse on the 5th day of the second week. It really isn’t a surprise considering this is the longest she’s had to go without Kara around. 

She’s taken mega-doses of painkillers in anticipation for today. Last night was a nightmare, she had to bite down on a hand towel as waves of pain assaulted her, again and again and again.

When morning came, it slowly subsided. Once feeling had returned to her legs she ran into the kitchen and swallowed 3 pills immediately. 

It doesn’t matter if she’s taken 3 or 4 or a whole bottle today, because it will just get worse and worse the longer Kara isn’t by her side. 

And so, she drags herself into The Tower again, because she needs to finally find a way to bring her back. 

She tries to ignore the tightening of her chest even though she’s really having a hard time breathing now. Not to mention the pain behind her eyes that is bit by bit making it difficult for her to coordinate with Brainy’s computations. 

She’s taken to keeping a bottle of pills on her person now. Opting to take them dry as if they were mint candies to keep her tongue moving while programming lines of codes. 

She thinks she’s still being subtle. 

Well, she is.

Until she isn’t. 

She crumples to the floor in front of everyone and a guttural scream of pain breaks free from her lips. 

***

When she wakes it’s to Alex sitting by her bedside. 

She lets out a groan in response to the sore feeling of her entire body. It’s like the time they were forced to do team building exercises all day in Mt. Helena and Lena nearly passed out. 

Alex hands her a bottle of water. She sips greedily before handing it back and wiping her mouth. 

“Hey? How you feeling?”

“Like I wanna die.”

Alex sighs and Lena intentionally avoids her eyes. 

“It’s Kara isn’t it?” Alex says and Lena doesn’t bother with lying anymore.

“It is.”

“How you survived almost two weeks away from her, I wouldn’t know. Two days away from Kelly—” Alex breaks off, inhales deeply and then sighs again, “That’s already torture for me.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” She retorts flatly, hands fiddling with the rough edges of the blanket. Alex looks like she wants to say something about that but Lena beats her there. 

“How?” She asks, gesturing to the IV drip. How am I not feeling pain right now? How am I still breathing? How am I still alive?

“The DEO created a special fluid for agents,” Alex reveals, “They distribute it to agents on field assignments. That way, them and their partners don’t die from pain. Good thing, J’onn had a stash hidden here, well, we always thought it would be for me and Kelly. Never expected you, Luthor.”

Lena takes that in for a moment. So, the DEO had a special formula of Dextrose to stave off the pain of soulmate separation and apparently she’s using up all the remaining bags of it. 

And it’s not even supposed to be for her. 

“Don’t worry about it. Brainy can replicate the formula.”

Worry must’ve shown on her face. So, she works on schooling her features again, she knows that Alex is itching to ask her questions but is trying to be polite. 

There’s really no use hiding anything now though. 

“K-Kara’s my soulmate,” she finally says out loud, and she’s always thought that it’s supposed to feel cathartic and freeing but instead it just feels heavy. 

“But I’m not hers,” she quickly finishes, better to rip the band-aid off. She briefly looks at Alex, whose face doesn’t give her anything; mouth a tight line and eyes shining with curiosity. 

She doesn’t know if Alex had ever had a conversation with Kara about soul mates before. Had they talked about it? Had Kara ever mentioned Lena acting too clingy whenever they don’t see each other for a short period of time? Had Kara ever told Alex if she would want a soul mate of her own?

But the look and silence from Alex’s side makes Lena refrain from asking. 

Instead, she starts to tell her how it had hit her the instant Kara walked in her office. How there was a zing! and her brain had immediately screamed HER. That’s the one. She’s the one. 

How when they met eyes and Kara had told her her name it felt like Lena’s soul finally found her home. 

“I asked for her name and I kind of thought she’d wait for me to get out of the office,” Lena trails off and Alex takes it for what it is. 

Their first meeting was all sparks for Lena but then, the conversation kept going and going and Clark had tried interrogating her and Kara didn’t do anything. 

Didn’t approach her afterwards, didn’t show any reaction that might’ve given Lena a clue that she felt the way Lena did. 

A conclusion was easily reached. 

Kara was hers but she wasn’t Kara’s. 

After the initial shock settled in, Lena set to work. Because that was what she did best. Work out a solution to everything and anything that poses a problem. 

How many people have dreamed about meeting their soul mate? How many years had Lena sat there hoping that tomorrow maybe, maybe she’ll finally meet them? She never expected this, never expected her soul to find a home that isn’t hers. 

Staying away from Kara was a non-starter, it’s only been a day since they parted but Lena can already feel the beginnings of pain. Slow but sharp shots of throbbing from behind her eyes then came the shaky hands then the dizziness and then— 

They became friends and Lena made sure Kara didn’t know anything about her growing need to be close to her; didn't let Kara know about the fact that the universe made Lena its most epic punchline yet. 

She agreed to scheduled game nights and movie nights and lunch dates. She never knew the pain of soulmate separation during those early days. Kara was always around; bringing her a salad, covering an L-Corp gala, crashing on Lena’s couch. 

“It was easy, you know? Kara was always there. What are friends for?” Lena mimics Kara and then repeats somberly, “It was easy, Alex.”

Or at least, Lena kept telling herself it was easy. She had it easy. She didn’t have to think about painkiller pills or cutting her business trips short—because the pain becomes unbearable too soon—like so many of her board members do. 

She had it easy with Kara, she can just call and she’ll be there. 

Until, Kara started going MIA. And for three days pain overtook her entire life. The pain made her unable to think clearly, the pills kicking in at the last minute. 

“You haven't been around. Supergirl's been there for me. Person who judges me on the very premise of my last name, but my best friend hasn't,” she accuses because Goddamnit Kara has no idea what kind of shit Lena had to endure with her going away with no warning. 

Logically, Lena knows it’s partly her fault. 

She knows that if she only just told Kara that she needs her to live, Kara would stay. But she doesn’t want anything to change. 

Of course, Kara would stay, it was the kind of thing a person like her would do. 

Kara would take care of her, whatever Lena needed she would give. 

But Lena didn’t want things that way. 

She wants Kara to want her the same way she wants her. 

But no, Lena’s not going to tell her that. She is never going to know. She will find an alternative. So, she injects as much venom as she can into that accusation, “B-but maybe it’s better if I leave.” 

She makes Kara leave. 

She just got her cure back and immediately Lena had pushed her away. The moment Kara stepped out of the door, a dull throb already kicked in her chest; as if telling Lena she was making a big mistake. 

She regretted that night so much, Jess had to drag her drunken body out of her office. 

Then it became normal again and Lena went back to not worrying about body pains again. 

Because a different kind of pain is trying to make itself known. 

A gaping hole in her heart that is entirely unrelated to the biological consequences of being separated from your soul mate. 

She was falling in love. 

She was falling in love and she wasn’t prepared for how it would hurt to have Kara not love her back. She can endure the physical pain, there are pills for that. 

But there wasn’t any type of medication to see your other half everyday and not have them see you as theirs. 

When Lex told her Kara’s secret. Something broke inside of her. Which was saying something, considering she was getting her heart broken every single day that Kara wouldn’t look her way. 

But to know how stupid she’s been? To realize that the flutter of her heart whenever Supergirl was near was her brain telling her it was Kara? 

There was no word for that. 

“I think, I kept rejecting the idea of Supergirl being Kara you know?” Lena huffs out, laughs drily, “Imagine how fucking painful it would be, Alex, if Supergirl was my soul mate. This person who didn’t trust me wholly, who lies behind my back, imagine if she was my soul mate? It would have felt humiliating. My body knew better, though,” she admitted sadly. 

“When Lex told me, all the little painful outbursts every time Supergirl flew away? It made sense. Everything made sense, but at the same time? Everything hurt too.”

She tried hurting her back. Created Hope. Experimented with Q-waves. Foolishly used Myriad. Teamed up with Lex.

But even through all of those? The separation pain never knocked her out. 

Even when they were fighting, Kara was still always around. Even when the world—the fucking multiverse got reset. The pain wasn’t enough to knock her out. Not like today. 

Because Kara was always lingering around convincing her not to join Lex, crossing paths in CatCo, flying into her home even if it was to call her a villain. 

All of those interactions were still sustenance for Lena. 

But this? This separation? This knowledge that Kara was somewhere out there, unreachable. That she could be lightyears away in space and it has been two weeks since Lena had last saw her, it has her every molecule shouting to go find Kara. 

“It’s never been like this before,” Lena confesses, “I thought I could do it without-”

“Help?” Alex supplies and Lena finally turns to her and she feels a hand squeeze her. 

“Yeah.” She mutters back softly. 

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Luthor. You’re part of the team now whether you like it or not. We are going to help you, we’re going to find a temporary solution for that pain and then we’ll get back to work and we’ll find Kara.”

[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Five.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 3200+

Chapter Five:

Once the meeting was done and over, Bucky and Y/N both left at the same time. Bucky was kind enough to hold the door open for her as they made their way back to the street, but Y/N’s goal was to get back to her car as quick as possible. So she gave him a curt thank you and moved quickly to leave. 

“Y/N!” Bucky shouted just as she was less than 10 feet away. She paused with a cringe on her face before turning back to him. He was walking hesitantly to catch up with her. “Listen, I know it’s been a few years.”

“A few is an understatement,” she mumbled and he heard, but decided to move on. 

“I just- I,” he stuttered. What the hell was he doing? “Would you want to get coffee? Catch up some? I-,” Before he could finish, she cut him off. 

“Listen, as great as that sounds,” she tried to say nicely, but he could see the nerves in her face. “I actually have plans right after this.” He deflated some in his spot. She noticed and though she thought she wouldn’t care if she hurt him after all these years, something deep down proved that thought was wrong. “I-I just haven’t seen my family in a while, and the little time I have left here this weekend, I wanted to spend time with them where I could.”

“Right, right,” Bucky tried to brush off unbothered, but failed. “I’m sure your dad misses you, and you him.”

“Yeah, it’s been a few years. That and I haven’t been back in the city in 10 years, so I have a lot to catch up on,” she nodded. 

“Wait, you haven’t been back here in 10 years?” he asked shocked. He thought she had a least been in town throughout the years. Even if he hadn’t seen her. 

“Um, yeah. I kinda…” she hesitated, but figured where would the truth hurt? “Guess I wasn’t ever really ready to get back here.” Bucky knew what she meant even if she wasn’t saying it verbatim, and it hurt his heart knowing he was the cause. Well, I guess both of them were, not just him. “That plus starting up Horizon, it was hard the first few years. But the family still sees each other for the holidays.”

“That’s right. Colorado,” Bucky nodded. 

Y/N had kept forgetting for some reason that Bucky and her father were with each other at least once a week most of the time. Always hanging out and doing guy things, or really, father and son types of things. Meaning he knew of, if not actually knew, Sherri, Denise, John, and Chloe too. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know about the yearly Colorado trip. 

“Right,” Y/N nodded with pursed lips, putting it all together and Bucky realized. 

“Oh, God sorry. I promise I’m not stalking you, it’s just your dad and I-” he started to defend his knowledge. 

“It’s fine James, really,” she said with a wave of her hand and a slight chuckle. One he never expected coming from her. And the name… He wasn’t sure the last time he heard her say Bucky. As soon as they decided to bring an end to their relationship, that nickname never passed her lips again. “I know you and my dad are close.”

“You’re not upset at that?” he asked, slightly confused. 

“I’m not evil. No matter how much you may think,” she mumbled the last part. “I-I… I know the relationship you two share. You’ve had it since the beginning of time practically. I wouldn’t dream to take that from either of you.”

Bucky didn’t respond. Because all he could do was look at her with a longing look. God, he missed her. Sure he held some anger from where they ended things, but he had moved on for the most part. Now he just missed his best friend. The girl he grew up loving. From best friends to girlfriend, to eventually fiance and wife. He missed her. Just who she was as a person when resent wasn’t a feeling she had toward you. 

Sure, it was a lot to think back on in just the thought that she still cared for him enough not to banish her father from him, but it spoke volumes for who she was as an individual and he missed that. 

“I mean not that I really have a say in other people’s life, but if I did, I wouldn’t do such a thing,” she looked down, fidgeting in her spot seeing him staring at her like earlier all over again. 

“I know you wouldn’t,” he responded, quickly noticing his stare and looking down at his own shuffling feet. “Well, in that case, I’ll let you go. Thomas has been excited beyond measures to have you home. I won’t keep you from him.”

She nodded as they made eye contact again and started to turn back to her car. But before she could get too far, knowing this may be the last time he sees her again for a while, if not ever, he had to say it. 

“Y/N?” She turned at her name and sent him a questioning look. “I’m glad you’re doing ok. You seem to really be taking the world by storm like you always were going to,” he smiled softly and she blushed some before returning the smile. 

“Thank you, James. You too. You seem like you’re doing some pretty amazing things yourself,” she nodded once. 

They didn’t speak more than that, but instead walked back to their cars. Not without a second glance here and there. 

___________________

“So? How did it go?” Thomas asked as soon as Y/N walked in through the garage door. Him and Sherri sitting at the breakfast nook with cups of coffee in hand and wide eyes ready for all the details. 

“It went,” she responded, throwing her purse on the island bar stool and going to make a mug for herself. 

“Wow, such a colorful description. Anything more and she’d be over doing it,” Thomas exaggerated, getting a giggle from Sherri who stood up and joined Y/N’s side grabbing the creamer and sugar for her. 

“Come on now, sis. Good? Bad? Magical?” she added the last word with flare. 

“Anything besides magical,” she sent a playful glare to the woman. “I will say this though.” She walked over and sat with a huff in the nook across from her father, practically deflating in her seat. “I am still technically Mrs. Barnes.”

“What?!” they both gasped. 

“How?” Thomas pushed on. 

“Well I guess the meeting today was just to update the papers and nothing else. I mean, yeah. A few signatures here and there, but it’s not finalized.”

“So it was just an revision meeting? When’s the final cut?” Sherri asked, leaning on the back of Thomas' chair. The two watching their daughter with intrigued eyes. 

“A few days?” she said more in a question. “Matthew, our new lawyer, said him and his partner are going to update them within the next day or so, and then send us the final write up to sign. After we send those back in, it’ll all be settled.”

“You still going to have John overlook everything for extra measures?”

“Never hurts. I really would rather NOT go through all this mess again. Getting divorced once sucks, but twice? Yeah, I’d rather not have to do it a third time. And all with the same man,” Y/N sighed heavily before taking a long chug of her coffee. 

The couple ahead of her sending each other a silent message to the other. Y/N hadn’t noticed as she closed her eyes at the upcoming headache, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have time to question it as her phone started going off. 

Looking down, she saw the office calling her. On a Saturday?

“I have to take this. I’ll be back in one second,” she groaned, taking her coffee mug with the buzzing phone to the back patio. “Hello?”

“Y/N! Hey, I have a quick update,” Melody’s voice came through the other line.

“Why are you at the office on a Saturday?” Y/N said a little sternly, but good intentions were behind it. 

“I got an email from our recycle plant we had scheduled for that Monday meeting and it couldn’t wait until Monday,” she was quick to explain. “But listen. They had to reschedule. The main guy and his wife, the bosses of the vendure who was coming to discuss the offers, had a family emergency come up and asked if they could postpone it a week.”

“Um, yeah sure. That’s fine,” Y/N shook her head trying to run the schedule through her mind. “Did you contact Bee’s Knees and let them know about the postponement?”

“Yes, and they said they were fine with it as well.”

“Ok, good,” Y/N nodded. “So I have a clear schedule besides background work Monday. Is that all?”

“Well…” Melody drug out. 

“Why does that sound like a Natasha kind of ‘well’,” Y/N questioned with a quirked eyebrow. This wasn’t receptionist or assistant talk about to happen. 

“Speaking of Nat, we thought because that was your only big meeting for the week and everything else is normal for the rest of the week, you should extend your stay in Brooklyn,” she replied. 

“What?”

“Come on. We both agree you haven’t seen your family in far too long, and a weekend trip isn’t going to cut it. That plus, Nat made a good point that you have tons of old friends you haven't seen in way too many years either,” she went on. “Why rush catching up with everyone, if all the work you need to do can be done on your laptop from Brooklyn? That and for once, your schedule isn’t overstacked with meeting after meeting. That happens once every few months. Plus, you’re already in New York!”

“Ok, ok. Calm down there, Sparky,” Y/N chuckled at her friend being out of breath. “I mean I guess, you’re not wrong…”

“She can’t be. I’m the one who came up with all this,” Nat’s voice broke in. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not be hanging out with Nat and Yelena,” Melody giggled bashfully. “Or be partially tipsy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the three, but couldn’t stop the laugh from coming out of her own mouth. 

“You sneaky little bitches,” Y/N chuckled. 

“What can I say? We’re Romanoff’s,” Nat smirked through the phone. 

“Well, I’m a Hill, but Romanoff by descent,” Melody added in. 

Again, another joking eye roll. 

“Now I have to change my flights and everything,” Y/N sighed. 

“Oh, woes me,” Nat mocked. “What a challenge it must be to log into your computer and change a flight to another week…”

“Hey, smartass,-”

“Lucky for you, you have me. I state once again,” Nat laughed. “I already checked into your flights to see if we can get a cheap reschedule.”

“How’d you know my login information?” Y/N asked, confused. 

“I have my ways, now don’t interrupt,” she scolded before continuing. “I was able to find you a flight around the same time, plenty of time to get to your rescheduled meeting, and it won’t cost you a hair off that pretty head of yours.”

“How’d you manage that?” Y/N asked with a smirk of her own now and a pop of her hip.

“I’ll say it again since apparently you’re deaf. I have. My ways,” the red head replied. 

“You sure you weren’t a spy in another life or something? Because sometimes you and Yelena have some strange tricks up your sleeves that I’ve only seen done in movies.”

“I would like the answer to that as well. Like how they coroerced me into a girls night while I was hiding in my apartment trying to take a relaxing night to read,” Melody spoke up. 

“Drink your juice, babygirl,” Yelena’s voice came quietly in the back. 

“With all that being said, we are gonna to let you go. We’re going to get all the details of last night out of this little one and go to a few clubs,” Nat explained. 

“Oh, I’d love to hear the details when you have them,” Y/N laughed. 

“I’ll have a nice 5 page paper ready for you tomorrow morning,” Yelena yelled from a distance.

“I’ll be expecting it. Now you girls go have a good time and please show Melody what she’s missing out on!”

“Can do, boss lady! Love you! See you next week!” 

With that, the phone call ended and Y/N looked at the empty lock screen. 

“I guess we’re staying a little longer.”

________________

“So, how’d it go?” Steve asked coming home from his early half shift. 

Bucky was sprawled across the couch with a pillow over his face, a sports playback running in the background and a beer that looked like he had been nursing all afternoon on the coffee table. 

“She looks great,” he mumbled into the cushion, but Steve couldn’t syfer the words.

“You’re going to have to say that again without a throw pillow over your face,” he chuckled, kicking off his shoes and throwing his keys by the door before heading to the nearby kitchen. 

“I said, she looks great!” Bucky all but grunted as he sat up. Frustration and annoyance clear in his answer. 

“And why do you sound like that’s a horrible thing?” Steve laughed again from the distance. 

Bucky groaned as he stood up and walked into the other room with Steve. He was parading through the fridge for an afternoon snack, or by the looks of the clock on the oven, lunch. 

It was 12:30 already?

“Because Steve, it makes it hurt all the more,” he pouted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the island in the middle of the space. 

“Her looking good, hurts you?” Steve asked, standing up with a tupperware bowl of leftovers in his hand. 

“I don’t know!” Bucky sneered at him, angry that his best friend wasn’t catching on to his feelings that even he didn’t understand. “I guess deep down, I was hoping she didn’t age well so that walking away would be easier. But there she was, walking in like fine wine. All mature and curvy, and… Perfect…” he mumbled the last part. “She did smack me though,” he added, thinking back with a dazed face. 

“Smack you?” Steve chuckled, popping the cold food in the microwave. 

“Our lawyer is blind. I asked a simple question of out of all the states to live in, why New York in that kind of condition?” Bucky said, hating how it sounded. “I realize now, after processing it, that was stupid and rude.”

“Hence why she smacked you,” Steve laughed, copying the brunette's stance on the opposite counter. “You’re an occupational therapist, Buck. Out of all the things to understand, it’s people adapting to their handicaps and disabilities.” He couldn’t help the laugh at his friend who seemed oblivious to the irony. 

“I was nervous, ok?!” Bucky defended, throwing his arms up and going to pace the room now. “Y/N and I had been sitting in awkward silence for the most part of the meeting so far, and that was the first piece of conversation that came to mind.”

“I’m hoping for your sake, he wasn’t a dick about it.”

“He wasn’t. He actually said he gets asked that a lot. Apparently, he hasn’t been blind all his life and said he’s lived here all that time. Helps when you grow up in the environment you live in.”

“Very true,” Steve agreed, grabbing his food and stirring it around before taking a bite and talking again. “Besides her looking ‘perfect’, did the process go well? You know, besides her reprimanding you like a mom?”

“Ha ha. You’re so funny,” Bucky deadpanned. “But yes. We signed our things and updated it all. Hey, did you know she’s a co-founder of Nat’s woman’s home? I guess not a co-founder, but investor?”

Steve finished his bite and shook his head. “Can’t say I did. It must be recent if that’s the case because neither Nat or Y/N told me about that.”

“I think it is, but damn…”

“Damn what?” Steve asked. 

“Well, at first she had me dropping my jaw at the fact that she did everything and more that she had hoped to do. She’s become an environmentalist like her grandmother and has started a whole business based on it.”

“I mean she was an environmentalist as soon as her GG had her walking. Remember how she would always take our straws at restaurants and have the waitress take them back so we didn’t ‘kill the turtles’? And that was before that was a like a worldwide trend,” Steve remenised, moving to the living room to eat at the couch. Bucky following. 

“God, yes. She started carrying like 10 reusable straws with her as soon as they came out with them. That and remember the amount of reusable bags she had in her backseat any given time of the week?” Bucky laughed, joining him in thinking back to the dated memories. 

“So many she would hand them out to people in parking lots at grocery stores to use themselves,” Steve added. “God, she really loves this planet. I admire her passion though. We need everyone to have a heart for our home like that.”

“She made it everyone's mission around her to know just how important it was,” Bucky smiled at the thought as he looked off in the distance, wrapped in the memories he loved. But that wasn’t the point. The point was he would never be close with her like that again. What they had was done and over… Or would be. “Funny thing actually…” Bucky chuckled awkwardly. 

“What’s that?” Steve asked, looking at the TV in front of him. 

“We may or may not still be married…”

There was a pause as Steve stopped mid-chew and slowly turned his gaze from the baseball reruns on the screen to Bucky with a tight smile. 

“Excuse me?”

“I guess that wasn’t the endgame for today’s meeting…”

“What was?”

“Getting things updated and signed so that the papers were actually ready for our divorce,” Bucky answered. 

“So she’s still Y/N Barnes?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t say that to her face. She looks like she wants to physically throw up when you call her that,” Bucky slouched in his chair. His hand coming up to cover his face as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger. 

“So still married?”

“Still married.”

“How long?” Steve sighed, putting his food on the counter and leaning back in his own seat. 

“As long as it takes to make up the new divorce settlements and get them signed and sent back in. Until then… I’m a married man.”

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

- Tags will be closing soon.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley​ @ximaginx​ @vicmc624​ @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany​ @jessyballet​ @angstysebfan​ @tita127​ @semistablecentenarian​ @im-a-light-child​ @alyssahowden​ @studiesinspanish​ @natyvwe​ @rebekahdawkins​ @fanfictionjunkie1112​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @scotlandasshole​ @aquariusbarnes​ @shinykoalacat​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​ @heyiamthatbitch​​ @lizzymacy555​​  @srrymydood​​ @xa-dia​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​ @morganclaire4​​ @connie326​​ @captain-asguard​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​ @teenagedreams-bucky​​ @shower-me-with-roses​​ @pham-tastical @livstilinski​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​​ @lauravicente​​ @kakakatey​​ @traceyaudette​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​  @laneygthememequeen​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @sandlee44​​ @thorne93​​ @thefaithfulwriter​​ @essie1876​​ @greyeyedsmile14​​ @capsiclehan​​  @xostephanie​​ @averyrogers83​​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @snffbeebee​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​ @charmedbysarge​​ @jbarness​​ @bellamy-barnes​​ @katiaw2​​ @aikeia​​ @stopjustlovethemcu​​

[lucemferto]

I wrote that Wilbur scene I talked about yesterday. I don't know if I captured any of the characters' voices, but I tried. It's around 1,800 words.

Sorry to spoil the surprise, but this scene has a twist!

„I’m not joining you.“

Wilbur’s eyes grew narrow. His cold gaze lingered on Tommy’s face. The boy’s expression was resolute; unwavering.

But there was this slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. Just the faintest quiver in his lips. A weakness to be exploited.

“This burger van …” Tommy hesitated “… it’s just history repeating itself. It will end with us hurting people again …”

“’With us hurting people’?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

As he stepped closer, all the determination that Tommy had projected seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Wilbur gave him a wide smile – a thinly-veiled threat behind the appearance of affability.

“Tommy, we never hurt anyone! L’Manburg was a grand old time, Tommy, don’t you remember? Me as president; you as—”

“Maybe it wasn’t, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered. A glower displaced his once outwardly cheery disposition.

“You’re not making sense.”

“I’m not making sense?!” Tommy raised his voice, a blustering anger flaring up and painting over the insecurities that had been so apparent just moments before. “The presidency killed you, Wilbur! And it almost killed Tubbo! I can’t let that—”

“Tubbo?!” A hoarse laugh escaped Wilbur’s throat; more like the angry bellowing of a rabid dog. “Why the fuck should we care about Tubbo?! He betrayed us, Tommy!”

“T-That’s not true!”

Wilbur stepped closer; Tommy took a step back – but the walls of the van were already pressed up against his back. The older man was towering over him, casting him in shadow. A wild and manic energy was glinting in his eyes, bloodshot and red like sundown soon giving way to a dark night.

“He fucking teamed with the enemy, Tommy! What else would you call that?!”

“He still cares—”

Wilbur’s hand shot forward. Like the maw of an angry serpent, it closed itself around Tommy’s throat. All colour drained from the boy’s face – his complexion like that of a corpse.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Tommy?!” Little droplets of spittle rained on Tommy’s skin as Wilbur’s face inched ever closer to his. “Tubbo doesn’t care; he never cared! You were just a fucking tool to him, Tommy! Someone he could use and throw away once you were no longer useful!”

Wilbur’s dirty fingernails burrowed themselves into Tommy’s neck – soon trails of red were trickling down into the boy’s shirt.

“I’m the only who cares, Tommy! I’m the only one who ever cared about you!”

“Wilbur! Y-you’re hurting me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy! I don’t ca—”

“STOP!”

The scene halted; as though time had frozen. A figure emerged from the darkness of the burger van.

It was Wilbur.

Though he and the Wilbur currently choking Tommy looked almost identical upon first glance, there were some striking differences: Gleaming red eyes contrasted against tired brown ones; demonic intensity against a dull exhaustion. The first Wilbur seemed almost unnaturally tall and imposing as he towered over Tommy; the second Wilbur carried himself smaller, more guarded.

“I d-don’t …” For a moment the voice of the second Wilbur seemed to falter; but soon he snapped back to a more confident bearing; all insecurity obscured behind a steadfast façade. “No more!”

A deafening silence fell upon the van. Then, slowly, as though unattached from his neck, Tommy’s head turned to Wilbur. Brilliant blue gave way to a searing crimson; fear to a wide, sharp-teethed grin.

“Whaaaat? You don’t enjoy the little play I put on just for you? And I thought you’d be impressed with all the cool ghost shit I can do now.”

With a sickening ratch, two horns ripped through Tommy’s temples. Shadow swallowed his blond locks, transforming them into dark, slicked back hair. Murky, unkempt facial hair sprout from his skin as his once lively complexion grew grey and translucent. Smokey tendrils enshrouded the red and white T-Shirt, before it emerged as a black business suit, the bloodred tie serving as the only blotch of colour.

The ghost of Schlatt had appeared before Wilbur.

“Guess it hit a little too close to home, huh?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. While the illusionary Tommy had disappeared upon Glatt’s arrival, the facsimile of himself was still standing there. Frozen in eternal wrath.

Wilbur’s mouth grew thin. “I wouldn’t do that to Tommy. I would never hurt him.”

Feigned shock contorted Glatt’s mouth into a darkly comical expression. “That’s not what he told me.”

Wilbur felt something icy sting in his chest “What?”

Glatt nodded. “Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I was in my gym doing reps, snorting creatine, you know how it goes, when suddenly I hear some … some whining.”

Wilbur immediately took notice. He knew what Glatt was talking about. The lump in his throat felt like it would soon suffocate him.

Glatt didn’t seem to notice.

“The sound of some low-T beta just letting it all out. And when I go take a look, who else should I find but—"

“Tommy …”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, when I turn the corner, I see this real pathetic mess just sitting on the floor, sobbing. I told him to shut the fuck up, because he was throwing me off my game. But he just wouldn’t stop, so good guy that I am – you remember how great I am with kids!”

“You never were.”

“Oh no, I was! That Tubbo-kid, he had it good in Manberg.”

Wilbur flinched – whether it was because of the bastardized name of the country he had once loved and loathed or because Glatt’s words woke some memories in him that he’d soon rather forget; he did not know.

“You had him executed.”

Glatt nodded, a wistful smile curling his ashen lips. “Good times, good times. Anyway, the little ghost-brat … he tells me his name is Gommy.”

Glatt let out a harsh, bellowing laugh. Wilbur could not share his amusement. He had almost forgotten how much he hated Schlatt’s sneering.

The ghost still had not managed to fully compose himself. “Gommy, that’s such a dumb name! Gommy … you wanna know what a good name is?”

“Is it—?”

“GLATT!”

The sound came out like a bile-filled belch. Wilbur closed his eyes in exasperation; his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I figured … Does this story have a point or are you just here to waste my time?”

Glatt frowned. “What, am I not good enough company for you?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

For the first time in their conversation, Glatt’s face grew more serious. His red stare tore into Wilbur; almost drilled into his mind. Wilbur answered the ghost’s stare with what he hoped was a cold, unreadable expression.

But he knew that in Schlatt’s presence, there were no masks to wear. No intent to hide. That ram was the only man that could strip him bare.

Finally, Wilbur had to break eye contact. With a sound of exasperation, he spat out: “Get to the point!”

“‘Get to the point’” The false Wilbur moved his lips, but it was Glatt’s mocking voice that emerged from behind them. “Man, I liked it more when you were a little ghost bitch. You used to come to my gym actually; did some reps. Annoying accent, but damn, what a cute ass.”

Wilbur’s jaw tensed. He had enough of this.

“I’m leaving.”

With a few long strides he had reached the exit of the van. The cold, fresh night air was beckoning him; away from the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

Then that obnoxious voice called after him again: “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Ghost-boy didn’t have the nicest things to say about you …”

Wilbur froze. His hand was on the door handle, ready to release him from this dark, stuffy room. It would be so easy to just leave; to rid himself of this headache. He did not need to stay.

“… You’re lying.”

A wide grin stretched Glatt’s thin lips – Wilbur couldn’t see it; but he could hear it in that tone of his.

“I’m the one who’s lying? No, no, no, I’m merely recounting what 'Gommy' told me.”

Wilbur turned around. Glatt’s smug smirk was even more unbearable than he had imagined.

“You know, after he was done bawling his eyes out and blubbering like a little bitch –“

Glatt’s face shifted into warped replica of Tommy’s – big shimmering eyes and a little doll like mouth quivering with exaggerated sorrow: “‘D-D-Dweam, D-Dweam, h-h-he’— Anyway, he told me that while my cabinet was having a grand old time over in Manberg, you were being very mean to him.”

Wilbur shook his head. “I-I’ve changed. I apologized!”

Tommy-Glatt let out another bellowing laugh. It cut through Wilbur like a knife through a paper door.

“You think an apology could make this better!”

Wilbur jumped back. The fake Wilbur began to move once more. With a thundering roar, his fist made contact with the fake Tommy’s temple. A loud thud; Tommy impacted with the floor of the van. But before he could get up, the fake Wilbur began kicking him in the stomach; screaming obscenities and curses.

It wasn’t Wilbur’s voice – it was so clearly Glatt’s poor imitation of his accent. With each kick, Glatt-Tommy’s eyes bulged out of his skull; not like a person, but like a grotesque cartoon. It was a farcical display.

But Wilbur – the real Wilbur – was paralyzed. His mind was clouded with memories and nightmares; fears bloated and distorted by thirteen years of isolation

“That’s not … that’s not what happened!”

Schlatt’s piercing, high-pitched cackling erupted out of Tommy’s mouth once more.

“Boy, Limbo really did a number on you!”

With a jump Glatt-Tommy was up on his feet again – his nose bloody and broken, his skin coloured black and blue; his hateful grin revealing multiple missing teeth.

“Not that you were all that together beforehand – ‘Tommy, let’s be the bad guys!’ ‘No, Wilbur don’t blow up Manberg. If you blow up Manberg, I’m gonna piss my pants—’ ‘Shut up, Tommy!’”

“I never hit him!” Wilbur’s panicked exclamation interrupted the smear show. “I never hit him!”

Glatt-Tommy shook his head; the satisfied grin not leaving his face. “That’s not what he told me! And what’s worse, when that green guy – Dream, I think his name was? – while he was using Tommy as his own personal punching bag, your ghost was off in the woods jerking off or something. And now you're calling Dream your hero!”

Wilbur felt as all colour drained from his face. The van around him began to spin; darkness and alcohol and cigarette smoke choking even the last ounce of the outside air he could smell.

“I-I …”

Slowly the façade of Tommy began to melt once more. Slowly, deliberately. A nightmarish display. Glatt’s and Tommy’s voices spoke in unison; their echo a cacophony in Wilbur’s ears.

“Face it, loverboy. You will always be a bad guy. No number of apologies will change that. He will never forgive you.”

[nanasparadise]

“Losing my senses for you” Yan!Joseph (Part 3) x female reader

Hiya everyone! Here’s a little Yan! Joseph (Part 3) x female reader for y’all because apparently, I like to see Suzi suffer lol

Summary: You and your soulmate Joseph share a pleasant dream, as always. Though suddenly, the elderly wants to take your friendship to the next level...

TW: age gap, implied cheating, implied kidnapping, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI 

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 2022

Joseph had always thought of himself as a sensible man. Sensible enough to fall in love with his current wife and have a child with her, disregarding the fact that Suzi Q wasn’t his soulmate. Why would he have denied himself love, a family? No, Joseph had been rational enough to not care about that ‘dreaming of your soulmate’ humbug. That had been the case until he’d met you.

The male would have never imagined seeing his soulmate in his dream, not after all these years being married and especially not as an elderly man. You were still so young, a blooming flower in your twenties, ready to conquer the world. How could Joseph be your soulmate? But there was no denying that the Brit was constantly dreaming of you. Nearly every morning he’d wake up, your face still lingering on his mind while his spouse slept peacefully next to him, knowing nothing about her husband’s dream invader. Sometimes, he’d even whisper your name. Joseph didn’t have the heart to tell her, after all, Suzi had been his love for most of his life. But apparently, not the one to spend the remainder of it with.

This night wasn’t an exception when it came to your nocturnal visits. This time, the two of you sat on the terrace of a café near Joseph’s flat in New York City. The crowding streets of the metropolis filled the air with a cacophony of sounds: honking taxi cars, chatting people, the occasional dog that barked loudly. Even though every tiny thing seemed to buzz with life, Joseph knew that none of this was real- all would cease to exist once he’d wake up, except for him and you. Politely, you smiled at the Brit. 

“Hello Mr. Joestar, how are you doing today?”, you greeted him, as you always did. Both of you had agreed that you wouldn’t refer to the elderly man with his first name, wanting to keep some distance between you. Just like Joseph, you had been more than surprised to notice that your soulmate wasn’t a person around your age. Though never having been openly said, you two knew you wouldn’t pursue any romantic advances towards each other. At some point, Joseph had even revealed to you that he was married and had a daughter and a grandson. But since you hadn’t found a way yet to end these dreams, you were behaving on an amicable basis. The male believed you’d probably see in him a grandfather figure. Though Joseph couldn’t tell anymore if he saw you as a granddaughter …

As per usual, the pair consisting of you chattered the whole time. You told him about your new job, how you were nervous to meet your colleagues, wondering if you’d get along well. While you were talking, you kept fiddling the napkin next to you, demonstrating your anxiety. During your countless encounters, Joseph had learnt to read your body language. Confidently, the man rested his real gloved hand on top of yours, stopping your tic. You stared into the male’s green eyes, astonishment written on your face. 

“Y/N,” Joseph said softly, “you don’t need to be nervous, dear. How could they not like such a ray of sunshine like you?” He flashed you a big grin at his final words. You averted his tender gaze. Oh, how Joseph loved this bashful expression on your face. You were so easy to tease. 

“Thank you, Mr. Joestar, though I think you’re exaggerating.” 

“Please, call me Joseph”, the elderly man blurted out. A big thumb idly drew circles on the back of your hand. He didn’t know what had driven him into saying this, into breaking the formal distance between you -  at least he didn’t know consciously. Deep inside, he was well aware that he loved you - more than just a friend, than a granddaughter, hell, even more than Suzi. In the end, you were his soulmate. Suddenly, all the previous talk about how any other kind of love paled compared to the love for your soulmate didn’t seem like humbug to Joseph anymore. No, the once reasonable man had been utterly struck by the arrow of a foolish love, a love he hadn’t experienced beforehand – not even with his wife. He had been struck by you. Your surprise only grew. 

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”, you asked hesitantly, eyeing your hand. Joseph stayed persistent though. 

“Not at all, Y/N. It’s only natural to call me by my first name after all our dates, isn’t it?”, the man winked playfully at you. He really wanted to see how far he could go with his flirtatious banter until you’d retreat. Or maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d feel the same as him, wanting more out of these encounters. Maybe… Hope blossomed in Joseph’s chest, making the elderly man feel like a lovesick teenager all over again. Only you held that much power over him. Your following words crushed that spark of hope fairly quickly though. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Joestar…,” you retorted, obviously refusing to address him as Joseph, “Don’t you think it would enable unwanted feelings between us? This is quite a hard situation anyway for us – you with your family, me with my young age – I don’t think we need to complicate things further.” At this statement, the light in Joseph’s green eyes extinguished like a flame. Of course. He might have lost his mind, but you didn’t. No, you remained rational, cool-headed. 

“Ah, I see”, Joseph simply replied, barely hiding the disappointment in his raspy voice. “This is for the best, you old fool,” the tiny voice whispered in Joseph’s head, “How could you keep up with her?” Bitter at his own thoughts, the man made a crestfallen grimace. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t intend to hurt your feelings in any way. I do enjoy the time we spend together and I appreciate you, Mr. Joestar”, you added remorsefully. The Brit’s heart warmed at your words of consideration. You cared for him, you must, he was convinced. The effects of the soulmate bond couldn’t just be ignored by you. Maybe, there was still a chance for him. Maybe…

“Y/N”, Joseph murmured your name ever so gently. Surprised by the softness of his tone, you looked up to him. He briefly wetted his lips before he proceeded talking. “I appreciate you, too. A lot, actually. Every time I’m in your company, I’m the happiest man alive. You draw me in and I can’t help myself but wanting more.” You tried to interrupt him, but Joseph quickly stopped you by raising his hand and continuing his speech. “Ah ah, honey, please let me finish. I know what you want to say: ‘But Mr. Joestar, what about your family?’ Well, they’ll understand, they have to. We’re soulmates, I can’t just ignore that. I’ll leave my wife for you, then we can start a life together. Please, my love, consider my words. After all, even without knowing it, I’ve been waiting the whole time for you.” Joseph gazed intensely in your eyes, yearning painted across his face. He patiently watched you gulp heavily and waited for your answer while he put his hand back on yours. 

“Your words are sweet and I’m grateful for your sincerity, Mr. Joestar,” you eventually sputtered, “you’re dear to me, I’d be lying if I said you weren’t, but not in the way you intend it to be. I don’t think I could ever see you in a romantic way. And even if I could, I don’t want to be a homewrecker. I know you love your family, you shouldn’t toss them away for me.” Joseph sighed deeply. He’d learnt with experience to tame his quick temper, but still, impatience flared up inside him. 

“Why can’t you give me, give us, a try? I’m aware that our initial plan was to keep some distance between us, but if we both have feelings for each other, why deny them then? You said you couldn’t see me as a lover, but I don’t believe that. Give me a chance and I’ll prove you how much I love you.” Joseph slightly squeezed your hand while spilling out his passionate words. “You said I shouldn’t toss away my family, but you want me to throw you away. How could I do that? Every morning, it’s your name that escapes my lips, your body I want to feel next to mine, your scent I want to inhale.” The man grew desperate the more he talked. “Don’t worry about our age difference, I know a way for you to grow old with me.” Joseph perceived your puzzled face from the corner of his eyes as he fixated his gaze on your hand, but kept speaking. “I can give you so much Y/N, if only you’d let me. Please, let us try it.” He finally looked up to you, fearing and yet anticipating your reaction. Yes, only you could make him this nervous… Your brows were tightly furrowed, though a hint of sympathy seeped through your kind eyes. 

“Joseph…”, you whispered softly. The Brit’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird upon hearing you finally say his first name. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to reveal this to you, but it’s only fair for me to be honest to you as well. I’ve actually met this man a while ago.”

Joseph’s jaw dropped at your confession and his eyes widened. No, this couldn’t be true. He felt as if his whole world had shattered in this moment. Cruelly, you decided to hurt him more with your words. “And to be frank, things are going well. We’ve even talked about moving in together. I think he might be the one I want to spend my life with, Joseph.” Thud. Joseph’s prosthetic hand slammed harshly on the table. Instinctively, you winced at the loud noise. 

“Why would you say that to me?!”, the man in front of you shouted, desperation coating his voice, “Why would you break my heart like that? I can’t believe it! Here I am, thinking about leaving my wife for you while you’ve been having fun with some other guy!” Joseph’s grasps painfully tightened around your hand. His handsome features had transformed into a terrifyingly furious grimace. You gasped fearfully, trying to retrieve your hand from Joseph’s hold. “Why would you bother to be with him when I’m right here? He isn’t your soulmate, I am!” Hot anger flooded the male’s body. It’s been years since he felt this kind of raw emotion again. Joseph glared at you while you still tried unsuccessfully to escape his grasp. Eventually, he let go of your hand. Hastily, you pulled it away from the table. Taking a deep breath, you spoke up. 

“I think you forget that I’m still an independent woman, Mr. Joestar.” 

“So we’re back at the surname, huh?”, the Brit thought gloomily. 

“No matter if we’re soulmates, I’ve still got my own life, as you do. Which means I can choose with whom I’m in a relationship. I hope this incident here is non-recurring and that you’ve come back to your senses the next time we’ll see each other.”

With these final words, Joseph woke abruptly up. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from his intense outbreak. While laying down on his bed, he tried to calm his agitated breaths. “I should come back to my senses, huh?,” the male muttered quietly into the room as to not wake up Suzi, “What a bold thing coming out of your mouth, since you’re the source for my irrational behaviour.” Yes, Joseph had always thought of himself as a sensible man. But times had changed. And drastic times called for drastic measures. Subconsciously, the Brit knew exactly what had to be done if he didn’t want to lose you to that pest you thought was your boyfriend. Slowly, he climbed out of his bed. Joseph glanced one more time at his spouse’s sleeping form. 

There was no turning back now.

Out of a drawer, the man grabbed a polaroid camera and called out his Stand.

[abovethesmokestacks]

Hidden Love

Title: Hidden Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: All audiences

Warnings: None. Or me, probably butchering the Victorian era. Also, you know, slight angst, because I can’t help myself

This story sparked from a moodboard I made a while back, of Victorian King!Bucky and maid!reader, and it kinda got away from me, as everything tends to do these days. And listen... I know. The term Victorian really only relates to the history of the United Kingdom during Queen Victoria’s reign, but please bear with me on this and suspend belief and step into a world where during this era, Bucky is king, and enjoy the stay.

The sounds of crystal clinking together should be like silver bells carrying over the din of hushed conversation, but to his ears, it's like nails on a chalkboard. The food before him is rich and each bite seems to swell in his mouth, forced down in thick swallows and gulps of wine. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and his feet itch to leave, to stand up and walk out. He could.

"More wine, your highness?"

He could, he is king.

The server's voice is low, bowed down appropriately to only be heard by him. He shouldn't have another glass, for the sake of his mental faculties. He should, to keep up appearances. He can already sense his mother's eyes on him, the calculating gaze he has known his entire life. The dowager queen, a mother only as it serves her image in the kingdom than anything else.

"Everything all right, James?" she asks, and oh, that tone is deceptive. Kind on the surface, but weighed just so with the barest hint of concern to draw the attention of the other guests.

He wants to grimace, his name sounding contrived and wrong in his ears, granted with the weight of legacy, set aside for a few blessed years of childhood and then thrust back upon him when illness took his father and forced him back into a mold he would much rather escape. The coronation had his stomach in knots, a chill persisting in his bones and a simmering dread as he was crowned - anointed by God, what god would place their faith in someone so flawed as man? - His Majesty James, by the Grace of God, King of the Nation, Defender of the Faith.

"Nothing, mother. Pondering my choice of drink."

He tries for amicable, jovial. It is the annual Christmas feast, why shouldn't he be happy? His mother quirks an eyebrow, holding his gaze just long enough for the hairs on the back of his head to stand on end before her eyes glide from him to take up the conversation she left.

Some defender of the faith he is, he doesn't even have faith in himself.

An eternity seems to pass as dishes pass before him, plate after plate until he feels nauseous. Around him, the atmosphere has relaxed, emboldened by wine and spirits, and even his mother is no longer sparing him a glance to keep track of him. Somehow, he would have thought being king would have meant finally being free of her shadow, but she is still there. No longer a shadow, but a presence right behind him, a metaphorical foot on his robe to remind him of his place, and hers. He wonders if anyone has noticed that his glass of wine has not been refilled in a long time, that he has been nursing it steadily and that his boisterous laughs have all been hollow.

He could leave, but not without drawing attention. Just a little while longer. He glances at the opulent grandfather clock, feels its ticking like a heartbeat. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

Each tick of the clock is an endless journey. Through rigid traditions, glasses of brandy, sweet sugarplums and fragrant pines, all he can feel is the passing of time, one second after another without an end in sight. Gifts are exchanged, crackers pulled with cloying glee and he feels more like a fool than a king when one of the footmen is coaxed into slipping the thin paper crown on his head. His mother bows out with effortless grace, sparking hope that maybe, just maybe, he can make his escape.

"Let me accompany you, mother," he asks, begs, voice low as he stands up to offer his arm for her.

Take it. Please, for the love of all things good and holy, take it.

Her smile is not exactly smug, but it hides a kind of joy that he thinks must be sour.

"Nonsense, my dear. Don't leave on my account, stay, be merry."

It's loud enough to be heard, for plenty of people to hear her deny him his exit under the guise of a mother not wanting to spoil her son's fun. He tries not to let his gaze harden or his forced smile to weaken, instead kissing his mother's hand and bidding her good night. Propriety will keep him here another hour at least. The clock ticks, chipping away at the span of time before he can have his freedom.

He thinks he might finally be going out of his mind when the clock strikes midnight. His other guests are either half-asleep, lulled by brandy and the late hour, or eagerly playing cards for the trinkets they received in their crackers. Enough. He takes his leave, wanting to roll his eyes at the hasty displays of respect and deference. No matter. He is free. A quick trip to fill up a plate from the abandoned dinner table, something for the road, as he jests with his escort. The palace is quiet when they traverse the corridors to his private chambers, their footsteps echoing ominously with nothing but a candelabra to light their way.

"I think I'll manage myself tonight," he tells his escort when they're outside his door. "Go sleep, I won't tell on you."

They put up the token protest, but still leave, hastening down the dark hallway while he lets himself in. The world feels more manageable inside. It's still a constant reminder of his privilege, of the opulence of his station, but it's his. No one can enter without his permission, no one can disturb him without just cause. Sometimes he wishes this was his entire kingdom.

Setting down the plate on his bed, he loosens the ascot, glad to be rid of the strangle-like hold around his neck. Off with the tailcoat, unbutton the waistcoat. Breathe.

Thunk.

He whips around, gaze falling on the large armoire in the corner. The silence that follows is deafening, but he knows what he heard. With a smile curling his lips, he swipes a treat off the plate, hiding it behind his back while he closes the distance, pulling the doors open in a rush, only for his ears to ring with a piercing shriek.

"Hush! Good god, you'll wake the entire wing, calm down! It's just me!"

The girl cowering into the corner of the armoire claps her hands over her mouth, eyes that had only moments ago been wide with fear now glaring at him as she breathes  through her nose to calm down. It’s strange, how his heart beats quicker, how the heaviness of his mind lightens under her fierce gaze. Years ago, they met by accident, he was still prince, young and cocksure, and she was, as she is now, a maid in the vast household that served his father the king. It wasn’t prudent, but he enjoyed giving her his attention, little flirtatious exchanges that somehow grew into a tender love with stolen kisses in hidden nooks. She has never asked for anything, much as he has offered to help her. She has declined promotions, slapped him for trying to sneak a small pouch of coins into her apron, made him promise not to do anything that would change her status in or outside the court.

He extends his hand to her, helping her up and out, twirling her around the room, making the skirt of her black dress flare around her, and his soul soars at the way her face settles into a sweet smile. With an exaggerated bow, he holds out his hand with the hidden treat, a sugar plum. She plucks it from her hand, delight colouring her features as she takes a small bite. 

“I thought you were…” she begins, swallowing before dropping her gaze, slipping the rest of the sugarplum into her apron pocket. “I wasn’t sure you were alone. I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure if you would come.”

They come to a halt by the window of his room, and instinctively, he positions his back to the window, protecting her presence with the frame of his body. This may be his private quarters, but the palace has eager eyes and ears.

“My mother.” 

It’s answer enough. Their love lives in the shadows, in the small kingdom of his room, in the hidden passages of the palace and with notes tucked into cracks only they know about. His heart aches, because she deserves so much more, wishes the world knew about this generous soul that holds his heart in her palms, whose smile lights up his presence even during his darkest days, who will take nothing but the reassurances of his affections and the kisses he bestows freely.

“I came as quickly as I could,” he adds, bringing up her hands to kiss her knuckles. They’re cold, worn from hard work, but he loves them as dearly as the rest of her.

“She knows.”

It’s simple. A statement, not a question, and her hands slide from his grip as she takes a step back.

“We don’t know that. She enjoys tormenting me, we’ve known that for quite some time. And even if she knows…” He closes the space between them again, wraps her up in his embrace, and nudges her chin to make her look at him. “Even if she knows, she won’t do anything overt. She can’t.”

“She’s the-” his love starts, eyebrows knit together, mouth set in a way that he knows she won’t let this go.

“She thinks she owns me. She thinks she controls me. In her eyes, I am as much a servant to her as anyone on staff. And I’m happy to let her keep her delusion, if it means I get to be with you, if it gives me time to…”

“To what?” she asks, tilting her head. “If it gives you time to do what, Bucky?”

To fight for that, he wants to say. His nickname, falling sweet from her lips and making him feel like a person. It’s a treasure from those happy childhood years, when he’d only hear it from his string of governesses and teachers, a concession to play pretend at a normal life. It felt like stepping out of a pleasant dream when he had to leave it behind, had to step into the heavy legacy of James, into the title of king. He looks at her, the only one to call him Bucky these days, and feels courage rise with the beating of his heart.

“To figure out a way for us to be together,” he tells her resolutely, continuing on his next breath. “We’ll go away, I’ll make sure we’ll have means to live until we can settle down. We’ll go far away, we’ll cross the sea if we have to.”

He twirls them around in a dance, away from the window, away from vulnerability of unseen eyes. Away. Gone. Together.

“Bucky…”

“We’ll live in a cottage, you and I. I’ll… I’ll learn a trade. I can tend horses. I can hunt. We’ll have a life that’s… that’s ours.”

“Buc- Your highness!”

The title cuts him down, poleaxes him and pulls him out of the dreams like someone has poured a vat of cold water on him. She’s no longer in his arms, once again removed, three solid paces between them, and she looks so small, so despairing, hands folded in front of her. This time, she finds her voice before he can find his.

“I can’t ask you to do that. You’re king. You… You have responsibilities. You have a realm that depends on you for guidance and rule. You can’t just… I’m no one. I’m not important. I’m- You are king, and kings marry queens and live happily ever after. I don’t fit into that story, your highness.”

He takes a step forward, she takes another step backwards. Even so, it hurts more to hear the way she talks about herself, makes herself small while he grows to something fabled and grand, when truth be told, he feels like all this time, he’s been walking on stilts and wearing a costume to hide the person he really is.

“Neither do I,” he starts, winces inwardly at how trite it sounds. “I didn’t want this. To be king, I mean. It’s not for me. I don’t care for politics and mind games, I don’t care for frivolousness and rigid customs. This is a prison to me. It’s beautiful, and grand, but it’s a gilded cage nonetheless. Outside this room, away from you, I am not myself. I am weak. I am a pawn in a game. My desires don't matter. You…” He takes a careful step forward, hope springing when she stays where she stands, “are everything I want. Everything I need.” Another step. “And I will do anything to be with you, anything to make this my story. I’ll bide my time, I’ll weigh my options, I’ll make every preparation, but one day…”

Another step. He’s back in front of her, and though she avoids his eyes, she’s not running, not putting distance back between them.

"Your highness…"

“My love,” he interrupts, offering her the depth and width of his affection, his voice low and ardent as he kneels before her, prostrating before the only person worthy of him. “My sweet, my… my everything. One day, I’ll find a way for us to be together.”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clans part 36! @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

Content warning!! Physical attack, restraint, cursing

SMACK!

April woke up to a solid, heavy thud. It took her a moment to recognize her own room; it was her first night staying in her house for almost three weeks. Every time her parents would go away on their business, the house would be too quiet for her to want to stay in it very long. But now the lair was just as quiet, and with her brothers gone, she didn't want to spend much time there either. It just made her sad. Her conflict with Splinter and Cassandra served to make things worse.

SMACK!

That sound came again, and this time her head snapped immediately to the window. Another impact, and another. A steady, drumming sound. April slid out of bed and into her slippers, slowly approaching the window and pulling back the darkened blinds. Surely the brothers couldn’t be back so soon?

April gave a shout and fell away as another projectile was launched at the window and smacked against it. Was that a rock? Quickly, she scrambled back over to the window and peered outside. Then she opened the window, just barely ducking her head in time to dodge another rock. She slowly peeked back over the windowsill and threw her arms open.

“What the hell Casey?!”

“Sorry!” Cassandra called back from the streets, “You opened the window!”

“No shit, Jones!” April snarled back, and then fell to a weak laugh. “What are you doing throwing rocks at my house at…” She checked the time, “Two in the morning?”

“Come down!” Sunita called up; she was in her human form, which hadn’t changed at all in the years April knew her. Skin a shade darker than April’s own, and hair of ink pulled tight again her scalp in braids.

“Not tonight, yall.” April leaned on her window sill and gave a tired smile.

“What?” Cassandra scoffed in an exaggerated fashion, “Why not?!”

“I have a headache.” Was April’s excuse; she didn't have one, but she certainly didn't feel good. She just couldn’t exactly pin point what part of her body it was that ached.

“I have ibuprofen!” Cassandra held up her purse.

“Good night, girls.” April closed the window.

***

“Well, that stinks.” Sunita put a hand on her hip as she turned to face the shorter Cassandra. “Should we knock again?”

Cassandra considered. She gave a smile that was undetectable due to her mask and cracked her fingers and neck. “I have a better idea~”

***

April was more than happy to enjoy the warm, weighted embrace of her comforter, hugging her childhood teddy bear to beckon sleep to return to her faster. With her injuries, this was shaping up to be the most boring summer of her life! But to be fair, the promise of a simple, normal summer of relaxation definitely appealed to her, no matter how far out of her reach she knew it was. A girl could always dream, right?

April’s body shuttered. It told her to open her eyes, and when she did it was like her worst nightmares came true, though for only a moment before her mind caught up with the fear in her heart and recognized the silhouettes standing over her like villains in the night.

“Casey? Sunita? What are you—?”

Cassandra grabbed April around her waist and hoisted the teen over her shoulder.

“Casey! Put me down!” April growled and kicked her legs, but Cassandra only laughed.

“Sunita— help me! Get her legs!” Cassandra howled, and Sunita hurried to restrain April’s legs while Cassandra supported her front, both of them holding April between them like a hammock. “You’re coming to girls night April!”

They started to carry April toward the open window. April’s initially startled screams slowly turned to laughter. She still struggled, but her actions were more playful than anything. They stopped at the window, though Cassandra had already climbed out of it.

“She ain’t got no shoes, get her shoes!” Cassandra laughed.

Sunita’s arm turned from human back to its slime form and extended out to grab April’s shoes and a pair of socks. Cassandra forced April’s feet still so Sunita could put her shoes on, and then they continued out the window and into the fire escape.

“Guys— I need a mask!” April laughed.

“Got one!” Cassandra reached into her purse and pulled out a blue mask, fixing it over April’s mouth and nose while still carrying her with one arm. Down the fire escape they went, and only when their feet had touched the ground did they put April down.

“Are you proud of yourselves?” April huffed, putting her hand on her hip.

“Very.” Cassandra smirked.

“You could at least have let me get dressed!” April laughed, “I can’t go out for girls night in my PJs!”

“Why not?” Sunita asked innocently.

“Cause It's not proper for a social setting!” April scoffed.

Sunita was quiet for a time before whispering, “Humans are so weird…”

“Oh yeah. Forgot you’re a slime dude.” Cassandra turned to face April, “You’ll be fine! It’s not like we’re going drinking! You’re not old enough; believe me, I’ve checked.”

“Then what are we doing?” April asked, genuine curiosity seeping into her voice.

***

The trio got close enough to see the mutant hippo known as Hypno Ron wandering the shadows of the streets; he didn't seem to have a care in the world as to being spotted. After all, he could always just Mesmer any human to forget! April wasn’t so keen on how reckless the mutant was being, but Cassandra locked on to the hippo almost immediately from the rooftops.

“Oh! Oh! I got this one!” Cassandra cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, it was in a heavy accent; her best attempt at mocking the way Hypno spoke. “Oh oh, deary me! I simply have to find a tiny suit for my tiny worm friend for our anniversary! How am I ever going to find one in time to enjoy tiny tea cakes and orange peels with the lovely Warren Stone?”

“Orange peels?” April scrunched up her nose.

“What? Worms taste with their body.” Cassandra shrugged.

“Oh! There’s one!” Sunita spotted the next mutant, Repo Mantis, buzzing around. She dropped her voice low and raspy. “Rrrrr. I just know there’s a birthday cake to repo ‘round here somewhere. That three-year old’s hiding well, but I’ll sniff em out with my sniffer.” Sunita made exaggerated sniffle motions that made April and Cassandra almost fall over laughing.

“This one’s mine!” April claimed a few buildings down when they spotted the mutant prairie dog wandering an alleyway, her nose twitching in the search for decent morsels. April didn't know her name, so she had to improvise, clearing her throat. “Can I dig here? Noooo this isn’t a good place for digging? Here? Maaaaybe not? Here? No. Man, none of these places are good for digging!”

Sunita and Cassandra were covering their mouths trying to keep their laughter to a minimum. The prairie dog seemed to hear them anyway, looking up from her curious search to twitch her ears in search of the noises.

The girls all ducked down low to hide from her sight, all covering their mouths and their snickers until the suspicions had died down. Then, at Cassandra’s command, all three of them peeked back over the edge and down at the mutant as she continued her work.

“Ohhhh the voices are back!” April carried on, this time in a lower whisper, “Hm? However will I pass the time? I know!” she cleared her throat and started to sing in her mock accent. “Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene! I’m begging of you please don’t take my man! Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeene! I’m singing this song just because I caaaaan!”

The prairie dog looked up again. “Did someone call me?”

That made the trio of girls fall apart laughing until their sides hurt and they felt like they might be sick if they laughed any harder. Through the next hour, they found more and more people to mock from afar, both mutants and humans, but after the hour had passed, April was starting to feel completely exhausted. The constant running and laughing made the soreness of her side ache even worse, and now her head really was hurting, and her stomach too.

“Sorry gals.” She told the two of her friends when she felt her body couldn’t hold out any longer. “Really gotta turn in for the night.”

“What?” Cassandra groaned, and Sunita seemed disappointed, “Come on! We still got two hours before the sun comes up!

“And I really should be spending it sleeping.” April sighed, “But I had a really good time! I’ll see you in the morning, girls?”

“Do you want us to walk you home?” Sunita asked softly.

“No, no, don’t trouble yourselves!” April waved her hand, “I know you two are having fun, and I can handle myself.”

“Are you sure?” Cassandra asked, “It’s no trouble…”

“It’s fine! I grew up with the turtles, I can handle myself!”

“If you say so…”

“I’ll be fine. Really.” April tried to reassure.

“At least take my knife.” Cassandra said, giving the long blade over to April, “I feel bad for abducting you without your bat.”

“You don’t have to do that.” April said.

“I want to!” Cassandra beamed. “Besides, I’ll just come back and get it in the morning! No big whoop.”

“Well then… thank you.” April turned the knife over in her hands a few times. “I promise I’ll give it back.”

April found where she was by checking the nearest street signs. She wasn’t more than a few blocks from home. The streets would be far easier to traverse than the buildings; as much as she had trained with the brothers, she never did quite get the hang of building jumping. That’s why Donatello had his special seat in his armor just for her! Thinking of Donatello, April felt a sudden sadness wash over her. She missed his sarcastic voice, his dramatic flare, his simple presence!

When she was out of view of Cassandra and Sunita, the first thing April did was let herself finally release the bile that had been churning her stomach for the past ten minutes, and she felt a lot better when the vomit was outside instead of in. Then she started to cry immediately after, but she didn't know why. She missed Donatello, sure, but enough to cry? And though her head hurt it wasn’t the agonizing, ripping headaches that usually plagued her, so it wasn’t the pain. Maybe it was just a bit of everything mixed into one, and that was why she felt so… not good. She wanted to feel better, and maybe crying could help that! It wasn’t like she could stop now. Once the tears started to fall, they just got heavier.

The tears fell hard as April entered a shortcut alley. Then she stopped when she saw a man at the other end; a man that looked to be just minding his own business, leaned up against a wall drinking from something within a paper bag. She already had a hunch of what it could be, and she certainly didn't want to cross his path. Not when there was a longer, but safer, path she could take instead. Gripping the knife in her pocket, April started to back away; it was preferable to turning her back on the man. At least, that’s what she thought before she collided with a bigger, heavier weight.

April tried to turn around. Powerful arms wrapped around her, one around her chest holding her in a grip so tight she thought her ribs might break, and another holding a cloth to her mouth. She held her breath for as long as she could, kicking out and trying repeatedly to strike the mans legs and groin, but all she met was muscle and what must have been an athletic cup protecting him. Figures! Just her luck!

When April could hold her breath no longer, she squeezed her eyes shut as the acrid fumes overwhelmed her, followed quickly by darkness.

[flutteringphalanges]

                           Caught in a Riptide

Summary: After the infamous Count Dracula is discovered and taken into custody by the Jonathan Harker Foundation, former nun and now guardian to her young niece, Zoe, Agatha Van Helsing is tasked with keeping tabs on the vampire after a mishap leads to his release into modern day society. Can Agatha remain levelheaded, or will fate turn her onto a new path?

Pairing: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rated: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Hooray! Two story updates in one week! I guess this Spring Break is proving to be writing productive! Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Feedback is greatly appreciated and fuels the writing mind! Thank you guys so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter! -Jen

                                            Chapter Eleven

Agatha wasn’t quite sure how long she stood in the doorway with her mouth ajar. A second perhaps? A few minutes? Hell, possibly a millennium? But the only comparison to this moment she could make was waking up from a dream and going straight into a nightmare. Her eyes wander around the room as she noted how every window in sight was plastered over with discarded newspapers and pieces of cardboard--some with scribbled drawings she could only attribute to being Zoe’s. The rat bastard had blocked the sunlight getting in. 

“Living room now!” She hissed, Dracula’s cheeky grin only causing the flames of fury to burn hotter within her. “Now!” 

Part of her felt as if she needed to grab him by the ear and drag him in there himself as the vampire purposely took his time to follow her out of Zoe’s earshot. Once they were alone, the former nun whipped around to face him. 

“Why the hell are you still here?!” She growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Not only are you not welcome, but you have overstayed at that!” Agatha motioned around her. “And you’ve desecrated my house!”

“First, I would like to say that I am rather disappointed in you.” Dracula smirked. “I had originally thought your intentions to be alone with me were for more...intimate reasons.” He didn’t even blink when Agatha slapped him hard across the face. “Clearly you should’ve had your breakfast before we had this talk. You’re simply...well, what’s the term the adolescence use nowadays?” The Count’s devilish grin only widened. “Hangery?” 

Agatha sucked in a sharp breath. “I...you…” Her fists clenched so tightly the circulation to her fingers was on the verge of being cut off. “If Zoe wasn’t in the other room, I would rip your stupid sun protection off my windows and watch you die a long, painful death. But I don’t feel like scarring a little girl!”

Dracula chuckled, his smile lopsided as he watched the woman fuming before his very eyes. He’d expected her to be upset, sure, but this...this was true gold. Agatha ground her teeth together, arms now folded over her chest as she continued to scowl darkly at him. 

“You do know if you kill me…” He paused. “And I know you very, very much want to. It would certainly be a breach of contract.” Dracula feigned a long exhale, looking towards the direction of the door. “Perhaps I’ll stay until nightfall. It isn’t as if I have much of a choice.” The Count shrugged, his false sense of apology quite evident to Agatha. “A true pity really. But it can’t be helped, now can it?” 

Over a hundred ways to slaughter Count Dracula began to manifest in Agatha’s mind. Yet he was right. Until nightfall, he couldn’t exactly leave without consequences no matter how much she’d like him to burn. Literally. Nostrils flared, her brows knitted together as she tried her best to ignore his obnoxious grin. 

“You may be forced to stay here.” She spat, not hiding the disgust in her tone. “But Zoe and I certainly don’t have to.” Agatha looked over her shoulder and called out towards the kitchen. “Zoe, go get dressed and put on your shoes, we’re leaving.” 

“Is Mr. Dracula coming too?” Zoe replied loudly, sounding hopeful.

“No.” Her aunt answered flatly, glaring at the Count. “Mr. Dracula is staying behind.” Still looking at Dracula incredulous, Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to go change now. Follow me, and you’ll regret it.” 

The vampire held up his hands. “Relax, Agatha. I assure you I can manage holding back my temptations to repeat last night’s...experience for another time. Feel free to go get dressed, I can bask in the memories…” He paused, his ever present smirk broadening. “For now.” 

Agatha said nothing as she shoved past the vampire, trying to block out his laughing as she stormed into her room. While her body craved a nice, hot shower, her mind convinced her the best option was just to throw on some clothes and leave with Zoe before she went completely berserk. Wearing an old, long sleeved shirt and some worn pants, she stepped out into the hallway to find her niece waiting there patiently. 

“You do realize you are wearing two different colored socks.” She noted, eyeing the little girl with a sigh. “And that shirt has a stain on it.” 

“So?” Zoe shrugged. “I like it that way.”

Agatha exhaled, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.” Taking Zoe by her hand, she walked briskly towards the front door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dracula standing back in the shadows. When he waved, she did not return the favor. “You better be gone when we return.” She growled, tugging on her niece’s hand. “C’mon, Zoe. We’re leaving.” 

“Where are we going?” The child asked, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the vampire. “Not somewhere boring, right?”

“To the park.” Agatha said, grabbing their windbreakers from the rack. “And then...maybe some ice cream, I don’t know. We’re just going.” 

“Hooray!” Zoe squealed, sounding far more excited about their sudden departure. “Goodbye, Mr. Dracula! See you soon!”

“Oh, I very much count on that, dear Zoe.” The vampire smiled. “Your aunt and I have some unfinished business.” 

When the little girl’s attention was preoccupied, Agatha flipped the Count off before opening the front door and slamming it behind them. Once they were outside, the former nun’s grip loosened around her niece’s hand. Zoe hummed to herself as Agatha fished around in her purse to retrieve her phone. Unlocking it, she scrolled down through her contacts before clicking on the one she desired. 

“Hello, Jack?” Agatha spoke, letting out a long breath when she heard the other end connect. “Can you meet me at Pannett Park?” She looked over her shoulder, holding the cell close to her ear. “It’s important.” 

                                                        XXX

Despite it being early in the morning, the park was decently packed by the time Agatha pulled up into the parking lot. She scanned the lot, looking for an empty parking space. Zoe had already unfastened her belt, against her aunt’s orders, and had taken to leaning over the side of the driver’s seat with the intention of helping out. 

“Zoe, sit back down.” Agatha instructed, trying to focus on the road and not her loose niece. “The car hasn’t stopped yet.” 

“I’m trying to help you.” The girl replied, frowning softly as she peered around. “What if we can never find a space?” She let out an exaggerated sigh and collapsed against her seat. “We’ve been driving for forever!” 

“Patience is a virtue.” But even Agatha’s tone was strained. “We’ll find one.” 

Zoe let out a huff and crossed her arms in annoyance. After circling the parking lot twice, Agatha finally managed to find a spot. It was right in the sun, of course, but it would work. Turning the car off, she barely had a moment to step out before her niece leaped from the back seat and out onto the grass.

“Zoe, stay where I can see you!” The former nun called out as the girl bounded towards the playground. “Don’t go too far!” 

But she was already out of earshot, her laughter becoming more distant the further she went. Shaking her head, Agatha walked over to an empty bench and sat down. Pulling out her phone once more, she unlocked the screen and located Jack’s number. 

“We made it. Good luck finding parking, the place is packed.” -Agatha

A few minutes passed by before her cell began to vibrate. 

“Sorry, couldn’t text and drive. But you’re right, you’d think there was some event going on. I ended up parking across the street. Where are you?” -Jack

“On a bench by…” Agatha paused her typing, glancing around for a landmark. Not too far off from where she sat was a large sign dictating the rules that all park pedestrians were instructed to follow. “...by a big brown sign closest to the swing set. Can’t miss it.” -Agatha

“Great, I’ll be right over then.” -Jack

Leaning back against the bench, Agatha stared out towards the playground. Zoe seemed to have found a group of children to play with. Her eyes followed them as they ran back and forth in what she assumed was a game of tag. She tried to suppress the thoughts of what occurred last night in her head. His face. His body. The way he made her feel. How she and Dracula had done deeds that would send Mother Superior to an early grave. A shiver ran down her spine at each thought. Memories that she felt conflicted about. The former nun was so focused on trying not to think that she failed to notice Jack taking a seat beside her. 

“Hey, you feeling okay?” 

Agatha jumped in surprise, turning her head so quickly to face him that she pulled a muscle in her neck. Wincing, she rubbed at the spot and let out a grunt. Just another thing to add on to the ever growing stack of problems she was facing. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” It was a lie and even she couldn’t hide it from her tone. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” 

“Of course.” Jack smiled, his expression soft. “Gave me an excuse to get out of the house.” He inhaled, relaxing a little. “So what is so important that we needed to meet across town in a park to talk about?” 

Agatha averted her eyes, unable to meet his. “Something happened and I needed to talk to someone who I could trust.” She paused, her mouth suddenly becoming dry. “A secret rather...big.” 

“Oh?” Jack inquired, beginning to sound concern. “What kind of secret?” 

Agatha picked at one of her cuticles absentmindedly, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. Her eyes focused on Zoe as the young girl when zipping down the long, curling slide on the playground. She knew Jack was staring at her intently, waiting to hear why exactly she had summoned him here of all place. And though, try as she might, she couldn’t yet muster up the courage to meet his gaze. Especially when it came to what was about to come next. 

“Dracula paid me an unexpected visit last night.” She said in a low, almost inaudible voice. “Or rather, showed up inside my house uninvited…by me at least.” 

“What?!” The alarm in the man’s tone was almost humorous. Certainly his next emotions would far surpass those when he learned more. “Are you okay? Is Zoe? Does Dr. Bloxham…” 

“We’re fine, and no…” Agatha answered, a small twinge of pain coming from the corner of her nail bed. “And that isn’t exactly why I called you here to meet me. Something else happened…” Drawing in a breath, she finally found it in her to turn and meet the young doctor’s eyes. “I had sex with Count Dracula.”

There was a long pause before Jack’s face contorted into an alarmed expression. “You’re joking.” But when Agatha failed to reply, his eyes grew wide. “You’re not joking?! Agatha, what...what were you thinking?!”

“Shh!” She hissed softly, glancing around her as if half expecting to see Bloxham pop out from between the bushes. “Keep your voice down. I said it was a secret for a reason!” 

“I can’t believe you would...did he force himself upon...what the hell were you thinking, Agatha?!” Jack stumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Why…” 

“It was consensual.” It was no use trying to hide the embarrassment in her voice. “And I don’t know what I was thinking. One minute we were fighting and the next...and the next…” She shook her head, frowning deeply. “It was a mistake, okay? A dreadful, horrible mistake that I can’t take back.” 

The young doctor shook his head. “...Did he bite you or anything?” A look of horror crossed his features. “You aren’t going to become a vampire now, are you?” 

The former nun rolled her eyes. “Last time I checked, having sexual intercourse with a vampire doesn’t lead to one, well, becoming a vampire.” Sighing heavily, Agatha slumped against the seat. “What am I going to do, Jack?”

“You want my honest answer?” Her fellow colleague asked. 

Agatha nodded. “Yes!”

“Well, I have none.” Jack replied sheepishly. “I’m not sure what to tell you other than Bloxham can’t ever hear about this. If she knew...it wouldn’t be good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You have no choice but to continue to work with him. Think you can act like it never happened?” 

“I'm quite certain he’ll likely make sure that I’ll never forget that it actually happened.” Agatha grumbled. “But maybe I can figure out a way to keep his hideous, fanged mouth shut.” She turned her attention to the playground, making sure that Zoe was still in sight. “She likes him, you know.” 

“Who?” Jack asked. “Bloxham?!” 

“No.” Agatha scoffed. “Zoe. She’s the reason he keeps getting into my bloody house! She’s befriended him. Or he’s using her...manipulating her...what difference does it make?” A small smile crept across her features. “She’s a Van Helsing. Being fearless in the face of the undead runs in her blood. Which, I suppose, has its advantages and disadvantages.” 

“Like inviting a vampire into your house.” Jack answered. 

“Exactly.” Agatha exhaled. “Like inviting a bloody vampire into my damn house.” 

“She means well.” Jack added, his attention now on Zoe as she proceeded to swing across the monkey bars. “She’s a good kid, even to those who don’t deserve her kindness. Despite everything she’s been through. I couldn’t do it.” 

“I know.” The former nun agreed. “That’s why I worry…” 

Before Jack had a chance to reply, Agatha’s phone began to ring. Frowning softly, she pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. Dr. Bloxham. Meeting Jack’s eyes, she unlocked the screen and answered. 

“Hello? Agatha Van Helsing speaking.” 

“Yes, good morning, Agatha.” Bloxham replied in a flat voice. “I hope I’m not pulling you away from anything important, but I need you to come to the Foundation at your earliest convenience. There is something that needs to be discussed and it cannot wait.” 

“What does she want?” Jack whispered softly. 

“I don’t know.” Agatha muttered, covering the speaker. “But it doesn’t sound good.” 

“Jack! Jack!”

Agatha and Jack both turned their heads to see Zoe hurrying over with a wide grin spread across her face. She immediately flung her arms around the young man, peering up at him with bright eyes. 

“Come push me on the swing?” She begged. “Please?!” 

“Let me watch her.” Jack offered, patting the young girl on the back. “I’ll take her back to my place and you can pick her up when you are done. Really, it’s no trouble.” 

“Agatha? Agatha, are you still there?” 

The former nun held her phone towards her ear. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m still here.” She glanced over at Jack who gave her an encouraging thumbs up. “And I’ll be there shortly.” Agatha ended the call and exhaled. “Thank you, Jack. You are truly a saint.”

“Quite a compliment coming from a nun.” The young doctor chuckled. 

“Former nun.” She corrected, smiling as she turned her attention to Zoe. “Monkey, I have to go into work for a little bit. You're going to hang out with Jack at his house. I want you to be on your best behavior, okay? Hopefully I won’t be gone for very long.”

“I promise, Aunt Aggie!” Zoe saluted before tugging on Jack’s arm. “Can we go swing now?” “I owe you big time.” Agatha chuckled, standing up from the bench. “I’ll keep you posted.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “Just worry about yourself...or don’t stress...you get the idea.” 

She tried to force a smile as she leaned down and kissed the top of Zoe’s head. Giving one final wave, she turned on her heels and began making her way to the parking lot. Worrying. That was better said than done. A whirlwind of endless possibilities, mostly bad ones, of why Bloxham needed her now began to swirl in her mind. Swallowing hard, Agatha unlocked her car and got into the front seat. It was only the morning and today was already proving to be very, very long. 

                                                 XXX

Unlike the park, the parking lot at the Foundation was nearly empty. Agatha tried to focus on her breathing as she fished around to find her badge. Bloxham couldn’t possibly know about what happened between her and Dracula last night. Could she? Inhaling deeply, she made her way into the building that seemed far larger than usual. 

“Ah, Zoe, so glad you could make it on such short notice.”

Bloxham sounded surprisingly friendly as Agatha approached her boss, something that felt very unsettling. Feigning a smile, she nodded in agreement as the woman motioned for her to follow. Their heels clacked against the tiled floor as they made their way into Bloxham’s office. 

“I apologize for pulling you away from whatever it is that you were doing. But I wanted you to meet someone important.” The corners of Bloxham’s lips twitched into a grin that would curdle milk. “Someone I think who just might help us with dealing with Count Dracula.”

As she opened her office door, Agatha’s eyes fell upon a tall man. His blond hair, though thick, was greying at the sides and the look in his brown eyes was cold. When he became face to face with the former nun, he gave a small nod in greeting.

“Ms. Agatha Van Helsing.” He greeted, extending his hand. “It’s a true pleasure to finally meet you.” Bloxham joined his side and suddenly Agatha began to feel claustrophobic. “You might not know me by name, but my ancestors were responsible for founding this over a century ago.” A small smile crept across his features. “My name is Howard Murray, the true descendant of Mina Murray herself. And I would like to lend my hand in personally assisting you and the others with Count Dracula.” 

[wwwafflewrites]

A Rewrite of History

Chapter 11—Bugs (Part 2)

The Winchesters had been generous compared to this guy. If you had been cramped before, this was suffocating. You were in the passenger seat, with a gag pulling tight on your lips.

To even consider fighting against him was a joke.

Your nose flared as you breathed heavily—as it was taking all your focus not to puke all over yourself and the van (considering you had a gag in your mouth—gross). 

You grimaced, tteeth grinding against the wet rag. Your headache was killer, and even though this was supposed to be a traumatizing event, you could feel yourself on the verge of passing out. 

You sure put the nap in 'kidnapped'.

The Winchesters had probably found your little crime scene already. They both were as quick as a whip, so it wouldn't be long until they figured it all out and came for you. That is, if you were important enough to look for.

You'd like to believe you were a little more valuable than a map to find John, now. You had planted your little hints—little bits of the future for them to digest. That had to be enough to intrigue anyone. Especially the Winchesters.

It would be stupid on their end to just let you go.

The van lurched to a stop and you threw your eyes open, not even realizing they'd drifted shut.

You were so tired.

Your vision was fuzzy and it hurt your head to squint into the night. You were miserable. But you watched as the demon left, and you did a double take as he walked over to a familiar vehicle, instead.

That's my car.

It was enough to get you to press your face closer to the window. A figure emerged from behind the car. 

Meg.

You watched, dumbfounded, as she approached the demon. Didn’t she first appear in Scarecrow? That was at least a few episodes away.

You tensed as she pointed in your direction. The other demon nodded, approaching the van again.

What are they saying about me? 

When he threw open the car door, you fell with it, falling down onto the gravel without any way to break your fall.

“Well,” Meg scoffed, kicking at you, "this is disappointing. This is supposed to be 'the one'? She’s a twig.”

Other Demon™ wrenched you upward—seriously, could we please stop with all the sudden movements?—and ripped the gag from your mouth. It left a line of saliva down your chin, but you were too miserable to care. 

You snorted. “Angels tell you that? Because they never lie.”

Other threw your back into the van, and your vision grayed out.

Shit.

You blacked out—only long enough for your knees to buckle, and for you to choke under Other's iron hold—and then you were back. You were barely able to shuffle back on your feet, sputtering.

The ringing in your ears was gradually drowned out by a buzzing, and everyone paused. 

“You,” you coughed wetly, “hear that too?”

Everyone turned to watch as a great swarm blocked out the moon and stars, and you barely had enough conscience to feel fear.

Bugs.

You slid down the side of the van, alone.

Light swam over the area. The buzzing faded.

Was it them?

Shouting. Shouting and light.

Had they come for you?

You felt your eyelids flutter.

You shuddered, sobbing into the dirt when you couldn’t move.

Your panic attack still crushed your lungs as you were forcefully shaken, and, terrified, you gawked into the green eyes of a cross Dean Winchester.

You tried to push him away, but he just pinned you down, scowling and shouting some more.

“—drove—?”

"—what else—?—is there—"

“—her—all we know—”

"—did you—left—should have—"

They were talking about you, but you couldn’t give a damn.

You were so so tired.

"—concuss—"

"—don't let—"

"—know!"

"—dead?"

"—!—"

Without warning, the light around you brightened to become one blindingly white abyss. When you blinked, Dean's face was all but gone, replaced by Castiel.

"Where am I?" you asked. There was no pain. Where had your pain gone?

"Heaven," he said. He left you no time for questions before his hand reached up, caressing—

You woke abruptly to a hard slap on your face.

You gasped—you could breathe!—and your eyes shot open. 

Your headache had melted away, your aches were no more, and the rings of torn flesh around your wrists were gone, as well as your handcuffs.

You were healed.

You blinked, feeling weirdly refreshed as you looked past Dean, as if to catch a glimpse of Castiel behind him. But there was nothing. Meg was gone. Other was gone. There was just a wash of light over gravel where they had all been.

“Whatcha' looking at?”

You looked him dead in the eyes and answered, “A bitch.”

Dean frowned. “Funny,” he said, wrenching you up by the arm and pulling you away from the van. “Thought you were dead for a good minute there." 

“Not dead,” you replied, "but that was horrible."

“I don’t know, it looked like fun.”

You rolled your eyes. Asshole.

Dean still had you by the arm, pulling you toward Sam, who emerged from behind your car.

"Entire car was invested," said Sam as he approached, your bag in his hands. "Got us some weapons, though."

Sam dropped the bag and out rolled the jar of peanut butter and your loaf of bread, which was crawling with bugs.

The last of my food.

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Peanut butter and bread? You live like this?" He kicked the bag away like it was repulsive.

Well, screw you too, Dean.

"Also…" Sam trailed off as he grabbed a weapon. The angel blade. "What is this?"

"It's a knife," you said innocently.

Sam's expression pinched. "Yeah, I can see that," he said. "I mean, what does it do? What is it made of? And can it kill you?"

How ironic, considering you'd died a minute ago (or… you were pretty sure, anyway). It clearly didn't take much to kill you, and that blade wouldn't be an exception.

But they didn't need to know that.

"We could always just see for ourselves." Dean shrugged when you didn't reply.

You snapped at him, "If you wanted to, you'd have done it already. You need me alive." Man, you were beginning to sound like the typical monster. That was depressing. "And it's just a fancy knife. I stole it, okay?"

"You stole our gun too," Sam said as he pulled out their gun from your backpack. "And our dad's journal. You’re quite the thief."

You scoffed. "You're one to talk, Mr.CreditCardFraud. You both love to judge me for everything you guys do daily."

Sam's expression hardened. "Oh, right, because we kill innocents and work with demons."

You gaped at him. "Are you kidding me? You thought that entire kidnapping was me working with them?!" You were on the verge of hysteria. "And I'm sure you thought all those restraints were just funhousing, right? Good times with my demonic pals?"

"Not sure what you're talking about."

You frowned. "I mean just now. Big, burly guy? Ring any bells?" You didn't feel like mentioning Meg.

"Uh… no. Nobody was here but you."

You blinked.

What.

You glanced between the two of them. “But… there was sulfur left behind, wasn’t there?”

“Doesn’t mean anything," Dean denied.

"Because you think I'm a demon. Then why haven't you tested me with holy water yet?"

"We did. Earlier. When I knocked you out. But just because it didn't burn you, doesn't mean you're not something else."

"Either I left the sulfur, or I didn't. You can't simultaneously believe I'm a demon and something else," you said, exasperated.

"Watch me."

"The van, then. The demon drove the van.”

"You hotwired it," he said easily. "See, you left a ton of blood behind—definitely enough to kill a person, mind you. When we found you, you still had blood pooling out of your stomach. And then, magically, you healed. Not a scratch on you."

Blood pooling from your..? What were they talking about? He was exaggerating, probably.

You could see where he was going. And it wasn't helping your case. "Do a blood test, then. That blood on the sidewalk won’t match with mine."

Dean leaned back, tilting his head in consideration before nodding to Sam. "Fine." 

Sam reached over, slammed the handcuffs back on your wrists, and lifted you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Kinky," you wheezed.

Sam ignored you.

You couldn’t deny that you kinda had a good view of that booty though… and his toned back and broad shoulders.

Not the time, brain. Shut up. 

Sam threw you in the Impala, and it was deja vu. Back at square one.

Slumping into the seat, you took some time to reflect.

Had you hallucinated Meg and Other?

No, you couldn't have. How else could you explain finding your car? How else could you explain the hallucinations, other than from the brain damage you got from Other repeatedly bashing your poor head on walls and sidewalks?

Your memories were a garbled mess. Like a dream confused with reality.

Then there was the whole heaven thing. Had he interfered? Was the light—instead of headlights—actually Heaven saving you? You lingered on the idea. That meant Castiel was looking out for you, at least.

There were so many things you couldn't explain yourself, much less to the Winchesters.

And Sam… Sam was going to be a hassle.

Older Sam would have tried to understand you by now. He was more level-headed. Monsters weren't all black and white in his eyes—mostly because he knew what being the monster was like.

But this Sam? He was so freaking young. Naive, grieving, and angry. Not to mention, he blamed you for the death of his girlfriend, which was setting him back on his ability to empathize with you. He absolutely hated you.

After all, instead of evidence to prove your innocence, the Winchesters instead kept finding the complete opposite. Every good deed you did was tainted by either the heaven's bloodthirsty intervention, or just your own naiveté. 

Your guilt was climbing so high that you were beginning to agree with the Winchesters. You were the monster—I mean, look at all the times I'd screwed up!

Your presence was killing people. Whether it was your intention or not.

You sighed.

Sam was twirling the angel blade in the car, getting a feel for the weapon. He said, “You know, when I said you were 'working with demons', I actually meant the one from a few weeks ago—the Bloody Mary case."

"You mean the demon I killed? Because that totally sounds like I was scheming with demons.”

Sam paused. "You killed it with this knife, right?"

You went quiet. Damn.

He twirled it again. "Thought so. So it is more than a 'fancy knife'. Makes me wonder what else you're lying about."

"As if you wouldn't be lying your head off if you were in my position. I forgot how honest you two are." You snorted. "You two have no problem lying to each other. Like, seriously? Dean, you lied to Sam about the demon knowing about Jessica's death. On your, what, fourth hunt with him since he'd gone to college?"

Hypocrites. Both of them.

The statement made Sam squint. "How the hell would you ever know?"

"Uh, I was with you? On the plane?" Anxiety pooled in your stomach.

"No, you vanished into thin air before that conversation ever happened," Dean accused. "Another reason to believe you aren't human."

"I have my sources." Sources. Right. What sources?

"And what the hell are your sources?"

Supernatural, you wanted to say, the television show that ruined my life. But how could you tell them that?

You couldn't tell them you were a demon, either. Not only because you weren't—but that would just spell out a whole lot of trouble for you. Not to mention they now possessed your angel blade.

And you most definitely couldn't tell them the truth.

So you did the insane.

"I'm psychic."

///

Tags: @megamindsdespondentcousin​ @depressedunicorn43​ , @rosaren2498​ , @pillowjj​ , @busy-bee-angel-misska​ , @elliotts-world​ , @dagnylokisdottir​ , @omg-we-really-doo​ , @millieccino​ , @regainedworld , @badgal-jackie​ , @postcardsfromliterallynowhere​ , @super-calithehamm​ , @teresa-67​ , @ofthedewthesunlight​ , @dream-believe-and-love​ 

[sundancetarot]

“Red Lights and a Suit” Kirishima x ENBY Reader // SFW COMFORT FIC

Hey Guys!! This is my first fic- I quite literally wrote it for my partner but if you want some of that comfort Kiri love, THEN COME GET YA’LL JUICE LMAOO

Description: After recieving news at school pertaining to a school dance, Kiri helps lift your spirits.

Pairing: Non-Binary reader x Eijiro Kirishima

Word Count: 2279

Includes: Loving relationship, affection, pet names, hugs, and appreciation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Hesitantly, you grab a shaken Eiji as he steers your blind eye somewhere you've never experienced but, it feels familiar... somehow, but how? Two steps turned into four, four into six, six into nine, and so on.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You want to see wants behind these hands but your brain is having trouble communicating with your bones. You're not nervous but... envious, in ways. Finally, after your self-to-self speech, your hands lower to come in contact with a foggy image of-

{BEEEEEP}

"SHIT-" That was all that could leave your lips... well, there was also FUCK, DAMN, ASS, and your personal "I've been awakened into a frightened state" favorite- CUNT!

You turn over to your phone to finally shut off the constant ringing of your most recent anime binge watch's opening credits song- not your favorite- your most recent.

After, the all too familiar urge of procrastination, you finally manage to shut off the CORRECT alarm this time. Even so, shutting off an alarm has never had many benefits besides reducing the antagonizing screech of above the volume music... however, until now, you have never been greeted by a sleeping Kirishima on your screen behind the alarm window.

That's right... we fell asleep on Facetime together.

You're not surprised that eventually, you'd have these moments- you find the idea of him next to you somewhat comforting.

His blood red-like hair falling onto his pillow has always been a pretty sight to you. His pointed teeth exposed to you, no one knows what he dreams, as he tends to forget but- the way he smiles, even in sleep... No, especially in his sleep, is behind adorable.

You could see from the angle of the phone he had his red LED lights on the highest setting, (typical, was your immediate thought), he has self-drawn art of him in his Red Riot costume with "MANLY" written in comically large lettering under, above, or to the sides of each portrait, this is too cute.

Eiji mentioned last night that he sleeps without a shirt on, he decided to give you this information the moment you started to dose off. Fortunately, waking up before him grants you the pleasure of finally witnessing his rock-hard exterior (I'm so sorry.).

{BEEEEEEEEEP}

"CUNT-" told you. Once again you mistake snooze for the off option. You pick your phone up off the carpet, after launching it several feet in the air. Luckily, your side of the facetime's audio is off and Eiji didn't hear the exaggerated explosion of sounds.

Picking your phone up off the ground which was disconnected from your charger immediately, makes your gut sink deep into your ass, your brain catches up to what you're seeing and pushes your body to practically fly into the bathroom seeing as you only have 40 minutes to get ready now.

That seems like plenty of time if you would have actually showered the night before. Rushing back into your room for your towel, you place Kiri on the sink's counter.

Starting up the shower was a difficult task when you're removing your clothes at the same time, you eventually set it to the right temperature and successfully remove your oversized hoodie with boxer briefs underneath with ease.

After washing your body, you manage to carefully launch yourself back into your room to moisturize and get dressed- you place Kiri on your dresser with a view of you after putting on your underwear.

"Well- aren't you glowing Bubbles?". That humbled cockiness in a person's tone can only come from one person and only this person can make you jump out of your skin in excitement. You turn to face him putting on his shirt because, unlike you, he takes a shower the night before to avoid a rush.

"fuc- don't scare me like that Red!". You definitely miscalculated the emotion there because that was NOT fear, it was a sentiment of emotions on how what he said made you feel inside. Nearly dropping to your knees you tighten up your composure and continue with your routine.

"Sorry babes, you do look unbelievable this morning though." Blushing was definitely out of the question, ain't nothing burning through that melanin babes. Instead, your stomach burns in butterflies as you muster up the words...

"You missed a button on your shirt, Red.". Cool, that was cool.

No, it wasn't.

You can see he wants to make another remark but you notice the new arrangement of numbers on your clock.

[7:27 AM]

Eiji notices your expressions and the faster tempo in your steps as you go from rushing to being quicker than the speed of light. As you reach the door you hear Kiri clear his throat in a way to tell you about the one thing you forgot... HIM! Nearly, slipping under your bed you grab your phone in one swift motion and bolt downstairs.

You don't have time to eat the breakfast your parents teamed up to make so you grab toast and a Capri Sun, hug your parents, pet Rubble; your St. Benard, and bolt for the door.

You hear Kiri's radio in his car blare indistinctive lyrics from his favorite genre "Rock-N-Roll" (I'm so sorry.). You finally start to make your way to school where you pass the place you and Kiri had your first date.

As you ponder the thought of the first time you ever saw him cry, the moment you saw him smile, and the day he said he's his happiest with you casts an unbreakable spell around you. A spell you would never want an antidote for.

After a handful of minutes, you pull into the parking lot across the street from the UA entrance and began the new day. You walk past your classmates greeted with the usual "Hey, Y/N!". From Shoji, "HEY KISSES!". From the always bubbly Uraraka, "Alright boo, heyyy- AH, mwah!" from your favorite person in this school (besides Red of course) Mina.

Speaking of favorite people...

"Guess who?" A pair of hands appear over your eyes and an obviously forced high pitched voice lets you know exactly who it is.

"Hmm... Koda!"

"YE- wait, huh?" Kiri stands there confused arms unraveled from you. You turn with a gigantic smirk plastered across your face, eyes slanted, with defined smile lines signifying your humorous poke at him.

"Oh- haha, laugh out loud- super manly of you." You can hear his sarcasm bursting through his lips. You quickly place your arms around his waist giving him the tightest squeeze letting him know without words how much you miss him. Almost as if without any effort, he grabs you and lifts you into the air, wrapping your legs around him you give him an even tighter hug.

This day, like most, was pretty uneventful so, you zone out... as usual. When you finally come to, you find yourself wrapped around Ojiro's tail, who doesn't mind the immense affection. After your third class period, you meet up with your friends in the cafeteria.

Like any other day, you offer to pay for Uraraka who happily accepts; even when she has enough for a meal you still insist. I mean- why not? Kiri always has your bill.

[2:38 PM]

We finally reach last period and the class president Tenya, announces the school's annual Sadie Hawkins dance. [Brief Sadie Hawkins dance explanation: A dance in a tradition where the girl asks the boy out.]

"Well- what are Y/N and Eijiro going to do?" huh.

"How is Y/N going to ask out Eijiro- they're not a girl therefore how will they find a date to go?" Stupidity graced this one early but, embarrassment graced you immediately.

You couldn't form your words properly to explain or defend, you could only leave. Eiji tries to come after you but you signal him to stay there.

"You're such a douche you know that, right?" Kiri says dropping his almost permanent grin.

"LANGUAGE!" Iida screeches while flapping his limbs completely missing his faults.

[8:13 PM]

You sit in your room foolishly stumped by Iida's uncalled for questions. It doesn't make sense, honestly, you would never let Iida's "no thoughts, just speak" way of speech get to you.

You pause your binge of "Criminal Minds" to go down to the kitchen for a quick snack when you see a bright flare of red pass by your kitchen window wrapping around to the front of your house.

Your immediate thought is that this must be a police car making its way to a crime scene- being a hero in training gave you the instinct of potential bad around every corner. So, this was not a threat nor surprise to you.

{My Red Riot❤️ one (1) new message}

You were wondering where he's been all day. You haven't spoken to him all day, you even tried texting him, and you were left on read by red (I'm sorry once again.) with no response. You are curious as to what he has to say though.

{My Red Riot❤️ : Come outside.}

I won't say I'm nervous but I am definitely confused. I make my way to the front door and take a deep breath while turning the knob...

"Hey, Bubbles." standing there in a grey suit with a red tie, red handkerchief in the left chest pocket, maroon shoes accompanied by burgundy calf socks, and a rose pinned to his suit to top it all off next to his Jeep Wrangler with modified red headlights was your Red Riot.

"We don't need a school dance to strengthen our relationship when we have each other to look at and each other to embrace- I promise to never have this become a rocky relationship..."

You chuckle at the very thought-provoking joke. "... I love you Bubbles." How could anyone be so lucky? You can feel the tears forming already as he walks towards you.

Lifting your chin up to face him he asks you one question...

"Can I kiss you?". You meet his eyes, you feel equal.

"Yes- Of course, you can Red...". He lifts your face up higher and your lips meet he has just confirmed that you are equal- more than partners, but lovers.

You don't know where to put your arms, what to think, or what to feel but it doesn't matter. You feel safe, you feel protected, you are loved.

You pull apart from each other for a moment before getting another quick peck before a grin paints his face, it resembles The Cheshire Cat's smug grin. You don't know whether to be comforted or genuinely terrified by the devilish stare.

"Well- aren't ya gonna get dressed?"

"For?". What has he planned?

"For our Sadie Hawkins- Bubbles, DUH!"

"Oh- I mean, um, YES; of course! Our Sadie Hawkins!". You don't know what he's talking about but, You trust what he does. You rush back inside to my room... time to do the damn thing.

After a while of searching for combinations, You walked out the front door in a black turtleneck, burgundy blazer with black buttons and lining, matching dress pants, and black Doc Martens for footwear to a stunned Kiri.

"Wow- you look... stunning, Y/N." You haven't heard him say my name since we started dating, it's such a genuine feeling. Kiri pauses and rushes back to the car, in a hurry he returns with a small box... this isn't a- right?

Kiri falls to his knee and lifts up the box to a petunia corsage that he slides onto your wrist, completing your look. He picks you up and carries you towards the car door where he reaches out his right arm to open it and places you inside with his left.

The car ride is smooth, no bums in the road and if there were you didn't notice- you could only pay attention to Kiri's presence. You feel a breeze sweep your hand and look down to Red's hand comfortably resting on yours.

He's warm and his hand is incredibly soft definitely the opposite of his Unbreakable form. Being with him in this car feels almost sheltering to you, like a second home of love.

While you were off daydreaming, the car stopped in front of Kiri's house. Your door opens to fully red Kirishima, clearly embarrassed by his blush, you don't react to it much. A sharp feeling strikes your brain as soon as his hand gently grasps yours... you've lived this before.

"Grab my hand and keep your eyes closed tight, I don't want the surprised spoiled!".

Right- your quirk of future vision. It feels dreamlike but as soon as it's put into motion you can pinpoint everything that'll occur after the first stage, it helps with catching villains in the act of their crimes.

"Okay- one more step... watch out for the step.. another... a third- OKAY! Open.".

You let down our hands to a bundle of streamers, lights, and a painted canvas of you and Kiri with a message written on the bottom of it "RED RIOT'S REASON TO RIOT". You don't even give yourself time to process before leaping into his arms with a kiss, you both fall back onto his lawn where you spontaneously combust into laughter.

This night has been the greatest you've ever had- he knew your favorite movies to watch, shows to binge, and music to dance to the entire night. He knows you.

"I love you, Red."

"I love you, Bubbles."

⬇️PLAYLIST BASED ON FIC⬇️

[mrsdobrik]

CHAPTER 18:

Hey everyone! So for this chapter to make sense you do need to have read the rest of the series! Just letting you know. Also let me know what you think! Love y’all! ❤❤❤

“You are late” Bald Guy barked at Y/n as David brought the car to a stop at the diner’s parking lot. 

“I am sorry” Y/n said getting out of the car. 

“Sorry is not going to cut it princess, don’t bother getting out of the car, you are suspended until Wednesday.”

“What?? Bob please don’t, I said I was sorry. Please, I will stay late to make it up to you.”

“I don’t fucking care, it’s done. Now get the fuck out of here before I add more days to your suspension.”

“Bob, please, it’s the first time I’ve ever been late. Please don’t suspend me!” 

“If you needed the money then you shouldn’t have been late. Now go!” He barked back.

Y/n just got back in the car and David started driving out of there. Once they were a few blocks away he pulled over. By his side Y/n was failing at holding back the tears. 

“I am sorry, I am sorry I made you drive all this way for that, I am sorry he is so awful and I am sorry you had to see that.” Y/n said as tears streamed down her face. 

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about! He is the fucking ass, not you.” Dave said feeling his heart break into little pieces for her.

Dave hugged Y/n for about half an hour before she finally calmed down.

“I am sorry, I feel so over dramatic. It’s just, I hate him, I get there 15 minutes late and he does this. He just wants me to feel that he has power over me.” 

“Babe, I know you said you want to deal with this on your own, but I really think you should quit, you can find another job.” Dave said, still rubbing circles on her back. 

“It’s really hard finding a job that will coincide with my teaching schedule, besides my friends work there and he pays good money. I know I will figure something out. I just need more time” Y/n said.

“Do you want to go back to my place? The guys are coming over, it will be fun! That way you can get your mind off of this whole thing.”

“Okay, lets go.” 

…

As soon as they got to David’s Y/n changed out of her uniform and into a pair of light blue flared jeans and a cream colored cardigan. 

Soon enough David’s friends started popping up. She was starting to become friends with Nat, Zane and Mariah but the rest of the group was still land to be conquered. Y/n came out of David’s room to see Mariah talking to Carly and Erin on the couch. 

“Hey Y/n! Come sit with us!” Mariah said. She was the best. She really got how being thrown into the group felt, because she had been through it. Y/n smiled, relieved by the invitation and made her way to the couch. 

“Hey guys! How are you doing?” She said.

“Great! We were just talking about the science experiment we did last week.”

“Ohh, yeah, I watched the vlog! It looked like chaos. It must have been so much fun to see it in person.”

“It was really cool but really scary.” Carly said.

And with that the conversation shifted to candle scents and Starbucks new drinks.

“Your Starbucks videos are some of my favorites. I just think watching you interact with each other makes for the best content. I remember when the video of David trying Starbucks for the first time came out, I think I watched it maybe 20 times and I am not even exaggerating.” Y/n said.

“No way! You’ve been watching for that long?” Erin asked

“Yeah, and the whole wedding planning series too.”

“OMG, CUTE!” Erin looked at her wedding ring. 

“It still feels so surreal to be here talking to you guys. I’ve told David this, it’s like when I am with him it just feels like David and I kind of forget that he’s the same guy in the vlogs I’ve been watching for years cause it just feels so normal. It’s when he is with all of you that I remember that he is also David Dobrik.”

“Aww, that’s cute” Carly said

“And why did you move here? If you don’t mind me asking.” Erin asked

“Not at all! I was a makeup artist for a couple years and I wanted to come out here and work in fashion editorials and red carpets, it was my dream. I moved here cause I was talking to an agency, they really liked my portfolio and they wanted to sign me. But then it fell through and I was already all moved in and the teaching opportunity came up and so I just took that and fell in love with it. Sometimes I still miss doing makeup, it was an amazing creative outlet for me but I love teaching just as much so…” Y/n said

“Oh, that’s great, I mean the fact that you still found a way to do something you love! You should do our makeup someday!” Erin replied.

“I would love that!” Y/n replied. That is the power of makeup, it brings people together. 

…

Once everyone had left Y/n and David started cleaning up the whole mess that drunk Zane had caused. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” David said. His eyes were gleaming a little which made Y/n extra worried. 

“Oh no! I didn’t think we were there yet. Please don’t ask me to get blindfolded and lay on the ground. If it’s an animal I might never forgive you.”

“Oh wow! You really do watch my vlogs! I don’t think I’ve done one of those in like, at least a couple years.” Dave said laughing at her worry. “But don’t worry, it’s not an animal. Here.” He said and gave Y/n an envelope. 

Inside was a reservation for a hotel in Napa.

“I thought, since you don’t have work for the next couple days we could do something fun. We can leave tomorrow morning.” 

Y/n jumped on top of David and started kissing him all over his face. 

“This is the sweetest thing! You didn’t have to do that! This is so nice! I am so excited! I’ve never been to Napa! You are the best!” She said in between kisses. 

“Wow! If I knew you would react like this I would have done this weeks ago!” Dave said with his signature David laugh.

“You don’t need to get me hotel nights to make me want to kiss you, but this is a really nice gesture and I really appreciate it.” She said then a little more seriously “This is way better than a giant lizard.”

[kim-chann]

--- Order Instructions ;; Hello! May I ask for a jujutsu kaisen matchup, please?

I'm female, bi, Aquarius sun/ Scorpio moon/ Sagittarius rising.

I'm 1,59 m tall, long, blonde hair, pale skin, grey-blue eyes and wear glasses, I'm chubby.

I’m reserved, introverted, really shy, anxious and have low self-esteem. I'm very private. I don’t like crowds. I can be distant and very quiet. I’m very cautious around others. I like joking around though, once comfortable. Chaotic neutral. I’m probably the weird one in my friend group,but I’m rather calm. I daydream a lot. I like teasing my friends and flirting with them playfully. I tend to be sarcastic, ironic, kind of blunt. My sense of humor is slightly dark, dry and often silly or exaggerated. I‘m open minded and understanding.

I need time for myself to recharge. I hate to be late and hate to wait, am mostly organised. I like to watch movies (often horror, but I can get a bit spooked), read books , listen to music and play games occasionally. I also like doing macrame! I love animals, especially cats.

I hope this is okay😅❤

Thank you! Stay healthy, happy and hydrated! 💞💕

Also quick question: what are your favorite pastries?😋

                                                        -- @geheimversteck

༺ Chef Note: Thank you for ordering! Once again, sorry that this took so long for me to write. I hope that you come again soon, and enjoy this order! Also, my favorite pastries are cookies 👀💕

I match you up with . . . 

                                                         Megumi Fushiguro | 伏黒恵 !!!

☉Honestly, I can see you and Megumi just being best friends before he realises that his feelings are more than he thought 

☉ Megumi would feel a sense of comfort just being around you because he knows you, and you know him. Usually he has a sense of discomfort (or has his guard up) when meeting someone, but when he met you he just felt more natural to be open. It’s a weird and foreign feeling to him. (Megumi, it’s called meeting your soul mate 👀💕)

☉Megumi doesn’t overlook the fact that you’re passive to one’s eye and he takes a role to be protective of you and makes sure that you’re comfortable in every way possible. 

☉Whether it’s a crowd, he’ll offer you to hold his hand, talk for you, order for you, and just confront the people who make you uncomfortable.

☉Once Megumi learns that you grew more comfortable to him for spouting out a jokes or two, expect him to share you a rare smile. Or even better, a chuckle!

☉Megumi really appreciates your calm, openminded, and understanding character, because Megumi said “as long as that person who’s compassionate,” then he don’t want anything else

☉ Sometimes Megumi catches you day dreaming and interrupts you with an, “Oi,” or he will sit in front of you to make you pay attention to him. 

☉ He doesn’t know how you can day dream so fast and easily. Sure, he can does day dream too, but he doesn’t do it frequently because he’s always on guard. He finds that interesting about you.

☉ Gosh, when you’re comfortable with Megumi and tease him and even flirt with him, he’d be caught so off guard, he wouldn’t even know if you were joking or not. But the way that his cheeks flare up and his eye brows narrowing just proves that your words affect him quite a lot. 

☉ Megumi finds humour in your sarcastic, ironic, and blunt attitude. He doesn’t know why but when you make a comment about something with the overseen attitude, it just makes him want to laugh. 

☉ He doesn’t really have a sense of humour, and you’d have to explain a joke every few often because one; it either flies over his head, or two; he just doesn’t find humour in it. But if you find it funny, then I guess that it’s funny.

☉ Megumi is a sweet boy and would love you to take you to coffee dates occasionally. It usually happens in the morning, and after a quick share of drinks, he’d ask if you want to go somewhere. 

☉ Quality time is Megumi’s thing and he wants you to know that his efforts mean that he loves you for who you are and is appreciative for you just being there for him. 

☉ Once Megumi gets very comfortable around with you, he’d lean his head on your head or your shoulder to rest. It’s a bit ticklish because of his hair, and it’s sort of weird seeing his hair in your vision often lol. So push it back a bit. Don’t tell Megumi though, because he’ll get hella embarrassed. 

☉ Overall, he’s a pretty boy and a good significant other, cherish this boy! 💕

༺ Chef Note: Thank you for coming around! Sorry if they’re little to a lot of grammar mistakes, I’ve been super lazy to fix it lmao

[jj-lives]

Injury - Inktober fanfic

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yang leaned up against the lockers behind her, shoulders slumped, dragged by the weight of her exhaustion. She let gravity do the rest as she was pulled down. The floor was hard and the cold metal sent a shiver up her spine where it connected with her bare skin, her shirt riding up as she collapsed. That was the worst exam of her entire life. If this was what she had to look forward to in her third year, she wasn’t sure graduate was going to be a moniker she would ever earn.

Yang stretched her arms high above her head, trying to pull the strain out of her trapezius muscle. It had been bothering her all day. She blamed falling asleep on the couch whilst studying. Waking in the most uncomfortable position of her life she’d barely enough control over her body to roll off her temporary bed. Everytime she moved her head in any direction or arms higher than her shoulders there was an accompanying pull all down her neck and into her shoulder blade. It was absolutely killing her.

“That was not a fun test.” Pyrrha spoke up, closing the classroom door behind her. Yang could still see a handful of her classmates struggling to answer the questions before time ran out. She knew they had little of that left and she pitied them. Pyrrha sank to sit beside her. “How do you think you did?”

“Failed,” she said through a groan as she rolled her shoulders.

“I’m sure you didn’t do that badly.” Pyrrha smiled, pushing her with her elbow. Yang sucked in a breath as the movement aggravated her muscles once more. Pyrrha was quick to apologize. “Is it getting any better?”

“Yeah,” Yang lied. “I’m sure it’ll go away after a night's rest in an actual bed. I am never sleeping on the couch ever again.”

Pyrrha stood, holding both hands out to her, “Let’s get out of here. Sitting on the hard floor like this isn’t going to help your condition.” 

She let Pyrrha drag her to her feet. A concerned look was aimed at her even as she tried to bury a grimace behind a smile of her own. It was nice of her not to make a big deal of the small injury, even if Pyrrha could tell how much it was bothering her. Yang hated being babied, which Pyrrha learned long ago. 

“How did you do?” Shouldering her bag she changed the subject. Pyrrha’s clipped footfalls were quick to trail after her.

“I did alright, but a couple questions definitely tripped me up.” She continued only after Yang tipped her head in acknowledgement. “Do you want to get a coffee?”

“Where the hell do you think I was leading us?” She chuckled and Pyrrha joined her.

It was a kind of ritual with them. After every test, exam or major project and presentation they would go to the cafe on the far side of campus. It was the least busy of all the shops on the grounds. The walk was completed in comfortable silence, both replaying the exam back in their heads. Yang wished she’d studied more, though she knew she hadn’t failed -as she told Pyrrha- but she didn’t want this affecting her average in the class. It was difficult enough to keep her GPA where she wanted it. They were both competitive, which wasn’t odd to find of the students in the Athletics college, but both felt the need to excel not only physically, but also academically. 

“We’ll focus more on Kinesiology the next couple of weeks.” Yang looked up from her trainers, surprised to see Pyrrha holding the door to the cafe open for her. She needed to stop autopiloting like that. The test was over and there was nothing to be done now besides look to the future. “My treat today.”

“You owe me for kicking your ass in that race last week anyway.” 

Pyrrha waved away her cockiness. “If that’s how you want to remember it. You want the usual?”

Throwing her a thumbs up, Yang wove her way around the chairs to the back corner to claim their usual spot. There were only a handful of students taking up the other tables. Most were single occupants, studying with laptops, texts and notes strewn across tables for four. One was reading a newspaper and there was a dark haired girl reading near the fireplace along the opposite wall. Her heart stopped for a beat; it was long enough for Yang to realize she’d never seen the other girl before in her life. 

“What’s up?” A mug was placed on the table, vapors snaking up from the froth. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.” Careful lips pressed to the cup as caramel sweet caffeine slid over her tongue. “Thanks.”

Pyrrha’s gaze followed where Yang’s was a moment before. Understanding crossed her features but when she turned back she didn’t mention what they both knew. Yang was relieved. She could barely put words to her reaction to Blake in her mind, there was no way she could yet speak any of it aloud. 

Pyrrha spoke up, talking about her weekend with Nora and Ren, how they all went to a party just off campus. It was easy to fall into the innocent tales of Nora challenging everyone to arm wrestling competitions, or how Ren was secretly very good at beer pong. It was simple. And it succeeded in what Yang assumed was Pyrrha’s goal. It distracted her.

“You have to come with us one weekend.” Pyrrha voiced, calming from a fit of laughter.

Yang took a steadying breath. It did sound like fun. “I don’t know. It isn’t exactly my scene, ya know?” 

“You only say that because you haven’t experienced it.” Pyrrha pointed out. “And it doesn’t have to be a party. You could come the next time we all hang out. Sober,” she added, thinking that was Yang’s problem.

“I’m not against drinking.” She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t like the idea of a bunch of drunk assholes eyeing me up like I’m the answers to all their wet dreams.”

“That’s disgusting.” 

“Exactly. Which is why I’m not in a hurry to experience it.”

There was a moment of silence. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone touch you, right?”

“I don’t doubt you for a second. I’ve been on the receiving end of your right hook, remember?” 

“That was an accident. You moved the mat in the middle of my swing.” Pyrrha took a sip of her cappuccino, glaring at her over the cup’s rim.

“Maybe, but I wore that bruise for two weeks,” she teased.

“Don’t exaggerate.” Drumming her fingers on the table, Pyrrha stole another look at the girl reading in the corner. “You need to socialize more. I worry about you.”

“I know.” Hands wrapped around the comforting heat of her own cappuccino. “You’re a good friend for that and I appreciate you more than you know.”

“But?”

“But, I…” Yang grimaced. The truth was she didn’t have a single reason to refuse Pyrrha’s offer. There were plenty of times she invited her for study sessions, or to join her and her other friends doing exactly what she and Pyrrha were doing now, getting coffee. There were no excuses that could logically explain why Yang held back from getting to know Pyrrha’s friends. “I-”

“I think that you’ve become accustomed to being alone.”

“Ruby lives with me.” she rolled her eyes, brushing the idea aside.

“That’s recent, and she’s hardly home anyway. You told me as much.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking solitude.”

“No, but you don’t like it.” Pyrrha deadpanned. The green of her eyes peering into Yang’s accusingly. “You say as much when you complain how quiet the apartment is, or when you tell me of your boredom. I’ve heard you speak of your high school days.”

“What does that have to do with what’s so obviously wrong with me?” She knew she was getting defensive. She could feel it in the way her muscles tensed and her jaw locked, in the sound of the forced words pushing passed her clenched teeth. She also knew Pyrrha didn’t deserve any of it.

“Yang.” Voice lowered, Pyrrha placed a gentle hand on hers resting on the table. “Nothing is wrong with you. But you were always surrounded by a lot of people up until you moved here and I know you miss that.”

“Yes, because why wouldn’t I miss being surrounded by superficial barbies, and eager to please puppet boys?” Yang tapped a finger against Pyrrha’s wrist. “I’d much rather a friend that cares about me, not my body or looks or what I can do for them on the basketball court.”

“I do!” Her voice rose in indignation.

Yang laughed. “I know. I would rather have just one of you than a hundred of the type I hung out with in highschool.”

Placated with Yang’s compliments Pyrrha relented. “Fine, you don’t have to come out with us. But I don’t think making more friends like me would do you any harm.”

“There’s no one like you, and we both know it!”

A soft smile was Yang’s reward. “Save your flattery for your lady love.”

“What if I’m trying to seduce you?”

“You’re doing a piss poor job.”

“That hurts, like a knife to the guts kinda hurts.”

“That would imply you have any, we both know you haven’t the guts to ask that girl out.” Yang’s jaw hung low, impressed with Pyrrha’s comeback. “Should we test your spine too, or has that abandoned you as well?”

“Let’s not get nasty.” Yang pouted. “If you don’t like me that way you could have just said so. No need for slinging insults.”

“You deserve it.”

Yang could still see the worry behind her friend's smiling eyes. “I’ll come out with you- not this weekend!” She quickly added when Pyrrha looked at her excitedly. “I promise I’ll agree to an outing. Just one.”

Pyrrha settled, leaning back in her chair. “I’ll have to make it worth it then.” 

Yang had a feeling she would live to regret her words. She could see the wheels spinning in Pyrrha’s mind. 

“Thank you.”

Yang could only nod, knowing that all jokes aside, Pyrrha was only thinking of her well being and she’d been such a great friend to her. If this one thing could help her friend worry a little less than Yang would agree to it.

A sudden crash of a cup breaking behind the counter ripped through their silence. Both spared a hasty glance to the young girl behind the till who was beat red with embarrassment. Yang hissed at the strain the sudden movement caused, pain flaring up once again.

“Are you sure you will be alright?”

“You’ve worried over me enough today, don’t you think?”

“Not really. If I don’t do it who will?”

“You make a good point, but the strain will go away with sleep.” Turning her gaze out the window Yang could see the sun was already setting and dusk was sweeping its way across the campus. “Speaking of sleep, it’s getting late. We should probably head out.”

“Yeah,” Both stood and collected their things before exiting the building. “Meet in the library during our break tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we can go over what we remember of the test and try to get a head start on the next section.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

They split up, Pyrrha to her dormitory and Yang to the parking lot, hoping she remembered where she’d parked. 

Taking a shortcut through the Arts building would save her a good five minutes rather than taking the long way around. She didn’t visit the building often, only having had one class in it during her first year. It was nice enough and Yang enjoyed looking at the sketches, paintings and sculptures previous students had completed over the years. The building housed a few art exhibitions a couple times a year and Yang realized, as she came up to a group blocking the hall to her escape, that was exactly what was happening now. She thought the paintings on the walls looked more professional than usual.

Sticking to the wall, Yang skirted the majority of bodies, excusing herself when she had to brush up on anyone too closely. She was sure that the last guy had heard her ask him to move but remained planted, ignoring her as one of the sculptures would, so she had to press very close to pass him. The smirk he sent her as she passed confirmed the creep she pegged him for. She wished he was a sculpture she could topple over. She’d take pleasure watching him break into a million pieces. 

As she shot him a look of her own she noticed a familiar figure in the middle of the crowd. As if sensing eyes on her, Blake looked up from the notes she was taking. Yang lifted her arm to wave and gave her a wide grin. It was a surprise when her greeting was readily returned, with almost as much enthusiasm. She was glad that Blake didn’t seem as reserved around her as before, even if they hadn’t had another chance to hang out since the movies. Yang could tell they were in some night class of sorts or an on campus field trip, so she gave Blake another wave and continued on her way. She was bound to come around at some point, seeing as every one of Ruby’s stories involved both Weiss and the girl behind her.

Pyrrha’s earlier comments filled her head. Had Blake not been in class would Yang have had the guts to talk to her? Would she have the backbone to stand there and ask the girl out? 

The skittish way she seemed to react to Blake told Yang that her friend was probably right. Nothing short of a neon sign from Blake letting her know she was interested would be enough to give Yang that push she needed. 

Maybe Pyrrha was right about everything. Maybe she was getting too comfortable in the past two years of her solitude.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late to rectify that.

[notbang]

R/N - #11

halloween prompt meme | read on ao3

It takes him a second to recognise her beneath the wig, but he should have guessed, really. Who else would rent a costume that takes up approximately one third of the office space with its multiple layers of petticoats?

He waits until Paula peels away from her side in the direction of the bathroom, his nostrils flaring at the probably health-code-violating screen of dry ice he has to push through in order to reach where she’s leaning against a column, eyes glued to her period-anachronous phone.

“Figures you’d be involved in this productivity suck somehow,” he says as he sidles up to her, hands stuffed in his pockets in a way he likes to think exudes nonchalance.

Rebecca regards him, unimpressed, over the top of the screen. He’s not sure if it’s the light reflecting from her phone, or her makeup, or both, but she’s even paler than usual; glowing alabaster amongst the dimly lit cubicles.  

Her answering laugh is entirely mocking. “I see your invite failed to get lost in the mail. Kudos on the costume, though—rich white dude is about the most repulsive thing I can think of.”

He gives a pointed once-over to her dress—a complex concoction of white frills and lace—and feels his lips curl back in a smirk. “Almost as terrifying as the prospect of eternal matrimony,” he agrees. “Once again, my deepest condolences, by the way.”

Any chance she has at supplying some kind of rejoinder in retort is squashed by the approach of a waiter—exactly how much money had Darryl spent on this thing, anyway?—with a round mop of black hair that looks like it escaped from a disco in the mid 70s, brandishing a tray boasting an array of dips and elaborately carved carrot sticks.

Rebecca frowns, apparently already somehow acquainted with the server. “Marty?”

“Rebecca B! This is where you work? How about that! Sweet digs. Sweet digs indeed.” The disco flunkey’s eyes light up when they roam across to Nathaniel. “And aren’t you two a fright for sore eyes? A perfectly spooky bride and groom! Yeah, that gaudy ring really finishes the look. That’s gotta be from that pawn shop over on East Cameron—they sell the weirdest old junk there. Something borrowed, something boo, am I right?”

The blossoming red blush breaks out across Rebecca’s chest like bright, blotchy watercolour beneath her skin.

“It’s not—we’re not…” she begins, face scrunching. “This is not—he’s not even wearing a costume!”

Nathaniel, amused enough at her discomfort that his disdain for the entire scenario is secondary, catches the eye of the source of her distress over her shoulder, shaking his head minutely to confirm the absurdity of the assumption.

He can’t help himself, though—his palm finds the small of her back of its own accord. Rebecca’s eyes, if possible, bug even wider as he tugs her towards him. “It never feels like a costume when it’s as real as what we have, though, does it, Muffin?”

Marty lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “Right on—I hear you, buddy. Hope you two enjoy the… patê,” he adds, indicating the tray of dips before disappearing with a playful shimmy.

Barking out a polite laugh at the eye roll-inducing pun, Nathaniel shepherds a still spluttering Rebecca into the break room—currently empty, ostensibly in favour of the makeshift dance floor forming over by the elevator—before promptly dropping his hand away from her back as if badly burned.

“Muffin?!” she seethes as as she whirls to face him, giving him an incredulous shove before batting haphazardly at his chest with her tiny, ineffectual fists.

“It only seemed apropos,” he drawls, lazily, “given how many of them you eat.”

“You…” she growls, then shakes herself, her train of thought seemingly lost to her irritation. “Why are you even here? I thought you couldn’t be within a ten mile radius of candy without your teeth literally falling out.”

“Ha ha,” he says with exaggerated sarcasm. “As distasteful as this entire embarrassing excuse of party is, it is a company event. It’d be unseemly of me not to at least make an appearance.”

“Couldn’t resist ruining everyone’s fun, more like it. God, it’s like everything is some kind of masturbatory performance with you, isn’t it?”

Her ample bosom, amplified by the cut of her gown and in considerable clear and present danger of spilling over and out entirely, rises and falls with the uneven rhythm of her steadily mounting frustration.

Not that he’s looking, or anything. Just that it’s making some kind of point of filling up his field of vision.

“Please,” he sneers, looking down the ridge of his nose and being careful to focus on her splotchy face rather than directly below it as he gestures out towards the bullpen. “Are you telling me you didn’t choose that costume as some sort of dry run for your impending nuptials to the flip flop? I bet you’ve been parading around in that dress all evening, flashing that ring at anyone that so much as glances in your direction. Congratulations, by the way—purple is his colour. Really makes that pawn shop gemstone pop when it’s curled around your fiancé’s spandex covered bicep.”

“There was a slight miscommunication on which Phantom he was dressing up as, okay,” Rebecca snaps. “And I’m not bothered by it, because it’s a charming anecdote that I’m going to tell all the Jewish-Filipino babies we’re going to have every year on Halloween.”

He forces out a sardonic laugh. “Well, have fun with that. Remind me again—why is this a Halloween party?”

“It’s Halloween in September,” she says, incomprehensibly defensive, the no duh implicit in her voice. She crosses her arms, and it does nothing to coax her heaving cleavage back into its confines. “It’s like Christmas in July, except for Halloween. Darryl’s a big fan of mixing things up, unlike you—we get it, dude! You like burgundy ties!”

Just as a riposte is forming on the tip of his tongue, Jim—an eyesore in bright red pleather if one ever existed—barrels through the break room with a drunk and disorderly, vampire-fang-bearing Tim hot on his heels, forcing Nathaniel to sidestep abruptly out of their path. The issue with that is, he fails to notice until he hears the resulting sharp intake of breath, is that it has him pressing Rebecca into the corner of the bench in front of the tinsel-adorned coffee maker.

The smart thing to do would be to step away. The dangerous thing—the stupidest decision possible, really—would be to stand his ground. To loom and crowd her further.

God, it’s like the idiocy of this place is seeping into him via osmosis.

Rebecca gulps, untamed breasts brushing distractingly against his sternum, and casts a frenzied glance out into the party proper, making sure no one is watching them through the slats.

A little light headed but ultimately spurred on by her fluster, Nathaniel straightens his spine and dips his head, voice tipping low to tease. “It still makes sense, you know. The costume choice. After all, your life is basically a soap opera. And nobody can blame you for wanting to hide that—” He nods towards the photocopier, where Josh is otherwise occupied with his attempts to get a Jenga game going with several desks’ worth of highlighters. “—away behind a mask.”

“Yeah, well,” she sputters, “it’s lucky that he got the costume wrong. Because his left is actually his best angle. Yeah. So you’d be missing out, otherwise. And you’re, like, so incredibly wrong. I don’t want to hide his face. I love that face. It’s my favourite face.” He doesn’t miss the way her gaze flits down to his lips, and his tongue darts out to wet it on autopilot. “I wanna rub my face all over his face, all the time.”

He leans in further, and he can’t be imagining it—the way her breath falters, and her eyelids start to flutter as his breath fans out across her face with deliberation. “Uh-huh.”

Interesting, he thinks, filing away the visible pluck of the cords in her neck as she swallows, as if in slow motion, to revisit later.

As if compelled by some inexplicable urge and drunk off finally, finally feeling like he has the upper hand, he tilts minutely, mouth moving towards grazing the shell of her ear. “I know it’ll be tempting, when you’re lying in bed tonight, trying to get the image of your mediocre choice of a life partner squeezed into a morph suit the colour of Barney dinosaur out of your head. But do me a favour, Rebecca, hmm? Try not to—” He pauses dramatically for effect. “—think of me.”

He can tell by the way her eyes widen with surprise for a split second only to scrunch in confusion that she’s caught the reference. Finally, he thinks as his pulse thrums through him with intense satisfaction: a use for having to spend hours inside a stuffy theatre box with an aunt that always smelled too strongly of peppermint oil.

A moment later and Rebecca’s spring-loaded, shoving him aside to make her escape. Just before she melts back into the throng of partygoers, though, she turns, left hand curling around the edge of the wooden partition, ring glinting red beneath the disco lights; the only time all night she’s managed not making it look embarrassingly staged.

“In your dreams,” she tells him, deadly serious, then hikes up her voluminous skirts and stomps off in flurry of frilly white lace and bouncing black-brown synthetic curls.