#it may have been a plain black suit to the met but he ate the look up

[moo-blogging]

Late night thoughts #76.5:

Modern Au - CEO Levi (Short version)

You finally got accepted into your dream company in another city. You thought your dull life was finally getting better. However, your colleagues looked down on you being a small town girl. They made fun of you and gave you lots of work. Still, you sucked it up and bore with it, hoping to prove yourself one day.

Things got worst when your colleagues boycotted you during lunch time. They commented how your homecooked meals stink the pantry, pressuring you to eat your lunch cold or eat somewhere else. While looking for a quiet place to eat your cold lunch, you came across "heaven", the 47th floor.

The whole floor was a pantry with a single table and two chairs. There was a ceiling to ground window showcasing the sky and a whole wall of mirror reflecting the sky. After a week of inspection, it was safe to conclude that nobody used the pantry here, or you never met anyone while using it. You spent your lunch there everyday, enjoying a stolen moment of peace from your hectic department.

One day, when you were having lunch, the lift went ‘ding!’ and a man alighted from the lift. He was unbuttoning his grey suit with one hand, showing his black buttons up underneath while his other hand ran through his hair. Your eyes met and he stopped for a while. You held your breath. Your head went blank. But the man simply nodded and headed toward the counter. He filled up the electronic kettle. The sound of water replaced the awkward silence.

'Coffee? Or Tea?' a deep voice rang. You jumped at the sudden question and stammered 'tt-tea please.'

He clicked the kettle on in a swift motion and took 2 cups from the cupboard. You were mentally looking for alternative places to eat your lunch.

"You can eat here." The man said as if he read your mind. He was leaning against the counter, wiping the cups with a white towel. You looked at his face while he looked at yours. You nodded in gratitude.

After that, you started seeing him in the pantry. He never ate anything but plain tea. You felt awkward eating alone so you made extra for him. He always finished everything and helped you washed the food container before you left for your department. You asked for his name one day. He thought for a while, and said “I’ll tell you next time.” You told him you would tell him your name when he told you his. He smirked.

After 8 months of working in the company, you received an internal call for an interview at the 47th floor. When you reached there, you saw the man you had lunch with for the past 2 months. You asked if he was there for an interview too. He said yes. As you talked, one of the mirrors on the wall swinged opened, revealing a tall man. You watched in shock.

The tall man spoke “Mr Ackerman, the office is ready.”

The man next to you nodded and turned to you. “You have passed the interview. You will be my PA starting today.” And he held his hand out, “My name is Levi. May we work fine together, y/n.”

Levi’s eyes gleamed as he smirked.

Levi’s POV (does it count as POV?):

(Levi had been watching you having lunch in his personal pantry from his office for a couple of months. From the outside, his office windows were mirrors, but he could see the outside clearly from the inside. Initially it came as a shock, but soon your presence gave his cold, quiet office some warmth as you hummed while microvawing your food, or how you stretched your back or waved at planes in the sky. He forbade other people from visiting him at his office during your lunch time, just to have a quiet moment with you even though you never knew he was there. It was an accident he walked into you. He forgot about your lunch time and you both saw each other. He took this chance as a change, often waiting for you at the pantry just to sit next to you silently. He always wanted to say something, but he did not know what to say. He did not want to seem like a creepy stalker or do anything that would scare you away. He learnt your name when you started to show up in his pantry, but never had the guts to say it out loud. Unbeknownst to him, he would smile whenever he watched you from his office, you were his little daisy, bringing joy so small yet so impactful to his life. And he decided to keep his little daisy close to him.)

[unforth]

May Trope Mayhem Fill Day 1: Friends to Lovers

Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official’s Blessing

Ship: Xie Lian/Hua Cheng

Rating: Gen

Tags: modern au, tooth-rotting fluff, 520 day, florist Xie Lian

Word count: 2,492

Cross-posted to AO3

@duckprintspress​

The bell over the door rang and Xie Lian turned from the bouquet he was arranging, forcing his expression into a tired smile as he prepared to greet yet another customer. 520 was an auspicious day for love, and a great day for Xie Lian’s shop, but it was exhausting. His smile widened and became more genuine, though, when he saw his customer: Hua Cheng, one of the few regulars that Xie Lian knew well enough to consider a friend. 

Not that they’d ever met any place outside of “Buds to Blooms.”

Not that they’d ever spent much time together.

Not that they talked about anything other than flowers, at least not most of the time.

Not that they had really any relationship at all, no matter how much Xie Lian might want one.

Hua Cheng looked especially dapper for the holiday, tall, slim form clothed in black slacks, a red button up shirt, and a black suit jacket. Silver jewelry adorned his neck, an intricate filigree in the shape of butterfly nestled between the open buttons of the top of his shirt. His fingers were beringed, one looped with a red string that seemed oddly familiar, and sparkling chains were threaded through his long hair. Tiny chimes sounded every time he moved his head. As if his attire wasn’t enough to demonstrate that he had a date for the evening, his eye patch, usually plain, today was decorated with a red felt heart that Xie Lian suspected had been sewn on by hand.

He was gorgeous.

(read more!)

Something unpleasantly like jealousy curdled in Xie Lian’s stomach. If only he were the one that Hua Cheng got dressed up for...if only he were the one Hua Cheng wanted...if only--

“Xie Lian?” Hua Cheng asked.

Blinking, Xie Lian flushed. He’d been staring, a white rose stem still clutched in one hand, his trimmers in the other. With a shake of his head, he shoved the blossom into the arrangement he’d been working on, set the clippers down, and wiped his hands on his apron as he stepped out from behind the counter. 

“Good evening, Hua Cheng,” he said brightly. Being jealous of the man, woman, or genderqueer individual privileged to spend the evening with Hua Cheng was absurd. “You’ve got perfect timing, I was just about to close up for the night.” Xie Lian was under no delusions of what his actual relationship with Hua Cheng was - customer and businessman, with a splash of friendship. “Indeed...I’d probably be closed already, except I wanted to get a head start on tomorrow.”

“I know,” said Hua Cheng with a toothy grin. “I got tired of waiting.” Confused, Xie Lian tilted his head to one side. Stopping in the middle of the open store floor, Hua Cheng turned a slow circle, eye searching the decimated shelves and coolers. “Wow, you musta been busy.” Xie Lian usually prided himself on the profusion and variety of flowers he kept in stock, but closing time on the busiest day of the year saw him nearly cleaned out. 

“I’m exhausted,” Xie Lian confessed. With any normal customer, he’d never have admitted it - always have to be bright and perky and indefatigable for the clientele! - but Hua Cheng wasn’t a normal customer. “But 520 day alone pays my rent for most of the year, so it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is,” Hua Cheng murmured. “And I’m sure you need a break, so…” A decisive nod set of a cascade of beautiful music as Hua Cheng strode to one of the coolers and pulled it open. A few bedraggled bouquets and a single bucket full of stalks of cape jasmine were all that remained within. Every year, Xie Lian stocked up on the cape jasmine, tiny white blossoms nestled in profusion amidst evergreen leaves, and every year hardly anyone bought any. Xie Lian didn’t care. They were his favorite flower, and a small indulgence, and when no one bought them, he got to take them home and put them on his dining room table and imagine impossible things while he ate dinner for one on the most romantic night of the year.

Except apparently not this year, because Hua Cheng ignored the arrangements and grabbed the entire plastic vase of jasmine.

“How much for all of these?” Hua Cheng asked, hefting the container and letting the cooler door slide shut behind him.

Could he be any more perfect?

“Oh...uh…” Catching his lip between his teeth, Xie Lian looked at the flowers, looked at Hua Cheng, looked at the darkness outside his shop window, and sighed. “...just take them. You’re a loyal customer, and it’s not like I was going to sell them to anyone else tonight. They’ll be past selling by tomorrow, so…”

“No,” replied Hua Cheng firmly. Xie Lian frowned, confusion intensifying. “Name a price.”

“But--”

“Look. There’s this person. I’ve tried everything I can think of to let them know how I feel, and nothing has worked. And I have a suspicion or three about why they won’t listen, so tonight is the night. They’re worth it, and I need them to know they’re worth it, and so I’m paying, and then I’m taking these flowers to them, and then - unless I’m devastatingly wrong about their opinion of me - we’re spending the evening together, and I’m getting them dinner, and maybe giving them a foot massage. So. Tell me how much I owe you, Xie Lian.”

No, seriously - could he be any more perfect?

Yes, he could...if I was the person he was doing all those nice things for.

Xie Lian heaved a sigh. “250 yuan,” he said. Hua Cheng lifted a suspicious eyebrow. Yeah, Xie Lian might have low-balled that number a little...a lot… “...okay, more like 400.”

“Perfect,” Hua Cheng announced. Setting the container down at his feet, he reached into a pocket, withdrew a billfold, and deliberately counted out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 100 renminbi bills.

“Hua Ch--”

“Zip it,” Hua Cheng said, setting the money down on the counter just behind Xie Lian. Because Xie Lian was still just standing there. With his hands at his sides. Staring. And feeling sorry for himself. “I’m taking the container too.”

“That still doesn’t cost--”

Oh, but he was so tired.

“This person is worth it.”

Xie Lian struggled to keep his exhale from leaving as a forlorn sigh; it whispered from him, leaving his shoulders slumped, his mind fogged, and his chest hollow. “Alright. Have a nice night, Hua Cheng.”

“I will.” There was an inexplicable intensity to Hua Cheng’s voice, but Xie Lian didn’t want to try to understand. What he already knew hurt enough, and he knew he was being absurd. Dwelling on it would only intensify his sadness. Hua Cheng lifted the bucket of jasmine again, hugged it close with apparent indifference to the damage it might do to his expensive suit, and walked to the door. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Xie Lian, his voice empty, his heart empty, his store empty, his life...he shook his head and followed Hua Cheng to the door. Given Hua Cheng’s burdens, Xie Lian hustled and stepped before him, opening the door so he could leave without even more difficulty. “Thanks as always for your business.”

“My business…” Hua Cheng echoed. “Is that what this is?”

Xie Lian had no idea what Hua Cheng meant.

Xie Lian refused to think about what Hua Cheng meant, as Hua Cheng stepped out of the store, and Xie Lian closed and locked the door behind him, and Xie Lian turned and stared at his barren shelves, cast in deep shadow in the low evening light.

Tomorrow, he’d be up bright and early to receive his shipments, make the day’s deliveries, run the business, do all the work of owning a florist shop himself.

Tomorrow, he’d be collected, and calm, and professional.

Today…

A single teardrop made a wet, cool line down his cheek.

...today, he was being ridiculous.

Shaking off his melancholy, Xie Lian set about shutting down. There were cases to refill, vases to wash, coolers to clean. There was work to do, so much work to do, and he lost himself in the rhythm of it, in the simple joy it brought him. Minutes passed, the evening stretching later. Outside, he could hear as celebrators walked by. There was so much joy and jollity in their voices, and brought him a sense of pride to reflect and think - he helped make the day better for many people. His flowers brought happiness to dozens, hundreds, of people.

It was enough.

His flowers brought happiness to Hua Cheng.

It was almost enough.

It was--

A knock-knock-knock startled Xie Lian as he carefully swept bits of leaf and petal into his palm after wiping the cooler interior. Tumbling to his bottom, scattering flower bits over his lap, he sat there blinking. It was probably just some doomed boyfriend or husband realizing they’d forgotten to buy their love a gift. It was probably...but he glanced toward the exterior door, and there was no one there.

Knock, knock, knock.

Uncertain, Xie Lian rose and walked toward the back of the store. The knocking grew louder the closer he drew to the receiving door, and finally, baffled, Xie Lian went to it and peered through the peekhole.

Hua Cheng stood outside, smile suave, arms embracing the container of cape jasmine branches.

Xie Lian hesitantly unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Apologies, was there something wrong with…?”

“Oh, never,” replied Hua Cheng brightly. “I just got tired of waiting. Again.”

“I don’t…um...?”

“I told you, I have someone very important I want to see tonight, and they deserve to know how much I value them.”

Hearing it again stung. Did Hua Cheng really have to rub in how special this person was to him? What did any of it have to do with Xie Lian? Why was Hua Cheng here, instead of with them? None of it made any sense, and Xie Lian didn’t want to think about it, except how could he not think, and wonder, and mourn, with Hua Cheng standing in front of him once more?

“I’m sorry...I don’t…”

Hua Cheng rolled his eye. “Unfortunately, he’s not always the most observant individual, but I forgive him for that. To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I’d forgive him anything.”

Wait.

Was Hua Cheng implying…

Don’t think about it.

“Huh?” asked Xie Lian.

...but it almost sounds like...

With a hearty, gorgeous laugh that set flower bucket water sloshing to the ground, Hua Cheng threw his head back. “They’re for you, Xie Lian,” he managed between gales. “They’re your favorite, right?” 

Oh.

Oh...oh, wow.

No...it couldn’t be.

“Huh?!”

Setting the container of flowers down beside the door, Hua Cheng withdrew one stalk, length heavily bowed with tiny white blossoms, and held it out for Xie Lian to take. Too tired, too bemused, too drunk on nascent hope to decline, Xie Lian took it. 

“I couldn’t exactly ask you out while you were on the clock,” Hua Cheng explained. “For a long time, I thought I’d been so clear about my interest, and that surely you’d pick up on it and, if you were interested, respond in kind. But even though you flirted back, you never, ever did, and I started to wonder...I was pretty depressed about it for a while there…”

“...you stopped coming for a few months…” murmured Xie Lian.

“Yup, exactly - then. But I couldn’t stay away, and when I returned you were so happy to see me, and I couldn’t believe I’d misread your mutual interest so completely. And then it occurred to me...what if it wasn’t your interest I’d misread, but...you?”

“Me?”

“You’re so quiet.” Hua Cheng’s voice was fond, his expression gentle, and he reached out with a hand to cup Xie Lian’s chin. “You’re so kind.” The red string tied around Hua Cheng’s finger brushed Xie Lian’s cheek. “You’re so self-effacing.” The feel of it was familiar, and Xie Lian finally recognized it - it was one of his strings, from the store, the ones he used to tie bouquets. “You would never presume that I’d be more interested in you than in the flowers you sold.” Hua Cheng was wearing it like jewelry. “Not that I don’t love flowers - I do, truly.” That was so… “Almost as much as I love you.”

...so…

...wait, what?

“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian breathed, heart in his throat, tears in his eyes. 

“Will you go out with me tonight, A-Lian?” asked Hua Cheng, deep and rich and gloriously sincere.

Xie Lian opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it, blinked away tears, and then smiled. “I guess it depends,” he said with a grin.

It was gratifying to see Hua Cheng look a fraction as confused as Xie Lian had felt most of the evening. “On what?”

“...did you mean what you said earlier?”

“Every word.”

“Even the part about the foot massage?”

“Especially the part about the foot massage!” said Hua Cheng. “When was the last time you sat down?”

“I don’t even remember,” Xie Lian admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

“I know, A-Lian.” Sliding a hand down Xie Lian’s neck, along his shoulder, and down his arm, Hua Cheng took Xie Lian’s hand in his own, clasped both their fingers around the jasmine stem, raised it to his lips, and gave it a gentle kiss. Jasmine petals rained down between them like spring rain. “So I hope you’ll forgive me for making it even longer.”

“Oh, Hua Cheng…” Joy bursting through his heart, Xie Lian allowed Hua Cheng to gently tug him out the back and pull the door closed behind them. “...A-Cheng…” The soothing scent of jasmine flowers filled the alley. “I’d forgive you anything.”

“Anything, anything?”

“Anything, anything,” Xie Lian confirmed. “Though--”

“Knew there’d be a catch.”

“--I’d appreciate if I could go home and change before dinner?”

“...that’s fair. Should I wait for you here?” asked Hua Cheng with a gesture to the narrow, dirty alley.

“Why don’t you walk me back?” Xie Lian suggested.

“Not nervous about inviting a strange man back to your place?” Hua Cheng teased.

“I think only a strange man would want to come back to my place…”

“As I suspected - you sell yourself far too short.”

“Then aren’t I lucky to have you to tell me your worth?” 

I do have you, right? You really think…

“You are,” Hua Cheng replied, unhesitating and firm. “And I will.”

...you really do.

“Wow.”

I was right.

“You’re worth everything to me, A-Lian.”

He really is so perfect...

“And you, to me.”

...we’re really perfect.

And, hand-in-hand, in a cloud of cape jasmine blossoms and a choir of chimes, they walked toward Xie Lian’s apartment.

Together.

[stardancerluv]

I’ll Always Catch You

Summary: What if you randomly met Roman?

Arthor’s note: Alot of angst is ahead! This is a bit long! I didn’t want to stretch this out. This story, has another ending. If there is enough curiousity about it perhaps I will post it.

After a long day at work, you had agreed to meet your friends out for drinks. It had been ages since you did that. So you got all dolled up and headed out.

You were relieved to discover that the Black Mask had tables. So you grabbed one. You ordered a drink.

You watched as people met up with others. Giggles and smiles were shared. Toasts were made. You eyed the time, you left messages. Nothing.

On drink number two, you got up and danced to a few songs. The music was fantastic, the signer was amazing.

Out of breath, but determined to not let the lack of messages back ruin your night, you went back to people watching.

You were fanning yourself, when someone a man in a flawless, white suit walked past your table. The sight of him alone, made you finish what was left of your second drink.

He had a strong jaw line, raven black hair and blue eyes that would slice you in half if you were caught by them.

You were checking your messages, when a waiter came by with a third drink.

You held up a hand, “Oh! I didn’t order that.” Drinks were very good but very expensive. You had debated on where you should get a third.

“It’s on the house.” The waiter smiled, put out a cloth coaster and put the drink on it. “Enjoy.” They smiled brightly and walked away.

You looked around. Wondering who could have possibly ordered a drink for you of all people.

You didn’t see anyone who caught your eye, except the man in white. He appeared to be in a serious conversation. His gloved hands were gesturing as if to stress something, very important or at least that is what it looked like.

You hoped distantly, his night had not been ruined. As you took a sip of the drink you didn’t know why you cared but you did. Perhaps, it was because he was so handsome.

Holding your glass, the cloth coaster, intrigued you. You didn’t want to just put the glass down, so you grabbed one of the plain paper ones that remained on the table, then you put it down.

Picking up the cloth one, you looked at it closer. A very elegant set of initials were sewn into the fabric. At least that is what you assumed they were. The thread was a brilliant shade of gold thread accented with black thread. In an opposite corner, in just as elegant script but only in black, was the name of the club. This was wonderfully elaborate and beautiful coaster. You’d expect that it belong in the vip lounge, not to be served to you, who had only ordered two little drinks.

Putting it down, you reached and put your glass back on it. Sitting back, you oddly felt amused. Tickled actually. Made you feel special. A smile even curled your lips.

“I was hoping, I’d finally see a smile on that face.”

Startled, you looked in the direction of the voice. You could not, stop from gasping. “Hello.” You immediately sat up straighter.

The word twisted in your mouth. It brought an easy smile from him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I mean I had walked by earlier.”

“Well, that was earlier and before I started my third drink.” You said without any hesitation, immediately you mentally kicked yourself for sounding so stupid.

“We do make them a strong here.” He gestured to the spot opposite you in the booth. “May I?”

“Sure, please.” Butterflies, began to flap in your stomach. What had he meant by we, you were amused watching as he easily sat down.

He glanced around and gestured. The waiter was back in a breath. “I’ll have another.”

“Certainly, Mr. Sionis.” They smiled and nodded.

They looked at you, you shook your head. Words, were a jumble in your mouth as it dawned on you who had just sat down with you

He looked back at you. “I couldn’t help but notice, you’ve been alone all night. Why?”

You took a sip of your drink, grateful your hand didn’t shake. “My friends never showed.” Once you began speaking, you discovered it was easier then you had thought. “And honestly, I didn’t want to leave.” You looked around smiling, then leaned forward “This place is great.”

The drink arrived with the same cloth coaster you nodded. You watched him nod and take a sip.

“Thank you. I strive to make this the best place in Gotham.” An air of something, confidence not exactly smugness splashed across his face.

“I haven’t tried the food yet, but the drinks and entertainment, are spot on.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Oh I’m good.”

He smirked. “You sure not even an appetizer?” He cocked up an eyebrow.

“Only, if you share it.” You don’t know what compelled you to say it but you did.

“Alright. I don’t usually eat down here in the club but for you, I’ll make an exception.” He gestured. Once again the waiter came right over. “Would you like me to order?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

His voice grew hushed then but waiter was happily nodding then fluttered away.

“I am sure you will enjoy what I chose.”

The buterflies were still flapping in your stomach but you were finally enjoying yourself.

You took a sip of your drink. “Did you have a good meeting earlier?”

A small smile came to his lips. “You noticed?”

You shrugged. “The way you gestured, it looked important.” You hope you didn’t over reach.

“It did.”

The food came then, your eyes grew. The two dishes looked exquisite. “Appetizers?” Looked over at him.

He shrugged. “Just a little taste.”

Sometime later, admittedly it was a little rough eating in his presence, since you were so nervous. You knew this was silly but you enjoyed it all. You were about to thank him, when the waiter eagerly took you plates and replaced them with little tarts.

“Dessert, too?”

He shrugged. “I like to go all out.”

“Well, you achieve what you strive for. This has turned out to be far better then I could have ever expected.”

“Good.”

You smiled, as you finished the last of the tart. “That was far too good. The next time I come, I will have to have another.”

“It is a favorite.” He ate the last piece of his own.

Your smile dropped, as you saw behind him the arrival of your very drunk looking friends.

He looked behind him and back at you. “What?”

You pressed your lips together. “My friends, my very drunk friends have finally arrived.” You finished your drink.

“Oh.” He scooted out of the booth, grabbing his glass. “I hope you will have even more fun now.” With that he walked away.

They were loud and giggling and gave incredibly sloppy hugs. Lots of apologies were exchanged. You were already bored with them but you smiled and played nice.

The waiter came back and with flourish placed a cloth coaster, a glass of champagne in front of you.

“Thank you.” Looking around you spotted him across the club. You mouthed a thank you. He held up his glass and nodded.

Which for a moment, silenced the buzz of your friends but that didn’t last long.

*******

You honestly, don’t know where the time had gone. Some four months later, you finally returned to the Black Mask club. This time, you did not have plans to meet your friends.

Once seated you took it all in. Like before, everything was such a feast for the senses. It wasn’t long before a tart was delivered. Smiling, you looked around.

There he was. This time he was in an equally sharp looking suit but this time it was blue. You watched as, what looked like a forced smile was plastered across his face and it disappeared almost as fast as it appeared. It made a pang go through you. That meeting must have not gone well. You looked back at your tart.

A glass being placed on your table filled your ears. “Thank you.”

“Darling, that was my drink.” A soft, rich chuckle came from him.

“Oh!” You looked up smiling. “Hello.”

A softer, broader smile spread across his face. “Welcome, back. It’s been awhile.”

You grimaced. “Life and work got in the way.”

He shook his head. “You need you to take care of yourself. Nothing, should ever be so serious that it keeps you away from things you enjoy.” A mischievous glint lit up his eyes, making your butterflies, appear and flap for their lives in your stomach. “Especially, when it comes to those tarts.”

You giggled. “You’re right. I missed them terribly.”

He exhaled, you watched as his gloved hand formed a fist. That’s when heard before seeing, the infamous Harley Quinn, dancing or humping, you couldn’t decide which on one the poles.

“Apparently, someone likes to make a scene.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you join me for a tart?” You hoped he’d join you like he had that one night.

“Sure, give me...”

A scream tore through the club silencing it instantly.

His attention snapped to it. Harley did something. She sat smugly on one of the sofas, as a man was writhing and screaming at her. Roman, left his glass on the table as he immediately garnered the attention of everyone. The man was silently whisked away.

A random person, stopped on the way to bar. “Get your free shot!”

“I’ll be right up.” You weren’t leaving. This was horrible.

Roman, flushed. His cheeks were scarlet in his apparent anger as he came back to your table. He drained his drink.

“Dreams are for naught.” He glanced at you. His blue eyes were far away. “Have a good night.”

Your annoyance towards Harley Quinn began that night. It started as a tight knot in the pit of your stomach.

*****

You cheek rested in your hand, you were bored to tears at work. Looking, at your knick knacks, and even some of the post cards; were not helping.

“Y/F/N, this just arrived for you.”

You looked up at as the secretary to the office, came over to your cubical. You mood lifted a little. You took the envelop from their hands.

You smiled when you saw the script, you knew immediately who it was from. You swirled in your seat. Your heart picked up speed, your fingertips tingled. Taking a breath, you gently opened the envelop, seeing the gold inlay your eyes grew. It was lovely. You pulled out the heavy black paper.

Hello Y/N,

I would enjoy it very much if you were to be my personal guest tonight at the Black Mask.

I will have a cocktail and a tart waiting for you. I look forward to seeing you at seven o’clock sharp.

Yours,

Roman Sionis

You did a little happy dance in your chair.

******

Not only did you wore a new dress but you, styled your hair as well. You wanted to look as good as possible.

Outside, of the Black Mask you stopped and gathered your breath. In all of these months of getting to know Roman, this was the first time he personally sent an invitation.

With your head held high you went in. A hostess, this time seeing you escorted you to a table. “Thank you.” You whispered. You shook gently, as the butterflies took flight.

“Hello, Y/N.” You smiled when you saw it was the man with white hair. He seemed to to be his confidant. The two of you had never been formally introduced.

“Yes, I mean hello.” You blushed and smiled.

“I will tell Roman you’re here.”

You smoothed your dress more times then you cared to admit. A waitress, came by with your drink. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Would you like your tart now or would you like to wait?”

“I’ll wait.” She nodded and smiling, she left. You took a sip of your drink. Nervously, your fiddled with the little plastic sword that held your three cherries.

“Oh, now look at you.”

You looked up at the rich deep voice that always caused your heart to beat harder. And it certainly beat harder, he had dressed in black and gold as well.

He offered a hand. “Allow me you see all of you.”

You could feel as heat raise in your cheeks. You took his gloved hand as you slid from behind the table. Once you were free of the table, he twirled you. When he stopped, you were against him. One of your hands came to rest gently on his chest, his magnificent black and gold suit jacket looked even better up close and one of his arms was around your waist holding you to him.

He smiled down at you. “I caught you.” His face was inches from yours.

“You have a habit of doing that.”

The rest of the club faded away. All you saw was his dark blue eyes, the waves of his black hair and soft expression his mouth had taken.

“I hope I always can.” He swallowed, his face moved closer and then he stopped. “Shall we sit?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Neither of you moved. “I had better let you go.”

His arm finally loosen and you, slid back behind the table.

Smoothing, his jacket and unbuttoning it he slid in. He patted the space beside him. “Don’t sit so far away.”

Flushing you moved back so now, you were beside him. He patted your thigh, “Much better.” He smiled, and his hand came to rest on your thigh when waitress walked up with his drink.

You barely noticed her looking your way. “Would you like your tart now?”

He squeezed your thigh, as he looked between the two of you. His smiled curled to the one side. “Yes, I believe she would. Right, Y/N?”

Hearing him, distracted you from the feel of his hand on your thigh. “Oh? Yes, yes please.” You smiled and nervously you took a sip of your drink.

Once the waitress was gone, he dragged his hand away and took a hold of his own drink. In a very short time, once again the conversation between the two of you flowed very easily. You shared a few laughs and smiles as he shared about a few good meetings and you shared how the office secretary had grown intrigued with the note he sent.

He gave you a side long smile before he had taken another sip of his drink. “So are you now the talk of the office?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I could be, I’ll find out tomorrow.”

The waitress showed up with your tart then. “Thank you.” You smiled and soon, dug in.

“So I was thinking, I can really build something.”

You smiled at him sweetly. It was great to see how his eyes were so alit with happiness.

“It’s a great club...” The man walked up then and placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder. His gestures grew with his excitement.

It was never good when he could come over and interrupted your time together. Looking, away you focused on your tart.

“Harley Quinn, has the diamond.” Roman’s hand found your thigh and squeezed. It was so sudden you, swallowed the entire pice of tart you just took.

“And?”

You tried to not pay attention, it was none of your business.

You could barely hear him as he whispered to Roman. “And they disappeared.”

“Fuck!” Roman barked. His hand flew from your thigh, first banging hard into the table making your plate shake. “Fuck!” He barked again as his fist met the table.

You felt as his breathing shallowed with his anger that gripped him. The club, had already silenced with his outburst.

Something horrible had gone down. In the dead silence, where you could have sworn you heard your own heart beat, laughter rang out.

His entire body tightened. “Who is she laughing at?” His voice rasped out. In a smooth move, he left your side.

Sadness with icy fingers wrapped around your heart.

“Is she laughing at me?”

“She is.”

You could not believe what you heard him say to Roman. Why was he lying. You tried to grab Roman’s arm. “No, she’s not. She’s....” he was across the room in no time.

You closed your eyes and frowned, why had he lied to Roman. You tried to look away, and you did for most of it. Your poured out to him. You k know it shouldn’t you didn’t think he could ever be that cruel. That wasn’t the man you knew. His right hand man pushed him, something happened and he just made it worse.

You could get up, go to the ladies room and freshen up. You could come back and perhaps, if he thought you had not seen anything things could be ok. You just didn’t know anymore.

Taking a breath, you got up. You were about to walk away, when a hand grabbed your arm.

Turning, you saw Roman’s anguished face and your heart went out to him. Tears filled your eyes. “Where are you going ?” His voice was hoarse.

“I’m, I was going to ladies room.” To managed to stutter out.

“No, no I want you to stay here with me close.” He pulled you to him.

Easily, you wilted in his arms. You were all a jumble. What he did was horrible but you knew it really wasn’t his fault but it hurt seeing him like that.

“You soothe, me.” He pulled back, his blue eyes were filled with remorse and sadness.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You voice shook and as you swallowed the tears back.

“Good.” He continued to move, dance with you.

*****

The following evening, you found yourself walking along the broken founder’s pier. It was a cold and foggy night. Despite how broken it was and how fallen to ruin it was you continued down it.

You really had to collect yourself. You were still completely shattered at what you had seen. Roman, could have the occasional angry outburst. You knew, never to mention his family, they had done him wrong and he pulled himself up and made something of himself.

But what you saw, it shook you. It must have by really been bad what Harley did in order for him to snap like that. You leaned against one of the steadier looking railings.

As a child, your dad had taken you there. He showed you all the founders of Gotham, you still knew them all their names. It used to be a beautiful pier when you were a child.

With a faint smile on your lips, you remembered how one time, you had climbed onto the railing and walked along it. Upon seeing you do it though, your dad panicked. That’s when you had wavered in your confidence. But he caught you, and you clung onto him relieved you had not ended up in ocean.

Screams sliced through the night. You looked in the direction of them. You don’t know why, but you ran toward them.

As you got closer, you could have swear you made out three figures. Two of which were hunched over.

“I’m Harley Fucking Quinn.”

A gunshot exploded in the night. That’s when you saw Roman, and you saw this young girl. Everyone, stopped and looked at you. His grip on the girl loosened but she caught your eye, you don’t know what compelled you but you ran towards her and him. “No!!!!” The words burst from your mouth.

You felt as your foot caught but as it did you somehow managed to reach and you contact with her. You reached, and contacted with her. She let out a scream as she began to fall backwards over the railing, your foot loosened at the last minute and you couldn’t stop. Everything, felt like it slowed down.

Just then arm wrapped and it slammed you down and found yourself looking up at the stars. “I’ll never let you fall.” His raspy voice filled your ear, you smiled despite everything. You felt safe.

A breath later and an explosion, rocked your entire world, no hesitation you clung on to him. You both looked.

“Hey, kid Are you ok?” Harley’s screechy voice hollered. You looked at Roman, but you barely saw him shock, instincts over taking you. The two of you crept and looked over the railing.

“Hey kid!”

“There!” You pointed. You saw someone flopping around in the water. “There.”

“I’m here.” A weak voice traveled up to all of you.

“I’m coming kid.” She looked at the two of you. “This isn’t over Romy.” She said through gritted teeth.

“It never is.” He replied, sounding more tired then anything else.

You watched as her golden overalls faded and obscured into the darkness. Her distant screams were met with others.

As one still slumped backwards, the aging wood creaked underneath the two of you. Distant and indistinct voices traveled up to where the two of you remained.

“We better get out of here.” He finally said.

“Yes.”

******

Neither of you spoke, you simply just numbly followed him up in the elevator. You barely looked around as you found yourself in his penthouse.

With your head finally clearing, you met his eyes and took the wash cloth from him. He sat down on the rim of a very large bathtub. You were washing the blood off his face. It was not long, before the man you had grown to care about. He inhaled sharply when you discovered the cuts.

Gently, he took the washcloth from your hands, “I should clean...” Your voice trailed off as he shook his head.

“They can wait.” His voice, was scratchy. It was as rough as he looked, which broke your heart. “I thought that first night, I could rescue you.” He swallowed. “But tonight, you saved my worthless life.”

The tears that wouldn’t come earlier, finally came. “You’re not worthless.” He looked away. “Hey, you saved me, too.” His eyes met yours but they were as turbulent as an ocean.

“I can’t excuse anything I did or I may do now that since they tried to kill me tonight. I want to be the king of Gotham.” His voice cracked. “When I joined you that one night, and the nights that followed, I..I...felt just like a man, a man who owned a club.”

“You are.” You reached out to him, he flinched.

“You were the only one whoever looked at me and didn’t have fear lingering or disgust in your eyes. That was till the other night. I get angry, my anger blinds me.”

A sigh came from him.

“I have no business even asking, since you now know the monster I can be.”

He pressed his lips together before continuing.

“But, I would you like me to be my girl.” He looked down and when his eyes met yours, they were blue flames. “Fuck, tomorrow they may actually succeed and finish what they couldn’t do tonight. But, I would like to die knowing I had a chance at you being my girl.”

You inhaled, you closed the distance. This time when you reached out and actually cupped his cheek, he did not flinch. Going, up on your tiptoes you did the only thing you could think of. You kissed him.

Pain, ripped through when he pulled back.

“Really?” Was all he said.

“Yes.” You managed to say and tears slide from your eyes.

“Then, I’ll catch you till my dying breath.”

He grabbed you and you clung onto him. With no hesitation your lips finally met. They didn’t part for a very long time.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r @hollywood2k16

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Us and Andie Ch. 2

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Pairing: Bucky x singleparent!Reader

Word Count: 3333 words <<< that has to be lucky!!

Warnings: Nothing. This is a chaotic chapter where Avengers meet Andie and Bucky is just plain worried. 

Next chapter has Bucky and Reader interacting! It seems someone has to tell Y/N what her kid has been up to all day.

This IS in response to @buckyssoul’s writing challenge! But the dialogue hasn’t been used yet. XD

Three days.

Three days avoiding the subway…staying at the compound…and not even setting foot in Brooklyn. So much for returning to routine.

If anyone in the compound noticed, they didn’t say anything. However, he could tell Sam and Steve were dying to every time he stepped into the same room. But he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about Andie or her mother. He wanted to forget they existed. And the lengths he would go to consisted of several hours in the gym, blaring music when he was alone, trying to watch movies as a distraction. Nothing worked. So desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You never want to go running.”

Bucky finished pulling his hoodie over his head, his fingers deftly working to pull his hair out of his face. He glanced back at the door, not sure what he should say to Sam. “Your point?”

“That is my point. You never want to go running. Any time you’re working out – it’s cooped up in that gym.”

“Don’t want me hoggin’ Steve?”

Sam laughed, watching but not commenting as Bucky pulled on his glove. “Hey, I’m still going. There’s no stopping that. I wanted to make sure you’re alright, man. You’ve been around a lot lately.”

He hesitated before quickly shrugging it off. He didn’t want to talk about it. “I just…” Bucky gnawed at his lip, struggling to find the right words. “I need the distraction.”

Sam nodded. It seemed enough was said in so few words. “Well then, let’s go. Steve sent me to grab your ass.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Any chance to tease him, it seemed he would willingly take.

Bucky rolled his eyes, shoving Sam out of the way and closing the door behind him.

“What, no hat?”

He bit the inside of his cheek – the flashing image of a toothy-grinned Andie staring up at him now front and center in his mind. “Not today.”

Here was his problem. Today should have been a good day. In all reality, it was beautiful outside. There were no clouds. It was actually starting to get warm with signs of spring everywhere. And yet, Bucky found himself struggling. He kept thinking back to that little girl.

“Her name’s Y/N.”

He wondered what Y/N had hidden in her locket.

“Bucky, you listening?”

He blinked, looking back at Steve and Sam. They had just finished their seventh mile. But not at the compound. No, Steve had decided that Bucky needed to get out. So here they were. In Central Park. He glanced down at the coffee in his hand. That’s what they were doing now. Breakfast.

Made sense. Nice day meant they should stay out longer, right?

And it was. It was a nice day. It was meant to be a good day. So why did he feel like something was missing?

“I didn’t know Peter had a sister.”

Bucky frowned at Steve’s comment. He turned in the direction he and Sam were looking and noticed that Peter was hanging out with a couple kids closer to his age. But then there was someone else. Someone a little younger, a little scrawnier.

With that damn hat on her head.

Clenching his jaw, he shoved aside that hopeful feeling in his chest. Why did that damn kid keep getting that reaction?

She looked better than when he saw her a couple days ago. And it was a relief. He would never admit it out loud, but he’d been worried about Andie. She’d been such a mess on the subway…

She already has a shitty role model for a dad. You really think you’d be any better?

The truth was, he didn’t know if her dad was horrible. Hell, all he knew was that he didn’t do something she wanted, so she ran to her mom.

It’s not your problem.

“I’m goin’ back to the compound,” he told them. Turning on his heel, he walked away before even giving a chance for Sam and Steve to ask him why.

The two shared a look. Something was off with Bucky, but the idea of asking and getting a real answer was near impossible. Sam asked, “You want to talk to him?”

“Not right now. He needs space. Bucky…” Steve sighed. “Bucky always talks to me when he’s ready.”

“Seventy years later and you’re still so sure?”

“Kind of have to be.”

“Captain! Sam!”

The two looked up simultaneously, their faces something similar to two kids caught scheming to get cookies. Why? They hadn’t done anything wrong.

But they hadn’t exactly expected Peter to be waving them over.

“Hey, Peter.” Steve chuckled as Peter threw the ball again. The kid he was with ran backwards, jumping up and catching it.

“Who’s your friend, Web-head?”

Peter’s ears turned a bright pink at the nickname. He didn’t mind keeping his identity a secret. In fact, the teenager preferred it that way. But it still didn’t stop Sam from giving him ridiculously obvious nicknames to his alter ego. He quickly turned his head, catching the ball moments before it could collide with and break his nose. “That’s Andie.”

“Your sister?”

Peter glanced at Steve and shook his head, throwing the ball again. “No, I’m an only kid.”

“So what, superhero gig ain’t paying enough?”

He laughed at that, stumbling over the words to explain why he was hanging out with a kid so much younger than him. “Aunt May and I take care of her when her mom is working.”

“What’s her mom do?”

“She’s a nurse over in Brooklyn. Today was supposed to be a day off for her, but she had to pick up an extra shift.”

Brooklyn? The two soldiers seemed to gain more curiosity over that. Was Andie the reason Bucky had taken off or was it an insane coincidence?

“She a good kid?”

“Oh, definitely. You two don’t mind meeting her?” When they shrugged, Peter called out, “Andie, get over here! I got some guys over here that want to meet you!”

Andie paused and, in that moment, both men noticed the hat on her head. It looked an awful lot like a certain soldier’s. There was no way there were that many coincidences. Right?

“Hi.”

They jumped, looking down at her. How did a kid manage to sneak up on two Avengers?

Steve took in her hat. It was frayed around the edges, the color faded – he would bet money it belonged to his best friend.

But Sam was looking at her shirt, brow raised. That was not a girl’s shirt. It was a t-shirt of all the Avengers, clearly meant for boys, but she didn’t seem to care. And neither did he. What had his attention was the various sharpie décor that covered each Avenger’s face. In multiple colors, he might add. “Looks like someone got a little creative with their clothes, Cap,” Sam teased, earning a wrinkled nose and laugh from the girl.

Tony’s Iron-man suit had a curly moustache on it.

Thor had a pink bow in his hair.

Clint was given a rainbow mane and what he guessed was a…unicorn horn?

Spiderman had rainbow doodles all over his uniform.

Hulk had a Devil tail and horns to contrast with added Angel wings and halo.

The only ones untouched? Natasha. Steve. Sam. And Bucky.

No wonder Peter wanted them to meet her.

“Avenger fan, huh?” Steve crouched in front of her as she tilted her cap up.

Loose strands fell from her braid as she offered a shrug. “I like Bucky. He’s cool.”

“I resent that statement,” Sam said, crossing his arms.

Andie giggled. “I know. But that’s okay – Nurse Jones thinks you’re cute.”

“Oh, does she now?” Sam knelt to her side, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. He was always willing to hear about a Falcon fan.

Peter smiled at the sight. Knowing how much this would mean to Y/N, he pulled out his phone and snapped a couple photos. None of them noticed, but if they did, they didn’t acknowledge it.

“Yeah. I think Bucky scared her when they met.”

“Wait, Bucky met your friend?” Steve raised an eyebrow, doing everything he could to keep himself from smiling. It seemed all of their curiosities were being confirmed just by this girl’s bluntness.

“I want to keep her,” Sam whispered to Steve, earning a swat on the arm.

What he hadn’t expected was for the hit to come from Andie.

She raised an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips. “Do I look like a pet to you?”

Sam felt his heart was ready to burst. Oh, this kid was priceless. Looking at Steve, he asked, “Please, can we at least take her back to the compound to meet the others?”

Her eyes lit up at that. “Can I meet Black Widow?”

“Oh, I can guarantee she’s going to want to meet you,” Sam assured her. He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Peter. “What do you think, Pete? Want to show our new friend where your internship’s at?”

Peter couldn’t hide his smile even if he wanted to. “Absolutely.”

--

It had only been a handful of hours since Bucky had left Steve and Sam at Central Park and God, he just wanted this day to end already. The longer he went without crossing paths with a certain dorky kid, the better off he’d be. But no. With all the people living in New York City, it was obvious that he would run into one eleven-year-old not once, but twice in less than a week. Because it was obvious. It was logical.

Because God hated him. That was why.

Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he struggled to let the music blaring in his earbuds to simply distract him. That was all he needed. A good old-fashioned distraction.

He missed the days when he could get drunk. He really did.

Shuffling and thundering feet outside the door were felt more so than heard as Bucky stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he stared hard enough it would cave in? No, he wasn’t that lucky. Then it came again. Heavy footsteps whose vibrations he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to. What the hell?

Bucky sat up, glancing at the door and seeing several shadows cross quickly underneath. What was going on?

A banging on the door made him jump. Steve’s voice shouting for him was enough to drag him out of bed. He yanked open the door, running a hand through his hair. Why did Steve look so guilty?

“What’d you do?”

“Uh…” He smiled, trying to look innocent, but failing miserably. This guy was going to send him to an early grave. “We need your help.”

Or was it a late grave at this point? He was a hundred.

“We?” Brow furrowing, Bucky asked, “What did you do?”

“You remember Peter and his friend at the park?”

Andie. Bucky’s shoulders tensed. Recognition flashed in his eyes and Steve knew he was going to get an earful later. But that could wait. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “What about her?”

“She needed to go to the bathroom and – “

“She?”

“Andie.”

“You brought her here,” Bucky asked, voice thundering in the corridor.

“Yes! But that’s not the issue right now.” Steve huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose before finally looking at Bucky. “We can’t find her.”

“You brought her here and lost her?”

“Sam wanted to introduce her to the rest of the team. I didn’t see it being a problem and you gave her your hat – “

“I was helping her home. That’s all that was.” Bucky slammed his door shut behind him. Running down the hall, he knew Steve was on his heels.

They stepped into the kitchen as Bucky wondered how the hell this could have happened. “You brought a kid to the Avengers Compound. There are weapons here! And people with PTSD. She could get hurt! Not to mention Tony’s lab that has God-knows-what in it.”

Steve watched Bucky, amusement flitting across his eyes. He was used to his friend being calm, cool, collected. He’d never seen Bucky so vocal. So worried and, dare he say, protective. Not since the 40’s at least.

“We’ll find her, Buck.”

“Before or after she pisses off the Hulk?”

Steve froze at that thought. He hadn’t even thought about Bruce. Surely a kid wouldn’t scare him, right?

But then again…Andie was extremely quiet and sneaky.

“I have Nat searching the training room. Clint’s covering the bedrooms. Sam and Peter are checking the grounds.”

“What about Bruce?”

“He’s meditating. Maybe it’d be best to leave him out of this one?”

Bucky nodded. If he was meditating, he was on the roof in his own little sanctuary. Surely Andie wouldn’t find her way up there. “Tony?”

“He’s locked up in his lab. We shouldn’t have to worry about her getting there.”

“Let’s keep him out of this. I really don’t want a lecture from the great Tony Stark,” Bucky muttered.

“It’s not exactly your fault. He wouldn’t blame you.”

“Tony blames me every chance he gets.”

Steve frowned, knowing it was true. Tony, though willing to let Bucky join the Avengers, still hadn’t forgiven him for his parents. It would take time and Steve was sure it would happen eventually, but Tony was extremely talented at holding a grudge. Clasping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he squeezed gently. “Wanda and Vision are out on a date and Thor’s off doing whatever he does. Just leaves us. We can check the garage and weapons facility.”

Bucky nodded. “Let’s go.” He couldn’t shake that worried feeling settling in his gut. He’d barely spent any time with this kid. By the sounds of it, the rest of the team had gotten to know her for a lot longer. So why was he so damn concerned?

As the two stepped out of the room, the glass doors to the kitchen shut with a ‘hiss’. Without even thinking about it, they hung a left, quickly forgetting about the room they had just been in.

It was quiet.

And completely empty.

Or so they had thought.

Andie came wandering in from where the kitchen’s tv and couch were set up. The place had too many rooms, but it seemed she had just been on the couch, sleeping. The only thing that had made the room oblivious to her was the back of the couch.

With every step she took, her body shimmered, turning invisible and revealing what was visible through her. She grabbed one of the barstools, dragging it to the kitchen counter as she let out a loud yawn. Her stomach rumbled as she climbed up, searching the cabinets for something to eat.

It took two cabinets to find something she deemed ‘good’. Turning around, she sat on the edge of the counter and popped open the large bag of peanut butter M&Ms. Shoving a handful in her mouth, she took in the fact that the room was completely empty.

Tilting her head, she called out, “Hello?”

Shrugging, she closed the cabinets and grabbed the barstool before putting it back where she found it. Her mom did teach her how to clean up after herself after all. Especially as a guest. Tucking the M&Ms under her arm, she wandered out the same door Bucky and Steve had gone.

Except she went right.

Another ‘hiss’ from the closing doors and a shuffling of feet were followed. Bruce entered from the other side of the room, wearing baggy sweatpants and a loose shirt. He looked like he had rolled out of bed. He took in the kitchen, the room he was used to seeing everybody in, and scratched the back of his head. “Where is everybody?”

---

The sun was setting outside, making Bucky even more nervous. How pissed would Y/N be if they lost her child? Probably a lot. Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he stepped into the foyer. Steve was right behind him and they both saw Peter and Sam heading their way. Peter ran ahead, panic clear in his features. Poor kid was probably as worried as Bucky was. And it was clear, they hadn’t found her.

“Any word from Nat or Clint,” Sam asked, jogging up to them.

“No sign of her.”

“How can one kid outsmart a whole team of Avengers?” Sam was clearly impressed, but that tone in his voice earned a glare from Bucky. He wasn’t impressed. Far from it. He was ready to shake some damn sense into that girl. The worry he had for Y/N’s concern was getting closer to frustration. Who raises a kid who just runs off and hides? He wanted to talk to her mother about raising the kid with some common sense. Good, decent common sense like not hiding from a team of Avengers.

“She has to be here somewhere. The grounds are massive, but she’s a kid. It’s not like she can drive.”

“Please, don’t put that image in my head, Steve.”

“Look, Ms. Y/L/N keeps calling and texting. I can only let it go to voicemail so many times, guys,” Peter said, voice cracking. He genuinely enjoyed looking after Andie when he wasn’t going to school or “Avengering”. She was a good kid. Normally at least. “We really need to find her. Please.”

“What do you think we’ve been trying to do,” Bucky huffed.

Peter took a step back, not wanting to piss off Bucky. Sam patted him on the back. Even if Peter irritated him from time to time, it wasn’t the kid’s fault. “Don’t be hard on him, Barnes. I take responsibility for this.”

“We all do,” Steve added.

Um…gentlemen?

F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Everyone was silent.

“Why didn’t we ask F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

Mr. Stark says it’s because you’re idiots. However, he does ask that you come join him in the lab.

They all shared a look. Did…Did Tony find Andie?

It didn’t take long for them to cross the compound. It seemed everyone was rather efficient when they weren’t panicking. Even Natasha and Clint had joined them, wanting to make sure that Andie was found and safely taken home. But Bucky was the one leading the way. He had to make sure that Andie was alright. He didn’t understand it, but he had to. He just…he had to.

Stepping into the lab, he looked everywhere. Several desks and works-in-progress littered tables and the floor. Some were even hung up. It made it impossible to see everything or even find Tony. He really had upgraded since moving from Stark Tower and Bucky hadn’t exactly made it his mission to come to this part of the compound.

“Over here, guys,” Tony called.

Everyone spun around. There, working on his newest suit, was Tony. He spun in his chair, waving a wrench as a sign of ‘hello’ before pointing to the nearby desk.

There, with chocolate covering her mouth, was Andie. She was throwing M&Ms into the air, catching them in her mouth before throwing them to –

Bruce.

He cheered when he caught one, high-fiving Andie before he saw that the rest of the gang had joined them. “Hey, guys! Look who I found.”

Andie glanced over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up when she spotted Bucky. His shoulders visibly relaxed when he saw that smile of hers. “Hi, Bucky!” She quickly turned back around, throwing another M&M in the air. Bruce caught it, falling out of his chair with a loud ‘thud’.

“That’s 15 to 14 now,” Bruce told her, pointing a finger as he fixed the chair.

“So…” Peter, Steve, and Sam all looked in Tony’s direction, but Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes off Andie. Relief was clear in his now relaxed features, but he might be a little worried she would pull another disappearing act. But that wasn’t what was important to Tony. Not right now at least. No, he was more curious about one thing in particular. “Mind telling me whose idea this was?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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@mr-robot-x  @lets--be-honest​

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[hitsuackerman]

A Different Hashira (Giyu x Reader) pt 5

Here is the part 5 of A Different Hashira

You can click here for part 1 :)

You can click here for part 2 :)

You can click here for part 3 :)

You can click here for part 4 :)

- - - - -

Attempted Conversations

Despite the fact that you failed in extracting knowledge as to what his favorite food was, the two of you still enjoyed the simple lunch of tempura and soba. It was a miracle that you knew just how much spices you needed to put since Giyu had such particular taste.

"Are you in the mood to talk, Tomioka-san?"

"Mhmm."

Taking your eyes off of the tempura, you stared at the messy haired hashira. He was wearing a white undershirt and his pants. Though this time, he was barefoot.

"How was your mission?"

"It was successful. I met up with Kochou and she assisted me." He slurped his soba and proceeded "A dog bit me as well."

"Huh?" Putting your bowl down, you scooted towards him and extended a hand. Half expecting he would reject it.

Staring at you with stuffed cheeks, he placed his chopsticks down and gave you his bandaged hand. Inspecting it a little, you saw the messy of a job was done in wrapping up the injury. Knowing that Shinobu would never make something that horrendous, you could only deduce that it was him who did it.

"This was done... very badly, Tomioka-san."

Taking his hand from yours, he grabbed his chopsticks and continued eating. You sighed and stood up. With big steps, you went to your room and grabbed your first aid box. Though you were not as skilled as Shinobu when it comes to medicine, you were an expert at wrapping bandages. Admittedly, it had been a while since you last bandaged your hand. Hopefully, your hands still remembered what to do.

Seeing you carrying a first aid kit, Giyu stopped eating and waited for you to begin the small procedure.

Carefully unwrapping the bandage, you felt how calloused his fingers were. You didn't know how old he was but your estimation was around 18 or 19 years old. Asking him would be pushing it and he might just stand up and leave you alone.

Seeing that there was a faint bite mark, you couldn't help but giggle at the picture of an emotionless man being bitten by a dog.

"What?"

Your thoughts were cut when his voice cut the silence between you.

"I was just thinking how you looked like when the dog bit you." A smile escaped your mouth. Looking up, you saw him staring at you with such dead pan eyes. He looked annoyed but in reality, he looked like a child. Your smile only grew  even larger causing him to sigh in defeat.

A few minutes passed and you were pleased with your handy work.

"There you go! Much better and definitely cleaner too."

"Thank you."

Crawling your way back to your seat, you picked up your bowl and continued to eat. A slight breeze found it's way to the two of you. Instantly, the two of you relaxed. The two of you had been on long journey's and the breeze was a much needed energy booster.

"Your left palm? What happened?"

"Hmm?" You replied with food in your mouth this time.

"I noticed a healed laceration on it."

"Very observant. Yes, it is a healed laceration. As to how I got it, only time will give you the answer, Tomioka-san."

Now that the two of you finished sharing lunch, Giyu silently offered to wash the dishes once more. Thanking him, you cleaned the table and set it aside. Now that the receiving area was empty, you lazily flopped to the ground and inhaled the fresh air passing through the engawa.

"Care to join me?" You invited Giyu to lay down on the tatami mats.

"No."

"Suit yourself."

Hearing his footsteps go up the stairs, the tranquility was cut by the caws of your raven and his crow. Landing beside you, the two birds looked at each other and nodded.

"(F/N) (L/N) and Giyu Tomioka. Head northwest. Village with reports of demon. Leave tomorrow. " Karasutori announced.

"So much for peace, ey?" You hummed while petting the head of both birds. Both of them responded by bowing their heads even more. Telling them to wait, you went back inside the kitchen and gave them each some bread crumbs. The moment they left, you headed to your room to get ready for the mission to come.

As the sun was setting, you had just finished preparing the necessary items. Hoping that there would be a Wisteria house there, you only brought some bandages and cash. Any more than that would become a hindrance when fighting off demons.

The question now was, which sword you would have to bring with you on the mission. With zero details to go on, it would be a risk to bring a jagged sword. Telling yourself to pay Tecchikawahara a visit, you stored the blue Nichirin blade and brought out the black sheathed one from your closet. Taking a cloth, you wiped off any traces of dust and placed it beside your futon.

Hopefully, this demon would have no need to let you use any breathing techniques. It did cross your mind that this would be the perfect time to show Giyu what kind of pillar you were, but you made a pact with yourself. Only use it in times of need.

Standing up, you changed into your uniform's skirt and a plain white shirt. Too lazy to cook dinner, you headed to the butterfly estate. There you killed time till you fell asleep

- -

Going back to your estate in the early hours of your dawn, you savored the chilly morning breeze accompanied with all of nature's sound. Regretting not bringing along your haori, you walked a pace faster till you saw the familiar building emerge from the wisteria trees. A carving of tidal waves were now visible on the wooden gates.

Opening them, you were greeted with a meditating Giyu with tea cups beside him.

Walking up to him, you sat on the engawa. Your eyes focused on the steaming cup of tea. Sipping on it, you felt energized and ready to start the mission. Comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. Thanking him for the tea, you stood up to ready yourself for the mission.

Moments later, the two of you were now walking towards the Northwestern village.

Inside you, you were dying to initiate conversation. You were so used to having Misturi or Kyojuro talking their hearts out as you headed to your assigned places. The person you were teaming up with gave you nothing but silence. Would he be annoyed if you kept talking about random things till you reached the village? Would an exchange happen? Or just nods and hums? Sulking it up, you began to tread the waters.

"Uh, what kind of demon do you think we'll find?"

"Not sure yet."

"When did you start learning water breathing, Tomioka-san?"

"A few years back."

"What was it like, training with Urokodaki-sensei?"

"Never let him drink alcohol."

"Wait, what?"

You stopped walking as you processed the tidbit of information you had just received. In all your years with Urokodaki, you had never once seen him drink anything other than tea and water. A mental image of him drinking was harder than learning your own 10th form of breathing. Catching up to Giyu, you matched his pace once more.

Regretting that you stopped the momentum of the conversation, you stared at him once more. You noticed how his cheeks were a little bit more fuller. The dark circles around his eyes were still there, though. He had his fair share of sleepless nights, too. Mentally, you took note to buy some lavender to help him get some goodnight's rest.

By the time the two of you arrived in the village, the sun was now setting. Looking for an inn or a Wisteria house, you stumbled upon the latter. The family gladly took the both of you in but only had one room to offer. Graciously accepting it, the two of you sat down on the only futon available and rested your legs after a day's worth of walking.

"Shall we take turns in patrolling the area?" You offered.

"That's fine. Rest for now. I'll start."

Before you could say another word, Giyu vanished. Not bothering to get up, you plopped onto the futon and took a nap. Just as you felt your body give in, there was a knock on the door. You sat yourself up as you told them to enter. Upon seeing their smiling faces, you were greeted with 2 sets of mouth watering food.

With no one else to talk to, you invited the woman to sit down and chat.

"Do you have any idea what kind of demon is running lose?"

"Very faint, but I heard that the demon only eats those in their teens and late twenties. Some people also report that they find large holes around the forest. Holes enough for a full grown person to hide in."

"I see. When was the last time there was a sighting?"

"About 3 days ago. By the ramen shop."

"Around what time? Would you know?"

The girl touched her chin and tried to think about the conversation she had.

"They say it was around 10pm."

"Alright. Thanks for the information, uhh, may I have your name again?" You scratched your head awkwardly at forgetting the name of your host.

"Ayumi." She replied with a smile.

"Thank you, Ayumi-san. You should rest now, I'll be patrolling in a few minutes time."

After you finished eating, she took your set of bowls and dishes. Leaving Giyu's meal in case he would feel hungry when he returns. Laying back down on the futon, you yawned and waited for the return of your partner. You closed your eyes to make use of the time.

You woke up with start when you felt the futon move slightly. Giyu had returned. Examining him, he looked clean and calm, as always.

"Anything happened?" Rubbing your eyes as you asked him.

"None."

"Aight, Imma head out now. You- oh you already ate, good." Standing up, you took your blade and bid farewell.

- - - - -

a/n:

so... this was... yeah xD sorry if this chapter sucks but author-chan still has to build things up a bit ;) doncha worry, there will be action in the next upload. i also hope that ya'll felt that this chapter was quite awkward since its usually awkward around our bibi boi Giyu~ (save if your Tanjirou because, yeah he's who he is 😂 )

Also... I tend to update this late here in tumblr so if you guys want the link to the story :) feel free to message me :D this is actually chapter 5 out of 16 (currently)

[sumisuchan]

First Name Basis Ch.1

Hey y’all just thought I should post this to Tumblr as well, but here’s the link to the ao3 for people who are more interested in that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889923/chapters/62913253 

I don’t know what to say for myself other than I love Kaiba and Jounouchi, and I hope you enjoy this fic <3 Also feel free to leave me a comment. I cherish all of them forever.  

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

It was a quiet winter morning, the second Monday of January, when Mokuba pushed open the double doors to Seto’s room. However silent he tried to be, they still scraped across the hardwood floor. He had cast a light that shot from the hallway to envelop Seto’s figure in bed, buried beneath a plush comforter.

“Seto — ” Mokuba tried to keep his voice low, leaning culpably against one of the doors. “I'm going to head out.”

Without throwing off the comforter, Seto rose as if accused. The pale morning light made him squint. “I thought I was taking you.”

“I know, but I was going to meet a friend a little bit early. I'll meet you there, I promise.”

“But it's snowing,” Seto laid his head back down. Even with centralized heating, the air was cold. His alarm clock read 6:46 a.m., which made the comforter seem warmer and the mattress more generous.

The door clicked softly shut again. Seto had lost. He closed his eyes and let Mokuba go, the bed’s hold too strong to break. Maybe he would wake at 8:00, or 8:05, or 8:10...

***

It was 8:15 when Seto had hit snooze for the third time, and had finally managed to sit up. He opened the curtains behind him to a chalky sky and a Domino City winterscape, draped in snow. It even obscured the faraway mountains whose dark grey bodies wore pure white caps. Seto sighed visibly into the glass. Another harsh one.

Seto ate, washed, and dressed, finding himself in a partially cloudy bathroom mirror. He had put a sharp white suit over a blue shirt speckled with gold, and fixated upon the second gray hair he had found that month. He leaned in, making the mirror fog up more. Though his hair was still a little damp, there it was — front and center, mocking him.

Seto straightened himself out, turned the bathroom light off, and went downstairs. He could see from the top of the staircase that Mokuba had taken the kimono from its resting place upon the front room sofa—garment bag and all, his geta disappearing from the entrance evidence that it hadn't been just a dream.

***

The traffic to the ceremony was hell. Every damn car in Domino City had congested the roads leading to town hall, each of them progressing only about a meter before stopping again. Snow fell as a light powder, dusting the shoulders of young men and women dressed in expensive suits and long-sleeve kimono. Seto estimated that at least 3/4 of them were rentals. Their parents walked alongside them, shielding them from the snow with clear convenience-store umbrellas, and Seto realized that he had forgotten one himself.

Finally, his driver reached town hall and held open the car door. Parents, brothers, sisters, cousins, who had come to support their own twenty-year-olds, all seemed to turn around at once, then double take. “Isn't that Kaiba Seto?” They whispered too loudly as he passed them. Seto was certain he could feel someone's phone camera pointed at his back as he entered. His watch read 10:37. The ceremony would start soon.

***

The mayor, a slightly overweight man in a gray, cheap-looking suit took the stage, adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat. Several rows of newly-minted adults straightened their backs and lifted their heads. The entire auditorium stopped talking, and the mayor preemptively set his short-fingered hands on the podium. For the final time, he adjusted his legs, shoulder-width apart. Seto noticed a bald spot at the very back of his head, bordered by thinning white hair.

“Everyone, thank you for attending today's ceremony — ” He spoke in a coarse voice.

Seto began searching the first three rows for Mokuba. The young men and women had formed clusters, some still chatting quietly to one another. They made a patchwork quilt of solid black suits and explosions of flowers in red, white, and gold.

Mokuba would be in white. He had insisted. “I'm going to wear a suit for the rest of my life, but I'll probably have far fewer opportunities to wear a kimono.” So Seto took him shopping at one of the most expensive boutiques in Domino City, their winter line of handmade kimono on display. Most of them were furisode — sleeves to the floor and soaked in snow flowers, chrysanthemums, tsubaki .

Mokuba looked uncomfortable. He tensed at the extremely attentive sales assistant, who asked them in exquisite keigo what they needed. He tensed even more when Seto replied bluntly, “he needs an outfit for coming of age day.” He tensed while they brought out the entire cavalry of men's kimono — admittedly plainer than the women's, but just as elegant. Almost all of them bore complex patterns that fit seamlessly into their solid black or white fabrics, allegedly handmade. The shopkeeper ran her hand over each of them as if playing an instrument. It was genuinely surprising when they didn't respond with a musical phrase.

“You’re more than welcome to try on any one that you like, and one of our male employees can help you dress if you require assistance.” She had nearly reached the end of her, “please take your time,” when Mokuba pointed to the one on the very end.

“Uh — that white one looks nice.”

“Oh,” the shopkeeper had to walk to the far end of the table to reach it. “Do you mean this one, sir? Would you like to try it on?”

“Sure. Yes, I can try it on.”

Without prompting, yet another attentive male employee rushed over to lead him to the dressing room. “Please follow me this way, sir.” Seto got a glimpse of the kimono. No discernible pattern. Nothing extra. Just white silk adorned with the shop’s brand insignia embroidered in gold at the end of the sleeves.

Mokuba left the dressing room without the kimono on, yet claimed that he wanted that one. When Seto asked him if he was certain, he only nodded and tensed even more once Seto paid one million yen in cash straight from his wallet.

From his place in the third row of guest seating, Seto searched for that kimono, the stark white against both plain black and noisy flower patches, and found him sitting amongst a group of young women. One of them whispered something to him and Mokuba turned around, missing his shoulder-length hair. Sometime that morning he had gotten it cut. The woman at his side adjusted his bangs, giggling. She said something. “You look like your brother,” Seto imagined. Mokuba pulled away, brushed it off. That must have been it.

***

The ceremony ended and its attendants came gasping into the freezing winter air. The families occupied the bottom of the staircase as their children emerged at the top, posing in formation for pictures.

Mokuba had found a place in the second row, his hands at his side for the first serious photo and then with his tongue out and fingers forming a heart for the silly one. The same girl from earlier in a red kimono and thick-rimmed glasses made bunny ears above his head — something he would find later when they received the photos. They posed for one more before the crowd dispersed and Mokuba turned to her before coming downstairs. He must have promised to rejoin her, but then met eyes with Seto and began his descent.

Finally, Seto witnessed the full body of his kimono, its white sleeves and gray pants making him resemble the snow-covered mountains in the distance. He treaded so carefully down the steps, responsible with his new-seeming long legs, but he had been chipping away toward Seto’s height for a while. That fact hit especially hard when Mokuba ran to embrace him. His long strides had brought him so smoothly.

Someone snapped a picture.

“How did you manage to get a haircut?” Seto asked, maintaining his balance. “Every salon in the city must have been booked.”

“They were.” Mokuba set his hands on top of  Seto’s shoulders, negotiating himself against the icy sidewalk, “but I had reserved my appointment months ago. I wanted to surprise you. I guess…” He paused, touching the back of his head. “I didn't realize how much I would resemble you.”

“It suits you,” Seto said. “You look grown up.”

Mokuba smiled but furrowed his brows. Someone shouted, “Kaiba- san ! May I please take a picture of you and Mokuba?” and someone else added, “to commemorate the occasion!”

Seto, who would normally have walked away, turned toward the crowd. He put his hand upon Mokuba’s back and found it to be rigid. Yet, Mokuba smiled for them. There would be articles written whether he did or didn't, so he chose to be pleasant. He grinned into the flashing lights, into a future of magazines that would compare their heights, their faces, weigh their fortune, pondering if Mokuba had found a girlfriend yet and commenting on the fact that Seto never had. It would be a thing for months until it wasn't at all, until something else happened, and the cycle would start over.

Seto felt Mokuba inflate with a sigh that no one would notice. He had become so good at letting it deflate slowly from his nose that only someone standing as close as Seto would hear it.

He called off the pictures and they loaded into the car, leaving barely enough time for Mokuba to wave to the young woman he had left up on the staircase.

[bkwrm523]

Grooming Habits

Title: Grooming Habits Rating: Explicit Pairing: Eobard Thawne/reader Word Count: 1882 Warnings: smut, a daddy kink or two Tags:  @mysupernaturalfics @cookingglitterfairy @kittenofdoomage @catsoftheapocalypse @medicatemedrmccoy  @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @mrswhozeewhatsis @daughterofthebrowncoats @nellethiel-aranel @musikat18 Summary: Eobard is about to shave his beard off, but you may have an objection to that Author’s Note: Sooooo, I rewatched Flashpoint and had some Feels about Eobard’s beard.  Then this happened.

You knew the words were a mistake as soon as they’d left your mouth.  Honestly, you didn’t realize you were even saying it until too late.  It had just… happened.

There was a very long moment of silence.  The sound of Eobard’s electric razor clicked off, and you held your breath waiting for his reply.

Finally, his head poked out of the bathroom (after his story of what Barry had done to him, you’d refused to touch him until he took a shower), analyzing you with a puzzled frown.  You stared back at him with wide eyes, trying with limited success to look innocent.  Keep your eyes on his, and not the beard covering his jaw was a struggle.  He was wearing a pair of black pants that may or may not have belonged to his speedster suit, and a plain white tshirt.

“What was that?”  Eobard asked, his voice smooth and bemused.

“Uhhhhh…. Nothing!”  You exclaimed, your voice miraculously not breaking.

“No, no.”  Eobard replied.  He turned back into the bathroom for a moment, before stepping out into the hallway and walking slowly towards you.  The puzzled frown deepened into the look he got when he was working on a mystery.  “You definitely said something.”

“Uhhmm…”

“I think you suggested I keep the beard.”

You stammered again, standing and taking a couple steps back from him as he grew closer.  You couldn’t look at his face, didn’t want to see the smirk curling the edges of his lips.  You heard the whoosh of him running, and he was instantly right in front of you.

Cheater.

Eobard cupped your chin with one hand, pushing your face up to meet his gaze.  As you suspected, he was smirking at you.  “Do you like my beard, y/n?”

“I - it - uhm, I, uh…”

You didn’t make it to actual words; Eobard stopped your mouth with a kiss.

You gave a soft, involuntary moan into his lips.  You felt his beard scratching against your face as his tongue pushed into your mouth.  Different than your usual kisses, but not what you’d been daydreaming about.

The hand on your cheek moved to cup the back of your head, holding you gently as he kissed you fiercely.  Eobard growled a little, pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall.  Your breath caught, and a whine escaped your lips.  You clung to him, unable to do anything but hold on as your wits all fled your body.  Eobard’s free arm rested on the wall next to your head, and he leaned into you, pressing every inch of his body against yours.  The kiss grew more aggressive, and he started nipping.  You kept making little, involuntary noises with every nip, and every noise only seemed to inflame him more.  He leaned more into you, his hips rocking against yours, until you could feel his erection growing.

When Eobard finally broke from your lips, all you could do was cling to your grip on his shirt and gasp for breath.  You got one gasp in before his mouth was on your neck, and you nearly went cross-eyed.

This was hardly the first time you’d felt Eobard’s mouth on your neck, but it was definitely the first time he’d had a beard for it.  You could feel his beard scratch against every nerve in your neck, and your brain simply exploded with sensation.  Your knees nearly gave out.  You would have leaned on him, but he already had you pressed tightly between him and the wall, easily supporting your weight.

He may have been biting you again, but you couldn’t be sure given the way his beard felt against your skin.  He growled again, and you made an indescribable noise.  You dropped your head onto his shoulder and whined, his hips’ constant grinding against yours making you squirm helplessly.  You gasped his name, grinding back into him.  You heard a growl from your neck, and he bit your sensitive skin.  It didn’t hurt, but sucked away your ability to move, and all you could do was cling to him and moan.  Eobard’s hips shifted, and he pushed a thigh between your legs, right against your crotch.

His leg started vibrating.

You cried out wordlessly, burying on hand in his hair, and digging the nails of your other hand into his back.  You ground against his vibrating leg, drawing close to the edge with alarming speed.  You tried to cry his name, but you couldn’t manage anything intelligible.  Your hips rocked against his leg of their own accord, and you bit his shoulder to stifle your cries.

A hand buried in your hair and yanked your head back up.  Evidently, he didn’t want you stifling anything.

Eobard thrust his clothed erection against your leg as his vibrating leg ground against your pussy, shielded by layers of clothes.  You stammered his name, trying to fight the orgasm you could feel rising.  Eobard bit your neck, drawing a strangled groan out of you.

Your orgasm swept over you like a wave.  Your arms involuntarily clenched around him, your throat shutting out any escaping noise.  You tried to cry his name, but no words came out.  Wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed your brain, and you writhed uncontrollably in his arms until he let you down.

The vibrating leg finally stopped, and he pulled back from your neck.  You went limp in his arms, panting whining softly.  Eobard supported you, lifting you in his arms and nuzzling you as he carried you through the room.

Your back hit the bed, as Eobard gently laid you on top of the blankets.  He sped on top of you, his arms on either side of your shoulders supporting his weight, and nuzzled your face.

“Still with me, kitten?”  Eobard murmured softly.

“Eobard,” you groaned, exhausted.  He smirked, and you would have hit him if you’d had control of your limbs.  The most you managed was a soft ‘mmf’ of protest as he kissed you again.  His body moved against yours as he kissed you, his hips grinding into yours, and the rest of him trying to crawl as close to you as possible.

There was a blur of yellow, and a moment or two later you were naked on the bed.  Eobard loomed over you, and your brain short circuited at the glimpse of his cock, huge and erect, before he was on you.  His bare skin warmed yours, chasing away the chill of the room.

“Cheater.”  You grumbled.

“Want me to put them back on?”  Eobard asked, lifting a bemused eyebrow at you.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“You’re mouthy tod-ohhh…”

You got sick of waiting for him to finish teasing you, leaned up and bit his neck, right where neck met shoulder.  You sunk your teeth into him, loving the moan that vibrated from his chest.  He tossed his head back, and the moan became a growl.  Your hips rolled rhythmically, grinding up into him as you bit and sucked at his neck.

He pulled your head off of him, pushing you down into the pillow.  His hands restrained yours about level with your head, his hair thoroughly mussed, and his eyes wild.  His chest heaved, and you bit your lip, desperate to get your mouth back on him.

"You naughty girl," he scolded half-heatredly, though he couldn't fight the wicked grin that spread across his lips. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

“I need you, daddy.”  You purred, trying to turn the tables on him.  Eobard sucked in a breath, but didn’t break.  A yellow blur again for a moment, as Eobard sped around.  When he stopped, your hands were each tied to a bedpost.

“Safe word?”  Eobard asked, his voice soft as he nuzzled your face.

“Yessir.”  You replied quietly.  “I remember it.”

“Good girl.”  He praised you, dropping a brief kiss on your lips.

His mouth on your neck again, this time the other side.  You wailed his name, thrashing under him and panting.  His hips ground into yours, and his erection slid against your folds, still wet from your last orgasm.  He brushed past your clit and you gasped, arching your back into him.  His hands, resting on the bed on either side of your head, fisted in the blankets and you felt him bite your neck.  

He stopped and pulled away from your neck so suddenly, you were left lying there gasping for breath.  You had a single moment to wonder where he went, before you felt his breath on your nethers.  You bit your lip, trying to hold in a whine, but it escaped nevertheless.  

“Say please.”  Eobard ordered you.  You didn’t lift your head to look at him, but you could hear the smug smirk in his voice.

“Eobard,” you protested in a breathy moan.

“Say.  Please.”  Eobard growled, licking your pussy and making you shiver.  “Or I’ll leave you on the edge all night.”

“Fuck,” you groaned.  “Please!”

“Good girl,” he purred, and then he was on you.

You felt his beard on your thighs and your folds, you couldn’t help but grind your hips into his face.  It didn’t hurt, but enhanced the sensation, setting every nerve on fire until all you could do was writhe and cry his name.  

You noticed just then that your legs were tied to the posts on the footboards.  You wondered vaguely when he’d done that, but the thought quickly left you when you felt his hands on your breasts, massaging and pinching until you sobbed with pleasure.  Eobard’s tongue started vibrating inside you, making you cry out wordlessly.  You trembled, and all four limbs fought the restraints.  You tried to move, to squirm away from him, but you couldn’t go anywhere tied to the bed, and he was relentless.  He ate you ravenously, little growls and hungry noises as he vibrated against you.  You screamed, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.  His hands left your breasts, holding your hips as he eagerly kept vibrating and licking until you were struggling to find the words to beg him to stop.

He never did, eating you out from one orgasm directly into the next.  Tears leaked from your eyes, and your hips rutted into him without consulting you.  Your throat closed and you couldn’t make a sound, and your eyes slid shut.  You couldn’t think, all you could do was feel as your third orgasm of the night threw you higher and kept you there.  He vibrated harder somehow, stimulating your clit and your gspot, throwing you into another orgasm.

Finally, you quite lost count of the orgasms, and just passed out.

When you came to, you’d been untied and cleaned up, and were lying in bed, still naked.  You were on your side, and Eobard’s warm body was pressed behind you, an arm lying across your waist.

“Back with me, kitten?”  He asked softly, the hand on your waist drawing little circles on your skin.  You half turned to look at him.

He’d shaved.

“You shaved?”  You asked.  You tried to make your voice sound neutral, but you sounded disappointed despite yourself.

Eobard smirked, easily reading you.  “Sorry, Y/n.  I’m not keeping it.

“But, it might make a comeback from time to time.  If you’re good.”

You weren’t sure you’d survive.

[eeveedel]

so now i’m gonna need a sequel to that previous chubby drabble after harry’s last movie where louis chubs him up again

ask and you shall receive, my friend ;)

sequel to this drabble from last week. this is mostly fluff but be aware this does lead into chubby kink and feeding kink quite a bit, so if that bothers you this may be one to skip

--

On the night of the LA premiere of the last Sun Knight movie, Harry and Louis snuck out half way through the film.

 Harry had watched it ten different times at the various European premieres, and Louis had suffered through it once at the London premiere and that was enough for him. So they downed several glasses of complimentary white wine, and then got an Uber Black home while Louis complained.

 “God I love you so much but I’m so happy I don’t have to watch any more of those movies,” Louis groaned as he finally trudged through their bedroom door, “Like…they’re bad, babe.”

 “I know, the CG is a little much,” Harry agreed from behind him.

 “And the characters, what the fuck are they!” Louis continued, “Like, it’s been three years and I still don’t know what your fucking character’s powers are.”

 “He can harness the power of the sun in his magical crystal staff, Louis. It’s very straight forward.”

 “But that’s so stupid!” Louis insisted, “And why can he fly?”

 “He just can,” Harry said, “Can we go to bed?”

 “Yes please,” Louis huffed.

 He launched himself onto the bed, then immediately flipped onto his back and spread out his arms and legs wide. Harry chuckled and leaned down to give him a peck on the lips.

“You have to take your suit off, babe.”

 “Don’t tell me what to do,” Louis said, even as he sat up to take off his shoes and pants.

 He shucked off his clothes quickly and then went back to sprawling on the bed, this time in just his boxers. Louis watched as Harry stood near the edge of the bed and unlaced his shoes and toed off his loafers. He unbuttoned his shirt next, and then undid his belt to loosen his pants. Louis sat up on his elbows to watch closer, and Harry gave him a smile as he caught Louis’s eyes.

 “Thought you were tired,” he teased.

 “I am,” Louis said, “Just watching.”

 Harry grinned and smiled, and Louis just watched as his husband took off all his clothes. For the last three filming years, Harry had kept up closely with the studio’s expectations for his work out routine, and he was still in great shape, his body sharp and chiseled.

 But Louis still missed pre-superhero-movie Harry, in all his chubby glory, and now that the films had wrapped up, he maybe had a shot at getting him back.

 Harry got down to his underwear and then joined Louis in bed, crawling under the covers next to him. Louis quickly snuggled into his side, and smiled as Harry wrapped an arm around him.

 “Hey, you know,” Louis said slowly, “Your contract is officially up now.”

 “Don’t I know it,” Harry sighed, “No more Comic Con, no more press junkets, no more fan boys in my twitter correcting my knowledge of the comics…”

 “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Louis said with a wave of his hand, “I’m more excited about this.”

 He settled a hand on Harry’s flat stomach and gave it a pat, and Harry gave him a blank look before his eyes sparked.

 “Oh,” he said.

 “Yeah,” Louis smiled, “No more fucking work out regime and no more plain chicken breasts in our fridge.”

 “Oh, thank God,” Harry sighed.

 ���I’m going to start baking again,” Louis cooed, snuggling into Harry’s shoulder, “My husband is finally going to return to me.”

 “I’m still your husband.”

 “Shh, hush,” Louis said, pressing a finger to Harry’s lips. Harry rolled his eyes and kissed Louis’s fingertip.

 “For the past three years you’ve told me you loved me, and you’ve just been bidding your time waiting for me to get chubby again?”

 “Um, excuse you, I have loved you for the past three years, as I have every year of our marriage, but for the past three years I have put up with you waking up at 5 in the morning to go to the gym, you doing yoga in our living room every afternoon, and keeping up with whatever keto gluten free plant based nightmare your trainer has put you on that week, so I did my time. I deserve to see you chubby again.”

 “Okay, babe,” Harry laughed and kissed the top of Louis’s head, “Let’s get some sleep and then you can make me chubby in the morning.”

 “Hell yeah I can,” Louis said, “You lost sixty pounds and I’m going to help you find all of them.”

 Harry snorted and waved his hand.

 “Go to sleep, angel.”

 --

 “I think I’m losing my abs.”

 It was a Tuesday morning and Harry was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, shirtless, eating a bowl of Coco pops. Louis was still half-asleep, and was scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. He tucked a hand under his glasses and rubbed at his blurry eyes, not taking his gaze off his phone.

 “What makes you say that?” he asked sleepily, like he hadn’t taken very careful inventory of Harry’s body every day for the past month.

 “I just am,” Harry said. Louis glanced up to see his husband shrug and eat another spoonful of his cereal.

 Over the past several weeks, Harry had enjoyed an extended vacation from script readings and auditions and just focused on being at home and indulging in a few of his random, off-duty hobbies. Recently he had taken origami back up again, and Louis kept finding colorful paper frogs of varying sizes all over the house.

 And Harry had been eating. A lot.

 Harry was true to his word that he was going to start cooking and baking again once Harry was off his strict work outs and diets. Harry still went to the gym every now and again, but it wasn’t every day, and his work outs were far shorter now. And Louis had accumulated three years’ worth of recipes he wanted to try, so he always had something new in the oven for Harry to try. He had forgotten how much he had missed the simple joys of Harry wrapping his arms around him and stealing a cookie or brownie off the plate Harry had pulled out of the oven, and then how he kissed Louis on the cheek right after he shoved it into his mouth, complimenting Louis endlessly.

 He was still pretty lean, to Louis’s annoyance, but he was a bit softer now. His stomach was flat, still, but it was soft. If Harry sucked in, like he was doing on and off now, the outline of his muscles was still clear, but there was a definite layer of softness dusted over it. It was there all over his body; on his hips, his thighs, his arms, his face.

 He could still work it all off in a few weeks if he wanted to, and the thought made Louis’s stomach swoop a little bit. He wasn’t sure what kind of body his husband wanted any more.

 “Does that bother you?” Louis asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

 “You know, I feel like it should bother me way more,” Harry said. He turned away from the mirror and then went to sit on the bed, folding his legs as he looked at Louis and ate his cereal.

 “What are you going to try to make for lunch?” Harry asked, even though he was still plowing through his breakfast.

 “Um,” Louis said, not missing the glint in Harry’s eyes, “Shrimp scampi?”

 “Mm, sounds good,” Harry hummed, “Can’t wait.”

 “Yeah,” Louis said, and let his stupid, stupid eyes flick down to where Harry’s stomach was just barely starting to fold and crease over the top of his boxers, “Me neither.”

 --

 Louis was standing at a hot stove on a summer afternoon, trying to wipe his forehead with his arm as he cooked up the latest series of recipes he wanted to make. He was nearly down, but the effort he was putting in made him feel like he was losing it. The only thing that pulled him out of his own stress was the sound of the screen door sliding open. Louis heard the sound of flip flops smacking on the floor a second later.

 “Are you dripping water on my floor?” he called, and he heard Harry snort.

 “You haven’t cleaned this house by yourself in six years,” Harry called.

 “Doesn’t answer my question, smart ass.”

 “Only a little water, honey.”

 Louis groaned a bit too loudly, and a few seconds later he heard louder footsteps, and then felt a big body hugging him from behind and kissing him on the cheek.

 “Smells good,” Harry said, and planted another firm kiss on Louis’s neck. Louis squirmed but grinned, and then when he felt Harry move away, he turned around to take Harry in.

 He had been in the pool for hours, and he looked pink from the sun and drenched, his dark hair wet and flat against his head and temples. He had his hands on his hips, and he was wearing one of his older swimsuits, dark purple and patterned with turtles. His thick thighs filled out the trunks well, clinging to him tightly due to the water. His love handles spilled over the edges, and his big belly pooled proudly over the waistband.

 In the past few weeks, Louis had finally felt like he had gotten his husband back.

 Harry was now only within a few pounds of what he had been before his grueling training started three years ago, and Louis nearly wanted to cry every time he looked at him. He was just so handsome, so sexy, so Louis’s Harry. Not the man that was on horrifically photoshopped block buster posters and was Twitter’s thirst crush of the week every other month, but the man he had met at a shitty acting class years ago and whose bed he had fallen into immediately after that class.

 And Harry had been on board for everything. He was tired of the diets that left him hungry and the work outs that always put him in knee braces or on the couch icing his back. He wasn’t exactly chasing another block buster any time soon, so he was content to return to his old habits and enjoy himself again.

 He was also perfectly aware of how Louis felt about his body, which didn’t hurt. He always made a big deal of telling Louis when he started having trouble buttoning his jeans, and then his button downs, and then when he needed to dig out his old clothes from years ago. And from often he grinned and winked at Louis when he was eating, the bastard knew exactly what he was doing.  

 “What’d you make me?” Harry asked, and Louis had to shake his head to make his thoughts somewhat proper again.

 “Spaghetti and meatballs,” Louis said, “I made the meatballs myself, and the sauce. And garlic bread! Lots of garlic bread. And cinnamon rolls with honey and almonds!”

 He tilted his head, frowning.

 “Also I have a salad in the fridge but that’s boring.”

 “That sounds great, babe,” Harry said, “Let me go rinse off and then I’ll be down, okay?”

 Louis nodded, and Harry went off upstairs. Louis went back to the food, and pulled everything out. He got out plates, serving dishes, a couple cold beers from the fridge. He made several trips putting it all on the table, and by the time he was done Harry had come back downstairs, dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

 “Can’t we just eat on the couch?” he asked when he saw Louis setting everything up.

 “Fuck off, do you know how much we paid for this table?” Louis scoffed, “Sit down, we’re having a real sit down lunch like adults.”

 Harry just chuckled and tipped his head.

 “Yes, sir, Mr. Tomlinson-Styles.”

 Louis scrunched his nose and then sat down with Harry, filling up his own plate while he watched Harry take things for his own. He served up a full plate of spaghetti, and then two small separate plates for his garlic bread and cinnamon rolls. He still had a small dish of salad, but Louis could forgive him for that.

 Louis was still staring when Harry started twirling his fork through his pasta, and Harry lifted a brow at him.

 “What?” he asked.

 “Can I…” Louis said cautiously, “Can I feed you?”

 Harry smiled, his eyes crinkling and his padded cheeks folding up.

 “Sure, baby.”

 Louis smiled and scooted his chair forward. He took the fork from Harry and lifted it up, and Harry opened his mouth for Louis to tuck the pasta and meatballs inside. He hummed when his mouth was closed, nodding.

 “S’good, baby. Really good,” Harry said, “I like what you did to the sauce.”

 “Yeah, it’s fresh basil,” Louis said absentmindedly, already loading up another forkful for Harry.

 He loved doing this, whenever Harry let him. He just wanted to take care of Harry, and know that Harry loved what he had made, and if Harry overindulged a bit more when Louis was physically putting food into his mouth, that helped, too.

 Louis fed Harry his pasta, and then a bit of salad, and then the bread. He was ignoring his own food, but he didn’t even care. Harry so willingly ate what Louis had prepared him and swallowed down every bite with a smile on his face, moaning and smacking his lips. If anyone else did that while they were eating Louis would lose it, but with Harry…God, he already felt his belly heating up.

 Louis fed Harry two of the cinnamon rolls he had made, and then delicately helped Harry wipe his mouth with a napkin when Harry waved his hand, officially tapping out. Harry slouched on his chair and patted his belly, making a loud smacking noise as he did so.

 “Christ, baby, I feel like I’m gonna burst,” he moaned, “You outdid yourself.”

 Harry rubbed his belly, rucking up his shirt to reveal more of his soft, pale skin, and Louis could just stand and stare, his throat going dry.

 “What are you thinking?” Harry asked, and Louis blurted it out before he could think it through.

 “I did this,” Louis said, and then poked at Harry’s belly, “I did this to you.”

 Harry hummed, looking at Louis with sparkling eyes.

 “You sure did,” Harry said, his smile growing.

 Harry smacked his belly again, and Louis gripped the table hard.

 “You know I can’t say no to you,” Harry continued, “I know you like a belly. And it helps you know your way around a kitchen.”

 “I really, really missed you,” Louis blurted, and Harry lifted a brow.

 “I’ve been right here.”

 “I missed this you,” Louis said.

 Harry lifted a brow.

 “Someone’s letting their kink flag fly tonight,” Harry teased.

 “You love my kink,” Louis insisted.

 “I do,” Harry smiled.

 Harry looked down, rubbing his belly again, and he tilted his head.  

 “You know, I’m just about to my old weight, but,” Harry shrugged, “I don’t think an extra ten pounds can hurt, don’t you think?”

 Louis leaned forward, gripping the table so hard his knuckles went white.

 “I’m going to ride you so fucking hard after this your dick will fall off.”

 Harry chuckled, his smile still wide and bright.

 “Why don’t you finish your lunch, first,” Harry said, “And I’m going you to give me a little rub down after this. I seriously feel like I’m gonna pop.”

“Shut your whore mouth,” Louis snapped, and then scooted his chair back, begrudgingly picking up his fork to dig into his now-cold pasta. Harry just laughed again, and Louis rolled his eyes as he ate food he longer wanted.  

 His husband was officially back; he didn’t have reason to be interested in much else.

[whatscallion]

[ prompt ] “I was just wondering if you wanted to mate–DATE I MEANT DATE.”

It was a Tuesday morning in the summer.

The sun broke over the cityscape’s silhouette, echoing off the mirrored windows of New York’s tallest buildings, bringing a blurry-eyed populace to life after a weekend of unrelenting freedom. Debauchery had been afoot in those midnight hours, soaked in alcohol and stained with cigarette smoke. This pertained heavily to those of the more normal stature, but this weekend had been one of the rare moments in which the aptly named ‘Supers’ had a day or two of respite.

This was enough cause for celebration.

With golden mead from Thor’s reserves and the skeleton remnants of Tony’s dusty own, those who defended the world had taken it upon themselves to slump their shoulders in relaxation. The weight of the world could be lifted, if just for one night. What had originally been a small affair ballooned into something befit the red carpet.

A few calls may or may not have been made.

“What? We’re allowed to let loose every now and then,” the futurist spoke over the rim of his virgin Shirley Temple. A shameless man could not be ribbed over his drink choice. “Besides, when was the last time everyone washed their uniforms, hm?”

A mixture of grimaces and snickers answered his question as the question was mulled over at the behest of his raised eyebrows.

“You’re all filthy animals,” he followed up in the absence of concrete answers.

“Filthy, yes, but joyous nonetheless.” Even with his “indoor voice”, Thor could be heard over the mass of people mingling around them. He’d even raised his stein in appreciation, bringing the others of the patchwork family to follow suit in the myriad of glasses. “Besides, I quite enjoy my Asgardian garbs. Do you not?”

“I like it in the same way I like the Smithsonian: on occasion,” Tony fired back with an overly saccharine sweet smile.

“You’ve had a stain on your cape for the past three weeks. We’ve all been taking bets on what it is.” Clint had been the one to shed light on the sort of secret pool they were all in on, prompting the god to look down at his cape to at least ascertain the stain’s presence.

Collectively, the Avengers held their breath as the fabric was brought up for closer inspection.

“By the Gods, this is ketchup. When did we last feast upon hamburgers?” Silence among the heroes followed once more as they all dug through memories for a timeframe.

“Two weeks ago, man,” Bruce quietly offered from behind the floor lamp, as if the furniture would hide him from the world. “How is it not moldy yet?”

From there, the relaxed titans would speak further of Thor possibly eating something with ketchup much sooner, but it was drowned out as the music persisted and the drinks flowed. Minutes passed to hours, leaving most of the invites to meander their way out the doors and into the night. A warm hum seemed to vibrate through those who were easily intoxicated and even those who were deemed impossible to feel anything. But they’d never accounted for something stronger than earthly ales.

“This’s…really strong, what.” Most of the group managed to catch a glimpse of a very rare sight, one that brought delight and mischief to course through them. “What is this?”

The good Captain was feeling a little foggy after having some of whatever was in Thor’s flask. The god merely smiled.

“It is the nectar of the gods, Steven Rogers. And I’m impressed! No mortal man could ever have so much as a taste and remain standing, but you! You’ve had but three glasses and are still upright! This calls for another.”

Though the Thunder God poured another, Steve felt inclined to step away from the bar in order to sit and wait for the world to stop spinning this fast. Water would be nice, he surmised, glancing about and realizing that no one else was sitting. Why? This was strange. For someone who couldn’t get drunk on any other day, Steve sure felt like a lightweight.

The glass of water came into view half a second before a body sat down next to him. Steven needn’t even look over to know that the famed Black Widow had taken up a spot beside him. Senses were buzzing with alcohol before, but now, they were sparking to life at the proximity. This wasn’t fair. There were times in which he cursed the serum, and that moment was climbing the list to being the number one curse.

“You look like you need some help,” she said, handing the glass over to him. Why did her voice sound like velvet? Did it always? Get your head in the game, Rogers. “I’m surprised you took Thor up on his offer. I saw Tony do it once, and he was in bed the whole next day eating Saltines and watching daytime television.”

Steve couldn’t look at her. Nope. Not with these background feelings trying to bully their way up to the forefront of his mind. But he could hear the smile in her voice, and could vividly imagine the curl of crimson. He had to rub his face before taking to the water.

“I’ll be fine,” he finally said after finishing half the glass. “Pretty sure I’ll sober right up b’fore I go to bed.”

Come with?

Wait. No. Don’t say that. Wow, he can feel the warmth of her body right there.

Stop iT, ROGERS.

“Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and not believe that. You’re a pretty super guy, but I’m thinking that nectar might have you beat.” There was a soft hum of a chuckle tailing her words, and every part of Steve wanted to look over at her. But he couldn’t. He knew that if he did, a plethora of word vomit would be out of his mouth.

“This’sn’t the first time I’ve been drunk, Nat. C’mon.” Shit. Okay. He could feel her eyes on him, studying every move he made to see if he was lying or not. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t lying. Mostly sure. Did she buy it? Did he even buy it? The world was swirling around him in a way that was so disorienting and all Steve wanted to do was lay down.

Would she mind if he put his head in her lap for a little bit?

What are you THINKING, Steven Grant Rogers?

“Okay, fine.” Oh good, she believed him, which was more of a shock to him than anything. “Regardless, try to eat something before bed. And drink water, okay?” Her palm fell on his shoulder and it felt like fire. A rosy blush bled into the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears as she stood.

He looked up at her.

Shit.

She was a vision dressed in just plain jeans and a shirt with ‘Pym Labs’ printed across it in cracked lettering. A well worn shirt. Jeans were rough around the edges but comfortable - her favorite pair. How did he even know this? In a glance, he knew everything he’d come to consciously ignore, but the alcohol was subtly switching his subconscious to front and center. Steve had already known she loved those jeans and that shirt. Knew that she didn’t do anything with her hair as scarlet strands fell in haphazard waves.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Hey, Nat?” She stopped and pivoted back to look at him with an expectant gaze.

Don’t say it.

Don’t.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to mate–”

Wait. Something’s not right.

Oh no.

“–DATE I MEANT DATE.”

If Steve had been blushing before, he was about to combust now, instantly standing with nerves ruling over his actions. First to come were the nervous chuckles, free hand palming the back of his neck as he refused to look at the reaction on her face.

“Hahaha, wow. Okay, uhm - I think I should skidaddle outta here. Haha.” Oh god, you’re a hot mess. “I’ll uh, yeah- haha. I’ll see you ‘round.”

And just like that, the whirlwind of drunk Steve Rogers was stumbling his way back to his room to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. It ate away at him until he flopped onto his bed, instantly out like a light.

While he was embarrassed, Natasha was both confused and amused. She spent the rest of the night enjoying herself with pointless small talk with her colleagues, all the while planning away what would be done in the morning.

A knock came at Steve’s door just as the sunlight broke out over the city, only to be met with a grumble of sorts. Another knock and there was movement behind the door. Another knock, and it finally opened, revealing that Steve was still wearing the clothes he was wearing the previous night, and that a super soldier could indeed look like death warmed over.

“Figured you’d have a hangover,” Nat said, holding back a smile too broad. “Brought you aspirin and water.”

“Oh my god, Nat. I don’t even-” Oh no. He remembers. Suddenly, he was very lucid. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry, Rogers. A good greasy breakfast will cure that hangover. Besides, it’ll be a good first date.”

[saint-yaint]

Petrichor Chapter 2:NYC to AMS

I walked into LaGuardia and immediately sought out some coffee I went into a Starbucks I quickly spotted in the airport. I came two hours earlier, Eileen expressed that there was a possibility that she can rush the info about the names of operatives that have been dispatched by Helmsley. The line was long and busy, I will not deal with that for a simple black coffee, so I wandered and just went to go find a suitable breakfast to give me a pick me up. I found a small stall that smell like my distant nearly forgotten childhood, it smells like berry pancakes, sausage, eggs and oatmeal. Yes I will admit that may sound quite plain, but something distinct caught my interest about the smell, it has the feeling of a southern grandparent's love. The spoiling of a child on a weekend morning with sweet treats and Grandma's perfume swirling in the air as we get ready for a lengthy church service. The unappealing realization of having to sit thought the preaching was overshadowed by an overabundance of singing, chanting, and cheering followed by the scores of food I indulged in provided by the congregation elders. I mindlessly wandered over to the stall and reached in my Louis Vuitton handbag to get my glasses to read the menu that seems so high and far from me. I fished out my frames, slid them on and looked up, I was still squinting and my eyes slowly adjusted to the lenses, words still blurry my mind tried to decipher the few letters I could recognized. My contacts are far superior to my glasses, but I never wear them on long flights, they dry out and make my eyes feel that they should be plucked from my skull. I finally could read the words and I felt a presence behind me.

"Have trouble seeing cutie pie?" I turned around to see a man with thick black glasses, a high bun, doe eyes, and a soft gentle smile. This man was an odd combination of casual and professional, quite nice actually. The thing is: I've learned from friends that meeting men in this attractive in an airport leads to fleeting and sometimes regrettable flings in public bathrooms. Therefore it's a worthless pursuit I was told never put effort in.

"Yeah I just have trouble adjusting to my glasses, I should get out your way so you can order" I rolled my suitcase out the way and let him through, he looked down at me, and I looked back troubled by the invasion of personal space.

"Tell me what you want to eat I'll see if it's on the menu and I'll order it for you." There he goes smiling, a bit wider than before.

"Well I would like pancakes, link sausages, veggie omelette, grits with sugar salt and pepper, and 2 extra large black coffees.Please and thank you. I'll stay right here so I can pay for the meal." His eyes widened and looked oddly bewildered, I know for sure this man can eat this amount of food three times over, he is muscular and looks like he is in the gym more than in his office.

"Well then little lady, lucky for you everything is there. But are you planning to carry half of that on the plane? Also the 2 cups of coffee I know its early sweety but that's so much for little ol' you." He chuckled, walked off and ordered the food and I walked over to the counter where he is luggage in tow and got out the money for the meal.

" Here is the cash, thank you again for this. I will tell you no I am not planning to take any food on the plane, that's quite odd and I will eat it all here. Is that why you looked so surprised earlier? Have you never seen a woman eat more than a miniature salad and sparkling salt water?" I spat those words, it was quite a strong way to put it but I don't enjoy having my eating habits questioned, I got enough of that from Kiwi as it is.

"Nope,I'll pay for it,I got myself something too. Also I am curious to see what it is like to be around a woman that doesn't eat mini salads and sparkling salt water,as you put it. So put your suitcase there and we will eat." Pointing at the closest table he wanted to sit at, I sat my suitcase there. He pulled out a credit card, quickly swiping it and started to hand me a bag filled with two Styrofoam containers and a cup with two coffees.

 I sat at the table with my food and was trying to find a way to pay this guy back, yes kindness is appreciated but still I hate owing someone. I just simply started to eat my food, oh holy hell I was hungry more than I realized. Doe Eyes came over to sit and eat with me I was on my phone and quickly put it away I didn't want any questions from him. He unwrapped his food and started to eat, while watching me eat, that was so unsettling and downright rude one should never  stare at someone eating! He reached over to take one of my coffees then was checking the time on his watch,and was about to say something to me. He was suddenly rolling his eyes and two other men joined out table and sat down. I guessed they were his friends. One with ocean blue eyes, a beard, and a close blond haircut his face simultaneous full of austerity and amusement, he proceeded to steal food off of Doe Eyes plate that made him visibly pissed off. The other man had long dark hair in a ponytail, brown eyes, and a unique modelesque face, he simple look at the other two men bickering and shook his head. I just was finishing up chewing my food, and I heard some words being said but it took a minute to register that someone was talking.

"So are you really eating breakfast without getting us anything?" Blue Eyes proceeded to steal more bacon off of Doe Eye's plate before his hand was smacked, he finally looked at me. "Oh hello there darlin' what are you doing having breakfast with him?" he reached over to tap the modelesque man and keeps talking "Hey Big Dog he's having breakfast with her and brought us nothing. What you think of that?"

"You know what Ambrose that doesn't seem quite right to me. We are quite hurt Rollins, friends no brothers don't do this to each other." Big Dog dramatically an playfully did a woe is me act. "So tell me missy did our brother here con you into spending breakfast with him?" leaning on the table looking at me.

"Woah there Reigns you really think I conned her? Now you wound me!" Rollins pointing his plastic fork at Reigns then slapping Ambrose's hand again to stop him from stealing bacon once more.

"Honestly I do, she looks like a woman that wouldn't give you the time of day." Rollins rolled his eyes "Miss, how did he get you to sit with him? He definitely approached you, cause women like you don't be around guys like him."

"I had trouble seeing the menu, he offered to help me order and then just ultimately bought my meal. He bought himself something to eat as well so we ate together." After speaking I finished my meal, my coffee cooled so I started to drink it. "If you two are hungry will I will get you something to eat if you want?" This is how I will return the favor to Rollins, by feeding his friends.

"Lady you just made my day!" Ambrose loudly spoke with a smile "See Rollins why couldn't you be more like her? You don't ever buy us breakfast until we break you down. Shit we just met her and she just offered no problem!" I hurried to finish my coffee to buy breakfast for Ambrose and Reigns. I grabbed my purse and suitcase and prepared myself to go to the stall.

"Ok I'm am ready to buy your food now" all three men followed me over to the stall. Reigns and Ambrose ordered their meals and I gave them cash for the total. Rollins just hung around me and was starting to ask me questions.

"I bought you food, you've met my brothers and you know my name. This relationship seems like it's escalating quickly, sweety." He puts his elbow on my shoulder and I swiftly moved it. "So what is your name, and you have expensive taste I see. From the shoes, clothes, accessories, even the way your nails are done. What do you do?"

"My name is Griselda Brunswick, I run a fashion blog and do consulting and buying for various fashion houses. My appearance is key to my money, either dress the part or get ripped apart." I droned. How dare he ask me questions about my work? My name is one thing but my work! Oh he is a bold and brazen bastard, he analyzed my appearance then made his assumptions. It's New York is why he amazed that I dressed like this? Or is it something more?

"Hmm the name Griselda isn't a name I come across often, it's quite strong. But it suits you I like it a lot. My first name is Seth by the way." he extended his hand and I shook it firmly as he did too.

My cell phone rang and I quickly answered the phone, it was Eileen.

"Hello Auntie, how are you?" I had to talk in code to Kiwi

"Griselda are you around people?" she talked quieter than normal

"Yes Auntie, I know I am busy but I am doing well."

"Shit, well I am here in LaGuardia out on the private jet, so you got about thirty minutes. Fifteen minutes to get through checks, you have been put on pre-check so you'll ease on by and be on the jet, fifteen more until take off so I can brief you about the operators the were dispatched against our clients. Hurry and see you soon."

"That lecture wasn't necessary, but I appreciate it. After this I'll take a break from work I promise. Love you too auntie." I look to Seth and his friends who are going back to the table we we just sitting at.

"I am going to be leaving now, I need to make my flight for work." I waved

"See you" Reigns waved back

"Thanks for the food!" Ambrose blurted out before resuming to eat. His loudness is jarring and unnecessary.

"Hope to see you soon Griselda, but until then adieu." Seth is grinning at me

I walked away briskly, I went up to the checkpoint put my bags on scanner and was patted down quickly. I walk to the jet terminal, Eileen was here in the states the duration I was in New York, maybe she was here in the city with me and didn't tell me. Despite how I am pissed about that, the identity of these operators is more important and will aid in our job, seeing what we are dealing with. I got on the jet and saw Eileen, she wore a fashionable floral outfit and had her hair in a bun. So she may be having to assist me in person as we are going under guise as fashion industry elites. She had her computer and I sat in the seat across for her. Eileen sternly and grimly stares at her computer screen. She sent me the debrief to my pda and I look over it as she spoke to me.

"Well Товарищ, the intel unit and I had gotten more info on the unit. Helmsley assembled a group of three men, called The Shield. Colloquially know as 'The Hounds of Justice'." her frankness is on full display "They are a highly skilled and gathered from various SWAT and special ops teams, they have been active for years but be came a group about six years, and was brought to Interpol three years ago. I do think it is odd that he will only send three men, but going over their past missions they do a flawless job." It is very rare for Eileen to be impressed by anyone so they must be hot shit, but no matter I will get this operation done.

"So they are called 'The Hounds of Justice'? HA! How fucking pretentious and ostentatious, they work for Helmsley, that man is a cold blooded murder equal to those we kill and protect. They are in our neck of the woods with kingpins, war criminals, contract killers, and the spies that undermine the societies of the world. They are just as consumed by sin and blood as we are maybe worse!" I was incensed, they fight for justice but are directed by a man with no morals. "They will be humbled, I assure you."

"Griselda be calm now, there is still more to discuss. They consist of a sniper, doctor, and hand to hand combat specialist." clacking on the computer was intense and precise "The pictures of these men are not recent from about three years ago sadly but I can assure you they will be definitely in Amsterdam." She turned around the computer and I saw the faces my jaw dropped so fast and hard to the point it ached severely in the short time. My eyes shivered and I leaned on the table and Eileen looked just as shaken as I did.

"Товарищ, what has happened? I have never seen your resolve waiver like this!" She reached across the table and held my face "What is wrong?"

"Eileen in the hour and a half I waited for you." inhaling deeply I looked in her eyes "I was just with these men thirty minutes ago. I was with the enemy thirty minutes ago. I fraternized with Helmsley's lap dogs and didn't even know it, how did I let that happen?"

"My God Товарищ, they've seen you. How do we proceed knowing that we may be compromised?" Eileen sat back in her seat, as did I.

"Eileen we do what we always do, turn misfortune into miracles. Send out the pictures to the team, we will resume as planned." Eileen smiled team I regained my composure, she typed furiously and the plane started liftoff. I felt that malicious calmness fill me, I knew that I was subconsciously readying myself to kill. I saw myself in Eileen's eyes and I was stone, a pillar of brutality. A soulless vessel emerging formed from the darkest part of God's heart. Eileen knew it was me that was here now not the facade I put on, she smiled and held my hand across the table again her mouth started moving. I didn't hear her voice but her mouth formed the words.

"There you are, I was waiting for you. Good to see you again, my dear."

*Tovarishch, tovarisch or tovarish (Russian: Товарищ) is a Russian word meaning comrade, friend, colleague, or ally.

@adriennegabriella @ruderickrude @superrezzy00 @writinglionqueen

[jamie-leah]

Soul Reader-Epilogue

Bucky x Reader 

Summary:  You find out that you are a soul reader, only you don’t know what that means. Can the Avengers help you figure it out and keep you out of harms way? Soulmate AU

Word Count: 1310

Warnings: Just major fluff? Swearing? 

A/N: I can’t believe this series is over?! Thank you so much to everyone that supported this series, its meant the world to me. I’m working on a new series right now but it may be a while before you see it due to exam season.  I was thinking of taking requests for you lovely people? Anyway Enjoy Lovelies!! 

Soul Reader Masterlist   Series Masterlist   One Shot Masterlist 

One Year Later

BUCKY’S POV

Bucky was nervous. He was checking his watch every two seconds and Steve couldn’t help but smile at him as he says, “I’m not sure why you’re so nervous Buck”. Bucky throws a glare at Steve, checking the doorway for you before levelling him with a hard stare, “you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be nervous either punk”, but Steve just chuckles. Bucky was about to say more when he heard your footsteps coming from down the hall. He straightened out his suit jacket before running his hand through his hair. When he looked up his breath hitched. Knowing you for nearly two years now he still couldn’t get over the fact that you knock the breath out of him every time he sees you. But tonight, you looked…well words wouldn’t do you justice, so he settled for staring at you standing there in your favourite dress, hair up in an elegant bun and strands framing your face. He came back to himself when he heard you say, “Steve? Why aren’t you dressed? And where is Sharon?”, Bucky’s stomach twisted at the questioning, but Steve’s reply was surprisingly cool, “I’m really sorry Y/N, but Sharon got called in and couldn’t get out of it and I thought I’d stay since she could come back any time. But don’t worry, you and Buck can have a nice meal together, you haven’t had one alone in a while”. Steve throws you a dazzling smile and you seem to accept the lie without question and Bucky could feel his chest ease slightly. He walked over to you, offering his arm which you took with a smile and slight blush and you made your way to the restaurant.

 The meal went without a hitch, and Bucky ate a lot considering his stomach was in knots. He had just led you out of the restaurant and in the opposite direction of the compound. You looked up at him with confusion in your eyes and he swallowed hard, “where are we going Buck?”. Even though he was a nervous wreck inside he gave you a comforting smile as he replied, “just for a walk, I’m not ready to go back just yet”. You nodded at him as you rubbed your hands up and down your arms against the chill. Bucky didn’t hesitate as he pulled his suit jacket off and helped your arms through. He was pretty warm anyway as he rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to his elbows. He pressed you into his side to keep you warm as you both strolled down the pavement. The sky was lit with stars and a half moon, the city noise fading as you were nearly at the destination Bucky had in mind.

YOUR POV

You had stopped outside a plain looking building and you just grew more and more confused ever since Bucky had led you out of the restaurant. He reached out to the door and you put your hand on his forearm, “what are you doing Bucky? This building looks closed, we can’t go in there”. He just gave you a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he says softly, “I want to show you something, close your eyes for me”. You drew your eyebrows together at him, but he waited patiently until you did as he asked. You heard him open the door and it sounded like he was leading you down a corridor, his voice bouncing off the walls, “no peeking doll”, you chuckled and screwed your eyes shut tighter as you heard Bucky open another door.

He led you inside and the atmosphere changed, it felt like a small-ish room, your shoes clicking against the floor. He stops you with his hands on your waist before he slips them off and you feel the warmth of him leave as he takes a small step back. You barely hear him as he whispers, “you can open your eyes now doll”, you do it with a smile ready to make fun of him with the secrecy, but when you open your eyes all thought leaves you.

You twirl around the room in awe, mouth slightly ajar. You’re standing on a laminate dancefloor, a small stage at the front with a piano and red curtain on either side. Blue, red, and white balloons are everywhere, covering the entire room besides a walkway from the door you had entered and leaving a space for you and Bucky to stand. As you turn to look back at Bucky you find him on one knee, a black box in his hand with a silver ring and small diamond. You feel the familiar sting of tears in the back of your eyes as you lay a hand on your racing heart.

You watch Bucky swallow, looking nervous but determined, “I was nervous tonight and Steve has been laughing at me for it, saying that I’m an idiot because he knows you’ll say yes. But he doesn’t get it, I know you’ll say yes, we’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together so that wasn’t why I was nervous…Y/N, I know I don’t deserve you. I didn’t when we first met, I didn’t when you first told me that we were soulmates, I don’t deserve you now, and I probably never will. You have no idea how much you’ve given me. You’ve given me happiness, a safe place, and love. You’ve given me a home and I want to spend the rest of my life doing the same for you…I want to spend the rest of my life trying to be the person you deserve. So, if you’ll let me…Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”.

Tears were flowing freely down your cheeks by the end of his speech and you had to swallow a few times, not trusting your voice as you give Bucky a face-splitting smile, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you”. You hold your left hand out and he takes it softly, a massive smile on his face as he slides the ring onto your finger. He gracefully gets up from his position and pulls you in for a hug. He pulls away too soon, heading towards the door leaving you standing there confused for a moment. You’re just about to call out to him when the first notes ring out around the room and a smile slowly spreads across your face. Clair De Lune plays as Bucky reaches for you, bringing you close once again. Your arms go around his neck as he kisses your forehead.

You sway until the song ends, Bucky pulling back to give you a quick kiss. He starts to pull you towards the door as he says, “I have one more surprise for you”, and your stomach does a flip at his words. He leads you out of the door and down another corridor, stopping in front of two heavy looking doors. Bucky turns to you with a cheeky smile as he pushes the door open with ease. He gestures for you to enter first and when you do you hear, “SURPRISE!”. You take it all in. The massive banner saying ‘congratulations!”. The same balloons filling a much bigger room. And your friends: Steve, Sam, Tony, Bruce, Clint, Vision, Thor, Nat, Wanda, and Sharon. Bucky stands next to you, hand entwining with yours as he leans down to whisper, “ready to party Mrs. Barnes?”. When he pulls away you look up at him, loving the delight you see in his eyes, as you say, “I could get used to you calling me that”. He leans down to kiss you, your smiles mixing together. The boys start cheering as you pull away and you both blush. Bucky tugs on your hand, and you walk together towards a new chapter in your lives.

Permanent Tags: @glimmering-darling-dolly , @justakpopfan4

Soul Reader Tags: @softwhispers , @teresoliva20 , @ladysergeantbarnes , @markusstraya , @tolkienite23 , @wantingtobekorra , @artemis521 , @n7siha , @littlewriter55 , @amcrasnow , @bexboo616, @mypandabuddy311 , @livetoeateattolive , @rosep16 , @catching-fire-in-the-wind , @audiblesmirk

[aghostpost]

Hiiiii could ya be a doll and do a frank + reader where the reader wears heels to work everyday and it turns frank on to the point where he makes a move? Thx darling 😏

A/N: IT HS BEEN FOREVER AND I KNOW I AM TWO DAYS LATE BUT I HAD NO WIFI AND I DIDN’T WORK ON THIS HOE FOR NOTHIN’ SO BETTER LATE THAN NEVER heh heh ♥

“Ya know, if someone told me there’d come a time where I wouldn’t need to use a pad for a customer, I woulda laughed at ‘em. I know there’s regulars and all, but you my friend are somethin’ else entirely.”

I set down the freshly brewed pot of coffee along with the same plate of breakfast I brought to the same table every day for the past five, almost six months: 3 eggs over easy, a stack of bacon and two toasted slices of sourdough bread.

He glanced at me before pouring himself a mug. “Figure I’d make it easier for ya, not switchin’ things up too much.”

“You don’t switch things up at all. Imagine the day you come in here and there isn’t a drop of that coffee; what would you do?”

He huffed a small laugh. “I’d probably lose my mind, hm? Lucky for me coffee ain’t the only reason I show up here everyday,” he said suggestively, drinking from his mug as he looked up at me.

I felt my face tingle a bit but remained cool. “Yeah?”

He nodded and scrunched his nose as he placed the mug back on the table. “Mm. You guys got a real good lemon cake.”

Now that was a bold face lie. After working here for just a single month I knew the infamous reputation our lemon cake had, and after being here for a couple more months that reputation hasn’t changed for the better. “Well I think you might be the only one sayin’ that, so more for you.” I tapped his table with my pen as I began backing away to get back to work. “You enjoy that, Frank.”

“Ya know,” he said just as I turned away, “I always wanted to ask you somethin’.”

I raised a brow. “What’s that?”

“What kinda person wears high heels to work at a diner?”

“Is there a dress code I’m unaware of?”

“I mean, your feet gotta be killin’ you, yeah? Up on your feet a whole shift in those?” he asked, pointedly looking at my feet for longer than necessary, in my opinion…

“You see me here nearly every single day; this is the only exercise I can get. How else do you think my legs got this nice?”

“Haven’t noticed.”

I shrugged, noticing his eyes were lingering on mine as he ate his food. His stare was so intense it ignited my skin. “Your loss. Good thing the ones leavin’ good tips notice.” I smirked and turned to get back to work.

That day he left a generous tip, and continued to do so from that moment on.

“I need two more stacks of Lover’s Flapjacks and an order of Cupid’s Bowtie Pasta, thank youuu!”

I liked holidays at the diner. Dressing up and having some festive options on the menu, it was all good fun. It was also a different crowd from my usual early morning shifts that I took, which normally consisted of a buncha seniors checking for early bird specials. The entrance door wouldn’t stop ringing and I felt like a chicken with its head cut off the way I was running around the place. We were jam packed and unlike some of the other waitstaff, I didn’t have plans for the evening, so I didn’t mind switching my morning shift to work tonight.

The moment I found a second to park my ass in a booth I reclined against the window, kicking my legs up on the bench with a sigh. I took down my ponytail to avoid the tension headache I felt coming, ruffling my hair loose when someone helped themselves to the other side of my booth.

“Feet finally tired then?”

I chuckled and rested against the window. “Have you noticed how toned my calves are? These heels ain’t goin’ nowhere, guy. What are you doin’ here anyway?”

“Oh, was I not invited to the party?”

“I didn’t peg you for the partying type. Besides it’s a little late for toast and eggs, isn’t it?”

“Ain’t that the gift of a diner? Breakfast ‘round the clock?”

I nodded. “Touche. I guess what I mean is I’m only used to you being here in the mornings.”

“That’s cuz you’re only here in the mornin’. I come whenever I could use a refill,” he said before placing a large thermos on the table.

“Thought you came for the lemon cake,” I said with a smirk as I moved to climb outta the booth.

“No no no,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt your break.”

“Technically I’m not on break, just bustin’ my ass around here; so don’t worry about that.” I scooted off the bench and went behind the counter to grab a pot of coffee, returning to fill the thermos up for him. I sat and unscrewed the cap cup hybrid and poured. “I don’t know how people drink black coffee. May as well just eat the damn beans.”

“I’m not too crazy ‘bout sweets.”

“Explains why you like our lemon cake.” I twisted the lid back on and slid the thermos back to him, and as he reached for it a small shock of electricity went through me as his hand left a ghostly touch when he grabbed the thermos. Our eyes met for the smallest shred of a second before I cleared my throat. “That should last you all of what, four minutes, I’m guessing?”

“That all depends… ” he said as he stared at me, his thumb tapping nervously at on the now warm thermos.

“Oh yeah?” I stared right back, sitting and folding my arms across my chest and rested my back against the booth.

“Why don’t you, uhh… tell me what time you’re gettin’ off, hm?”

My brows shot up in shock and I paused, failing to find words. Apart from when he asked me about my heels, Frank’s never said more than repeated his order day after day. So this came as a surprise if it were leading to where I was pretty damn sure it was.

“You askin’ me out or somethin’, Frank?”

“Well I guess I’m finally tired of seein’ those heels walk away, ain’t I?”

“You been watching me closely, I see… Do you even know my name?” I questioned. He did the obvious: redirected his eyes to my nametag then back to my face, suppressing a grin. I rolled my eyes. “Did you know before that? It’s not like you ever call me Y/N.”

“Ever since you asked me my name I made sure I knew yours. ‘Member that?”

“I do. I wanted to know the guy that visited for about four pots of coffee every week.”

“So you tellin’ me when you gettin’ outta here or not?”

“Well I don’t know. Not a lotta waitstaff here tonight. Everyone actually had plans for Valentine’s Day; I hear that’s somethin’ people like to do,” I said with a shrug.

“You seem dressed like ya had plans….”

“I like to get into the holiday spirit. Just because I’m workin’ doesn’t mean I can’t celebrate, right?” Beneath my apron I wore a simple and plain red pencil skirt, it was Valentine’s Day after all, and a short sleeved button up shirt. It was by zero means me being what I would call dressed up, but for a diner I could see how this looked as such.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down either…” he commented. It was weird being under his scope, realizing now that he had been paying more attention to me than I thought.

“It’s either a ponytail or a hairnet, and I don’t think the net looks nice with heels.” I smiled as he bent to peek under the table at my shoes. “Oh my goodness- Stop!”

“Now if I have to sit here and wait all night, this thermos ain’t gonna last nobody.”

“Okay okay, uhh… I can try to get outta here in an hour, hour thirty max.”

“An hour thirty, hm?”

“Is that alright with you, Frank?”

“I’ve waited longer for a whole lot less…”

I ignored the burn in my cheeks. This guy was smoother than I thought. All the times he’s come here I’ve never seen him interact with anyone more than asking things of a nearby waiter, or when he leaves and compliments the cook. “Can I ask what we’re supposed to be doing when I get off?”

“I figured you’re dressed a lil’ too nice to just be workin’ tonight. Maybe we go let the city get a better look at those toned calves? Go grab a slice?”

I chuckled. “A pizza date? That’s very romantic of you.”

“S’gonna be half past nine on Valentine’s Day night. If we’re lucky enough for anything to still even be open,  we can go somewhere nice and try to wait for seats, but I’ma need about six more o’ these,” he said, holding up his thermos full of black coffee.

“Good point. But I want pepperoni. And a whole pizza, not a slice! I’ve been here all day, I’m starved.”

He nodded as I rose from my seat. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

I hesitated a little but spit it out. “You know my name; start using it.”

He laughed to himself. “Yes, Y/N,” he corrected. The way he said my name with emphasis made my stomach flip. “I’ll see you in a hour an’ a half.”

“What, are you gonna wait here??”

He shrugged. “S’at a problem?”

“I mean, what are you gonna do, just sit and watch me?” He looked at me as if to repeat his question, his thumb lightly tapping the side of his thermos before he opened it to pour himself a cup. I rolled my eyes. “Just sounds a bit boring is all, but suit yourself.” Before leaving him to head to the restroom to freshen up a bit and get back to work he grabbed my hand. I froze in place and looked at him as he pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“For the coffee,” he said coolly. He tapped twice with his thumb on the back of my hand before letting go and turning back to the coffee in front of him, a smug grin hidden on his face.

I walked to the bathroom with a little pep in my step as I put my ponytail back into place. I washed my hands and looked in the mirror, annoyed at the goofy smile on my face. “Get a grip, dummy,” I told myself. I went back to the floor to grab change from the register when I looked up and noticed Frank had left, again leaving me with a fat tip he knew I’d otherwise turn down if he were still here.

But I’d get the last laugh: I planned on using that change to buy the pizza, so technically it would still be him paying for the meal.

Just as a gentleman should.

[intimatevoid]

Stolen from @littledonkeyburrito, as usual~

1. Do you prefer guys to shave down there? I have no preference. As long as the hair isn't making things difficult, like getting caught in hands and toys and teeth, he can do what he wants.

2. Do you prefer liquid, mousse or powder foundation? Why? I don’t really think about it because I don't wear foundation. My skin's clear enough that I don't need it, and even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t wear it because I would sweat it off in minutes. (Setting spray? I destroy setting spray ;A; it’s the worst.)

3. How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Next to nothing, I guess. All she knows is that I've been with Ash for a while, and that I was with Seb for a while too.

4. Do you enjoy watching cooking shows? Not really. Like if one's on in a waiting room or something then I'll absently watch, but if I have any say in the matter then I don't know watch them.

5. Do you worry about gaining weight? Only if it affects my health somehow. Aside from a recent fluctuation from hormonal fuckery, I can usually do whatever I want without my weight changing at all.

6. Have you ever used fake tan? Nah, I've never needed to. I tan really dark, really quickly.

7. How do you organize your make-up? I just put different kinds into little ziplock bags to keep them from getting lost in my makeup bag. Pens in one, eye-shadow and eye brushes in the other.

8. Do you ever look at someone cute, and automatically make a move? Hahaha, holy fuck, I would never have confidence in my own desirability to do something like that. What would the point even be?

9. Do you live in a house, apartment, or another type of arrangement? An apartment, but I’m hoping like crazy that later this year I’m able to move into a house.

10. What’s one event your town has that you don’t like to participate in? Toowoomba has the Carnival of Flowers. I usually avoid it because it’s too hot, and too noisy.

11. Are any of your siblings married? What are their spouses’ names? Nope, though Clare (the bitchy, transphobic one) is engaged to a lovely guy named Simon who deserves so much better.

12. Does your father have any creepy or scary friends you don’t like? I haven’t spoken to my dad in years. I haven’t spoken to any of his friends in even longer. Though he’s all about being friends with Jesus, who certainly creeps me the fuck out. Does he count?

13. Do you watch any shows that you know your parents wouldn’t approve of? Ha! Literally anything that’s not conservative or whatever, they would disapprove.

14. What venue was the last real concert you went to at? Some concert hall in Brisbane, I don’t remember what it’s called.

15. Does your best friend and their mom have the same last name? Yes, no, no, yes, and half plus their dad’s last name.

16. What color is your cellphone? Black.

17. Are you currently waiting for a phone call? From whom? No, thank fuck.

18. Do you have any drugs in your bedroom? No

19. Is there a feature on your face that people compliment you on? Sometimes my eyes or my skin.

20. What are your plans for the rest of the week? Nothing, thank fuck. This past week has been exhausting and I am grateful for the chance to finally fucking rest.

21. How many studded belts do you own? None.

22. Has your partner ever had braces? I don’t think so?

23. What have you eaten today?

 A sandwich, and some spicy noodles.

24. What’s your favourite thing to do? Quietly spend socially antisocial time with loved one/s, perhaps gaming or reading, gently touching but otherwise not interacting.

25. Did you wear a jacket today? Lord no, it’s way too hot.

26. Have you kissed more than two people of the same sex? Eyyyup!

27. How many times have you had sex in one day? Twice I think? Or maybe only once. I don’t have sex very often.

28. Did you exercise at all today? Nope, but I’m scheduled for it tomorrow.

29. Would you ever move far away for a job opportunity? Only if the new location was geographically close to somebody I care about. I’ve worked too fucking hard on my relationships to waste it all by distancing myself from any more of my loved ones.

30. Are you too shy/embarrassed to tell people your middle name? Negatory.

31. If not, what is it? No bc internet, but anyone who knows me well will know it anyway.

32. What day of the week is garbage day on your street? I always forget the exact day; it’s either Tuesday or Wednesday.

33. What is something new you learned today? That it’s possible to complete Dark Souls without ever levelling up.

34. Do you need a haircut? Not a full haircut, but I do need a trim. It’s been about six months since my last one and my split ends are insane.

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? If I try, yeah.

36. When was the last time you ate popcorn? Too long ago! Probably during a D&D session.

37. Do you like eating out at restaurants? Cheap restaurants. The more expensive they get, the less I enjoy the atmosphere.

38. Is your name common? My first and middle names are semi-common, and my surname is very rare, at least in australia.

39. Do you look older or younger than your actual age? Before I transitioned, I was mistaken for up to ten years older. Now that I’ve transitioned, always younger.

40. Were you ever a Pokemon fan? Yus!

41. If you could get rid of one season, which one would you choose? Of which show?

42. Have you ever performed in front of a large group? A couple of times, yeah.

43. Are you hungry right now? Nah, I just ate.

44. Have you ever had the chicken pox? Nope. I should probably get vaccinated. 44. How often do you do laundry? About once a week.

45. Do you know anyone who snores? I do. It sucks, cause I used to not snore at all. Then randomly, about a year and a half ago, I just started snoring for no reason at all. 46. Would you make a good movie critic? I think, with some training, I could. I’m good at being analytical and critical of things. 47. What goal are you aiming for this year? 1) Move house in March/April, 2) yisit Dusty in May/June, and 3) build a computer in July when my tax return comes in! 48. What’s the farthest you’ve walked? In one day? Hard to say, I used to walk a lot but not so much anymore. 49. What does your favourite shirt look like? My current fave is just a plain black blouse. I like it because it goes with almost everything. 

... what? I’m poor, I don’t own much clothing. 50. What made you feel most accomplished in your life so far? Realising just how many people I’ve surrounded myself with who care about me. Realising that I’m going to be okay. 51. What can’t you afford but wish you could? BASIC LIVING REQUIREMENTS LIKE DECENT FOOD AND CLOTHING AND STUFF LIKE THAT

Last 10 people in your Facebook messages inbox: (excluding group chats)

1.       Moses

2.       Sage

3.       Ash

4.       Maz

5.       Kathryn

6.       Maddie

7.       Seb

8.       Chloe

9.       Tammy

10.     Ruin

1. How long have you known 1? Since the day he was born.

2. When did you meet 2? A few years ago, though we didn’t really talk til Miitomo became a thing.

3. When was the last time you saw 3? About half an hour ago.

4. Have you and 4 ever gotten into trouble together before? Oh ho ho, have we ever.

5. How old is 5? 31? I think?

6. Have you ever taken a shower at 6’s house? Nope, I’ve never been to her place at all.

7. Have you ever taken a dump at 7’s house? Haha, yeah.

8. Have you ever thought about going out with 8? Mmmmmmmaybe :3

9. What about 9? Not going out, but we’ve fooled around together.

10. Would you ever go out with 10 or ask 10 out? I actually used to want to, but now we’ve settled into a much more satisfying dynamic.

11. What’s the best memory you have had with 1? No specific ones, but watching him start animating from scratch and achieve great things has been amazing.

12. What’s 2′s lastname? nooooot my place to spill it on the internet :P

13. Would you ever take a bullet for 3? Maybe. It’s hard to say without the situation actually happening.

14. What would you do if 4 died? I’d be pretty fuckin’ sad.

15. What would you do if you found out 5 killed someone that you were related to? Depends on who it was. I’m not very close to most of my relatives.

16. Would you take care of 6 if they were sick? Of course, assuming she was close enough to do so.

17. Would you kill 7 if it was the only way for your other friends to survive? Yep. Sorry dude. If it’s any consolation, I’d say the same for literally everyone else on this list.

18. Has 8 ever cooked for you? She has not, on account of her living half a world away. But we have promised to cook for each other when we finally meet!

19. How many times have you and 9 fought? I don’t think we ever have.

20. Have you and 10 ever cried together? I don’t think at the same time, but we’ve each had times where we cried with the other, yeah.

21. Have you and 1 ever kissed? Ew. No. He’s my brother.

22. Do you ever dream of 2? They’ve been in my dreams once or twice before.

23. Is 3 a boy? Nope.

24. Does 4 have any kids? Noooope.

25. Do you want to marry 5? Nah, I don’t think we’re really suited for that. 26. How did you meet 1? it all started when my mother gave birth to him

27. What was your first impression of 2? meme master 28. Would you ever date 3? I currently am dating 3! 29. Are 4 and 5 friends? They have never met.

30. Who is 6 going out with? Nobody at all. 31. Is 7 a boy or girl? It feels weird calling him a “boy”. He is a man. 32. What would you think if 8 became your stepbrother/sister? I would wonder how the fuck her parents 1) met mine, and 2) didn’t despise each other 33. Is #9 a dork? Of course, and I love that about her.

34. What is a random fact about #10? They make incredibly tasty vanilla custard. 35. Who does #1 have a crush on? Probably his girlfriend 36. Does #2 have any stalkers? Alas, I think they do, though hopefully they’ve all fallen away by now 37. If #3 said they were in love with you, what would you say? I would say it back to them, and we would kiss, because it is already common knowledge that this is a thing.

38. Is #4 hot? My sister is an incredibly gorgeous lass and anyone she fell for would be very lucky to be with her ^_^ 39. Who is #5 best friends with? Her sister, I think. 40. Does #6 have good fashion sense? I don’t think she tries to, but she certainly doesn’t look bad or anything. Her hair is excellent for sure. 41. Is #7 single? He is not! He started dating a lovely lady recently, which was delightful to hear. Hopefully I get to meet her in a couple of weeks. 42. Would #8 and #9 make a cute couple? Ahahaha, I think they’d drive each other up the wall.

[intriquate]

I run a bath for myself and for your memory in my head, two weeks after. Your father drove thirty kilometers yesterday, just to say he was sorry. He found me cleaning the house. 'You're messy for girls,' he said. I've never been good at that sort of thing. We never lived like they did in those movies: white thick-pile carpets, low luxurious bed, box lampshades. Ours was not a world Tom Ford would be interested in. We spilt pasta on the floor and our couches were overstuffed. Your T-shirts said things like FYI - I HIT LIKE A BOY. I've held on to that one, some small trace of you . I stop up the door with towels: I think that;s how it is done. I commit myself to the water, first one foot, then the other. I read the label on the luminous can: instructions for cleaning one's carburettor. I spray until the fumes fill the bathroom and the can emits no more of its cloying varnish-sweet contents. I slip lower into the hot water. I'm reading your journal. Maybe that's not the best thing to be doing: I don't want it to be ruined.  I kissed you on the mouth three days after we met. You said it was a complication you could do without, and then you smiled. 'Saturday with Olivia - nice :)' the moment is recorded in your journal. We held hands on Lerato's couch in the aftermath of a Kirstenbosch Gardens concert. You were wearing your brother's hate. I can't explain the state I was in. I fell asleep on your shoulder. Though we have sparred since then, though we have had our silences, that moment is the one I return to.  I'm falling into the insistent hypnotism of soothing water and noxious solvent.  You ran down Long Street on your first weekend back, and you made me follow you. I couldn't keep up. We met your friends from university, the ones whose names I don't remember. 'Thabiso and Lorcia make a cute couple' Did I meet them? Is it all over now? We snuck into your parents' house at three a.m., raided the fridge. I think about that night every time I can't sleep. That shouldn't be a problem anymore. Change is absolute.  The water level is higher than I usually like it.  One Sunday you read my writing. 'If you don't show anything, you can write whatever you like,' I reassured you. You told me you were scared of what your father would say if he found out. He knows now, and I think he knew when we visited them that weekend. Your mother came by the day before yesterday, made soup. It was her way of understanding, you once said. She looks like you, when nobody's watching her.  It's two a.m. and the monotony of the bath begins to get to me. I think of nothing. My head doesn't even have the decency to spin from these supposedly toxic fumes, 'Chemical solvents,' you would have said, 'are ill-suited to the task of snuffing out a human life.' Overcome by the shame of it all, I wrap myself in a towel and place your journal on the pile of laundry I've been folding.  You never folded the laundry. You alphabetised the books. We compromised on the battle of music, but our books still jostle for space on the bookshelf, your classics alongside my crime.  You said that being black was a state of mind. I said i didn't care what colour you were. We didn't know what to call ourselves, so you'd make up something new every time someone asked. I wonder what you told people when I wasn't there. You had a thousand faces I'll never know. We travelled downtown once, looking for old records to stick on our wall. I hoped you'd take my hand when those boys were making eyes at you. You told me that we were not molecules, that we didn't need observers to watch us clank together.  The way you looked at me made my eyes hurt. Your face when you were stirring pancake batter, how you looked unbeatable at the top of the slide in the park. You were a little short for your age. People always commented on that. You took more risks because of it.  I knew, even before trying, that my attempt would fail. I can't follow you, but there's a joyous recklessness in trying.  You worried about your father. He worried about you. 'He needs to eat less salt,' you said. 'She needs to like boys,' he said. You would not be trapped by them, you vowed.  We shared the same ideal of the world's beauty, could embrace the simplicity of hummus on toast and a shiny colander. 'What will we do for money?' I asked. 'I'll write the Great South African Novel,' you said, 'and you'll wear long dresses and braid my hair.' You made my heart skip a beat. Yours skipped far too many when it shouldn't have. Like that Thursday when you grew cold and I almost crashed, driving too fast to the hospital. A heart's a funny thing. An irregular thing. I used to listen to the weird rhythm of yours. I could feel the hard outline of your pacemaker beneath your skin, below your breast. Two days in a hospital bed, and your heart decided to be still.  You said you wanted to live again, when I last dreamed of you. That was last weekend. I put your things in boxes, kept what I thought I could, gave to your parents what I thought they would want. I drove by the next day, and the day after that, in case they threw your things out. I strummed your guitar. The last thing you played for me was 'Saudade'. I asked you what that song meant. You called it a remembrance of things past.  Sometimes you yearned for the quiet life. You yearned to be skinnier. 'Nobody likes a fatty,' you said. I protested, spoke about culture, and I squeezed your waist, and you laughed. You were into plain sailing, and saying what you meant. You were for the workers, for the revolution, whenever that came.  'Stay irresponsible,' you once told me. You though great universal thoughts. I tried to keep up. That book is closed now, I guess. Time to begin another one. You purposely lost us once, just to prove that it could be done. I don't know if I can capture those moments again. In their place is a layer of loneliness which pushes down on me. It may suffocate me if I'm not careful. Maybe that's good. If I give myself over to despair, then I won't have to venture out in the sunshine like the world hasn't noticed: the leaves, the flowers. I emptied a tub of frozen yoghurt into the sink last night. It was the last thing you ate before time stopped. Time stops when your heart stops beating. The doctor said that you didn't suffer. Thank death for that small mercy. No joy in observing that terrible monster. You joked about the ignominy of slipping in the bathtub. My feet were flat, like a hobbit's feet, you said. We pressed our feet together, yours brown, mine pale. We waltzed around the flat then, high on cheap champagne and the joy of being close.  I stub my toe when I return the towel to the rack. No matter. It reminds me, I think, that I am alive.

Wamuwi Mbao 2013

[sarzonthesilver-blog]

2 They arrived on the Isle of Skye two days later they had to wait for the ferry to return they missed the launch by an hour. They got rooms for the night at a local inn and spent the day learning about the area of Scotland and its history while exploring the hills and the countryside. Sebastian and Helena stumbled upon a finding which made their hearts skip a beat. They found a significant Steele with Pict glyphs on it that matched the gate symbol on the disk. When Caladan and Trudy arrived at the Steele, they were so excited all they could do was point smile. They were on the right track. They began slowly searching the area for more clues. Next, to an old oak tree, they found another stone, much smaller than the Steele they had seen with more carving on it. It was part of the infinity symbol and matched the disk. Another half an hour searching yielded five more stone and when they assembled them most of the symbol on the disk was plain to see. This had been one stone at some time. They decided another day in the village would aid their search and booked a second night at the Inn. They spent the evening in the dining room of the Inn. The locals came here of an evening to associate, drink Stout, play darts, and spin tales. One of the village Elders came in during the night, Angus MacDonald, he lived in the village for seventy-eight years. They sat and listened to his stories of times past when the Pict was the Kings here, and the rest of the inhabitants were their vassals. They had fought the Celts, Saxons, Anglos, Vikings, and in the end, became part of the ruling class of Scotland after they converted to Christianity one thousand years earlier after the defeat of the Norman invasion when the Anglo-Saxon King Harold lost to the invading Normans led by William the Conqueror. According to Angus MacDonald, was the beginning-of-the-end of the Pict rule over Scotland. Caladan being Norse by birth, asked him many questions about the Viking invaders, the Inner Hebrides, ancient holy places used by the Pict, and if he knew of any of the places where they said were unusual to the old gods. Angus told them to look on the Isle of Skye near Dunvegan. Seek out the sea cave that appears during low tide, but be careful to get out before the tide comes in; it floods the cave. Caladan and Sebastian were excited they had a direction to follow now, and they would need to stay a few days in Dunvegan to locate and examine the cave. They bought a round of Stout for the house and settled in for an evening of good food and drinks. The villagers had treated them fair, but in the corner of the room, near the massive hearth, was an odd fellow. He didn’t seem to fit in as a native of the village, Trudy and Helena were on edge, and they could feel a power emanating from the man. He was rather large, almost as large as Yuri, had copper red hair and a short beard, was dressed in a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches and a shooting pad on the right shoulder, wearing tan riding pants, and over the calf, highly polished black boots. He cut quite a manly figure from beneath his copper eyebrows were the clearest bright blue eyes any of them had seen. He came up to them and introduced himself. “I am James Connors I have an estate not far from here and would be very pleased if you would be willing to join me for the day. Everyone here knows me and can direct you to the estate on the morrow.” Caladan agreed they would go the next day and would arrive around ten o’clock in the morning, Connors said that was a perfect time, and he would have the tea hot when they arrived. He left after the introduction and Sebastian and Caladan spent some time talking to the locals about James Connors. Angus MacDonald said, “The Irishman got the castle through his marriage to the last heir. She is a young woman of twenty-five, and I watched her grow up seeing as how my farm butts up against the border of the MacLeod Estate.” ‘You saw not to like the Irishman very much. Has he done something angered or went against your customs?” Asked Sebastian. Angus said, “Nay, he is an outsider is all, just come across the Irish Sea one day, and a few months later, he marries the young Miss Abigail, and now he is Lord of the Manor.” At least he was not a threat to worry about. Caladan continued talking to Angus as long as he wanted to talk, Sebastian and Helen had struck up a conversation with the Innkeeper and his wife, and they were getting more information about Connors and Miss Abigail as well as directions to MacLeod Manor. Caladan discovered she was a direct line descendant of the last Pict King in the area before King Harold lost the Battle of Hastings. When morning came, the group gathered in the main room downstairs, ate a light breakfast and hired a ride to MacLeod Manor. They were apprehensive, curious to find out what mysteries they would discover at the ancient seat of Pict power. They arrived in half an hour, a two-hour walk at least from the village. It was a proud place. Built of gray granite stone, and ivy clinging to the stonework, it had large vaulted windows and massive oak doors with iron fastenings. The manor seemed to be out of place as if it had been transported from a distant past to the present day. Caladan knocked on the door, and the knocker was the face of a lion with a ring in its mouth, it made a distinct hollow boom when the ring hit the door. It was unsettling, the house sounded empty from the noise of the knocker. An elderly gentleman opened the door and asked for their names then he escorted them across the main hall to a sitting room where Connor was waiting. The castle was impressive full suits of armor gleamed in the morning light as it came through the windows, swords, and Claymores shined, bagpipes and Tartan Kilts rested on stands, and a whole array of weapons was on the walls, along with the family coat of arms and paintings of former lords and ladies. Indeed a wonder to see. Connors was waiting for them in the sitting room along with his wife, Abigail. She was a lovely young woman, with fiery red hair in a long braid over her left shoulder, and wore a beautiful emerald green gown, the picture of a Lady of Breeding. “Welcome to our home. You are the group that James met in the village last evening?” they nodded, “I am Abigail MacLeod-Connors, what brings you to our fair land?” Sebastian answered, “We are here on a fact-finding tour to see if we might assist our friends in an archeological expedition here in the future to study the history of the area and the ancient people who once lived here.” He had prepared the introduction and practiced so that they would think they were just scholars looking for knowledge. It seemed to satisfy her curiosity for the moment. “Please sit, would you care for some tea, hot as I promised, and some scones made fresh this morning?” The accepted his offer and sat to have morning tea. It was a relaxing moment, and they waited to see what the Lord of the Manor was curious about. “I asked you all here because it is a rare pleasure to have visitors here, especially from America.” He paused for effect, “I would like to know what it is exactly you are here to study?” he was to the point. “We are interested in the Pict glyphs and the rune stones they left behind, we are planning to go to the Isle of Skye for an extended search of the area to map out places for our colleagues to study when they get the approval for the expedition. We are the forward team if you will.” Sebastian was well prepared. “There are some excellent sites on Skye as well as several caves here along the coast you may want to inspect on your return. Some of the runes are Celtic, but I am sure you will find some Pict glyphs here of some importance. They were here first you know.” James Connors seemed to be in command Abigail just nodded in agreement and remained silent. Trudy was on edge, the power she had felt in the Inn Tavern was much stronger here, even Helena felt it, and it was only partially coming from Abigail. They looked at James Connors more closely, trying to figure out if he was a Shaman, a Warlock, or something else entirely. James Connors gave them a grand tour of the ancient manor. It had great rooms and parlors, a huge kitchen, and well maintained and groomed grounds. The Manor employed many people from the area, gamekeepers, groundsmen, household staff, it seemed a very well managed and run efficiently, and all the employees seemed happy. Still, something wasn’t quite right about the place, it wasn’t anything specific, just a feeling. When they had finished their tour, they had a small lunch, made their farewells promising to revisit them once they returned from their expedition to the Isle of Skye. They returned to the inn to begin packing for the trip over the next morning when Caladan asked Sebastian, “Did you feel the power in that place. There is something there that is connected to this mystery, I am not sure what it is, but I know it is related.” Caladan nodded as did the women. This secret was getting stranger by the day. They hoped the next day would yield some answers to the burning questions they all had. It was a restless night, all of them had dreams of a giant tree crashing to the ground and a dragon waking and in his vengeance releasing the Ice Dragons from their prison. It was Dreams of Chaos, of floods and fires, and people dying everywhere with a vengeful God standing over all watching with glee as the destruction progressed. Caladan woke with a start, drenched in sweat and shaking, the others were as upset as he was, they all had the same dream. They were standing on the edge of a knife, solving this mystery, finding their friends, and stopping Wotan from destroying the world was their goal. They sat there staring at each other, knowing something was disturbing their magical energies in an eerie way. Restlessly waiting for the morning to come and for the ferry to start taking on boarders. The four arrived at the landing as the boat docked, it would be a few minutes before they could board, the ship had to be secured to the dock and the gangway lowered, then they could board. It was a small ferry, it took no vehicles, only people, and bicycles. There was a road, with a bridge from the mainland, but it was on the opposite side of the island of Dunvegan. The sea was choppy, and the foam-flecked waves were spraying over the rail. They enjoyed the ride. It was a rare thing to take a slow boat trip for the sorcerers, being able to open a portal to anyplace on the planet and arrive there in an instant had become their usual mode of travel. Once at Dunvegan, the real adventure would begin. Sebastian and Caladan had talked most of the way to Dunvegan, completing plans to investigate Angus’s cave once they settled into their rooms. The usual mode of transportation was a horse-drawn cart, bicycle, or on foot. The cave was situated on the coast a few miles from the nearest road. They decided to rent bikes, ride to the closest place the way could bring them, and proceed on foot from there. It was a two-hour bike ride to the cave, and they had brought food and gear in case they were unable to return to the Inn. A narrow sheep trail led down the cliff to the shore below. The terrain was steep to the front of the cave. It seemed to be rarely visited. The cave mouth was very narrow, Sebastian and Caladan had to duck to get inside. They weren’t expecting what they found when they entered the cave. It seemed that someone had been visiting the cave regularly, there were candle stubs, burnt torches, ropes, and ships tackle inside the cave. Sebastian used an enchantment to illuminate the interior of the cave. Unprepared for what they found on the cave walls and ceiling, paintings of an ancient God with one eye, carrying a staff and a spear, attended by ravens, and a wolf in repose before his feet. It was Wotan, called by many names and familiar to most as Odin, but this was definitely Wotan. The painting showed Wotan seated on a throne atop what appeared to be a celestial tree, and at the bottom, was a pool guarded by a dragon and a mysterious, hooded figure, Mimir, the goal of their search. The pool in more recent times became known as “The Eye of Odin,” but in truth, it was Mimir’s Pool. As long as it was guarded against Odin, and the tree remained whole, the dragon would sleep.

John R Moore Logo

Infinities Gate – Chapter 2 2 They arrived on the Isle of Skye two days later they had to wait for the ferry to return they missed the launch by an hour.

[1upmushrooms]

The First Rebel Chapter 3 (1up Deadfic)

Chapter 3: Dinner and a nightmare

The man's good, he's an expert at smooth talk. The idea of those de-evolving guns has merit. I should rob those blueprints once we get to the building. It still makes me wonder though, what did Koopa do to get demoted? Whatever, all I need right now is to lie low. Planning in the shadows is what got me out; well that and the fact that the security over there is horrible but nevertheless that tatic hasn't failed me now.

The Rebel sat on the ground, using his brown coat as a mattress while looking up at the ceiling; his eyes were never able to close so they just stared, not doing much else. There was a bang at the door and when he opened it, Mona was standing there with a poorly made Barbacoa T-Rex Burrito.

She shoved it at him, "Dinner's served."

The Rebel looked at the processed meal and smiled. "Thank you."

Mona scoffed, "Just eat it."

She started to walk away but turned back. "Oh and one other thing," She said, "I have to go to work at the diner so watch the kid will you?"

The Rebel raised his eyebrows, "Me?"

"Who else was I talking to?"

"Well not to be rude but shouldn't taking care of the kid be Wario's job?"

After a brief pause, both of them laughed at the idea of this as Mona left the warehouse with a grin on her face. The Rebel sat down on his "mattress" after eating the poorly made dish. Granted, he ate worse before but that was still pathetic. He was able to finish the meal however which is something he couldn't say for the crap he ate at Vista Hills.

Well, better go see how that kid is.

Surprisingly, the Rebel found the kid quite easily...he was standing right in front of him. The Rebel nearly jumped but kept his cool and waved his hand. The kid looked about 10, his brown hair was at standard length. His grey shirt was torn, his black pants were baggy, and his new stomper boots were dented. To be nice, the Rebel tried to start a conversation.

"Uh, hello there, how are you?"

The kid just stared at him with that creepily plain face.

"So uh, did you know Wario a lot?"

The kid merely sighed, "I've only seen him 5 times."

"Really uh, has he been good to you?"

The kid grew a little irritated, "I don't know, what do you think?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought, so what do you want to do?"

All he got was a stare.

"So...what's your name?"

"...Tyler."

"Tyler huh, that's a nice name."

"Mom named it for me."

Silence emerged.

My god is this kid awkward!

"So have you eaten, Tyler?"

"No."

"Well, let's get you something, where's the kitchen?"

Tyler pointed south, He and Tyler walked to the kitchen while not looking at each other. When they arrived, the Rebel opened the fridge and looked for something Tyler could eat. He found some vegetables which made him gag.

"What is it?"

"Nothing really" The Rebel said, "I just hate veggies."

He finally found some fried tweeters and some buns which were suitable for a kid he guessed so he put the tweeters on the buns, and put them in the microwave. A minute later they were cooked, and put on a plate. However instead of chowing down, most of the time Tyler just stared at him, he tried to ignore this fact but after a while couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

He looked at Tyler, "My name?"

"Yeah, I just thought I'd ask."

The Rebel thought long about this and sighed, "Well, to tell you the truth Tyler, I don't really know."

"No, you just don't want to say it. Is it embarrassing?"

"No, it's just...I feel I'm one of those people where it doesn't matter what my name is. It's what I do that counts."

"Well that's silly."

"Not really, I mean I think one could name himself or herself very easily, it's a label, nothing more nothing less. You could name yourself anything you want but it all comes down to what you do if you want people to notice you."

Tyler just looked at him and sighed, it was obvious this meant very little to him. The Rebel tried to make conversation but just couldn't get himself to say anything, nothing interesting at least. After an hour or so, the Rebel began feeling sleepy.

Well, I'm tired again. That or I'm just consumed by the awkwardness here and my mind's looking for an excuse.

Without saying goodbye, the Rebel left the kitchen and walked all the way to his room. The hallways were always shorter nowadays; either that or he was walking fast. As he opened the door, the Rebel closed it and crashed on his coat. He still felt uncertain though, like something was lagging. To solve this he tried thinking of things to sooth his mind. He finally settled on Koopa, not exactly soothing but it was the only thing he thought of so he went with it. As he thought on memories of the first day he ever met Koopa emerged.

He remembered almost everything, the room, the desk, the chair, the fact that Wario and all the other guys were there, and Koopa himself. Koopa looked extra special that day, with his groomed hair that had some blonde color to it, his green outfit that was sharper than pens, and his eyes that always seemed to be looking at you.

They were all standing except Koopa who sat on his chair with a look of legitimate intrigue. He remembered being nervous just staring at the King's royal advisor with lots of people he never even knew. Koopa broke the tension by getting up to tell them of their new tasks as the King's special crew. What his exact words were, the Rebel didn't remember but he knew it was about what they would do and what challenges they would face. Koopa then sneezed on his hand wiped them on the desk before getting a kleenex. He remembered looking surprised before Koopa assured him that they were "just germs".

The rest however was a blur as the Rebel came back into reality and saw that it had been a whole 30 minutes. He rubbed his eyebrows a bit and got up from his coat mattress. He sat at the desk and tried writing something. That didn't soothe his mind either, mostly because all he wrote about was that Tyler kid. There was another knock at the door as he suddenly broke out of thought again. Wario entered the office with a pillow and blanket. After looking up the Rebel looked back at his papers and teased,

"Don't tell me she already kicked you out."

Wario smirked, "Fortunately no. I just got these for you since you might get cold sleeping in here."

The Rebel looked at the blanket which was a car sheet and the torn pillow, not exactly high class but it would have to do.

"Thanks."

"Oh trust me, it was no problem."

After Wario left with blanket and pillow resting besides the desk, the door that led outside the warehouse opened as Mona got out and headed to the "love suite". However instead of the sound of love, there was a loud groan of annoyance.

"Who took my blanket and pillow?!"

The Rebel smirked and lied down, it may have taken a while but he finally fell asleep, only to be surrounded in a dreamed of Koopa's office, torn, vandalized, and destroyed. He was there, looking at all the chaos with a smile on his face when he saw the lizard skin chair move. After kicking it over he found Koopa, weak, and defenseless. However when he looked up at the Rebel all that came out of his mouth was a light chuckle.

The Rebel laughed through his throat as a knife crept out of his pocket. Rain continued to pour as Koopa forced himself up, torn suit and all.

"Well? Heh heh heh. What are you waiting for? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Go ahead and kill me already you gutless son of a bitch!"

Without warning the Rebel painfully pierced Koopa through his neck with the knife waiting for Koopa to fall down so he could kick him out the window. Koopa however, merely pulled it out as the wound instantly healed itself.

"Poor choice soldier."

Koopa then knocked him down as he was treated to an onslaught of punches and kicks until he grabbed Koopa's leg and managed to pull him down to the floor as well. The last bit of the dream that he could remember ended with a big blast as he woke up with sweat on his head and pain on his arm. Someone was knocking on the door.

Talk about nightmare fuel.

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

Author’s Note: This chapter, is a marked improvement over the previous chapter, mostly because we get a less cringey character for the Rebel to play off of, Tyler. The development of the Rebel’s and Tyler’s relationship from a tense acquaintanceship to a genuine friendship later on is one aspect that I think held up fairly well. Before this became a deadfic I remember coming up with several interesting ideas and plot points when it came to developing these two’s relationship. (Ideas that I may end up revealing some day hint hint nudge nudge).

I also think the way I handled Koopa was a somewhat clever idea. In the movie proper, Koopa is...well Dennis Hopper if he were a germaphobe. An over the top, hammy, larger than life dictator. So when it came to writing this fic I thought “Wouldn’t it be fun if Koopa in this story was the exact opposite of Dennis Hopper’s Koopa in the movie?” and immediately began to work. Now, Koopa was more calm, with a (outwardly at least) warmer personality and was not above wiping his germs off on a desk. Naturally, if this had continued, that persona would eventually transform (or maybe, evolve?) into the Koopa of the movie.

Also, I can’t help but notice Mona in this fic works at a diner. I only mention this because if I actually did some damn research, I wouldn’t have wasted a golden opportunity to have her work at Python’s Pizza (not only would it be a fun reference to the movie but it would also be a nice nod to the fact that she used to be a pizza delivery girl as one of her many jobs). Again, I could have done so much better with Mona.