#my brain: don’t be a quitter. Me: huh

[incomingalbatross]

GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

[turtle-steverogers]

Frustrated Steve 🤝 patient Bucky

Pls give me more

YESSSSS

i wrote a ficlet :D cuz i love this dynamic sm. really, it's just a domestic slice of life thing

-

It felt mocking, the way the cursor blinked at Steve from his blank word document, showcasing all the work that he hadn’t done, and all he still had to do. Really, it was his fault for putting off writing this article until the night before he had to send it to his PR people, but every time he’d sat down to try to write it in the last two weeks, his chest had clenched and he’d made it about two minutes before he was exiting out of microsoft. It was too intimidating. Too hard. Besides, it felt like he still had so much time to figure it out. Brainstorm. Make an outline. List the things he wanted to say. All the things Bucky had suggested he do to try and make this easier on himself. But now the deadline was here, and he didn’t have any time. Goddamn time for running out before he even realized it.

Sighing, he guided the mouse to the red exit button in the upper left. Maybe he could email his PR manager. Let her know that he just wouldn’t be able to get out this piece, and that he was sorry to Time Magazine that they wouldn’t get their Captain America spread this month. His chest clenched tighter at that thought, though. He wasn’t a quitter. He never had been.

Behind him, the office door creaked open, and Steve could hear Bucky’s familiar gait approaching. A moment later, two hands were on his shoulders, practiced fingers digging into the tight muscles around his neck. Steve sagged, leaning back so his head was on Bucky’s stomach. He looked at him upside down, and was met with a fond look of worry.

“Still up working, huh?” Bucky asked, still massaging his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Steve said, lifting his head to look back at the document. “Wrote half a paragraph, and then deleted it, because it made me sick to read. I don’t understand why I can’t do this shit.”

Bucky hummed, subtly glancing at the clock. It was nearing midnight, and Steve was starkly reminded of his school years, staying up late to finish homework he didn’t fucking get, because school was hard in general, and then he could never hear quite right or see the board very well and nothing made sense and no one wanted to explain and--

Yeah, he’d never really liked school. And school didn’t like him much either. He was always either too sick to go, or behind anyway, and it made him feel stupid. He knew now he wasn’t stupid, but that didn’t make this any easier, and those old tendrils of self doubt threatened to creep back.

“You don’t gotta stay up with me,” Steve mumbled, shrugging Bucky off. Shame coursed through his gut. Bucky would have finished this by now, probably. He was always good at managing his time, and his writing was always impeccable.

That was unfair thinking, Steve reminded himself. There wasn’t room, nor purpose for comparison, and it wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“I know,” Bucky said, pulling up a chair and sitting next to him. He hadn’t made a move to touch Steve again once he shrugged him off. “What’re you having a hard time with?”

“All of it,” Steve grumped. “I know what I want to write, but I can’t get it out of my head and it doesn’t sound right when I try and get it down onto paper and then I just chase myself in circles until I’m freaking out and-- and I don’t think I’m gonna get it done, Bucky.”

“Okay, take a breath.” Bucky’s even tone cut through the noise in Steve’s head and he sucked in a breath, held it, let it out. “If you don’t get it done, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll figure it out, but that’s still an ‘if’, pal. You just been trying to write this whole time?”

Steve frowned. “Um, yeah?” Wasn’t that what he was supposed to be doing?

Bucky hummed again, and Steve could practically see the cogs turning in his brain. “Maybe we should try a different way of writing. Your brain doesn’t work like this-- all the paragraph making and technical shit. You’re just more abstract. I’m the opposite. Neither is the correct way, or some shit. But I know you got the words in your head, we just gotta get them out onto paper.” He paused, pursing his lips. “How’s about you use the speech to text? Just talk, don’t worry about it looking pretty yet. We can go back through after and fix it up.”

Steve blinked. “Oh,” he said. His chest loosened a little; that sounded easier. Tangible steps he could follow.

Bucky smiled. “Why don’t you jot down some talking points first? Keep yourself on track.”

“Yeah, that-- hang on.” Steve grabbed a notepad and pen. While he quickly scrawled out what he wanted to talk about, Bucky cued up the speech to text feature.

“Okay, you ready, pal?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded. “Awesome. Just act like you’re giving a speech. You can look at me, if you want. I’ll be your audience.”

Two attempts and twenty minutes later, Steve had about two pages of text. It was a bit jumbled, and there were clear run ons, but the content was on the paper. He smiled, relieved.

“That worked,” Steve said, scrolling down and speed reading some of the points. It sounded pretty good, and would sound even better once they cleaned it up. “Thanks, Buck. Do you, um, would you mind helping me sort out some of the sentences?”

Bucky smiled. “Not at all,” he said, and scooted closer.

It was nearly 1:30 in the morning before Steve was sending the article to his PR manager, but he found that his skin didn’t feel so itchy. It didn’t feel like a failure.

“I’m… actually kind of proud of that,” Steve admitted, flashing Bucky a look.

“You should be,” Bucky said. “It was a good piece.”

“Thanks to you,” Steve pointed out, but Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, It was all you. Just needed to find a different way to get it all down.”

Steve smiled, and leaned into Bucky, who wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“Still, thank you for helping me out.”

Bucky kissed his temple. “Anytime, Stevie.”

-

thanks for reading, y'all!

[kawaiijohn]

DP Angst Week Day One: Birth/Creation

Ao3: here!!

Wc: 1463

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The Abyss

Waking up without any idea where you are is a pretty prevalent fear for many, and for others it's nothing more than the aftermath of a baller pub crawl.

However, most don't find themselves surrounded by a vast swirling void of lime highlighter green when they wake.

The first thing they noticed was the barren hunk of rock they'd woken up on. Grey and deep violet, yet still surrounded by the swirling neon green skies.

'Either there's a storm comin' or I'm not 'in Kansas' anymore...'

They tried to think about how the hell they ended up here, wracking their brain for any small detail, but they realized they couldn't remember anything. Not their name, nor their age- nothing was coming to them. They knew 'they' was right and so was 'he'; the words felt right, even if there was no name to match.

The more he thought, however, the more his head began to swim. There was nothing before they'd opened their eyes this morning. Or was it night? Evening??

Time didn't seem to matter here.

The toxic sky made it impossible to tell what time it was, and the purple and grey soil they were standing on made them assume they were possibly on a different planet.

What kinds of things might even live here? If anything does live here, that is. Alien life had to exist, right? We hadn't contacted them yet due to both distance and technological incompatibilities... Something clicked, filling in a blank.

'I believe that's referred to as 'The Fermi Paradox'.

He blinked, not knowing where the phrase came from. How could he recall a niche scientific theory but couldn't even recall what he'd been doing the night before??

He was panicked- trying to remember anything; his age, birthday, zodiac sign... was he a Scorpio or a Gemini? Maybe he was a cusp or something interesting...

He had to know something else... Maybe he could try and recall his Myers's Briggs personality test- then he'd find more information from inference... But not everyone fit into neat little boxes even if they were wonderful starting points...

His chest buzzed pleasantly with the train of thought, but he was no closer to an answer.

He could be in space for all he knew.

Or maybe an alternate realm...

'What, did I get hit by a truck and transported to another world?!? Is this, an Isekai or something?? ...Why do I know that word, but have no clue what my name is????'

Irritated, they looked to the horizon, spotting a floating island. He was going to dismiss it but felt something calling to them from beyond.

The feeling brought them to their knees.

They shook their head, trying to ignore the call, knowing the jump was impossible to make. It would be suicidal to take that leap...

Right?

They exhaled harshly, a strange hiss passing their lips as something vast and empty in their chest demanded they take the leap. No matter how unsafe their mind knew it was, their chest was still singing for something the horizon; calling out to that something with such pulling force it felt like a black hole would devour their common sense.

Time marched on, but they did not move.

They knelt, refusing to listen to the call until their head stopped spinning. Their knees crunched hard into the sharp gravel, digging trenches to stay grounded.

Why didn't their knees hurt from this? They've always had bad joints, especially after the- after...

After what?

They clawed the dirt, shaking in fear at what could be beyond their small respite in the lime abyss. Their mind was blank, torn between urge and indecision. They could sit here alone and think more. Or. They could follow the call.

It could be a trap.

But.

Something deep within told them they'd always felt comfort in nothing, even before this. They'd always felt comforted by the void. They didn't know what all it meant, but it was better than sitting there any longer.

So they followed their heart.

It was better to die trying than to remain a sitting duck in exile.

'Geronimo.'

They expected to die, to perish as they fell into the endless (and somehow comforting) vast sea of lime; to spend eternity gazing into long nothingness until they passed the event horizon and became one with the universe.

Instead, they floated.

They managed to fall about three or so feet before righting themself, head whipping erratically- up, down, left, right. This shouldn't be possible but...

He tested the waters (so to speak) and found he could pretty much fly. They grinned, mouth splitting farther than they remembered it being able to, but that was a mystery for later.

They sighed, relenting, and followed the siren's song.

-----

Some things seemed to be very out of place. Wrong, even.

Firstly, his hands were completely black. Not just the black of cloth, but black as the void of space- small pricks of light shone when he smiled and constellations vibrated when he grew frustrated with his amnesia. Obsidian talons (he couldn't even begin to call them hands, not with how they seemed to grow in response to his emotions) replaced what he thought for sure would be bitten nails with torn cuticles. He didn't know why he expected chipped blue nail polish.

They'd just painted their nails a few days ago and with their job it always...

'Wait... what was my job?'

Why did that confuse them? They had a job. They knew they did... It was... They brought a hand to their head, thoughts turning into radio static

'My job was...'

Faces and colors they couldn't place assaulted their mind. Names came and went, leaving nothing but lingering feelings- like a song cut off by a garbled PA announcement, the clouded memories were interrupted by crackling interference.

Claws brushed his face as black droplets rushed from his eyes.

That wasn't right either...

Nothing was right but they kept flying.

-----

Green seas shifted into a black expanse, the lime color swirling faintly in the distance instead of consuming the skies. Purple doors hovered every which way they could.

Relieved that the skies became less eye-burning, they spoke for the first time. "Thank gods!! That neon hellscape was giving me a headache..."

A pause.

That wasn't right. It didn't sound right at all.

That wasn't their voice.

Their voice was nasally, high pitched and awful. Nothing like the deeper growl they just heard... Though they were slowly panicking, the deeper voice felt right. It was something they didn't know they wanted, but it clicked as if it were natural.

But it didn't matter how pleasant it sounded, they needed to keep moving.

-----

Was it days? Hours?? Were they flying for weeks?

They didn't know, had absolutely no fuckin clue. But what did know was that they'd reached their destination.

It didn't stand out much, but for reasons unknown he felt comfortable here- at peace. His heart led him to a small island. Strange, yet familiar flowers grew in patches around a worn, yet glowing path leading to a door- black wood door with silver embossment.

"Fancy..."

He looked around- well there wasn't anything else around...

They approached the strange structure and flinched when stylish street lights flickered on with a blue-green flame. The weird vibrating in their chest sang that they were here.

This was home.

He stepped back, looking high and low. He did not trust like that. The door wasn't even connected to anything! With more investigating he saw the path reacted to his footsteps but not much else.

"Great! I get led here by the power of friendship or somethin and can't even get a break??"

He grumbled, hissing under his breath as he felt his body elongate and warp in frustration. This was all the damn door's fault!

Stupid fuckin piece of driftwood!! He ran up and kicked the offending structure, noting that he felt no pain even with an all-out kick.

In his growling frustration, however, something metal and glimmering appeared on the door- a nameplate in somehow familiar handswriting.

The void in his chest sang, something finally clicked.

"Quizz, huh?" They laughed to themself. "Thought my name'd be somethin cooler! Like Maxwell... or Levi." They crossed their arms. Progress! "Well... guess beggars can't be choosers or whatever the hell that phrase was."

They found themself hesitating. That wasn't the way to go! They were certain they weren't a quitter, even with as little as they knew of themself. No, there was an apparently magical door with their name on it that called them from across the void.

No real reason to hesitate anymore. They reached for the handle with a wicked and determined grin.

"Alrighty then! Let's see what's behind door number one!!"

[kenmashoe]

haikyuu boys asking you out

scenarios including: tetsurou kuroo, kozume kenma

a/n: I showed kuroo’s one to a friend that HASN’T watched Haikyuu and she said she fell in love with him so ig I’m sort of proud of it? just sort of!!! also I’d really appreciate your opinions and tysm for the support on my previous work!!  ♡

genre: fluff

TETSUROU KUROO

kuroo saw something different in you ever since you introduced yourself as the new girl in his class. he caught himself smiling while looking at you walking confidently to your new seat, as if you’ve been in that class for months. he liked bold people, you interested him.

so when you had the chance to show to your class how much you sucked in chemistry, he decided to act on it. “not the brightest bird in the flock huh?” you looked up and your eyes met his teasing mischievous ones for the first time. “not something I’m proud of. I really can’t chemistry.” you mumbled as a little laugh escaped his throat. “it seems like you can’t grammar either but that’s why I’m here!” he said with a very proud look on his face, hitting his chest. “you, me, studying sessions together after class. I’ll wait for you at the school’s entrance.”

and that’s how now, months later, you were sitting down in front of kuroo, squeezing your brains out, trying to keep up with him explaining a problem to you. but whatever got in from one ear, went out the other and all you could focus on was kuroo’s lips as he kept going on about some stupid chemicals, like he had done for months now.

“the notebook is down there, you know.” you went out of your dazzled phase and a blush creeped up your cheeks as he crooked his head to the side, smiling teasingly at you.

you looked away trying not to embarrass yourself more. “I can’t do it!”

“quitters are spitters Y/N!” you could hear the humour in his tone.

“I’m sure it’s the opposite Tetsurou!”

“you seem to know a lot about this shit, but can’t solve a little problem.” he faked a dramatic voice. you looked at him, pouting, but you couldn’t help the little smile that made its way onto your lips. “shut up!”

“I didn’t know you were into this type of things! sick!” he was always like this with you. you wanted to be mad at him for teasing you and to talk back, but you couldn’t stop smiling and being flustered whenever he acted this way. your heart was acting up. you had a fat crush on him.

his eyes were burning deep into your soul as a little smirk played on his lips. “kuroo!” you whined.

“Y/L/N!” he whined back teasingly, placing his elbows on the table and leaning closer to you, making it harder for you to breathe. you couldn’t look at him without going as red as a tomato.

“don’t do that,” you mumbled, looking away.

“don’t do what?” his tone was stern, but also playful, he knew the effect he had on you.

“I don’t know! that! that thing, anything! don’t do anything kuroo! aaaaaaaaaaah!” you were practically saying whatever came first to your mind. you couldn’t think straight with him being so close.

“why?” the nerve this guy had, asking you that when his lips were practically inches away from yours.

“because!” you replied flustered, raising your voice a bit.

suddenly, he started laughing. a wholehearted laugh, one that his eyes gleamed from. “I’m glad we feel the same way shorty. I CRINGED WHEN I WROTE THIS WORD now finish the problem so I can take your ass out on a proper date!”

KOZUME KENMA

making new friends wasn’t that hard for you when you first started high school. but the one guy you wanted to be friends with, didn’t share the same feelings. in fact, he ignored you when you approached him for the first time.

that only fueled you up even more though. kenma didn’t really have many friends, except that one tall older guy, you sometimes saw him with, so you were doing him a favor by trying to be his friend. right?

it became a routine for you to sit next to him in class and talk about anything and everything. he’d sometimes put his headphones on while you were mid talking or sometimes would lazily tell you to shut up. and anyone would think he actually hated you,  at some point you thought that too, but when you finally decided to leave him alone, not looking you in the eye, not because he was shy, but because he wanted to not sound too interested, he mumbled. “you’re not sitting next to me today?” of course you sat next to him. what else were you gonna do? say no?

you were both second years now. you still sat next to him in class and you still did all the talking.

you were telling him something about a fight you had with your other friend, knowing full well he didn’t really care. he had his arms placed on the desk and his head laying on his arms, a few strands of hair falling delicately over his closed eyes. you’d think he was sleeping, he fell asleep on you often, but a ghost of a smile made its way onto his sleepy tired face when you said something.

“why are you smiling?” you mumbled, moving a strand of his hair to reveal his still closed eyes and the long pretty eyelashes that curled from them. “because you’re so dumb.” he replied casually, a determined look on his face.

he moved up, stretching in a slow motion, as a yawn escaped his mouth. “you talk so much Y/N! you tire me out soooooooooooo much, you know that?” you pretended to be annoyed at what he said but a smile formed on your lips. he rarely talked, so when he did, even if he was jokingly insulting you, you always got excited when he talked! (yes kenma call me stupid, I love it TwT)

you watched him rub his eyes. “I sometimes really wonder what the fuck I’m doing with you,” he proceeded to say. you just stared at him as he turned his head a little looking at you. no expression visible on his face, except for a sleep deprived 40 old man like one. “but then again, I guess you just annoy me less than most people.”

you squinted your eyes once. you squinted them twice. what did he mean by that? and why was your heart beating at him telling you that you still annoyed him, just a little bit less than other people.

he looked at your confused face and lied his head on the desk again. that smile again. that little smile that you could barely notice, appeared on his lips again. “kenma you sure you’re okay? you’ve smiled twice today. t w I c e!” you spelled it out, also lifting two of your fingers up.

“geez just shut up!” “okay!”

he watched as a little frown was visible between your eyebrows. he didn’t care. or did he though? you actually had the audacity to make THE kenma kozume worry. he couldn’t really figured that out, could he? he stared at you for a while, not thinking about anything, he just liked looking at you and saying nothing. he just liked observing you.

he sighed and took a paper from his notebook, scribbling something on it. a little, very little, flustered blush creeped up his cheeks while he was furiously writing something. he then folded the note and slipped it to your side of the desk.

you opened it and you saw his messy handwriting. you looked at him, who had turned his back to you, looking out the window and then your eyes wandered back to the little note. your cheeks warmed up and you could swear you squealed a little. “will you go out with me?”

♡ requests are open!

[atc74]

Soul to Souls - Five

Warnings: So, soulmates, huh? Implied smut, consent is sexy

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x  OC Annaleigh 

Word Count: 1573

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​​, @katehuntington​, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and new cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89​​.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home.

Soul to Souls Master List

Dean was pretty sure that he had stopped breathing but didn’t realize it until Annaleigh reached up and placed her hand over his heart. “I, um, woah. That’s just, well, fantastic,” he said before he practically jumped off the couch and started pacing the room. She didn’t try to stop him, which he found oddly comforting; she simply waited as he worked through his thoughts and emotions. Dean continued pacing and running his hands through his hair, as if it would make more sense the longer he did it. 

“Dean, here, drink.” He hadn’t felt her as she had moved next to him until she placed a glass in his hand. He looked down at her, then at the glass, taking a swallow and feeling the smoothness coat his throat and calm him a little. “Thanks,” he replied, and she took the glass back and set it on the table.

“Sit down, Dean, before you wear a hole in my floor. Please.” She held out her hands to him. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and took them in his own. The now familiar spark traversed his skin. It was almost minute, but there. He glanced down at her hands in his, soft and delicate to the touch, even though he had experienced how strong and capable they were. He lowered himself to the couch, next to her, their legs brushing up against one another. 

All the thoughts that had been running through his mind started flowing nonsensically from his mouth. “How could He...? When did...? Is that why...? I guess it makes sense. I remember this case a while back, when we had to locate a rogue cupid, and he told us the story of our parents. How they were destined to meet and be together, but it wasn’t really about them being together, it was more about Sam and me being born, bringing together the two families; the brains and the brawn, supposedly. It was all part of the bigger picture.” He turned to Annaleigh and saw her looking up at him with those big, beautiful, blue eyes. Damn, those eyes cast a spell on him every time he looked at her. Every thought in his head vanished. All he could see were those orbs, shining brightly, like the stars they had gazed upon before dinner. 

He flicked his attention down to her lips, so full and tinged red from the wine, and he imagined they tasted like cherries. Dean leaned in, his eyes darting from her lips to her eyes and back again, silently asking for her permission. She closed the gap and gently pressed her lips to his. 

Annaleigh took the lead and slowly glided her tongue over his lower lip, encouraging him to open his mouth to her, and he did, without doubt. Their tongues moved flawlessly together, like a well practiced dance. She softly trailed her hand over his arm, up to his shoulder, coming to rest on the back of his neck. Her fingers played with his closely cropped hair at the nape. 

A content sigh left her lips as Dean pulled her closer, needing to feel the electricity coursing through his body as it pressed up against hers. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss and her hold on him. He tightened one arm around her waist, the other cupping the side of her face, wanting to feel every inch of her silky smooth skin.  

Annaleigh pulled away, and Dean swore he saw stars. He pressed his forehead to hers, their chests heaving with the need for fresh oxygen. “Red, I gotta be honest with you, I don’t know if I buy into this whole soulmate business. I don’t doubt you, not in the least, but from where I’m sittin’, God doesn’t give a damn about us. What I do know is I can’t ignore whatever it is, pulling me closer to you.”

“Let’s not worry about what He may or may not have planned. How about we just live in the moment?” she whispered, peering up at him through thick lashes. 

“Yeah, that I think we can do,” Dean agreed, kissing her lips softly. 

With him consuming her every thought for the last three days, she stood up and took his hand in hers, boldly leading him up the stairs. Dean trailed behind her like a puppy, following her every move. Once inside her bedroom, Dean couldn't wait any longer to have his hands on her again. He took her face in both hands and crashed his lips to hers, craving that now familiar spark. 

The desire to feel his skin on hers spurred her on, and she didn’t waste any time ridding him of his shirt and tie. She pulled Dean towards the bed and set to work undoing his belt and pushing the suit pants down his legs. Reaching for the waistband of his boxer briefs, she looked up wide eyed at him, when his hands took hers. He gently pulled her to her feet.

“Are you sure about this, Red? We don’t have to rush this. You tell me to stop and I stop. No questions, no regrets,” Dean paused, waiting for her consent. He knew what he wanted, but he needed her to say it, too.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Dean. I want this, I want you,” she whispered.

Dean ghosted his hands down her sides until he found the hem of her sweater and slowly slipped it over her head. His breath hitched in his throat as he took her in. Her skin was smooth and creamy, laced with freckles, almost matching his own. He reached out for her, and she melted into his embrace as he wrapped one hand in her hair and the other pressed to the small of her back. She pulled away reluctantly to peel the jeans from her skin, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and panties that were the same shade of blue as her eyes. Her beauty took his breath away.

Dean grabbed her by the hips and pushed her down to the bed gently. On all fours, he crawled over her until they were pressed together. “Last chance to back out, Red. I’m afraid I won’t be able to quit you.” His eyes darkened with passion, searching hers. Her hand rested on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, kissing her palm. 

“I’m no quitter, Winchester,” she smirked. It was all the permission he needed before he kissed her again, this time with more heat than before, pouring everything he had into it. He wanted to do this right, for her, for them.

They moved together slowly, savoring every moment. Dean sat back on his heels and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and inched them down her legs as she reached around and unhooked her bra, letting the straps slip off her shoulders as she held the flimsy fabric to her chest, taking a breath to let the moment sink in. Before her was the man she had grown to know and love from her dreams. Now he was here and moments from becoming hers. He was no longer a figment, a vision, he was real and warm, and solid under her touch. A tidal wave of emotion washed over her. 

“Are you okay? Do you want to stop? We’re moving too fast,” Dean whispered, pulling away. 

“No, that’s not it,” Annaleigh sniffed. “I’ve imagined this moment ever since God revealed his plan to me. I knew it would happen, but I was ill prepared for the feelings rushing through me. I’m good, Dean, I promise. I don’t want us to slow down.” She pulled the silky material from her chest, throwing it to the side. Watching wide eyed as he removed his boxers, she gasped when she saw all of him. Lifting one finger, she beckoned him to her. 

She reached out and ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, slowly tracing the tattoo inked there. Dean wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting her scent wash over him. Their passion lasted into the wee hours of the morning, Dean and Annaleigh becoming one, filling her room with moans and whispers of each other's names, like a prayer. The spark they had both felt ignited a fire that engulfed them, like the thunderstorm rolling in over the mountains.

As the sun peeked through the curtains, Dean propped himself up on one elbow watching her sleep. She snored softly, a content smile on her face. His rough fingertips traced mindless patterns into the satiny skin of Annaleigh’s back, placing random kisses over the freckles and tattoos he found there, taking time to discover her all over again in the morning light. Dean shifted the sheet aside, finding a small protection tattoo, just like his, on her left hip. He breathed a sigh of relief; knowing that she had it provided some security and peace of mind.

Annaleigh stirred, yawning widely. “Good Morning, Dean.”

“G’Morning, Red. Sleep well?” He pulled her into his side and kissed her passionately. She pulled away, nodding in sleepy agreement.

“So,” Dean started, looking into her bright blue eyes, “soulmates, huh?” 

“Says God himself. So what do we do now?” She giggled in reply.

“Anything we want. Let’s start with breakfast and take it from there.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @spnbaby-67 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67​

[thedepressedweasel]

Punished For Being Alive (a Badgerclops-centric shortfic (WARNING: May contain cigarette-smoking)

“Daddy! Daddy!” a young Badgerclops shouted in excitement as he ran up to his father, who was nonchalantly reading a newspaper in the kitchen table, prior to eagerly nudging him hard on the shoulder. “Daddy! Daddy! I want to tell you something!”

“What do you want, kid?” his father demanded as he turned his head to look at his son.

“Daddy, I have good news!” Badgerclops squealed in joy. “I have an imaginary friend and his name is Tony! Tony, this is my Daddy—“

Before Badgerclops had the chance to finish his sentence, his father sighed in frustration prior to slapping the newspaper down on the table.

“Actually,” his father barked, “imaginary friends are just freeloaders invented by Communists to rip off welfare! Now why don’t you do something more productive instead?! You know, like bash your head against the wall umpteen times in a row until your brain is no longer stupid?!”

“Okay, Daddy,” Badgerclops sighed dejectedly as he walked away from the kitchen. However, when he went to the living room, he suddenly saw some pack of cigarettes lying on the coffee table, as if someone left it out on the open. He was very curious about cigarettes, so he decided to pick one out prior to sloping off outside with said cigarette in tow. Unfortunately, as he lit a cigarette prior to smoking it, his mother walked in on him doing so and yet when he was about to put it out, his mother stopped him by slapping him hard across the wrist.

“Hey, don’t put that out!” his mother snapped.

“Why not, Mommy?” Badgerclops asked in confusion.

“Easy!” his mother barked. “That’s a perfectly good cigarette and, whether you like it or not, you’re going to finish it before you can put it out for sure!”

Badgerclops suddenly became petrified. First of all, his mother caught him smoking and now she was going to make him finish the cigarette that he already took from her?

“But I don’t want to—“ Badgerclops whined in horror.

“And I don’t want to be the mother of a quitter,” his mother retorted, “because I don’t like quitters! Now finish it!”

As Badgerclops reluctantly lit up the cigarette once more prior to smoking it, he suddenly started coughing and tearing up at the same time, only to have his mother slap him across the back of the head.

“Holy crap!” his mother shouted in frustration. “You can’t even smoke a damn cigarette properly, huh? Now don’t you dare cry, boy! You’d better not cry! Don’t you ever cry! You wanted this, didn’t you?!”

“Mommy, are you punishing me for smoking or stealing?” Badgerclops sniveled as he struggled to hold back his tears.

“Well, I’m punishing you for being alive!” his mother yelled.

Eventually after forcing Badgerclops to finish the whole cigarette, she finally allowed him to put it out prior to sending him to his room overnight in addition to only allowing him to eat dinner in his room overnight. Poor Badgerclops laid down on his bed and sobbed for a very long time, wondering what he had done to deserve such a terrible punishment.

Disclaimer: This shortfic is inspired by BoJack Horseman’s troubled childhood where Butterscotch Horseman berates BoJack for having an imaginary friend in addition to Beatrice Sugarman-Horseman punishing BoJack by forcing him to finish the whole cigarette after she catches him smoking. NO HATE COMMENTS, PLEASE!!! Or else you’ll get blocked!

[thewritewolf]

Two Cursed Detectives in Paris Chapter 5: A Date With Chouette

After some trial and error, our heroes finally get Adrien and Marinette on the right track.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“You can do this,” Connor said from behind Adrien, hands resting on his shoulders in what he hoped was an encouraging way.

“I can do this,” Adrien replied much less confidently, hands busy fiddling with the ring on his finger. They both watched from their spot behind the bushes at the park as Marinette sat with Eerie. Both of the girls were deeply engrossed in their conversation, whatever it was about.

“You’re gonna march over there.”

“Uh-huh.” Adrien nodded.

“And you’re gonna ask her out. Just say, ‘hey, I like you. Wanna go out on a date?’”

“But I can’t just say that!”

“Then,” Connor rubbed his forehead as he wracked his brain for an answer. How long had it been since he had done this whole flirting thing? The closest he got was hanging out with Eerie. “Maybe start off by giving her a compliment or something. Like say that her dress is pretty. Then move into the date stuff. Got that?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Now go show ‘em everything I’ve taught you, kid!” Connor gave Adrien a shove toward the girls, pushing him out from their cover. While he watched, he pulled some leaves off the bush to munch on as a side show snack.

Stiffly, Adrien walked toward them. Marinette and Eerie had their backs to him and wouldn’t notice him until he was already there. Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to go. Instead, just when Adrien was a couple feet away, Marinette burst out laughing. To Connor’s surprise, this caused Adrien to sprint away.

Adrien passed Connor’s hiding spot, letting him see just how red his face had gotten, all while mumbling to himself, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this.” Connor sighed.

“Wow… teenagers.” He stepped out from cover and went to go find Adrien. Heaven knows he wasn’t about to let Adrien go through this alone. All he needed was another pep talk and they could try again.

He spared a look toward his partner just in time to see her smile. For a moment, he forgot what he was doing before shaking himself out of it and went looking for Adrien.

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

“Do you remember the plan?” Eerie watched Marinette, trying to get a read on her thoughts. Marinette nodded, but from the way she was biting her lower lip and shifting her weight between her feet, Eerie wasn’t so sure. “Walk me through it then.”

“I walk up to… to Adrien,” Marinette said, her eyes still locked on the boy in question. “And then I give him this.” She held up the pink, heart-shaped note. Eerie worried that Marinette was going to tear it apart from how hard she was holding onto it.

“Right,” Eerie said, squeezing Marinette’s arm comfortingly. She eased up with her stranglehold on the note. “That’s all you need to do. Just follow the plan and you’ll be alright.”

“Just follow the plan…” Marinette pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay, I’m doing it.”

They both stood in place.

“...Are you sure you can’t do it for me?”

“I’m not going to be handing teenagers love letters today, thank you.” Eerie smiled sadly at her. “This is all up to you, sweetie. Just don’t overthink it.”

Marinette gave her a determined nod. “Don’t… overthink it. Right right right. I can do that. Definitely not overthinking this, no ma’am. I am not going to think about how I could trip and knock him over into the dirt, ruining his designer shirt.” She rushed forward, hugging Eerie and wailing into her sternum. Hesitantly, she returned the hug. While she wasn’t much for touching, she could tell the girl needed it. “I’m overthinking it, Eerie!”

“Take a few deep breaths with me, okay?” The next minute was spent just breathing in and out until Marinette had calmed down a little. “Feel better? Good. Now you listen to me.” Eerie put her hands on her hips. “You are going to go over there and give the love of your life this adorable little note and I promise he will be over the moon about it. Got it?” Marinette bobbed her head quickly. “Good, now go!”

Brimming with confidence, Marinette turned around on her heel and practically dashed toward her crush… only to charge head first into an open trash can. Eerie’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands. Naturally, Adrien began walking away at just that moment, being none the wiser that they had ever even been there.

Shaking her head, Eerie walked over to help Marinette out of the trash can. This was going to be harder than she thought.

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

It turned out to be surprisingly easy, if a little underhanded. Not that Connor minded that much, of course. After you’ve picked locks and pockets in the name of justice, what was a little deception to get two kids together? And really, what was so bad about a little text to each of their kids saying to meet in a certain spot? It was all worth it in the end, and Adrien had even forgiven Connor for the ruse, even if he had to let Adrien win a few matches of Ultimate Mecha Strike to help the process along.

Fast forward to a few days later and the date had arrived. Naturally, Connor and Eerie would be keeping an eye on things from a distance.

Of course, keeping an eye on them was proving harder than he had expected. Not because of anything that they were doing - Marinette and Adrien were essentially just staring into each others eyes and giggling their way through a conversation over dinner at the moment. No, it was because of his ever so wonderful partner.

Connor had long accepted that Eerie was pretty in much the same way that he had accepted the sky was generally blue and pine cones were a delicious after dinner snack. That is, it was just something that was and it wasn’t worth thinking too hard about it. But the restaurant they were at was just a touch fancy (or maybe it was just because it was French?). Which meant that they needed to dress up a little.

While they waited for their food in a mostly comfortable silence, Connor agonized if he should say anything about it. Would it be awkward if he told her she was looking especially pretty today? For reasons he tried not to dwell on, the very thought of it twisted his gut into knots. They were partners, coworkers. She was his boss and he was hers. It would be a weird thing to say.

Right?

Thankfully the food arrived and set his mind at ease like magic. Food was something he could wrap his head around. It didn’t give him complicated feelings. He was halfway towards shoveling the first forkful into his mouth when he looked across the table at Eerie.

His gut was upset for an entirely different reason when he saw her carving up a steak so rare he could practically still hear it mooing. She happened to glance up at him at that moment and saw the expression on his face, matching it with an exasperated look.

“Really? This again?” She put her elbow on the table and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You’re the one that’s always saying I should indulge my curse more. Well, owls are predators.”

“Still… how can you eat something like that?” Connor shivered and looked down at his own plate, taking a few tentative bites.

“What- Are you- Are you serious?” She leaned closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’ve seen you eat candle wax before and you’re lecturing me about a rare steak?!”

“Well, yeah.” Connor rolled his eyes. “Candle wax is good.”

“No! It isn’t! It’s not even human food!”

“You’ve never even tried it before!”

“Because it isn’t edible!”

“That’s just quitter talk.”

Eerie closed her eyes and sighed, but Connor could see the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Just… eat your salad. We need to be ready to leave as soon as the kids do.”

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

Reaching to her side, Eerie cautiously put a hand in the bag of popcorn sitting on Connor’s lap. Although he had promised he would only put normal things in it, one too many times of sharing food with him had taught her to always be on guard. Thankfully, all she found was popcorn - perfectly salted and buttered.

They were seated way in the back, practically against the wall. The stereotypical place for teenagers to hide and make out, and where she had been afraid Adrien and Marinette would gravitate towards. Thankfully, they were far too innocent of beans and ended up in the middle of the theater. With her night vision, it was easy to pick them out in the crowd. It might not have been Eerie’s choice for a first date, but they at least seemed to be enjoying themselves. She relaxed in her seat.

As Eerie reached for some more, she saw his hand moving something toward the bag. She snared his wrist and glared at him in the dark.

“‘s just some m&ms…” He mumbled, like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“A likely story. Put it back.” She let him go and he slowly dropped his hand to his side, sulking in his spot for the next few minutes.

Connor perked up and nudged her, pointing at the kids. Adrien was stretching his hands above his head, only to set one arm down behind Marinette. If she hadn’t just watched it play out in front of her, Eerie would have called it too cliche to have happened.

“I taught him that,” he whispered to her proudly.

“You taught him a move from a cheesy romantic comedy?” She whispered back.

“Yup! And it worked like a charm.”

Eerie had to admit that it did. At first, Marinette had tensed up a little, but she soon relaxed into his touch. The two of them were huddled a little closer together. Every now and again, Marinette would shake, almost as if she was suppressing a laugh.

Watching them interact was almost cuter than the movie itself, but soon enough the movie ended. Eerie and Connor almost lost them there, the sudden return of the lights making them blink in stupor.

They spotted them quickly and tailed them out of the theater, with neither of the kids any the wiser.

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

The last part of the date ended up being a walk in the park. Not in the figurative sense, but in a very literal one. As pretty as the public gardens were in the light of the sunset, there wasn’t much to hold Connor’s attention in the same way that the previous two locations had. Which meant that he couldn’t be blamed for how he got his entertainment.

Sadly, Eerie didn’t see it that way.

“Are you eating grass?” There was a hint of disgust to her voice that he had come to fondly recognize.

He swallowed the grass he had been eating. “No.”

“Can’t you at least… take in the sights or something? There is so much beauty here! It’s a Parisian garden - this is the stuff that romance is made out of!”

Connor slowly looked around. Admittedly, the scene was rather pretty, but it almost felt like it was aimed at a different audience than him. His eyes landed on a red flower that had escaped the confines of one of the garden beds. He glanced at Eerie. Seeing that her attention was in the opposite direction, he scampered over and snagged it before returning to their spot.

“What are you doing?” Eerie asked as he began putting it in her hair.

Which is precisely the moment Connor realized there wasn’t a good answer to that question. He shrugged and replied, “I thought it would look nice.” He gestured lamely at her head. “It matches your bow and your eyes.”

Connor rubbed the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed. At least, until Eerie took the flower from his hand. He looked back in surprise as she put it in her hair, much more securely than he would have been able to. She gave him a brief, shy smile.

“Thanks. I like it.”

He was about to respond when he looked past her and cursed. “We lost the kids!”

Eerie’s head whipped around and huffed. “They can’t have gotten fair.” They stood up and started walking towards the exit. Eerie tapped at her chin. “Hm… which one is closer, Marinette’s home or Adrien’s?”

“Marinette’s, right?”

“I think so. C’mon!”

Running might have seemed suspicious, but the power walk they settled for wasn’t exactly sparing them from curious stares either. They ultimately arrived at the bakery just as the two were saying their goodbyes to each other. Presumably, at least. They weren’t close enough to make out any words over the ambient noise of the city.

Although, speaking of make outs, Connor’s eyes widened when he saw Marinette rock forward on her toes and give Adrien a quick peck on the cheek before vanishing behind the door to her home. Even as far as they were, they could make out her shouted, “GOOD NIGHT ADRIEN I LOVE YOU.”

For his part, Adrien simply reached up to touch his cheek where she had kissed him. How he was still standing when it was clear that he should have melted into a puddle was anyone’s guess. Somehow he managed to walk away, a dopey smile still on his face.

Connor and Eerie, on the other hand, struggled with what they had just witnessed. They pointedly avoided looking at each other, scarlet red blushes covering most of their faces.

“It’s probably just, um… Just a French thing?” Connor said, the statement more a question than anything.

“Yeah… Yeah! The French give each other cheek kisses all the time. They’re very… very…”

“Open?”

“Yes- No!” Eerie shook her head. “Very touchy feely I mean.”

“Ha. A lot like me then.” Connor waggled his fingers in front of him, drawing a giggle out of Eerie.

“A little, I suppose.” She sighed. “Mission successful. Let’s go back to the hotel, okay?”

“You got it, boss.”

[neenahnah21]

Find my Way Back Home II

Summary: Bucky Buchanan Barnes is smitten to a four insignia military officer—you. How do you think things will unfold?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1,561

Warning: Swearing?

Bucky and Steve were now gearing up their hand wraps. Bucky didn’t thought he could still be this exhausted in a combat training since the 40’s, well that’s a huge thanks to the super soldier serum, today however was an exemption because you did numbers on them.

Natasha who’s always compose and all poise during training were now draining in sweats, if she could be a puppy she would be dangling her tongues out. Tony being Tony were non-stop at complaining barking about what a huge bitch you are and only if you’re not a god damn general how he would of have,with all his will, have you terminated.

Steve together with Bucky didn’t anticipated that their super soldier serum wouldn’t manage to keep up with all the cardio and excessive work outs you’ve order to execute.

Oh how right Sam was.

“You know she’s all great and marvellous but damn hell, theirs a reason why I enlisted in Air Force and not Marine Corps nor Army, geez, that woman was a beast” as how Sam would label you. Their’s no questioning his remark.

“Do you think I was messing around Agent?” you’ve barked while towering an agent who’s in all his fours, performing a push up for what seems like longer than a normal being could keep.

“No, ma’am” the agent replied almost out of breath, now fully slump on the floor “but I can’t keep going anymore, ma’am” he admitted, the sweat drenching him and his pale lips were a give away of how true to his words he is. You however were not having any of it.

“Yeah is that so? so you’re giving up agent?” you’ve retorted. The agent wants to argue to that, he wanted to say no, but he’s current state says the other way around.

“Are you all tongue-tied now Agent? Did I ask you a question?” that’s more a rhetorical one because you didn’t wait for him to answer. “When I ask a god damn question soldiers you answer, unless you’re deaf because surely a person who’s at least two brain cells were working and a pulse that’s beating can fucking grasp that, am I being clear as bell here?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” they all replied simultaneously.

Now you’ve looked back at the almost defeated agent in front of you.

“There’s no such thing as, I can’t keep going anymore, in my fucking vocabulary agent. In battlefield when an adversary were showering you bullets you can’t shout you can’t keep going now can you?” you taunted.

“No, ma’am” the agent replied shortly.

“Damn hell right you can’t, I don’t need a quitter in field so you either beat your face right now agents and give me twice than what I asked or you better fucking leave this facility, right this moment. Surrendering is not part of my fucking orthodox ”

All of this fold right before the teams eyes. Surely you’re hot as hell barking orders and and authoritative but hell, you’re damn scary. Authority suits you well.

“And why is that?” Bucky asked absentmindedly to Sam who’s gazed were still lingering at your form, walking around and supervising every agents that’s performing whatever decree it is you’ve employed—not fully knowing the same faith will fell before them in just a moment.

“Hell man, can you see that?!” Sam retorted incredulously.

“Surely, she’s most favoured among persons in authorities, government and sovereign figures but geez, she was despised by the soldiers. I don’t even want to be in a regiment under her supervision” Now Bucky was picturing out how would it be being under her division supervision, being near her all the time, getting the glance at her once in a while. His fondness were clouding the best of him so once again he asked Sam unwittingly why is that.

“Man, I’ll be dead before the war could even freaking start” Sam only answered.

The light tap on Bucky’s shoulder brought him back to the present, he looked at his friend and dazedly ask what’s the matter.

“Are you ok punk?” Steve asked his friend seeing how preoccupied Bucky is for the past few hours, hell even days.

“Huh?” he asked absentmindedly again. The look of confuse Steve gave him snap him out of it.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be” he said shrugging of the image of you out of his mind. Damn, the things you do to him and the other parts of him.

Steve were not fully convince to Bucky’s answer but decided to leave it be, Bucky would come around sooner or later on his own accord. The last thing he wants was to pressure his old friend.

In the middle of the silence that finally settled in, Bucky broke it.

““I’m not saying this out of prejudice but don’t you think she looks too young to be general?” he asked out of the blue. Steve would only looked at him though, a little frazzled and puzzled. Then it dawns to him what his friend were implying.

“Oh, you mean y/n” Steve asked cautiously.

“Yeah, y/n” Bucky repeated.

“They really did racked up your brain that bad huh” Steve remarked, and though Bucky was confused by his friends comment he was for a moment distracted by your presence, looking at you intently while you’re walking in—once again granting them your glory. Damn you look hot as hell wearing that training attire. When did a pair of black leggings and a sports bra look that damn good, surely there must be a law that restricts a person to be this damn exquisite. He’s growing hot.

“Huh?” Bucky asked again, surely a drool have already fell on the floor if he was a dog, thankfully he’s just an adorable human puppy.

“Don’t you recognize her? Everyone who’s at least served the government even for a while must of have at least heard of her” Steve stated as a matter of fact and Bucky only shrugged his shoulder, a no for an answer.

Surely, he would of have remember such a remarkable woman of this time. Of his time.

“No idea, how even old the fuck is she?” he commented, now finally deciding to fully pay attention to sheathing his knuckles with the hand wrap—which was slightly dangled and out or order because of how haphazard he was for the previous minute. He need to distract his self from you or else he would find a hard time having his release. You’re so damn hard to persuade in giving them in between breaks.

Unless you’re already dripping and your balls are exploding if not, then keep it still in your pants.

He was too engrossed at perfecting his craft that he didn’t notice his friend’s very sudden alternation of mood, the silence that suddenly lingers and the stiffness that replaced his friend’s relaxed physique. He didn’t even heard you nearing their direction. It is even unbeknownst to him your sudden presence when their back was facing yours.Unlike Steve who was now completely aware of it, Bucky remains indubitably oblivious and continues to throw his friend remarks about you.

“And I mean I don’t suppose she’s been in the military since she’s an infant, now could she” he said and when he looked up he saw how his friend looked so flustered, he only saw Steve like this during those times where they were being reprimanded when they were caught in the middle of doing something they were specifically told not to, shenanigans which were of course Bucky’s idea—Steve was too righteous at breaking laws and causing ruckus. And sex.

“I’m afraid that is no mans land Mister Barnes so I suggest you better start moving your arses” Bucky suddenly stiffens upon hearing your voice and with a new record of speed he was suddenly facing you. Upon confirmation that you were indeed standing right before them,

embarrassment started to sink in. Bucky felt like a child again being caught doing something he shouldn’t. Steve who’s standing just beside him were bewildered, if he’s not too caught at his own predicament he would of have interrogated his friend of how red as a tomato Bucky was. Luckily they were both a mess under your gaze.

Never did Steve saw his friend so flustered. Bucky was usually smug and fully confident, even in the 40’s. Always the ladies man, which was probably one of the reason why he was so phlegmatic and always so sure of himself but not in a case that you would mistake it with an excess arrogance. He would held his self with such poise and grace, never this shy nor timid but for some reason you seems to make Bucky so weak on his knees. Like something that is so fragile and delicate. Definitely not how his usual self would be.

“And I mean now! move chop chop!” and that was what snap both super soldier out of their dazes, seemingly to finally collect their self again from their embarrass and immobile state. They were like a children caught eating cookies even after they were told not to because they already brushed their teeth or a kid caught up playing even after their bed time.

Oh the things you can do, even to a group of super heroes.

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

💥🌸🔮💛 for Floyd Ray and Llyr! C:

Ah thank you Marti!!

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

Floyd: already answered this with him and it was quite lengthy so linking the post with it right here!

Ray: Alright let’s do this. Ray does Not like to deal with sadness, and especially not grief. Anything that will impact him and cause prolonged sorrow is something he will desperately want to block out because those feelings feel Awful. Being the workaholic he is, this is usually trying to work through those feelings while doing anything he possibly can around the ship. In some more extreme situations, this spreads to roping in the rest of the crew with him, assigning more work and trying to keep everyone occupied so he doesn’t have the time to break down. 

Reasons behind it? I’m actually not sure. There’s definitely something there about why Ray is so insistent on keeping things upbeat and morale high most of the time but, I’ll be honest, he hasn’t revealed a whole lot about his backstory to me yet. I don’t know much of where he came from and what led him into piracy, but I do know a lot about who he is right now.

Llyr: Oh Llyr hates the feeling of humiliation or inferiority. A lot of his time in his story has been spent desperately trying to avoid that but, uh, yeah that hasn’t quite worked out despite what he likes to think. So he’s been miserable and rightfully so. 

The entire concept of him turning to his human form for the first time and immediately this species he’s considered inferior to himself for so long has power over and has to take care of him is. So overwhelming and such an unbearable feeling for him.

The only reason behind it is he was just raised like this. His parents were very against humans, having only had and heard of bad experiences with the species and decided using their human form was just a waste of time and energy when they could have a perfectly happy life living in the sea. They thought very highly of themselves and their family/species and taught that arrogance to their children.

cut because this got Real Hecking Long sorry my dudes

🌸 What’s a sentence that would make your OC’s day better? One that would make them laugh? One that would make their day worse? Why? What words would you have to say to them to completely ruin their day?

Ooooh okay this one’s gonna take some thought.

Floyd:

Make his day: “Need a hug?” or, alternatively but only from Ray, “Wanna cuddle?”

Make him laugh: *merciless tickling* or one of Ray’s puns might get a chuckle out of him. It’s gotta be a new one, though, he won’t take any of that recycling jokes bs.

Worsen his day: “What’s wrong with you?!” or “Why don’t you tell us anything?”

Ruin his day entire life: “I never liked you to begin with. It was all just pretend, moron, can’t you understand that?” or, if you prefer whumper feels, “Good morning, Benedict.” or Anything involving his first name really.

Ray: 

Make his day: “Thank you.” is usually a safe bet, or “I love you.” from the right people.

Make him laugh: any opportunity to tell a bad joke will make him giggle and everyone else groan in advance :3. for example...

The crew is going fishing and at some point someone speaks up, talking about something they saw in town.

“We might need to set sail again soon. Saw some suspicious behavior earlier and I don’t think we want to be part of that.”

Ray hears this and instead of considering the implications of those words, starts to giggle uncontrollably. Heads turn his way with inquisitive looks, and some of them soon fall into despair as they realize what’s about to happen.

“Oh, so, you’d say...” Ray trails off into silence. Everyone’s sweating nervously, waiting to get the punchline over with. The air is thick with tension. “...it’s pretty fishy around here?” A collective groan escapes everyone, but one or two people nod their approval and laugh a bit. The pun sympathizers have a special place in Ray’s heart. Mabel turns to look at him.

“Ray... please...”

“What?” he asks, grabbing the woven ropes they’ve been using to catch fish. “Are you saying that’s net what you wanted to hear?”

“No, it.. I’m...” Confusion And Concern Intensifies

“Come on, no trout these are the best jokes you’ve ever heard. There’s nothing to be scaled of!”

Mabel.exe has stopped working.

Worsen his day: “Ray, I found another problem with the ship--”

Ruin his day: *heard from afar* “Walk, Benedict, we don’t have all day,” followed by the clinking sound of a leash being pulled taut and a strangled yelp. (though, thinking harder into it, this could also make his day. hmn, we’re getting into spoiler territory so I think I’ll leave this up to imagination)

Llyr:

Make his day: “You’re free to go,” would be a nice one right about now.

Make him laugh: “You trust me, don’t you?” might get a small chuckle if said by a human, depending on his mood.

Worsen his day: “Kneel, brat.”

Ruin his day: “I know you’re a selkie.”

🔮What does your OC think is their best trait. What is actually their best trait? What about their flaws? Are they one to admit these flaws or do they like to pretend they’re perfect?

Floyd: Oh hmmm,,, for Floyd this is definitely a complicated one. I think he would eventually settle on his general ability to help others. His most prominent duty on the ship is often more social or medical matters, considering he isn’t especially strong. Like yeah he can do pretty hard physical labor, but not as well as some others. Braining things are more his groove, thinking stuff through and all that.

His actual best trait? Well he’s not as far off as I thought he’d be. His compassion is one of the best and most defining parts of him. It’s not really as much of sympathizing with people as it is just understanding people. He thinks people through well, often good at seeing what someone is like after watching their movements and expression after years of developing that skill for survival. Finding out what will please versus anger them can help him greatly. 

Floyd has a hard time deciphering Percival. He’s just a mess and that makes it really hard to find things the man wants. Well, other than what he asks of Floyd. And doing magic just to get hurt really isn’t his cup of tea most of the time so it’s a bit of a struggle huh.

Ray: Ray definitely thinks of his own compassion as his strongest trait. He tries his best to be understanding and kind, encouraging an atmosphere of love and positivity and offering his help to anyone who may need it. However, this is very prone to get him into trouble and comes in as a flaw just as often as it is positive. He has more of a emotion based compassion than Floyd’s logical thinking based compassion, and even though it allows him to be open with people and vulnerable when he needs it, it isn’t always good.

No, Ray’s greatest trait is his unwavering determination. He is the embodiment of Not A Quitter, and even if it may look as if he’s tossing in the towel and giving up, give it an hour or two and he’ll be back on his feet and trying to push himself too far and put himself in harm’s way all over again. Though this can also be very unhealthy and manifest in worse ways for him, it stands as his best trait to me because it’s so often positive and is the main reason he can effectively lead his crew. He has so much faith in all of them and in himself and that doesn’t give them much room to doubt his abilities.

Llyr: Ahhhhmmm okay. Llyr. He doesn’t have a whole lot of best traits huh. Well. He is resilient. I’ll give him that. He does a good job of hating on mankind through all the hurt he’s already going through. Because yes you’re still Very superior to these people easily dominating and hurting your dumb ass, buddy. Sounds About Right Huh. Listen we are just in a Salty About Llyr mood tonight because he’s. So spiteful. And as much as I love him for it, I’m also sitting here like “........you petty little bitch.” so hm I think that’s all the brain machine is gonna give for this question in particular.

💛 What is your personal opinion of this OC? Do you love them or are they your trash child? Are they your baby?

This was asked last and I’m answering it first because I’m laughing so hard I love this question.

Floyd: Ohhh Floyd is so babie,,, I feel so bad for him because the more I think about him and his character, the more awful stuff I realize he’s been through. And he’s the one still around here getting hurt, in Persistence at least. I love him and he’s wonderful.

Ray: Y’all, I’m love Ray so, so much. He’s really grown on me and considering what I have planned for him in both stories he’s in, he really do be in for it now but I’m so excited to see him deal with these struggles and overcome them. He’s so protective and headstrong at times and I love him so much for it.

Llyr: INDEED THE TRASH CHILD OF THE FAMILY!! HE’S SUCH A STUCK UP, EGOCENTRIC BRAT AND YET HE IS MY CHILD AND I’M ROOTING FOR HIM TO BE LESS OF A JERK EVEN THOUGH HE’S NOT COOPERATING WITH THAT. 

[xoluvx]

Hello! How are you? I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a fic request? Maybe with Steve Roger's finding out that the person he's dating is a stoner, and she eventually convinces him to try some (bong rip haha). Cute fluff Insues? Thank you 💙

Omg.. I’ve never written a Steve Rogers piece. I think this will be the only time! My knowledge of Steve Rogers is limited & I’m def gonna butcher this 😅 pls enjoy.

Dating Steve was great. Fabulous. Except when you needed to smoke and you went to the only room where you could do it in peace without judgement. Your basement, which thankfully had a small window that aired out the smell.

You loved Steve. Of course you did. But he was .. well Steve. Goodie two shoes Steve. Captain America “don’t do drugs, kids” Steve. And you, well you needed the relieve from work. From life. So your basement was kind of your best friend.

You were leaning against the wall, pipe in hand. In your other hand was your lighter.. with the Captain America shield. How funny, huh? You held the pipe to your mouth, cheeks hallowing as you flicked the lighter on. You watched the weed crinkling, releasing your thumb from the hole in your pipe inhaling the smoke. The familiar feeling infiltrating your lungs.

Repeating the familiar routine, you were just finished inhaling when you heard the stairs creaking. Before you could panic, Steve stood at the end of the stairs. Hand on the railing, eyes confused. Lips in a tight line.

You exhaled, coughing from the premature release of the smoke in your airway. You felt like a child who was about to be in big trouble. So you did what most teens who get caught would do, hide the pipe behind your back and really hope Steve wouldn’t notice.

“Is that?” He motioned towards the pipe behind your back before waving his other hand in front of his face as to bat the smoke that was lingering the air but very obviously would not go anywhere.

You cleared your throat, shoving the lighter in the back pocket of your jeans. You placed the pipe carefully on the window sill, your precious weed shouldn’t have to suffer from this. You approached him at the stairs, your eyes nervous and demeanor up in defense.

“Um. Yeah,” you croaked shrugging watching his face, he was still processing things in his brain.

“But how long?” His voice was flat. Jaw clenching as he folded his arms, his biceps bulging. You let your eyes linger for a few seconds before refocusing.

“I wanted to tell you, but I know you’re you. I know you wouldn’t approve,” you spoke; now really feeling like a child. Nothing really came out of the conversation the two of you had. It was agreed that you were both adults in a relationship and you should act as such. He couldn’t reprimand you for enjoying the occasional joint.

And he didn’t. He respected the lifestyle, though he made it clear it simply wasn’t for him. And you didn’t pry. No matter how much you wanted to get him to try it with you.

Until one night. The night you felt bold. Bolder than usual.

He was reading a book on his favorite couch when your entered the room. Your most valuable bong in hand. Your baby, truly.

“I think it’s time you meet my baby,” you announced walking into the living room. Small pink bong in hand. Fuzzy socks and his t-shirt.

He lowered his book, watching you enter the room. A small smile on your face as you held up the bong. “I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with this. But I really think it can be a great bonding -“

“Okay,” he cut you off before you could finish placing his book on the coffee table. “I’m in,” he said standing. His hands on his hips.

“Okay we should probably go-“ you started. “To the basement.” He finished. You nodded leading the way.

The two of you sat on the run down couch in the basement. The bong rested on your thighs as you broke the nug that would go in the bowl of your bong. “So, think of it like a mission. There’s a plan, right? Certain steps you need to follow,” you rambled holding the bong up gently in your non-dominant hand, the lighter in the other hand. You were careful of the water as you held on to the bong.

You lifted the lighter showing it to Steve. Then you held the bong up to your lips. You pursed them, pushing them into the opening of the small bong before turning the lighter on. Steve watched the way you lightly grazed the bowl, watching it’s contents slowly burn as he heard the sounds of the bubbles forming in the bong. You were a pro. Inhaling smoothly when you removed the bowl from the bong. When you exhaled, you tilted your head back letting yourself bask in the smoke. Flawless execution he thought. No way he’d be able to do that.

But he had to before long you were shoving the bong towards him. He retracted it from your hands carefully. It looked tiny in his hands compared to yours. You whispered some words of encouragement as he pursed his lips repeating the steps. At least, as many as he could remember. He was sure he did it all wrong because he was having a coughing fit after inhaling. Or maybe he did do something right?

“We can stop,” you half laughed half felt bad.

“No, let me try again,” he was determined. If there was one thing you loved about Steve apart from his muscles it was that he was no quitter. And he wasn’t going to stop until he looked at cool as you did in his execution. And you couldn’t help but smile like a doofus because you’d just influenced Captain America to smoke weed. Plus he was your boyfriend and that was the real high.

[thekpopkave]

I Still Hate to Love You (Chapter 2)

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕦𝕤 :: byun baekhyun/ park chanyeol, college au, enemies to friends to lovers au, fluff and angst (possible smut later!)

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 :: 10.7K

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 :: this is the second chapter of our series! hope you guys enjoy :D feedback and requests are welcome as always - admin 🐨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are few things that scare Park Chanyeol.

Even while it seemed like he was a natural talking to people, he still had to wipe his hands on his jeans before he even left his house. So imagine his elation when he walked away from a table with a cute boy’s phone number. Granted, the cute boy hated him (for some reason), but it was a start. Mama Park didn’t raise a quitter. He would do anything to make Baekhyun see him differently. 

“What’d you do now?” Kyungsoo’s sharp eyes caught his gaze and he frowned. 

“What’d you mean? Why do I have to have a reason to smile?” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shot up and Jongin giggled. 

“You’re always up to something,” Jongin said, and Chanyeol shook his head with mock hurt. 

“I am shocked and offended that my own friends would say this about me. That’s slander, you know.” Kyungsoo gave him one last side glance before turning back to his lunch. 

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to have to clean up after you.” Chanyeol couldn’t help but look over at where Baekhyun sat, his ears heating up. 

“No, no cleaning up after me. I’ve got it all under control.” Jongin followed his gaze and gave him a look. The tiniest of smiles crept across his face, making Chanyeol feel slightly uneasy. 

“What?” he asked. Jongin’s eyes grew playful as he watched Chanyeol drink from his cup. 

“Your face is red. What’d he say?” Chanyeol looked down at his food, feeling very exposed suddenly. 

“Who said what?” Kyungsoo snorted, not looking up from his food. 

“You can’t lie to us, we know you.” Chanyeol looked at Jongin, with his big eyes and felt his face grow warmer. 

“I’m not lying about anything,” he said, which sounded weak even to himself. 

“Everyone knows how Baekhyun feels about you.” Chanyeol tried not to let Kyungsoo’s words affect him, but he could feel a tiny splinter of hurt in his heart. 

“I never did anything to him, I don’t know why he hates me.” Ever since they had met, Baekhyun had nothing but disdain for him and everything he did, and Chanyeol wasn’t able to ever figure out why. 

“I don’t think he hates you,” Jongin said soothingly, his eyes now soft. “Maybe he’s just conflicted, moving to a new school is hard. Plus you do come on pretty intimidating to people when they first meet you.” He reached out and patted his hand and Chanyeol managed a smile. For some reason, knowing that Baekhyun didn’t like him really unsettled Chanyeol. He had always been a friendly person, he thrived as the center of attention, and his charisma had helped him get past some less impressive parts of his life. It was just something about Baekhyun that made Chanyeol determined to be liked by him. He glanced over at Baekhyun’s table again, watching as he waved his fork around, talking to Jongdae with expressive eyes. Something in his brain settled, and he felt himself smile. 

“I guess I should just get used to it then.” He took a bite of his food, still smiling. Chanyeol would just have to do what he did best then. 

***********

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Chanyeol looked over at Sehun, eyebrows raised. They were walking home from the gym in relative silence, Chanyeol messaging Kyungsoo to ask (more like beg, Kyungsoo was mean) for dinner when his brother spouted this random fear. 

“What?” Sehun’s brows were drawn together firmly and Chanyeol couldn’t help but laugh a little. He still looked like a kid when he did that. 

“How do you know when you like someone?” Chanyeol stopped, his eyes going wide. 

“You like someone?” Sehun’s face grew pink and he looked around, shushing him. 

“I don’t know if I like anyone yet. I mean. There’s someone but I don’t know-” Chanyeol grabbed his brother’s shoulders and shook him slightly. 

“Why haven’t you mentioned this before? What’s their name? Where’d you meet them? Are they cute?” Sehun looked overwhelmed and embarrassed, his ears fully red now. 

“Okay, calm down. This is why I don't tell you these things.” Chanyeol let go of him but kept his wide eyed gaze on his little brother. “Her name’s Irene Bae. She’s in my English Comp class. We got assigned the same topic for an essay and she had to grade mine. Yeah, she’s cute.” Sehun had the smallest of smiles as he spoke, like he couldn’t quite help it, and Chanyeol beamed. Sehun wasn’t the most open person ever, he liked keeping quiet about his feelings and personal things even with his own family, so Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel a little proud at being the one he turned to. 

“Irene huh? I’ve seen her around. She’s studying journalism right?” Sehun nodded, his face lighting up. “Yeah, I see her by the science building most mornings. I could talk to her about-” Something in the window of the cafe they were passing by caught his eye, and he stopped in his tracks again. 

There was Baekhyun, in all his tiny glory, hunched over his computer with headphones on, mug in hand. His brow was furrowed like it was when he glared at Chanyeol, and his bottom lip stuck out as he pouted at his screen. It was the absolute cutest thing Chanyeol had seen since himself. Sehun’s hand blocked his view and he startled. 

“Dude, you’re staring.” Chanyeol blinked quickly at him before shaking his head. 

“No, I'm not.” Sehun squinted at him for a moment, glancing through the window before he smirked knowingly. 

“Oh. Right.” He walked away from the cafe window, and Chanyeol hesitated, shooting one last look at Baekhyun before darting after Sehun. He spent the rest of the walk home avoiding Sehun’s pointed questions and asking some of his own.

A plan was forming in his head to help Sehun in his time of crisis, it seemed like he thought Irene would blow him off and not give him a second look. But Chanyeol knew how to work past that kind of thing. They got to his place, Sehun still trying to pester something out of him about Baekhyun, and clattered into the living room, seeing Kyungsoo and Jongin on the couch studying. 

“Do you have to be so loud all the time?” Kyungsoo asked, his tone unimpressed. Chanyeol noted the slight flush to his face and raised his eyebrows. Jongin was quiet, his face also flushed but his eyes wide as he looked up at them. 

“Yes. I do. It’s a contract I signed from birth,” he said, smiling widely when Jongin laughed. 

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, still smiling as Kyungsoo got up from the couch muttering to himself. 

“Leftovers,” Kyungsoo said to Chanyeol before disappearing into the kitchen. Sehun left to borrow Chanyeol’s shower, leaving Chanyeol with Jongin, who seemed to be a little uncomfortable now that they were alone. 

“So, what’s up with you guys?” Chanyeol collapsed onto the couch next to his friend, his arm coming across the back of the couch. Jongin leaned back, resting his head on Chanyeol’s arm. 

“I don’t know,” Jongin said, his eyes a little sad as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Sometimes I think-” He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sometimes I think we have something special. But then he just,” Jongin waved a hand around and Chanyeol hummed. 

Kyungsoo and Jongin had been tiptoeing around each other ever since Chanyeol had met them, sometimes they were more like boyfriends, and sometimes they were just guys who lived together. Their relationship was the source of many tear filled conversations between Chanyeol and Jongin, and many stiff, cold ones with Kyungsoo. 

They were an excellent example as to why Chanyeol liked avoiding the whole love thing, at least for now. In his mind, it didn’t make sense to break yourself over such trivial things like feelings, especially at the prime of youth. He had a lot on his plate already, a double major in film and business, plus his part time job all kept him busy enough to make love something secondary.

Besides, he had Yixing and Junmyeon. They were more than enough right now. For some reason, the thought of Baekhyun fluttered to the front of his mind but he pushed it away. 

“Kyungsoo’s clueless sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt you,” Chanyeol said, pulling Jongin into a brief hug. “Personally I think you can do better than him,” Chanyeol jokes, making Jongin snort and pull away from him. 

“Yeah, but maybe I don’t want to.” Jongin’s eyes were big and emotional, and Chanyeol found himself feeling something swell in his stomach like butterflies. 

Jongin really liked Kyungsoo, that much was apparent. Chanyeol could only ever guess what that felt like, to care so much for someone in such a deep way, but the way that Jongin looked at him now was making him wonder. Maybe he wanted to know that feeling. 

They sat on the couch in silence, Jongin leaning against his arm like a pillow and Chanyeol quietly pondering. Sehun came out of the shower after a few more minutes and Chanyeol took his turn to wash the gym smell from his body. After he got dried and dressed, Kyungsoo announced that dinner was ready and they all sat at the table to eat. Kyungsoo had a real gift with food, even his leftovers were amazing. 

Sehun left a little after eating, saying he had to do some school stuff even though they all knew he was probably going to play video games for the rest of the night, and Chanyeol decided to let Kyungsoo and Jongin work their own issues out alone. He went to his room and took his phone and the crumpled napkin piece Baekhyun had thrown at him. The thought of Baekhyun’s scrunched nose as he wrote on it made Chanyeol smile, and he unwrapped the napkin. He sat on his bed and opened his messaging app, typing the number in and preparing to send a text.

Chanyeol was a natural texter, as someone who struggled to face people in real life, he always found himself able to communicate better with a screen between himself and others. But for some reason, words wouldn't come to him at that moment. He wrote something before deleting the whole thing, horrified at the way he had written it. 

Why was he so nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about, it wasn't like Baekhyun could dislike him any more than he already did, plus Chanyeol had decided to bother him until Baekhyun gave in. He wrote a few other attempts at a text before throwing his phone aside and sighing. He threw himself beside it and ran his hands through his hair. Again with the nerves. 

If I didn't know any better, said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Kyungsoo, I would say you actually like Byun Baekhyun. He closed his eyes tightly. He didn't. Baekhyun was cute, sure, but he was way too much of a tightass for Chanyeol. Plus he hated his guts, which was a pretty big turn off. Chanyeol just wanted to deal with this project and maybe make Baekhyun stop hating him. That was all.

He clapped his hands and sat up, grabbing his phone. He glared at it for a second before opening it and going to the messaging app again. He typed with a fury and finally sent a message. He looked at his phone for a minute, rereading the message. He hated it. Holy shit he hated it. He groaned, falling back into his mattress with his phone clasped to his chest. He lay there, wondering if he could jump out of his window without causing damage to the rest of the dorms when his phone pinged. 

He scrambled to check it, letting out a little victory whoop when he saw Baekhyun had texted him back. Oh. He frowned at his phone for a moment at the sharp question Baekhyun had sent him. A smile slipped onto his face when he pictured the way Baekhyun was no doubt glaring at his phone. He was adorable, this would be too much fun. He shot back a reply and waited. Sure enough, Baekyhyun's snappy response was quick, and Chaneyol grinned to himself. He was about to respond before he caught himself. Maybe he shouldn't answer right away. 

His mind churned with ideas and he put his phone down. Baekhyun was nothing but impatient with Chanyeol. To get the best effect, he would have to wait. He decided to look at his work schedule and think about what he had to do for the project in film history. He might want to bother Baekhyun but he wasn't going to let the whole thing bring his grade down. The scholarship he had would disappear if he let himself slip too far, and then he would have to explain to his family why he suddenly couldn't help them with their future. 

He finally decided to write back to Baekhyun, sending him a few dumb jokes he knew usually made people flush and stutter when he used them in person but he knew Baekhyun would find annoying as fuck. Finally he asked if Baekhyun was free the next day to work together, hoping he would say no so he could pester him about it. He sat back, a grin on his face as he saw the message be read and no sign of a response. Surely Baekhyun would say no because he thought he was irritating, and Chanyeol would be saved from him for a day and he could laugh at him. He felt his smile widen as he saw Baekhyun typing after a couple minutes, fully prepared to shoot back a teasing message. 

Sure. See you then. 

Chanyeol's smile vanished, and he stared. He said yes? Holy shit. He blinked and put his phone down. He hadn't prepared for a yes. What was he supposed to do now? His mind spun before he landed on an idea. He snatched his phone up again and looked for a specific contact. 

Hey, you free tomorrow?

``````````````

[sapphicscholar]

Pride Month Prompts Day 13: Graveyard Shift (Vasquez/Lucy)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much, maybe at all. They won’t be going on AO3, so I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you want.

Day 13: Graveyard Shift

Pairing: Vasquez/Lucy

“Happy New Years to us, huh?” Vasquez asked, rolling their chair along the row of monitors that were, as they had been for the past several hours, rather quiet. Apparently even extraterrestrial threats thought New Year’s Eve should be treated as a holiday—hence the almost non-existent staff at the DEO’s desert base. Downtown? Sure, they got a few revelers who got a bit too drunk and caused trouble—enough to warrant keeping a team of agents on hand. But out here where they dealt primarily with long-term threats and research? Not so much.

“Beats going to a party and having the fun choice between standing alone when the ball drops or dealing with some drunk guy acting like he’s my knight in shining armor for offering to make out with me, as if it’s some great sacrifice on his part.”

“No way does anyone call making out with you a sacrifice.”

Lucy shrugged, her cheeks warming slightly at the earnest quality to Vasquez’s voice.

“I’m always stuck being DD.”

“Really?”

Vasquez spun their chair around. “You mention one time that you don’t really drink, and suddenly everyone thinks they can get as wasted as they want every time with a guaranteed chaperone to get them home in one piece.” They dragged their toes along the ground, slowing the movement of their chair. “And like, yeah, I’m not gonna leave anyone behind, but some nights it’d be nice if I could let loose a little. Not get drunk, but, you know, go to a different bar if the music sucks. Stop for a late dinner at a place that isn’t greasy fast food afterwards. Go home with someone. Not have to worry about throw up in your backseat.”

“Ugh, yeah, that doesn’t sound particularly fun.”

“It’s not. Especially not when it’s an every weekend kind of deal.”

“Well…is there anything we could do to make tonight more fun?” Lucy bit back a smile at the way Vasquez’s cheeks flushed as they rubbed at the back of their neck.

Still, they managed to come up with an answer after a few seconds’ delay as their brain ground to a halt, then restarted itself anew. “Um, you watch Brooklyn 99, don’t ya?”

“Okay, I’d do a lot of things for you, including taking a bullet, but I won’t get my ass handed to me for using our good fire extinguishers for a chair race.”

A loud laugh met Lucy’s words. “I was thinking more that we could see who can last longer without standing up. Like Rosa did with Hitchcock and Scully.”

“Oh! Yeah, alright.” After a moment, she tilted her head slightly. “Though is that really any different than anything else we’re already doing?”

“Good point. Hey, why don’t you go to the vending machines and get some things of M&Ms. I have an idea that I’ll get all set up while you’re gone.”

“They’re two floors down,” Lucy whined.

“That’s what you get for acting like the game doesn’t require skill. But if you want to be a quitter…”

Throwing a hand over her chest in mock offense, Lucy gasped. “Take it back.”

“Make me,” Vasquez taunted, arching an eyebrow and, for a change, not backing away from the heady undercurrent of flirtatiousness and desire that seemed to run between them whenever they were alone.

“I bet you I can be back in under ten minutes.”

“You’re on. I win, I don’t have to pay you back for the M&Ms.”

“I win, I get to use all the hair styling products I have in my bag to give you a new ’do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Vasquez nodded. “Deal.” They looked down at their watch, counting out the last few seconds before the second hand hit the 12, then yelling, “Go!”

As Lucy’s chair skittered around the first corner, Vasquez pushed their own away from the desk, rolling over to their bag to pull out a laptop and a few cables. Within a matter of minutes, they had their computer hooked up to display on the massive center screen and a system in place for any alerts to override the speakers so they wouldn’t miss any emergencies.

With 30 seconds to spare, Lucy came sliding back in, hitting the edge of the desk and going spinning, finally stopping only after she crashed into Vasquez’s chair. “Bet I made it, huh?” Despite being slightly out of breath, she still managed to look smug.

“Barely.”

With a wink, she held her backpack aloft. “That’s ’cause I stopped and grabbed my bag from my office. Can’t wait to see what you look like a mohawk.”

“Maybe I won’t let you use my fancy computer setup to watch the ball drop after all.” Vasquez stuck out their tongue as Lucy pouted.

“C’mon, it’s just the two of us for the next four hours while Rosenberg and Anderson get to sleep before the overnight shift. Would you really deprive yourself of the fun?”

“Fine, fine.”

And with that, Vasquez ended up with an over-gelled mohawk. Which somehow turned into a game of seeing how many M&Ms they could toss into each other’s mouth and from how far away. Which turned into another bet. Which was how Lucy ended up with two pigtail braids that were perfectly even (“I had two younger sisters, don’t act so surprised.”).

Eventually, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to midnight, Vasquez pulled up a live stream of the celebrations, and they settled in, side-by-side, to watch the countdown.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Vasquez whispered, nudging Lucy with their shoulder.

“Yeah… I did too.”

The clock hit 30 seconds.

Lucy cleared her throat. “I need to be honest. I lied when I said that no one else could work tonight.”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, no one else wanted to work tonight or anything, but I sort of wanted the excuse to hang out with you. So I, uh, I’m sorry. For taking over your New Year’s Eve.”

Vasquez glanced over at Lucy, inching their chair a little closer. “If I’d known that there was a chance for spending a whole night, just the two of us? I’d have fought anyone else who tried to take the shift.”

The corners of Lucy’s mouth pulled up into a soft smile.

Ten seconds left.

Vasquez reached out a hand so that their pinky finger was just barely grazing Lucy’s hand. “Hey, um, when the ball drops, I’d like to kiss you. If that’s alright.”

Three.

Two. Lucy’s hand curled around Vasquez’s, fingers tangling together.

One.

As the ball dropped and the night sky exploded with fireworks and confetti, Lucy leaned over and pulled Vasquez forward, pressing their lips together—soft at first, but building into something deeper, something that made Lucy want to abandon her chair and the game and crawl into Vasquez’s lap. But then the reality of where they were crashed back down as a local EMT alert for a small fire—probably some asshole with illegal fireworks and too much to drink—beeped at them, the sound amplified through the speakers.

“Happy New Year,” Lucy whispered, her breath a warm whisper against the corner of Vasquez’s mouth.

“Next time you get the day off work, maybe I can even take you on a date somewhere other than the DEO?”

“Wow, so romantic.”

“Hush. I’ll have you know I can plan a great date.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

[thisisawesomeness1825]

oops, i (fake) love you, ch.10

Percy

Shit.

That’s the only word Percy can come up with when he remembers the supposed double date he has with Piper and Jason. Shit, because he screwed up the whole thing. And chances are, he blew up the only chance of convincing everybody with his and Annabeth’s relationship.

And that’s another thing: Annabeth.

Everything had been running smoothly up until he snapped at her because apparently, he’s still very bitter about what happened four years ago. And she wasn’t even talking about that! He basically put her on the spotlight and gave no chance of hearing her side. Now, she had stormed out and is undoubtedly shouting curses at him.

God. He’s really a douche.

Moments after she slapped him and ran away, his mind cleared of anger and he immediately felt shame like a cold water had been dumped on his head. He can’t look at his friends for he feared that he’ll break down and feel sorrier for himself.

“Oh no, you guys didn’t just break up because of us, did you?” Piper asks, a definite horror on her voice.

If he’s still mad, he’ll most likely snap at her; but at this point, he’s just tired and ashamed that he lost control of himself. He’s angry and bitter at Annabeth yes, but she didn’t deserve to be humiliated in front of his friends. Besides, there’s a proper place and time to acknowledge and talk about everything in between.

“I don’t know,” he answered, unsure.

“You don’t think you should follow her?” Jason asked.

“It’s best to leave Annabeth when she’s mad.”

At this, Piper seemed to shrink more in her place. Her eyes screamed guilt. “Percy, I’m so sorry. If I knew how this would turn out, I never would’ve forced you guys to come here.”

He waved her off. “It’s fine. I’m sorry but I also have to go.”

Even though it’s already been two days since that incident (Saturday and Sunday, where he spent most of his time mulling over the events leading to the disaster). His gloomy mood apparently haven’t escaped his mom’s worried eyes.

“Are you okay, Percy? Something you want to talk about?” Sally, his mom, asked.

“I’m fine,” he said through muffled voice. He’s lying face down on the couch, his face covered by a pillow. Sally raised her eyebrows at him.

“Fine, it’s just...uh, girl troubles.”

“Girl troubles? I never knew you had a girlfriend.”

Shoot. He forgot that he hadn’t told his mom about Annabeth yet. To be fair, he never really wanted to add his mom to this dating lie.

“It’s, um, it’s just recent,” he answered evasively.

Sally looked at him, skeptically, but eventually resumed to sorting out the groceries. “What’s her name then?”

He sunk further into the couch, pretending like he hadn’t heard the question.

“Percy?”

“Uh. It’s...Annabeth.”

Sally froze midway, and turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Annabeth? Do you mean Annabeth Chase?”

“Yes.”

“The same person as our old neighbor and your best friend Annabeth?”

“Yes mom. It’s the same Annabeth we both know.”

Sally looked contemplative for a moment, but then she shrugged carelessly and smiled. “Huh. Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

“Really? You aren’t mad?” Percy asked.

“Why would I be? I’m just glad you guys got together. It’s really bound to happen at some point,” Sally said. “Anyway, I think you’d both overcome whatever this challenge is just fine; you’d just have to give each other a time to think.”

“I don’t think she’d even want to talk to me.”

His mom sent a curious look at him. “What did you even do?”

“It’s just—I’ve said something that made her mad. And then she stormed off.” He left the part where she actually slapped him; he really didn’t want his mom prodding further if she knew that.

“I’m sure a few days off can cool down that anger. And then apologize.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks mom.”

On Monday, he’s more composed than last time, but Annabeth still hasn’t glanced his way yet. He stared at her for the whole Mythology class, but it’s either she didn’t feel his gaze or she’s just purposely avoiding him.

His brain thinks that it’s the latter.

During lunch, his friends are more somber; and they didn’t ask questions on why his eyes keep darting towards the cafeteria doors. Though Piper did ask quietly, “Have you talked to her yet?”

He shakes his head. “Probably tomorrow.”

Piper nods and squeezes his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get past this.”

Some part of him thinks that, ‘hey, it seems Piper is now on the ride on believing them’, and the other part of him wonders whether he should continue with this thing. After all, Annabeth doesn’t look like she wants to be around him anymore. And really, who was he to expect that after all of these, Rachel will suddenly take an interest on him. He should just save himself the trouble and tell the truth to his friends.

But no. Because for one, he isn’t a quitter, and a minor disagreement won’t deter him from seeing this plan to its end. Second, because he sort of told his mom about it. And third, because if this was the chance for him to clear things out with Annabeth, then he will gladly do it. It feels nice not to constantly hate someone, and knowing that he could possibly be friends with her again is already a reward on its own.

Now, he just needs to convince Annabeth that this will be worth it.

Annabeth

For once, Annabeth isn’t feeling mad at Percy. She was initially mad, yes, but as she thought about it, her feelings gravitated towards disappointment more than anything. Disappointment because they were so close to convincing Piper and Jason, but ended up ruining the whole thing. Disappointment because instead of talking it out like real rational adults (okay, teenagers), they acted out immaturely and ended up hurting each other.

As much as she wants to blame him, she’d also helped stir the tension between them. If she’d just been more levelheaded, they could’ve avoided the entire problem from happening. But that’s already past them, and now she didn’t know how to move forward.

Is the fake dating thing still on? Or is that fight constitutes their fake break up?

She gets her answer the next morning while she’s preparing for school. She’s prepared herself for an awkward breakfast (as it always is whenever her dad actually manages to tear himself from his work) after she finished dressing up. She’s currently sat across the twins, munching silently on her toast and orange juice, all the while pretending that she’s actually part of the family breakfast, and not just the awkward first child from the first wife.

The doorbell rings, and weirdly enough, Fredrick actually stands up and checks the door. Annabeth pays no attention to it; after all, it’s probably just some neighbor complaining about the trash or something.

She’s startled, however, when her dad actually turns to look at her. He looks awkward and partly curious as he gazes at her. “Annabeth?” he calls.

“Yeah?”

“There’s a boy looking for you.”

“A boy?” she asks. Her stepmother, for once, actually chances a glance at her. Then her eyes quickly flit back to the twins.

“If I’m not mistaken, I think it’s Percy Jackson,” Fredrick says. “Should I send him away?”

Percy? What is he doing here?

“Uh, no.” She stands up and puts her plate on the sink. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Her dad is still lingering at the doorway once she spots Percy standing awkwardly outside. Fredrick looks at both them, and he flickers his fingers between Percy and Annabeth. “Are you two...um, dating?”

There’s a moment of silence where neither them know what to say, until Percy lets out a squeaky ‘yes’.

“Oh. Good.” Fredrick raises his glasses along his nose. “I’m glad it’s you. You’re a good man, Percy.”

“Uh, thanks Mr. Chase.”

Fredrick looks uncomfortable for a moment, like he’d rather be in any place other than this. He clears his throat. “Also, um, don’t rush into things. Be safe.”

Her cheeks redden and she bets Percy’s face is flaming too. She gestures outside. “Right, Dad. Um, we’re just going to talk over there.”

“Okay. Sure.” Then, he turns back and heads inside.

“That was...awkward,” Percy mutters quietly.

“Good thing he didn’t follow it up with a long talk about the birds and the bees.”

“That would be mortifying.”

She hides back a smile. She turns to Percy questioningly. “So, what brings you here?”

The boy starts fidgeting under her gaze, and he nervously runs a hand through his hair. “So, listen. I know we hadn’t left things in a good place, and I want to let you know that I’m really sorry for everything I said back there. It was really out of the line and was just plain rude. I shouldn’t have pressured you talk about it in front of my friends; we really could’ve talked about it some other time. Also, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve it.”

There’s a brief moment where she doesn’t respond, and she knows Percy waits with bated breath until she nods and shrugs casually. He sighs in relief.

Annabeth takes in a deep breath and fiddles with her fingers. “Okay. Apology accepted. I-I also want to apologize for slapping you at the diner. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, and it just happened so sudden that I hadn’t had enough time to, well, think about my action. I guess I just got, y’know, fired up with everything.”

“And I’m really sorry for that. I honestly don’t know why I said everything that I said.”

She chooses to ignore that. Annabeth knows why, and she knows he knows too. But they’re still treading on new waters after building a bridge of temporary truce, so that topic will have to be addressed some time later. Preferably when they are already knee-deep into this mess.

Percy holds up his pinky to her with a smile. “Truce?”

“Truce,” she repeats, as her pinky hooks into his and tugs. “So we’re still doing it?” she asks.

“I hope. Although I understand if you don’t want to, knowing everything that I’d dragged you into. But I really hope you’ll give me second chance. I swear I’ll be reading and doing all the notes you’ll be giving me. I’d even advance study!”

“You never advance study,” she comments lightly.

“But now I’ll try. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend understudy.” Then he pulls that wide look with a matching pout that vaguely resembles a cute baby seal. One that she knows haven’t lost a favor in his way.

“You know that’s cheating right?”

“Anything to win you over.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a smile pulling at her lips. “Okay then. Let’s date.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“You want me to make it harder?”

“No. I just—I never expected it to be this easy, especially after, y’know, the diner fiasco. But this is great,” Percy says as he smiles at her. “More than great, actually.”

Annabeth nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t deny that I was mad at you at first. But that just transformed into disappointment since we both acted like a child instead of handling it like an adult.”

She waves her hand dismissively and turns to him. “Anyways, enough of that. Is this the only reason you came to see me this morning? At my house no less?”

For the second time this morning, Percy blushes. “Uh, I was thinking that maybe we can walk to school together?”

There’s no word to describe the look in her face other than incredulous. “Why?”

If possible, his cheeks redden even further. It’s a weird shade, especially with his tan skin. “It’s just that, I’ve frequently seen couples do this, and I wanted to show you that I’ll really bring my A-game here.”

“That’s really nice, but walking can take up 45 minutes.”

“Oh. I...forgot to factor that,” he says slowly. “So, no to walking then?”

She shakes her head.

“Bus?”

“Let’s just take my car.”

“Good idea.”

The ride towards Goode took only about 15 minutes, which left them a couple of minutes of free time before the first period.

Interestingly though, the car ride was far from what she expected. While she readied herself for a tense silence, especially after what happened at the diner, she’s surprised that it’s been filled with small talks that did not feel awkward at all. Maybe, it’s because of their temporary truce; that they had promised to sort out through their mess when the right time comes. Maybe, it’s the acknowledgment that even though they had a rough patch, they’re still willing to move past that and work with each other.

Whatever may that be, she’s glad for it.

A/N: So, this was pretty okay-ish chapter. I really have no intention to drag out the fight, I just need Percy to realize a few things.

Sorry for taking a bit long to finish this chapter. To be honest, I was three-fourths done when my creative juices left me, so I couldn’t wrap up this chapter. Also, I’ve binge watch an anime and read A Court of Mist and Fury, which took up a lot of my time.

Anyways, enough of that and see you next chapter! Don’t forget to favorite, follow, and review!

[hoeassproductions]

Break A Leg: Chapter 5

Masterlist

A/N: Disclaimer, this is a work of fiction. I do not own, possess, or have any links to Chris Evans, nor do I profit off of this work. Any claims otherwise are grossly misleading. This work is not to be posted anywhere else without my explicit permission.

If you would like to be added to the tag list, reply here or send me an ask. I’d be happy to add you! Happy reading!

Word Count: ~2,000

A Realization

“Not exactly how I thought this would go. I take it you’re mad?”

“Mad? I don’t even know what I am right now. Why did you do this? I thought you were taking time off in between movies?”

“I am. I was. I just felt like you having to lie was my fault and I didn’t want you to do that. I know we said we’d be friends and get to know each other, and we still can, but this way people will ask fewer questions. Plus, I love theater. It’s close to home and they’re going to let me help direct which is where I want to move my career. And… I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang with you all the time. You’re a cool chick and I don’t know… I thought it would be a win-win. I guess I should have talked to you about it first.” Chris scratches the back of his neck as he waits to gauge my reaction futher.

“I’m just… shocked I guess? I hear the logic in what you’re saying but my initial worry in this situation is only heightened now. That people thought I got this job because we know each other. Not because I am capable or the right person for the job. Navigating that alone was going to be difficult and now… now you’re going to be here every day. People will talk even more. And you can say that it doesn’t matter, but you know better than almost anyone else that perception is reality. I just… we need to be careful. Especially you! You don’t know these people. Any one of them could do something to breach your privacy. I’m worried for you, too.”

Chris grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Y/N, I appreciate you saying that more than you know. You worrying about me and wanting to protect me means you are the exact kind of friend I need around. I’ve thought about it and it’s a risk but it’s one I’ve calculated and I’m willing to take. The question is, are you? I’ll step back if this will be a problem. I’ll make up a last minute scheduling conflict or something.”

I sigh and take a second to breathe. “No, no. I can’t have you do that. I know this could be big for you. Like I said, we just have to be careful.”

Chris gives me a tight squeeze and holds me at arm’s length. “Y/N this is going to be fun! You’re going to get so tired of me, you’ll forget the whole celebrity thing and the others will, too!” he says as we begin to walk towards the exit of the auditorium.

“You’re probably right,” I chuckle. “Next time you decide to go rogue on me, can you warn a girl first?” I ask as I slap him in the gut with the back of my hand.

“Yes, I will discuss it with you before I do something like that again.”

When we exit the theater and get outside, we agree to text each other when we’re home safe.

“See you on Monday.”

——

Midday Saturday, I decide I needed some girl time, so I call my best friend to see how she’s been doing.

“It’s been a while since we have seen each other. How are you doing?” She asks

“There’s been so much going on Hannah. Actually, I was calling to see if you were free tonight and want to get together”

“Anything for you my dear. But I’m in the mood for steak, so you fire up the grill and make a couple sides. I’ll bring the steak and wine and we can have a good old fashioned girl’s night.”

“Sounds great to me. You’re the best!”

“As if you ever doubted me, Y/N. I can be over around 6:30. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then.”

Well, now I have a few hours to kill….

I turn on my playlist and begin to tidy the living room area. When that’s done I migrate into the kitchen to take a browse inside of my fridge to get some ideas for sides. I decide some green beans with peppers and baked potatoes sound perfect. I set all of the stuff on the counter for later and wash all the dishes in my sink. I wipe off all the counters and grab a pan to get the potatoes in the oven. Once they’re in, I throw a small load of laundry in the wash while I’m at it.

I’m being so productive today! Yay me!

I go sweep off the patio and clean off the furniture there in case we decide to eat outside. A take a glance at the time on my watch and see that I can sneak in a quick shower before Hannah gets here. I walk into my kitchen and check on the potatoes. They’re good to go so I turn the temp down to keep them warm while I hop in the shower.

Just as I get settled in the kitchen chopping the green beans and peppers, I hear a knock on the front door.

“It’s open” I say.

Hannah hustles herself in the door and we meet each other halfway with a tight hug

“How have you been? You sounded stressed on the phone. Is the job going OK?”

“Yeah, I guess I am stressed. I’m feeling a lot of pressure to measure up. Like I haven’t earned this yet. That I have to prove myself every single step of the way.”

Hannah extends a nod of understanding. “A new job is always an adjustment but you said it yourself! This is your dream job! You need to have the confidence to get the job done and keep your wits about you. My best friend ain’t a quitter and I’ll give you a swift kick in the ass if you ever doubt yourself again.”

“Thanks Hannah, you really are the best!”

“I know! Now let’s pop this wine and get these steaks on. I’m starving!”

Hannah preps the steaks, and I the vegetables, while we catch up on her. It feels good having her here and I remind myself to make these girl’s nights happen more often.

When all of the food is ready, we settle into the patio from more conversation and to eat. My phone lights up on the table with a call from Chris a moment later.

“Is it OK if I take this?” I ask Hannah.

“By all means,” she says and takes a sip from her glass.

I walk just inside the door to the kitchen as I accept the call. “Hey, what’s up? Everything alright?”

Chris chuckles. “Yeah, everything’s great! Getting ready for an interview in a few minutes, actually.”

“Oh, then why-“ Before I can finish, he cuts me off.

“I actually called to tell you that you’re right. I should be careful around the theater. I talked to Sandra and she assured me that there would be discretion. That they’ve had celebrities there before but for my ease of mind that she’d invoke a no phone/recording/picture taking devices rule for all of the staff. I can also have a couple of my people there to keep an eye and ear out.”

“Well, that’s a relief. For you, at least. I still have my own issues to work through…”

“I’ll be there every step of the way. I promise you that.”

As Chris says this, Hannah gets a little impatient behind me.

“Y/N! Food!” She yells at me.

“OK! Alright! Give me a minute.” I addressed to her.

“Sorry Chris. Anyways, thank you for saying as much.”

“No problem at all… Y/N, is someone there with you?”

“Yeah, just my friend Hannah. We’re having a girl’s night in.”

“Oh” he says and lets outs a deep breath. “Girl’s night in, huh? Are you going to tell her about me?”

“You act as if she doesn’t already know, and that there’s something to tell.” I chuckle to him.

“Y/N, I’m crushed. And here, I thought we were getting on so well,” he says with a tinge of seriousness but I can hear the smile in his voice. Some bustling occurs in the background on his end.

“Listen, I have to go. Don’t have too much fun without me. I expect a full report Monday. Talk to you later, Y/N. Bye.

Before I can reply to him about a strict girl code, line goes dead.

The bastard hung up on me. Rude!

Walking back out to the patio I sit at the table as Hannah asks if everything is OK.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry. Let’s eat!”

After a few bites, and mutual compliments to the chefs, we settle into a brief silence.

Moments pass before Hannah pipes up first. “So who’s Chris and why is he called ‘Shirt Defiler’ in your phone?”

I decide to tell her everything: running into him before the interview, the spilled coffee (explaining the temporary name), dinner afterwards and everything in between.

“I’m sensing some hesitancy on your end and I don’t know why. He sounds pretty great!”

“Well… there is more”

“More? Do tell” She settles further into to seat cushion to get comfortable.

I think it over a little for a second and realize that I should just say it, if even only for my own sanity.

“If I tell you this, you have to swear that not a whisper of this leaves us. Like this is beyond ‘pinky promise’ promising.”

“Of course! We’re best friends. You know how much shit between the two of us we are taking to the grave? Spill.”

I take a deep breath and begin to tell her something even I am still having a difficult time wrapping my brain around. “Remember that movie you made Jack go to a couple years ago about that girl who wanted to not raise her number?”

“Yeah…?”

“Do you remember the guys she ends up with?”

“Yes, what a hunk! Doesn’t he also play Captain America now?

“Yup”

“What does that have to do with your guy on the phone?”

“The guy on the phone is Chris Evans.”

She’s quiet for a moment and I whisper, “He’s Captain America. That’s who I was talking to.”

“Oh. OH! Oh my God! Now I see where all this stress is from.” she says as she motions in my general direction and continues. “So, what’s the problem with that?”

“Well, he’s a celebrity. We’re just friends and it’s already complicated. I can’t imagine trying to explore anything else.”

“But you want to though, right? Explore, I mean. With him?”

“Kind of…? I don’t know. He’s amazing, but not overwhelming about it….? Kind of handsome, too”

“Kind of? I think you mean gorgeous! Given the chance, I’d climb that man like a tree any day. And listen, you clearly like him. Don’t force it. Just see where it goes. What’s the harm in figuring out your feelings?”

“Oh, I’ll have plenty of opportunity for that. He’s working at the theater this season.”

“The plot thickens!” Hannah says with overbearing excitement as she bounces in her seat.

“We had an argument about it already. I didn’t know that he was going to do it but we talked about it, and ultimately that it would be ok, as long as both of us were cautious there for multiple reasons.”

“This is all fate! Just don’t fuck it up. Keep me up-to-date. You know I’m always here to be a sounding board if need be and I’ll never murmur a peep.”

“Thanks Hannah. I feel a lot better getting it all out there.”

“I know it’s been a rough few years, but it’s time that you get out of your way and find your own happiness. I know it won’t be easy but I can already see a positive difference. Give it a chance. You never know. Easier said than done I know but I love you for trying”

After a few shed tears, multiple squeezing hugs, and a couple of laughter fits later, I catch my breath feeling a sense of renewal.

“I love you but I need to get home. Jack’s out with the guys, so I have to get back to the doggo.”

“Of course,” I say. We give each other a long tight squeeze and then bring all the dishes in the house.

We say good night and I wave to Hannah as she gets in her car.

She’s right you know. You do like him.

I shake my head to myself as I turn out the lights and head to bed.

Previous Chapter

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry this chapter is so late. I took a short break from posting but I’m back with some more story! I hope you guys like this! I had some fun writing Hannah. Let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are always much appreciated!

Tag List: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @beccaheartschrisevans @avenger-nerd-mom @mycapt-ohcapt-writes @mad-for-marvel @vanillabeanlattes @captain-ariel-barnes @emilyevanston @thewife101cevans @annvincible@loricameback @plussizeappreciationfics @a-tale-of-two-comics@melodramaticfanatic @writingcreatingstorytelling @kirstie-lotr @mywritingsblog @disney-fire-fox @harrinoodles @lookwhatyoumademequeue @janeyboo @aglarelen

[insane-control-room]

Is It?

Williy asked Kim one (1) simple question. Is it really that hard to answer?!

(a snippet from a future story)

Willy, as Wilma, really was stunning. Only problem was the way she refused to pay attention to anything. Kim quirked an eyebrow at her odd behavior, her simply looking out the window with a blank face. He touched her shoulder, and she jolted to look at him, flashing a pretty, but shaky, smile.

“H-Hey Kim,” she greeted, then returned her gaze to the window. Kim noted a blush creeping onto her cheeks. It was hard to remember that they were supposed to be pretending they were in a relationship sometimes. Like now. “You doin’ good, sweetie?”

In any other situation, Shawn would have committed homicide if Willy called someone sweetie, but he didn’t dare act as he normally did as long as that smug prick of a brother Daniel was around.

“Yeah, m’fine,” he quickly covered for his silence. Willy looked over him, and her expression pursed. She looked around, as though checking for unwelcome ears. “You alright there? Wilma?”

“Is it actually really good?” she questioned suddenly, looking to him sharply. “Like, actually as good as people say it is?”

“Huh? Uh, what are you talking about?” Kim asked in return, confounded by the twisted inquiry. “Is what as good as people say?”

“N-nothing, nevermind,” she muttered, leaning her face on a fist. Her blush intensified. Kim’s curiosity was sparked. “Just… forget I said anythin’.”

“No, ask away!” he encouraged, trying to hide his eagerness for information. He sat beside her. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Sex,” she blurted, bright merlot blush overwhelming her face. Kim stared. “Is it as good as people claim it it?”

“W… w-well,” he stuttered, feeling a flush cross his own face. “D-don’t you have any experience?”

“If I did, d’ya think I’d be askin’?”

“Don’t you and Shawn bang all the time?”

“What? No!”

“Why are you asking me and not Wally?”

“Imagine asking your mother if sex is good.”

“No way!”

“Well, that’s why not.”

“Wait.” the gears in Kim’s brain kicked off. “You said you have no experience.”

“Yeah,” Willy muttered, toying with her mug. “Shawn and I have never fucked, thanks for askin’.”

“Like, I mean, none at all?”

“For god’s sake! How hard is it to understand the fact I’ve never had sex before?!”

“You’re a virgin?!”

“And you’ve had a friend with benefits,” Willy retorted, but was blazing with the colors of hell. “So what, same difference.”

“Uh, no, not even close,” Kim replied. “So you’ve seriously never had sex?”

“I was once forced to give a bunch a’ freaks, homophobes, and racists blow jobs at gunpoint, but I don’t think that counts,” Willy flatly answered. Kim’s eyes widened. “And no, I didn’t enjoy it, if you were wondering. Think of the moment you hope you can finally go, another person shows up. An’ yer forced to do this in front of your brothe’. Second ta worst night a’ my life, if ya ask me. Learned one thing though. Spitters are quitters, and sluts aren’t allowed to be quitters.”

“Well, um, uh, have you ever gotten off?” Kim stuttered, stumbling over his words. God this conversation was awkward. “With a partner?”

“No, not even from just me,” Willy mumbled, darkening. “I…” she swallowed roughly. “The doc says I’m fine, but I need more stimulation. What I can do fer me isn't enough, an’ I never found somethin’ that is. Enough stimulus. So. I can only get part way. Before I give up. From frustration.”

“So you’ve never orgasmed either? Is it erectile dysfunction or something like that?”

“I just fuckin’ said the doc’s analysis claims I’m fine! It’s just physical simulation ain’t enough!”

“Have you seriously never cummed?”

“Good lord Kim, are ya an elf er somethin’?” Willy demanded, flustered and embarrassed, “Can ya jus’ gimme a bloody clear answer?! Is it good er not?!”

All of Kim’s probing questions suddenly smacked him in the back of the head, and he realized he was most uncourteous and extremely improper. His face suddenly blanked and became fearful.

“This isn’t the time and place for this conversation,” he gulped. Willy stared at him, with an ‘are you fucking serious’ look. A high heel slammed above his wrist, the stiletto digging into the wood of the table, trapping even his slim arm in a cuff. “Wha- Willy!”

“I asked one single damn question,” Willy hissed. There was a cocking noise, and Kim found a gun pointed directly at the weak point between his nose and eyes. He gaped at it in shock. “Get talkin’. Sex. Is it. Or is it not. As fucking good. As people say.”

“It is,” Kim admitted, blazing scarlet, his hand straining against the makeshift trap and staring in terror at the murder weapon in his face. “Can you please for the love of god put that thing away please!”

“Finally, some clear fuckin’ sense,” Willy muttered, slamming the gun back into its hidden holster on her thigh. Kim mantled almost purple. She pressed the stiletto further into the wood, her gaze a more powerful blaze than Hell’s inferno. He gasped in pain. “Not a word to a soul, got it Grosso?”

He unable to speak from sheer anxiety, nodded hastily.

She examined him, nodded once, yanked out the heel, put it on, and left him to faint, passing a none too surprised Eska, whose senses of death were more powerful than anyone’s. Eska put a hand on Kim’s burning red face as he swiftly stole him away to the infirmary.

“Ahh. Fever,” he decided. Kim shook his head, but Eska bundled him up in blankets nonetheless. “Must sweat to purge system.”

“Hey Willy,” Shawn greeted as she walked through the door. “Man, you look like you threatened to kill someone. Was today that bad?”

“Not really,” Willy muttered. “Just missed you. And Kim’s a nosy fool whose mouth runs faster than his brain if ya catch him off guard.”

“Aw. Someone threatened the soft one with murder?” Shawn teased, pressing a kiss to Willy’s cheek. She giggled, smiling at Shawn’s antics. “Daniel’s clubbin’ tonight, so don’t need ta worry about unexpected visitors.”

“Ones who would think you’re cheatin’ on Niamh?” Willy joked, watching Shawn’s face shift into a mix of disgust and distaste. “You’re real cute when you pout.”

“And yer cute in bed,” Shawn shot back. Willy smiled, looking over her shoulder as she sauntered to his room. “Hey, wait up!”

He tackled her onto the bed, pressing little kisses to her face and making her laugh. After kissing her like the world was ending, Shawn pulled away, raising an eyebrow with a concerned and loving smile.

“More?”

“Nah. Do you?”

“Nope. Cuddles?”

“Oh, hell, yes, please.”

“Love you Wills.”

“Love ya too, Shawn.”