#normally we banter a lot in the department i’m in and we all know it’s all for shits and giggles

[fakeoutbf]

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[mochidoie]

CO-

kim doyoung x reader wc - 8.7k genre - very slow burn, frenemy to lovers (light banter), coworkers!au, roomates!au warnings - a small kiss scene

You and Doyoung coexist in two specific ways: cohabitation and as coworkers. However, your friendship, if you can call it that, is far from besties and more on being cordial with one another. Nonetheless, in this dreary corporate world, he is the only one who just gets you and despite his coldness, he feels the same about you.

Doyoung annoyingly types on his keyboard in the cubicle next to you, completely disrupting your concentration and general workflow. Groaning, you hope that it was enough to signify how irritated you were. However, instead of the obnoxious typing coming to a halt, it intensifies tenfold and catches the attention of everyone else who sits on this floor.

Embarrassment washes over your body as you forcibly stand up and peer over the short wall that divides both of your desks. “Knock it off.” You gently smack the back of Doyoung’s head and he winces forward, looking up at you immediately with a glare.

“I’m seriously going to report you to HR one day.” He whispers, his threat just barely sounds legitimate. Doyoung is the greatest at bluffing and empty threats. 

“Well today won’t be the day. You’re typing so loud that it could be a noise complaint.” Rolling your eyes, you drop back down into your seat. Smoothly swiveling your chair back to the intimidating project blown full screen on your monitor, you dread every minute of being here. Your day is full of reports, documentations, and boring project meetings. 

You’ll have small talk about the weather in the break room over some watered down coffee made by a machine and happy hours on random days of the week at the nearby upscale restaurant.

You’ll run into someone from another department on the elevators and feel awkward for several floors until one of you finally gets out. Hiding in the bathroom is the only escape from the depressing gray carpet and fluorescent indoor lighting. 

“You could make this a more enjoyable workplace if you didn’t sigh every three minutes.” Doyoung walks around to your cubicle, crossing his arms like the prick he always is.

“I’m sighing because you keep typing for all of the world to hear you.” You turn in your chair, facing him once again with your lips in a line. “Get out of my space.”

“I’m not in your space.” You watch as he slyly backs up from the wall, the tips of his shoes barely skimming the invisible line that crosses into your cubicle. “What is the bad mood for today?” Doyoung raises an eyebrow.

You despise when someone points out your attitude, it just feels completely unnecessary to bring up in conversation. However, you are normally less mean to him and Doyoung was a sensitive individual. “Rough start this morning, my bread got jammed in the toaster and flat tire on my way to work.”

“This is why I tell you to use the oven and to carpool with me. The carbon footprint we could minimize by just using one car is astronomical.” He shoves his hands into his pressed pants pockets, “I guess this is why I didn’t see your car in the lot this morning.”

“It’s in the shop. I’m out of a car for about two weeks because they found something wrong with the engine or something.” 

“Just your luck.”

You groan, “are you just going to nag and pity me, or are you going to offer me a ride home?” 

Doyoung puts his hands up in the air, as he often speaks with his hands. “You’re always welcome to ride with me. You just normally refuse.” 

“Yeah, because it looks weird if we got into the same car together.” 

He shrugs, “people already know we live together. What’s the big deal about it?”

“It’ll look like we’re … you know… Together.” You keep your voice down to a whisper, afraid for any nosy ears listening into business they aren’t a part of. Doyoung nearly throws himself forward laughing at your shifty eyes and your sheepish statement.

“Seriously? I think people can tell we’re far from ever being together.” Ouch. Not that you had any romantic interest in this vile man, but it was a bigger blow to your ego if anything.

It’s also the way Doyoung says it. It’s pure mockery, a joke that you even though there was a slim chance at the consideration of you two being together. 

You shrug him off, ignoring how snobby he is being. “People make rumors. Someone who isn’t close to us can see me getting into your car and get the wrong idea.” Turning around, Doyoung takes the signal that he probably pissed you off more than he intended to.

He sighs and walks up behind your chair. Placing two hands on your shoulders, you slightly flinch at the sudden physical contact. Doyoung leans down to whisper gently into your ear, “let them think what they want.” It sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t have a snarky comment to say back to him.

The sound of his shuffling disappears as he returns back to his side and resumes his typing. You aren’t excited to tackle the task in front of you, if anything, you wish Doyoung annoyed you for a bit longer.

The suffocating dullness of the office wrings any ounce of creativity out of you. You’re like a wet towel that was left too long out in the sun and now you’re all dry and crunchy. 

A swoosh notification catches your eye, a new email from your manager in your inbox for you to worry about. Letting out another sigh of the day, you’re wondering what minuscule thing she needs now. The subject line already has you rolling your eyes and did you really want to open it? Not really. 

FROM PATRICIA A.

HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION: HH AT 127 BAR AND RESTAURANT

Hello Team,

I hope you’re all having a productive day so far. Our VPs have organized a company happy hour for all to attend. Please refer to the infographic attached to this email for information in regards to the Halloween happy hour event that is being held next week at the 127 Bar and Restaurant. 

RSVP through here by the EOD on Friday. Your attendance is highly encouraged as this will be a chance for everyone to network and chat with our VPs. Appropriate Halloween costumes are mandatory for attendance to be considered. Hope to see you all there. 

Best, Patricia A. Regional Manager 

“Costumes, are you fucking kidding me?” You hear Doyoung over your wall, followed by a ferocious clicking noise. 

“Don’t worry, Kim. You won’t need one, you’re already scary looking as is.” Jumping up, you place your elbows on the counter of his wall and peer over him. Doyoung rolls his eyes and stands to level the eye contact.

“You might want to get one, don’t want our VPs to get too scared seeing your face.” His eyebrow raises as he watches your face contour in disgust. He scoffs, closing his laptop and putting his monitor on sleep mode. He makes his way out to the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Your nosiness gets the best of you, not that you actually cared much about Doyoung’s whereabouts.

“On my way to ask our pretty receptionist what costume she’s going in.” He smirks, making a direct line toward the elevators. Slumping back into your chair, you hover your cursor over the RSVP link. Another damn happy hour. 

Doyoung whistles his way out of the elevator as it dings on the lobby level of the office. Around the corner, he is met with the office receptionist with her hair neatly framing her face and red lips curving into a smile as she greets him. 

“Good afternoon Daisy, how are you today?” He rummages through the candy bowl full of mints and dental gum, despite never really caring for sweet cavity inducing treats.

Daisy leans forward on her desk with her sweet smile never leaving her pretty face. “I’m good, how are you?” She knows Doyoung as the man that would often stop by at random hours of the day for small talk and a mint. Not entirely knowing that he was mostly there to see her, she indulges in the light conversation with the nice man. 

“Happy that it’s Thursday, as usual.” Doyoung tears the mint wrapper with his teeth. His forearm is placed comfortably on the counter of the desk as he leans forward chatting with Daisy. 

“Friday is so close.” Daisy says excitedly, clapping her hands together in a cheery youthful manner. “Any weekend plans?”

“Probably going to see the new movie in theaters with a friend.” Truthfully, Doyoung never really has weekend plans set. He spends his weekends indoors and locked behind his door. A true mystery as to what he does behind it. “Not sure though, I’ll see how I’m feeling in the morning.”

“Yeah, I get that. I try to get out of my house during the weekend so that I’m still productive, even though all I want is to relax in bed.” She chuckles and instantly, Doyoung smiles at her relatability and honesty. Her energy is contagious, he always feels a burst whenever he speaks to her. 

“Hey, I mean to ask, do you have a costume in mind for the happy hour next week?” Doyoung suckles the spicy peppermint, rocking it back and forth between each cheek. Daisy ponders for a second and he finds an opportunity to make a very bad joke. “Anything to do with flowers perhaps? Because you’re Daisy.” He laughs at his own joke and she lightly gives in to such a corny question.

“That would be funny,” she laughs, “but I’m not sure if I can attend. I let Patricia know that I’ll be attending my boyfriend’s sister’s engagement party that night.” What a glass shattering moment as Doyoung was not aware that Daisy had a boyfriend. Then again, a woman like her wouldn’t be stuck being single and moping about her sad love life like his own cubicle roommate coworker, y/n.

“Darn, we’ll miss you there then.” Doyoung finds a way to exit the conversation, knowing his heart is already breaking thinking about Daisy spending her weekends out and about with another man. The fantasy of her is ruined.

“Aw, thank you Doyoung.” Daisy reaches underneath her desk and pulls out a familiar looking earbud case, “also, are you able to hand this back to y/n? They dropped this on their way in, but they were already rushing into an elevator before I could catch them. You two are dating, right?”

Doyoung’s lips part open in shock, hearing those words come from Daisy’s mouth entice a strange feeling. His initial reaction is to deny it, clearly, but she looks at him with such awe that he doesn't know what to say. “Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, I overheard a few people chatting about you two. I think people said you two moved in with each other after 5 months of dating.” Daisy innocently explains. “My boyfriend and I could never move in together, at least, not yet. I feel like we have to hit that two year mark before deciding to do so.” 

He chuckles awkwardly, unsure what he is more surprised about: Daisy’s boyfriend or the fact that there are actual rumors that he and y/n are dating. “We’re not dating, just roommates. We’re not even really close.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I really thought you two were dating. Please don’t tell them I said anything.” Daisy covers her mouth and Doyoung accepts the earbuds. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He forces a smile, bidding a small see you later to Daisy before heading back upstairs to his boring job. The dating rumor invades every part of his thoughts as he tosses the case back and forth between his hands. He is going to murder whoever spread such a heinous lie.

“Maybe we should stagger when we leave. I’ll go first and start my car, then you come down ten minutes later, walk around the lot and then get into my car.” Doyoung nibbles on his granola bar, leaning against the sink counter. Drying your tupperware, you stare at him in confusion.

“Why such an elaborate plan to just go home?” You question.

Doyoung shakes his head at you, as if you don’t think about the potential risks lying ahead. “Like you said, people start rumors so we should be careful.” 

Halting all your actions completely, you blink blankly at a nervous Doyoung. “You heard something, didn’t you?” 

“When did I–”

“Doyoung, I will rip that granola bar out of your hand. What was it?” 

He neatly places the wrapper back on, setting it down and crossing his arms. “There are rumors of us dating and that we moved in with each other after five months of dating, which in itself is already ridiculous. Obviously, I would wait longer than that to move in with my partner because you never really know if you’d last with that person and then, you’re stuck in an awkward living situation if you ever break up.” Doyoung huffs and puffs. 

Your facial expression doesn’t change, remaining completely unamused and blank as you listen to this man aimlessly derail from the main point. “Thanks for that.” Your tongue clicks and sarcasm laces your words. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“You have to be right all the time, don’t you?” He scoffs, annoyed and grows impatient with your lack of reaction. 

“Uh, with you? Most definitely.” You laugh, which Doyoung does not expect. “People are so bored here that they’ll make up the weirdest out of pocket thing about someone else. Us interacting is enough ammo for them to shoot some made up scenario.” 

“How are you so unphased by this?” 

You pack up your lunch boxes into your bag, “because I know none of it is true. I can barely stand you.” Pausing, you turn to face Doyoung fully. Your hand lightly pats his chest and he watches your every movement, the distance between the two of you closing in. “Like you said, let them think what they want.”

Now, it is Doyoung’s turn to remain speechless at the statement. He should really listen to his own advice.

When you were desperate for a place to live, it did come to your surprise that Doyoung came to your rescue. You two are very distant friends from college, a more accurate title would be acquaintances. Being in the same few clubs made him a familiar figure, but never anyone you personally got close to or spoke much with.

However, there was no harm in networking post-grad. If anything, it became an advantage to come from a big club with so many people aligned in the same field to gain insight into different companies, internships, and  potential job offers. You landed your current adult job with the help of a few connections and chats at career fairs. 

Nonetheless, the offer to move into Doyoung’s apartment was conditional. He had been laid off of his previous work and had to find a new job as soon as he could. Doyoung was able to land the job at your current company through your referral and you were approved to be a co-signer on the lease of the apartment. It felt fated to be and everything fell into its place perfectly, if only you two were compatible. 

The thing with Doyoung is that he always gave off a vibe that he was stuck up and prude. You also had an impression he didn’t like you during college due to you sleeping with his friend, Jaehyun, and breaking his heart when you didn’t want a relationship with him. When you first moved in, you gave Doyoung a lot of leeway but he always treated you coldly. At some point, you had enough of it and decided that he should get a taste of his own attitude. 

Nevertheless, your friendship worked better this way. You’re not entirely sure of the psychology behind it, but Doyoung seemed to communicate with you easier when you were at each other’s throats. All those enemies to lovers tropes you would read growing up were finally making sense to you. 

You two did grow closer when living together, but definitely not to the point where you two were best friends. Doyoung still kept you at arm's reach and so did you. There are a lot of things about him that you didn’t know about, it was quite actually last month that you learned that Doyoung had an older brother. It was only because he had stopped by to drop off some food for him from his mom. 

Doyoung is not the type to warm up to someone quickly, resembling a locked cabinet and a key that is lost somewhere. He is just waiting for the right person to find it. Due to this, you two live very separately at home. Doyoung is quick to rush into his own room and you’re often the one to wander around the living space before finding your way back to yours. 

So on this random weekend, you’re wondering why there is a soft knock at your door. Kicking the blankets off of your body, you rush over to open your closed bedroom door to reveal a messy bed hair Doyoung in his bunny pajama pants. 

“Hey, good….” Doyoung checks the time on his phone to be sure, lifting one eyebrow at your sleepy expression. “Evening.” 

“What do you want?” You groan, ready to let the door hit him in the face. “I get enough of you at work.” You rub your eyes to rid any junk stuck on your lashes. 

“Since your car is in the shop, I was wondering if you needed a ride to run any errands or to grab food. You haven’t left your room the whole day, so you must be hungry.”  His eyes dart left and right, avoiding eye contact as best as he can. Doyoung looks so sheepish, like a deer caught in headlights.

You can’t help, but laugh. “Aw, are you caring for me right now?” 

His face contours into complete disgust. “Not really. I just don’t want to find your dead body in the apartment and potentially get sued for negligence.”

“Well, I’m not hungry.” In that moment, your body couldn’t have had better timing. Your stomach rumbles loudly and Doyoung just blinks at you until it passes. 

You both break out into laughter, “fine, what are you getting for dinner?”

“There’s a new place in town that I’ve been eyeing. A bit upscale, if you’re down.” Doyoung starts walking toward his room, eyebrow raised and waiting for your confirmation. 

“You’re paying.” You close the door before he could protest. You and Doyoung have shared a few meals together, but nothing consistent. It’s not awkwardness that stops the both of you, but that there really isn’t much to chat about over a plate of food. Besides work, you two don’t share any of the same interests or the same circle of friends. 

On top of that, Doyoung would never open up over a sirloin steak. He barely opens up with a bottle of wine. You’ve given up trying to interrogate him with endless questions about his personal life, he never really asks about yours anyways. 

Though, meals with Doyoung aren’t entirely dreadful. His refined palate and hefty paycheck allows for you a delicious culinary experience. You’d never admit it, but eating with him was much better than eating alone.

Dressing for the occasion, you step out in an entirely new and refreshed vibe. Doyoung nearly chokes at the sight of you, not used to seeing you all dolled up and well, nicely dressed. Unintentionally, the accents of your colors match and Doyoung takes note of it, not throwing much of a fit as he usually would. 

“Matching is not a bad thing.” Doyoung clears his throat, hands slipping into his pressed pants and obvious aversion to eye contact.

“Matching with you it might be.” You snicker, but loved your attire too much to change into something else for the night. Both of you head out for dinner and you catch a whiff of something vibrant as Doyoung follows into his car. 

“New cologne?” The strap of the seat belt rustles in the quiet vehicle. Doyoung doesn’t say anything, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking space with ease.

There is a long moment of silence, at this point you’ve concluded that he probably completely ignored your question. However, after a few blocks, Doyoung follows up with his own inquiry, “you like it?” 

Raising a brow, you’re finding his behavior quite peculiar tonight. It’s a bit unsettling and rather confusing. “I prefer your usual clean scent. This citrus doesn’t match you.”

Without a word of protest, Doyoung grins to himself at your words. Though, you’re too busy scrolling on your phone and participating in the usual silent atmosphere of the car ride.

“Have you thought of your Halloween costume for the happy hour?” Doyoung delicately cuts into his flank, twirling the piece of meat in the brown gravy that was neatly swirled on the plate.

You shrug, popping the broccolini into your mouth. There hasn’t been much thought about that email since it dropped in your inbox. If anything, you hadn’t even considered the fact that it was already October.  It felt like just yesterday you were on a rooftop bar in the warm summer sunset. 

“Any ideas?” You pat your hands on the cloth napkin on your lap, eyebrow raised toward Doyoung. Not that this man would give you any good ideas, you’re already settling on your last ditch effort costume you always went as during your college years.  

The restaurant is incredibly fancy, way more than you had been anticipating when he had mentioned it being a little upscale. It is moderately loud inside, but nothing above light chatter and the jazz music still audible over the voices. You two had been seated right away, the hostess having starry eyes the moment she saw Doyoung walk in. 

The waiters referred to you with proper titles and offered the wine of the night, placing it in its own separate small table. Anyone could have mistaken you and Doyoung for being a couple on a date, perhaps celebrating an anniversary or a nice date night. 

While at any other occasion you would make it incredibly obvious that isn’t the case, the food is too immaculate for you to care. The tenderness of your meat is melt worthy and the taste of garlic butter hits your palette lovingly. You were too busy indulging in the meal before Doyoung had spoken.

“Maybe something with a mask.” Doyoung responds after a rather long thoughtful silence. 

Your face deadpans, rolling your eyes at how silly it was to even ask him for a serious suggestion. “Ha! So funny.” Your sarcasm bites at his skin.

He flinches slightly at your tone, but places his fork and knife on the white table cloth. He wipes his lips with his napkin, “I’m not saying it to be mean. I meant it as a masquerade.” 

“Why would I wear a mask the whole night in front of our VPs?”

Doyoung shrugs in return, “isn’t the point of Halloween pretending to be someone you’re not? Or trying to hide behind a facade?” 

“That’s too philosophical. Halloween is about tricks, treats and pumpkins.” He laughs at your explanation, bringing the rim of his wine glass to his lips.

“That’s one way to view it.” He unbuttons his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Your eyes wander before your mind could remind you it's Doyoung you’re gawking at. “I might go with a mask, like a masked prince of some kind.” 

You laugh, “yeah, I’m sure Daisy will swoon over that.”

Doyoung doesn’t smile, instead he clears his throat uncomfortably. “She has a boyfriend and she’s not going.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that your work crush has been diminished.” You pout, quite insincerely and mockingly. Doyoung scoffs at your statement, rolling his eyes at how he’s willing to entertain this. 

“It was never going to work out anyways. She thought you and I were together.” The statement nearly causes you to choke on your wine. He raises an eyebrow at the slight break in your careless reactions. 

“Wow, it traveled all the way to our receptionist. That’s how you know the whole office practically knows about it.” However, he read it all wrong as you began to speak. Your nonchalant answers bring Doyoung no reassurance as he watches with a quizzical look as you eat your mashed potatoes. 

“Maybe you like the thought of us being together.” Doyoung snickers. He doesn’t mean it, but he did want to shake up the atmosphere to see how playful he can get with you. 

You kick his shin under the table and he lightly jumps, “calm down, prince. Don’t want the commoners to know how much of a narcissist you are.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you grumble. The mashed potato now tasted a bit sour from Doyoung’s jokes. 

“C’mon, seriously? Do you actually think that I’m a narcissist?” Doyoung places a hand on his chest, as if you could be referring to anyone else. He is so dramatic, you think to yourself as you see him tap away a fake tear.

So you decide to be truthful and slightly hurtful, simply because he asked for it. “Yes, I genuinely do at times.” Your powerful tone in your words shocked Doyoung a bit, his head shaking a bit from the actual truth.

“Oh,” He clears his throat awkwardly, halting his playful demeanor. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to come off that way.” This is the first time you’ve seen him completely vulnerable in his apology. It is a sharp difference compared to his usual snarky “my bad” or “oops”. 

The hurt on his face is evident, pursing his lips on the rim of his wine glass and the thoughts flooding his heavy head. A part of you feels guilty, wondering if a line had been drawn. 

“Unfortunately, you’re still a likable person as people say.” You clear your throat and shift nervously in your seat. Doyoung looks up through hood eyes at your compliment, but holds back the grin that itches to form on his lips. 

Something about his gaze almost makes you falter, “why did you choose such a fancy place for dinner?” 

“Because I genuinely wanted to see what this place was all about. I’ve been hearing Greg from Finance brag about how he’s eaten here for the past two weekends.” Doyoung lightly taps the table with his index finger, like a habit he couldn’t grow out of.

“You let Greg of all people talk you into a $200 bill?” You can’t hold the laugh back because of how ridiculously easy Doyoung can be swayed by someone else’s opinions. “And what do you think about dinner tonight?

Doyoung may have mistaken the implication in your question — if there even was one. He halts his rhythmic tapping, sitting up to straight out his wrinkled shirt and gazing upon you right in front of him. 

“Dinner was…” The bill lands on the edge of the table and Doyoung flips open the book with one flick. He breaks focus from you for a quick second to look at the final grand number on the thin piece of paper. You barely get a glimpse, as he places his card down and shuts it swiftly. 

His eyes back fully on you, “most definitely worth it.” The smile on Doyoung’s face isn’t menacing or mockery, you’re completely convinced that it’s a smile meant for you. And, you’re unsure how to interpret the butterflies that flutter at the pit of your stomach. 

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, you walk into work with everyone in some bizarre work appropriate costume and staring at you as if you’re the odd one out. Your costume is in your bag, which Doyoung so graciously let you leave in the trunk of his car before coming in. However, you’re wondering if it's too late to dash back outside to grab it so you fit in with everyone else. 

“Good morning, y/n!” Daisy, a very chirpy and red painted smile, greets you routinely. Cute flower clips line her hair perfectly and the all green attire can only mean one thing: she is a flower. “What’s your costume?”

Laughing nervously, you’re finding a way out of this small talk. “It’s a surprise! You’ll see when we all leave for happy hour tonight.”

“I might be going before then, but please stop by if you have the time to get it on earlier.” She happily smiles, bidding you a small “have a good day!” before returning her focus back to her screen.

The elevator stops on your floor and it’s as if Jack Skellington came overnight and vomited Halloween all over the cubicles. There always has to be that one coworker who is obsessed with the holiday and they lovingly decorated the office before everyone came in. Including yours and Doyoung’s cubicle.

You’re awkwardly shuffling past your coworkers, saying small good mornings and getting weird looks. However, you’re trying very hard to not draw attention to being the only one not dressed up. A tiny baby pumpkin sits in front of your monitor and a neatly wrapped ghost cookie with your name written on a post it note awaits you. 

“Good morning!” Your coworker’s head pops from over the wall and incites a startled scream from you. Of course, she’s laughing giddily at successfully scaring the living out of you. 

“Hey Mariel, good morning. Did you make these?” There is no second guessing who else would be this enthusiastic about Halloween than Mariel is. She talked your ear off the day it hit October 1st about ghouls, goblins, and ghosts.

She even had a spooky countdown calendar of the days until the 31st. On top of that, she was the only one overly excited about the Halloween happy hour the moment the email hit everyone’s inbox.

“Of course. I do a baking side gig, I had to bring in a few spooky friendly treats for everyone in office!” She rests her chin on her palm and squints her eyes at you, “where’s your costume?”

Your palms immediately get sweaty. It’s like disappointing a kid on Christmas by telling them that Santa isn’t real or your mom buying you a nice and modest dress for graduation, but you accidentally stain it. The nervousness to answer creeps up your throat and before you can speak, a voice answers for you.

“Isn’t it classic of y/n to dress up as an office worker?” Doyoung stands up in his cubicle to interject himself in the conversation. 

Mariel nearly loses a lung from how hard she laughs at Doyoung’s corny attempt at a joke. “It’s actually classic of the both of you to not wear your costumes to work.” She adds, wiping the tears from her crinkled eyes. “What’s next? Matching costumes?” 

“Mariel, it’s a surprise.” Doyoung plays it off smoothly.

“Let me guess, Barbie and Ken?” She taps the counter, like a buzzer on a game show to lock in her answer. You’re already shaking your head and Mariel frowns.

Doyoung sighs loudly and dramatically, “I know, Mar. I’d be such a good Barbie, but y/n didn’t want to give that to me.” Oh god, he’s good.

You laugh along, stiffly. “Well, that was the end of our potential matching costumes. We went our separate ways and you’ll see mine later today.” It is enough to get Mariel off of your back about not dressing up at work. Hurrying to settle your things, Doyoung walks around to your side. 

“Did you see how beautiful Daisy looked?” He muses, daydreaming about the whimsical fantasy of the office receptionist. “Must be a lucky guy.”

“She looks like a true flower.” You’re mindlessly unloading your essentials from your work bag and only half listening to Doyoung ramble. “Damn it, I left my coffee in your car.” Throwing your hands up in frustration, you’re already running late for your first meeting of the day with your supervisor. 

Doyoung doesn’t wait a second to push you back into your seat, thinking you could make a quick sprint if he had handed you his keys. “I’ll get it for you. Patricia already asked about your whereabouts.” He smoothly reaches over your shoulder to grab your laptop, the usual scent of his clean cologne brushes your nostrils lightly as the distance between you closes briefly. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears at the proximity, looking up at Doyoung’s long exposed neckline with his collarbones barely peeking out from his linen shirt. Under this dreary fluorescent office lighting, Doyoung looks rather dreamy. 

Nonetheless, you shake off this sudden and weird daydream when he hands you your laptop and makes his merry way to get you your coffee. You’ve got to be losing your mind, the mundane suffocating atmosphere of an office space is causing you to seek any thrills. You’re being delusional. You could never have feelings for Doyoung, of all the people, never Doyoung.

You come back from your meeting to your coffee neatly placed next to your monitor on a coaster and your bag with your costume in your chair. Silently, you grab your tote and rush off to the bathroom to change before anyone could notice your appearance and sudden disappearance. 

It wasn’t an extravagant costume and it was most definitely not the store bought ones from a pop-up Spirit shop. A black cat has been your go-to DIY last minute costume since college for those rendezvous frat parties or a drunk Halloween night out with your friends. Since it had to be work appropriate, a sexy black cat is out of the picture. 

Smoothing the strands of your hair to adjust the cat ear headband, you give yourself small whiskers with your black eyeliner. “Here’s to Halloween.” A small grumble to yourself, you’re out of the bathroom and briskly walking between cubicles in your slightly form fitting all black attire. 

Your head down and laying low, hoping that Mariel doesn’t notice your costume before you get to your own corner. Making it down the runway, Doyoung’s back is turned and completely working his life away. Somehow, your presence behind him causes a breakaway and he’s spinning around before you could hide back into your cubicle. 

“Thanks, Doyoung.” A small murmur escapes, but Doyoung hears you loud and clear. He doesn’t say anything, instead, his eyes rapidly take in your figure and change of attire. The cat ears on your head cause him to blush, something he didn’t know you could do to him so easily.

“A recurring costume, I’ll admit it’s better than my mask idea.” He gestures, awkwardly clearing his throat at the weird tension that rose from his obvious gawking. 

You’re puzzled, “I can’t recall a time you would’ve seen me like this.” It’s true, you two never spent a Halloween together since you had moved in with him and perhaps, those drunk college nights are too hazy for you to be too sure of yourself.

Doyoung chuckles to himself, peering down at his hands as he delightfully remembers the vivid memory of him catching a glimpse of you for the first time. “Halloween, third year. It was at the NCT yearly ‘Monster Mash’ party. I saw you briefly in the kitchen, looking through the empty bottles of liquor for a drink.”

Then it hits you! That was the night that you had arrived late to the party and almost ditched when there was no more booze left, but you encountered Jaehyun.

“That was so long ago! Wow,” your finger resting on your chin and looking back on the good ole times, “I can’t believe you remembered something like that.” Your voice grows smaller at the end of your sentence, full realization hitting you that Doyoung has known you before you had known him. He kept that memory to himself all these years.

Doyoung, also equally as shocked, feels caught in headlights. Nonetheless, something in his heart wants to open up to you and this feels like an open door opportunity. However, he isn’t sure if he is ready to ruin the dynamic the two of you share. What if he opens more than you’d take? One foot in the door, he can’t imagine this fleeting feeling would come again.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head that night.” He wholeheartedly admits and a heavy tug pulls at your heart. Your jaw drops slightly at his confession and your thoughts are running at godspeed. Doyoung’s heart is pounding in his ears. 

Before you could say anything, Mariel is walking back to her cubicle and is quick to address your costume. You’re half hearing her, mind still stuck on Doyoung’s words and wondering how differently your lives would have been if Doyoung had approached you that night instead of Jaehyun. What could have been? 

Rustic wooden panels cover the walls of The 127 Bar and Restaurant, giving it that upscale cabin/lodge-feel. Cobwebs lined with plastic spiders and pumpkins with ghoul expressions litter the corners of the counters. Festive Halloween music is muffled by the loud ambiance of chatter. You’re already counting down the hour of when it's socially acceptable for you to leave. 

Coworkers dressed in costumes is a silly concept to you, mainly because you don’t associate anything fun with work and you definitely don’t want to see your coworkers in anything else besides their slacks and button ups. Doyoung, however, beats that exception as he walks in with a black velvet cape and fake blood dribble down his chin. His suit vest is surely something straight out of his own wardrobe and there is way too much hair gel slicked in his hair.

“A vampire fits you much better than a masked prince.” Whether it is meant as an insult or a compliment, Doyoung smiles at your comment. 

“A black cat and a vampire, can we be any more cheery?” Doyoung says sarcastically, earning a small laugh as you look upon your very dark attires for the night.

Shrugging, you lightly pat his shoulder to guide him toward the VPs. “We all can’t be Daisy. She takes the cake for having optimism in this cruel corporate world. Now, let’s go get our attendance points so we can leave earlier.”

“A black cat mind reader? That elevates your costume a bit.” Doyoung smirks, leading the way to a doomful 15 minute conversation with important people. 

Doyoung surprises you by how social he can get. You two normally attend the usual happy hours that your coworkers like to have after work, but that is mostly among a few that sit on your floor. This mixer included every department and Doyoung jumps conversation to the next with ease and speed, you could hardly keep up.

“Okay, social butterfly. I haven’t heard you talk so much since college club meetings.” Raising an eyebrow, you’re stopping Doyoung from approaching another coworker dressed as a skeleton. 

“I haven’t seen you this quiet in a while. What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” He blinks at you with a dull expression.

Suddenly, you’re feeling self-conscious at how he noticed your silence. “Corporate happy hours aren’t my thing. I don’t particularly have interests with any of these people.” 

Doyoung purses his lips, “yet you seem to talk endlessly with me and we have nothing in common.” 

Clearing your throat, you’re unsure of this strange feeling in your chest. You and Doyoung have commonality in background – school, clubs, mutuals, profession – but interests seem to be way far out of scope for the two of you. While the few dinners you two would share are rather silent, it doesn’t eat you alive the same way corporate social events do. Despite the forced close proximity, you don’t know if you and Doyoung would actually be friends with each other. 

“Right, but it’s different for us.” Trying to save the sinking ship seems harder to do as you rack your brain for an argument. 

Doyoung tilts his head slightly, “different? How is it different?” In that moment, there is a shift in his demeanor as he tucks his hands into his pants pockets and leans back slightly on his heels. A hooded stare, eyebrow raised, and a smug smirk waits to hear how your relationship with Kim Doyoung is so different compared to your other coworkers. 

Feeling small under his gaze, you’re wondering why a heat travels across your cheeks. The Halloween music and robust atmosphere are completely tuned out at this point. “We have common things to talk about besides work, like mutuals! I don’t know– you just get me. Lately, I feel like you’ve been opening up a bit more.”

Doyoung nearly beams hearing the last part of your ramble because he feels exactly the same. You just get him, despite always being at each other’s throats. He knows that this banter would not work with anyone else, it had to be you.

It’s like with each interaction, you get closer to the key in unlocking everything about him. Without your knowledge, he so badly wishes you to be the one to find it. 

“Hey you two!” Greg from Finance wraps his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, appearing rather abruptly and startling the both of you. “How was your date at Bodega 127?” 

Your eyeballs nearly fall out of your socket at the word date being thrown carelessly when referring to you and Doyoung. Doyoung reacts quite nervously and is shocked as well at the odd choice of wording Greg decided to use. 

“I wouldn’t call it a date...” Doyoung chuckles, exchanging anxious glances with you. 

“Yeah, we’re not together.” You jump in with Doyoung at denying such a bold accusation. 

“Oh, come on! There’s no need to feel embarrassed. The whole office knows already, what’s the point in trying to hide it?” Greg continues to poke the bear. 

“I can see how it might come off that way, but Doyoung and I aren’t into each other like that.” Your eyes bounce between a skittish Doyoung and an overly-pushy Greg. “Right, Doyoung, you don’t like me that way?” You’re begging him with your stare, but for some reason, Doyoung hesitates long enough for you to notice.

“Uh yeah. We’re just coworkers.” He averts making eye contact with you and you’re thrown off your tracks at how off-putting he is being. You’re trying to hold back the confusion from showing on your face, but Greg takes the bait.

“Okay, I’ll stop berating you two about your relationship. But when Doyoung told me he brought you there, I will say I thought it was for a date night y’all were having. It’s that type of restaurant experience, y’know?” Greg lightly pats Doyoung on the back before walking off to chat with another group of coworkers. 

You’re standing still next to Doyoung and wondering why the fuck he hesitated when you asked him such an easy question. He doesn’t look your way, gaze remains glued to the floor.

“I think we should leave now.” He says, dashing toward Patricia to let her know of your exits. A sigh escapes your body, completely confused and lost at every feeling roaming in your chest.

The drive back home is completely silent. The elephant in the room becomes bigger at every stoplight. Most of the trip is you staring out the window, trying to process the last few scenes at the happy hour. Doyoung remains focused on the drive, so much that he forgets to put music on to distract from the stiffness in the air. 

When you two finally make it back up to the apartment, you’re the first to break the awkward silence. “Hey, uh– thanks for driving me around these past few days. The car shop told me that my car is ready tomorrow, so I won’t need to carpool with you anymore.”

He nods, despite the long sinking feeling of his heart reaching the bottom of his stomach. He has had so much fun with you lately being around him, he isn’t sure if he’s ready to go back to how things were — living so separately in the same place.

“Sorry about Greg.” Doyoung rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t know he would say something like that.” He gently wipes off the dried fake blood on his chin.

“We’re used to it, right?” The airy, lightness in your tone puzzles Doyoung. “At least he was courageous enough to actually address it to our faces instead of contributing to the gossip in the office.” 

“He’s just a big idiot.” Doyoung unties his cape and tosses it over the couch. “I shouldn’t have told him we went together.”

It somewhat offended you, “what? You don’t want to be seen with me or something?” You toss your headband onto the dining room table, fixing your hair back to its normal state.

However, Doyoung perks up at the evident tone in your voice and the scorn in your expression. “It’s not that.” 

“You know, Doyoung, you have been really confusing lately.” There is a pause before you continue, wondering how you should word this without sounding so rash.

“First, you’re knocking on my door and asking me to dinner. Then, you’re getting me my coffee from the car. And, you hesitated back there when I said you didn’t like me and our conversations recently have been different, so open ended.” 

Doyoung leans against the couch, arms crossed and  intently listening to your speech. “Are you implying that I have feelings for you?”

He sounds so snarky that it causes your skin to crawl, frustration fuels your soul at how delusional he is making you seem. “I’m just stating the facts.” 

Doyoung scoffs, arms falling back to his sides. A minute passes, but it feels nearly like forever given the silence in the room and how his eyes are glued to the ground, full of contemplation. However, not just any careless amount of contemplation, but real and genuine assessment on how he has felt over the past two weeks with you.

He opens his mouth to speak, but falls short of formulating a coherent sentence and feels a bit choked up and confused by himself. Though, you’ve been standing there and waiting for him and the silence has made you incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s a reach. There’s no possible way for you to harbor any feelings for me. We made that really clear to each other.” 

You’re turning to hide back into your room, but Doyoung quickly stands at your door frame, alert and before you. “It’s not entirely a reach….” He mumbles, “I can’t say confidently that I have true and full romantic feelings toward you, but I have been seeing you in a romantic light.” 

“I don’t fully understand what you mean.” Your eyebrows knit together, finding that his speech sounds too much like a riddle. 

He takes a deep breath in, exhaling to calm the waking nerves in his throat. “I’m beginning to understand that some of what I feel towards you is romantic, like I don’t want to stop being around you or I want to go out of my way to do things that make your life easier.” He smirks coyly to himself, breaking the intense exchange of dialogue between the both of you briefly, “I’m an acts of service kind of guy.” 

“Look, I’m saying that yes, I think I’m starting to have feelings for you. It wasn’t until recently did I feel like we’ve really gotten to spend time together after you’ve moved in.” His shoulders drop, “and I don’t know, I just– like you said, you just get me.”

This moment between the both of you is so real. There are no gimmicks, no foul play, no teasing and banter. Doyoung means every word he is saying. While a part of you wants to joke around and say something snarky, the other part of you feels serious and rather shocked at this confession.

Never in your mind did the potential of Doyung catering feelings toward you exist. And now, even more than ever, you’re actually reflecting on your own thoughts toward him. Doyoung is the first person you want to go to in a crowded room, it’s like you’re searching for him without realizing it. He’s the one you want to rely on, knowing how capable and responsible he is. Doyoung, given the chance, can really brighten up the room. 

If there was anyone in this world he chose to open up to, you wanted it to be you. 

“Can I kiss you?” Doyoung almost stopped himself from saying it, but he had to know. Your eyes are beyond huge at his request, the sound of thumping in your chest growing in your ears.

“What?” You croak, taken aback by this random out-of-character question. Doyoung’s cheeks are as bright red as a tomato, but he doesn’t break his intense eye contact. 

“Kiss me, I want to know if my feelings are real.” He steps a bit closer with lips parted slightly, rosy cheeks, and dilated pupils. Your shaky hands slowly reach to cup his face and there the beating of your heart quickens, fast enough to where you think you could faint. 

“If we kiss and neither of us feel anything, we’ll pretend it never happened.” You’re trying to cushion any chance at rejection, so that it wouldn’t end in complete disappointment from either one of you. It’s to soften the blow. 

Nevertheless, Doyoung nods in your hot hands and brings your chin close with the pull of his finger. Your lips pucker and land gently on his, your eyes still wide open and you’re in utter shock that Kim Doyoung, the man you thought you’d never kiss, is now kissing you. 

It’s as if fuel added to a flame, the fire in your stomach grows violently at this connection. Doyoung swears he could feel a sudden spark in his tight chest, electricity running in veins.

He pulls away and the contact between you two breaks as quick as it connected. He simply blinks at you, with a cute doe-eyed expression and red cheeks. You’re blinking back, heart in your throat and a desire to kiss him again. 

“Are your feelings real?” You ask him a question you’re scared to know the answer to, worried that he didn’t feel that same fire as you did from that kiss and he’d ask to pretend it never happened.

“Real, absolutely real.” Doyoung confirms with a breathy speech. He can’t pinpoint how long these feelings have been locked away and how long he has ignored them. Nonetheless, that kiss proves so much to himself, one being that he is way more head over heels for you than he thought. 

And the next course of action he chooses may ruin your current dynamic completely, but he fully and utterly wants to commit to you. He doesn’t tell you, worried that it may scare you off when he only wishes to hold you close.

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a brief moment of silence with tensions high and hearts beating fast. Both are unaware of how to proceed without making things awkward or shifting too greatly from your banterful friendship. 

So, Doyoung eases in with a request so telling, but gentle enough for the two of you to agree upon. “Let me drive you to work from now on.” 

Your eyes glimmer with a shine, clearing your throat before you speak. “Is this about our carbon footprint or something else?”

He chuckles, “we’re saving the Earth while I also get to spend more time getting to know you, it sounds like a win - win situation to me.” 

“And the rumors?” 

Doyoung leans down to whisper gently into your ear, “let them think what they want.” The same shivers that ran through your body before had returned, but accompanied with butterflies dancing lovingly in your stomach.

Strange how two weeks ago, you thought that the possibility of romantically being with Doyoung was close to none and the best way to describe the two of you was that you just coexisted together. But, here you two are: standing in the middle of your shared living room with sparkling eyes for each other and a newfound excitement for a new relationship, more than just coexisting.

[mercurypyrite]

ok so i finished book 6 last night so this is a bit belated but whatever. longass masterpost of my thoughts on everything post 6-81 incoming

i felt awful for vil (3hrs of crying, he’s gotta be dehydrated) but it was lowkey kinda funny how malleus just popped up and was like “i’m in your debt (according to lilia) (pretty sure this was just for their own amusement?? idk man they’re fae) so i’ll help 👍” and just kinda poofed him back to normal.

i think this is the… third time we’ve seen him do smth like that? first at VDC, then during endless halloween night, and finally now. (though EHN came first canonically.) he seems to be making a habit of it. and that joyful squeal? love that. (vil’s normally so poised, though — goes to show how deeply book 6, and being rudely confronted by his fear of aging, rattled him)

=

leona: i’ve been fighting all night and i’m dead on my feet

ruggie & jack: sorry what. PLEASE elaborate

=

once i saw adeuce the only thought left in my head was “MY BOYS THEYRE HERE” i’m so glad they’re okay like damn. it feels like everyone’s been gone longer than 2 days lmao

=

“Human lives are as ethereal as silk thread on a spinning wheel — and just as easily cut short. But their fragility can be a boon. Interweaving and layering those threads creates the strong, resilient tapestry of their history. Such is the creature called man — neighbor to we creatures of the night.”

so so tempted to make part of this my blog quote but it sounds so pretentious. not like the current one isn’t i guess. also sleeping beauty ref goes brrr

=

ortho (lovingly) dragging idia is one of my new favorite things i think

“You don’t have any close friends who can keep you in line yet, and I don’t know if you ever will. Not to put too fine a point on it, but leaving you to your own devices is a terrible idea. So… I want to stay with you. Is that asking too much?”

“You’ve been my real brother for a long time now, Ortho.”

“Let’s go back to Night Raven College. You’ve got people waiting for you there.”

“…Yeah, I do, huh.”

LIKE GOD. THEM. i want to stay with you. you don’t have to act like my little brother but you’ve been my real brother for a while now. you don’t have close friends but you DO have people waiting for you. they won’t forget. (and then he ends up gaming with vdc gang and bantering with ortho around them, slowly coming out of his shell if only temporarily, and i’m so soft over that)

=

refurbished ramshackle was nice to see but… not really surprising, lol. looks directly at the guest room feature. twsten rlly likes doing things out of order huh.

=

also yuu spent “a few weeks” at pomefiore?? honorary heartslabyul student yuu is out, honorary pomefiore student yuu is in. they even got a uniform!!

jk they can coexist

(i will make them coexist. i love them both sm)

(i wanna see riddle and vil fighting over yuu /hj)

=

“I was called before parliament in the Land of Dawning. Bigwigs from STYX, the Department of Education, AND the Department of Magic all bombarded me with questions and glared daggers at me… ‘Why are so many consecutive overblots happening on your watch?! How do you explain this?!’

“That’s what I want to know! What have I done, except run this school as diligently as I could?! Night Raven College has resident counselors and medical mages appointed by the Department of Education as it is!

“Since the assembly saw no major issues with the school’s leadership, the inquiry came to a close… But I certainly didn’t expect one of our students to bring about an off-campus catastrophe even as we convened!”

crowley actually getting in legal trouble (or at least being threatened with legal trouble) actually surprised me a lot??? i’m so used to thinking stuff like this would more or less get covered up for plot convenience or wtv that it’s nice to see crowley get smacked with it. rip headmage

ALSO rip therapist yuu memes bc NRC HAS THERAPISTS (tho theyre not rlly dead bc. no one SEES the therapists. probably. stubborn kids.)

=

seeing ortho again = no thoughts left in my head redux, “BABY BOY” edition!! he looks so nice!! i love the lil buttons!! rlly i love all the details, looking like an NRC uniform while still being undeniably ortho

“‘I don’t get it’ is a perfect encapsulation of my current state!”

LOL. he’s not wrong though.

=

…of course crowley took a bribe. i dunno why i’m surprised to hear that.

though in vil’s words, “It’s hardly our place to interject if it’s a win-win for both parties, I suppose.”

crowley’s inquiry about grim’s health makes me side-eye him more strongly the more i think about it. yes i know why (grim attacked yuu, was more strongly affected by the blot, etc) but i’m still suspicious, i wanna know if there’s more to it.

“I’m truly glad that you — ah, that is, ALL of you — made it back to the school safe and sound.”

the way he added “all of you” made it seem to me like they were an afterthought compared to grim…

=

twst rlly put aaaall the fluff at the end huh. not like i’m complaining though!! it’s like a reward for getting through all the angst. idia’s gift is very him (lol) and idia and ortho playing video games with everyone is adorable

“We should probably make Idia play holding the controller backwards or something, though. He’s super good.”

“I see what you’re doing, Ortho. Trying to skate by without any handicaps for yourself, huh? YOU’RE the one who needs extra restrictions, like no items allowed.”

=

play for a crowd! is also up there on my list of favorite twistunes but i can’t play it while sleep deprived or my score goes down the toilet. ask me how i know. half the time normal mode is harder than hard mode.

also i haven’t said it anywhere yet but idia’s battle theme is a banger too. ignihyde osts killed it

=

and rook and vil’s discussion of ortho’s soul!! screams!!

“He — or rather, they — chose to try and boost their brother up from the depths below to the skies above. What do you call such love and affection, if not a soul?”

=

the “dream” sequence was so interesting!! yuu and mickey can’t see anything but each other. grim can’t see mickey either, and vice versa.

but. mickey could see silver. why was silver at ramshackle at night? a reasonable assumption is that silver went to ramshackle to find malleus, couldn’t, and left, but really…

why could mickey see silver at all?

i’ve heard (though i haven’t got a source for this unfortunately) that silver says — somewhere — that he’s seen yuu before, or that they look familiar, or something along those lines. i wanna know if this is connected to that. also, silver’s curse. that too. sleep/dreams vs reality etc.

=

and last but not least, lilia is dropping death flags left and right and malleus is Concerned. to be fair, so am i. what’s going on, dude?

(sidenote: damn it riddle’s hair went back to normal. i was hoping he’d just have white hair now 😭)

(also, eagerly awaiting the “gloomurai is idia and muscle red is lilia” reveal in book 7. yana pls.)

(i… may have gotten spoiled a bit. unintentionally. so now i know that in book 7, [REDACTED].)

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 19.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 2400+

Chapter Nineteen:

“Peace offering delivery,” Y/N said as Steve opened the door for her.

“About time,” Steve laughed, taking the boxes out of her hand and leaning down to give her a kiss on the head before moving to the kitchen. “Where’s Beck? I thought you guys were coming together?”

“She said something about a meeting with a professor and going to the grocery store before dropping by. She should be here in probably less than half an hour or so,” Y/N shrugged, kicking off her shoes at the door and looking at the couch where Bucky was staring at her. “Hey, B.” she said sweetly. 

His nerves lightened at her acting normal as if he hadn’t confessed his love for her earlier. 

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he replied with a smile as she walked over to him. She stopped at the back of the couch and put her hands on his shoulders giving him a squeeze. “How was your day?”

“Eh, same old same old. Still waiting for those Roman documents to be transferred from another museum before I can really dive into my project, but besides that, good,” she smiled, leaning down and placing a kiss to his cheek before moving to the kitchen. 

“Ugh, I know I’m going to have to get used to that, but maybe give me a second to wrap my head around you two being together before doing any PDA,” Steve shivered as he pulled plates out from the cabinet where he could still see them in the living room. 

Bucky and Y/N laughing as they made their way to the food. 

“Get over yourself,” Y/N said, hip bumping her brother away from the pizza so she could dive in first. “Where’s Sam? You told him about movie night, right?”

“Movie night?” Bucky asked, tucking his hands in his pockets behind Y/N. 

“Yeah, did Steve not tell you?” she asked, making a plate for herself. 

“Can’t say I’m in the loop,” Bucky laughed. 

“In honor of all being best buds again, we’re celebrating with a movie night,” Y/N explained, with a wink to Bucky before moving around the kitchen like it was her own. 

“Just like the good ol’ days,” Steve nodded, making a plate for himself too. “Sam! War’s over!” he shouted down the hall where Sam almost instantly came out of his room. 

“I thought I smelled peace and pizza,” Sam smiled as he practically skipped in. 

Steve noticed Bucky slightly zoned out and realized him and Y/N probably needed to talk and catch up on everything. Of course, he didn’t realize the real reason why Bucky was zoned out. 

“Hey Sam,” Steve nodded once the two had their own plates. “Come help me pick out a movie for tonight while we wait for Becca.”

“What genre are we going for?” Sam asked with a bite of the new york pie in his mouth already. 

“Ooo!” Y/N started.

“No, no murder mystery,” Steve pointed. 

“But, last night we-”

“No,” Steve shook his head. 

“I like murder mystery-” Sam started.

“Don’t encourage her obsession,” Steve warned, pushing Sam out of the room. 

“Jackass,” Y/N scoffed, taking a bite of pizza as they left. Bucky laughed coming up to her and placing a kiss to her forehead. “Hey,” she smiled. 

“Hey,” he smiled back. 

“I’m guessing things went well considering his mood. He seems back to normal,” she gleamed. 

“Really well. We both came to the conclusion we were idiots,” Bucky nodded. She laughed at him before there was a slight silence. “Listen, about earlier today on the phone,” he began. His cheek bones almost instantly turned a shade darker. “I didn’t plan to make things awkward. What I said just kinda slipped out,” he noted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. 

Having not been looking at her, he was shocked to feel her hands wrap around his neck and bring his eye down to hers. 

“You didn’t make things awkward,” she smiled. 

“We’ve been dating two months Y/N. I didn’t want to scare you away…” he noted not breaking eye contact. “So don’t feel obligated to say it if you don’t feel that because-,” He was on the verge of rambling. 

Placing a finger over his lips, she cut him off. 

“You aren’t scaring me away, B,” she said with a soft smile. 

“I’m not?” he questioned with her finger still on his lips. 

She laughed before moving her hands to his shoulders. 

“Yes, we’ve been dating two months, but we’ve known each other for what? 23 years?” she tilted her head. He moved in grabbing her hips ever so gently. “I think it’s easier to figure out your feelings for someone in this kind of situation when you’ve known them your whole life,” she shrugged. 

“I wanted to make it special,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead down to hers. No longer nervous, but more so embarrassed. 

“Saying it in itself is special, Buck. You don’t need some monumental moment like the movies tricked us into thinking we do,” she giggled. The sound made a wide smile form on his face. “And in saying that,” she smiled, pulling back to see his face fully. Her eyes switching back and forth between his blue ones. “The feeling is very much mutual.”

His face went blank for a second. Wait, did she just say she loved him back? In a different way, but she said it, right?

“Wait, you-?” he started, but when he didn’t finish his sentence, Y/N laughed. 

“Yes, B. I love you as well,” she smiled widely. His grin copying hers almost instantly. “Call me crazy, but-”

“Hey, if you’re crazy, then I’m just as crazy,” he stopped her before leaning down for a kiss. 

They smiled into the kiss after the confession of love. Sure it wasn’t the textbook written way of saying those three little words. But who cared? The meaning behind it was all that mattered in those kinds of moments. And if they meant it, which they both very much did, that’s all it took to make them both feel like they were walking on cloud nine. 

“Ok, I’m all for you guys being together, but it’s going to take me a second with the PDA,” Becca’s voice sounded from behind them shocking them both. 

Bucky pulled back looking at his sister who had scrunched up her face as she put her purse on the kitchen island. Y/N immediately burrowing into his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped her into him with a laugh. 

“Are you guys making out in my kitchen?” Steve sounded from the other room. “Come on guys! I just figured all this out the other day. I’m still adjusting!”

“Adjust faster then!” Y/N shouted to her brother. 

“Yeah, and you and Steve can get over yourselves,” Bucky said to his sister.

“Beck, I think we’re going to get ganged up on a lot more,” Steve retorted from the other room. 

“I think you’re right, Stevie,” Beck shook her head with a laugh. “When you guys are done making out, care to join us for the movie night we had planned?” she asked as she made a plate for herself. 

“Get out of here!” Bucky chided, throwing a towel from the counter at her. 

“Sheesh, I’m going. I’m going,” she huffed, grabbing her things quicker as she went back to the living room.

“This is going to be an interesting time,” Y/N laughed. 

“I’d have to agree with that,” Bucky shook his head with a deep breath. Looking down at her one more time, he bent down for another quick kiss. “What are the odds Steve picked an old 60’s spy film?” 

“High. I’d say the odds are high,” she nodded. 

“God help us all.”

_________________

The entire crew had a good night hanging out all together. Sam and Y/N had hit it off and had started to become good friends even though this was only really their 2nd or 3rd time hanging out. 

They bantered and also obsessed over murder mysteries and surprisingly, Sam was very much into greek gods as well. He didn’t know much about other cultures' Gods, but one group was all it took for Y/N and him to go on and on about the topic. 

Bucky having rolled his eyes on multiple occasions when he and Sam would go back sassing the other, and Y/N now started defending Sam really only as a way to tease Bucky. God, the two together were going to be a handful for him. 

Steve and Bucky were practically back to normal though the rest of the evening. It was a little weird seeing his best friend and his little sister cuddled into each other on the loveseat by themselves, but he reminded himself they were happy. He was going to have to get over the weirdness. Though, it was fun for him and Beck to tease them on it and make them blush or retort something sarcastic back to them. 

In the end, the night was a night to remember. It was rounding about midnight now and Becca had just left. Sam was headed off to bed saying his goodnights and getting a quick late-night snack before disappearing into his room. Leaving Steve, Bucky, and Y/N in the living room with Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing in the background. 

“Ok, I think I’m going to call it a night for myself. I’ll probably go in my actual hours tomorrow,” Steve yawned standing and stretching. “What about you? See you tomorrow like usual?”

“Don’t know yet. Fury said I can come in later tomorrow since things are slow in my department. I’ll probably just go in for a few hours honestly,” Bucky shrugged softly. Y/N had fallen asleep on his chest and was completely knocked out.

Steve looked down at his sleeping sister and laughed softly. “You got her?”

Bucky looked down, seeing that she had her hand covering where his heart was and was completely nuzzled into him in comfort. 

“Always,” he chuckled lightly, not to wake her up. “She said she was going to spend the night. You ok with that?”

It was weird. Steve had to admit it. But he trusted Bucky. He said it earlier, if there was anyone on this planet that would treat his sister right and protect her, it was Buck. 

“Yeah, man. I mean it’ll be weird to me for a while, I’m not going to lie, but it’s not my decision to make. Just, just don’t let me hear anything,” he said with a cringe. 

“Steve, I’ve already told you, we haven’t done anything like that. It’s only been two months man,” he shook his head. 

“I know. I know, it’s just. You know what? Talking about it just makes it weird. I’m going to bed,” Steve waved off. “You guys do whatever you do, just don’t tell me.”

Bucky laughed at his innocent friend who was trying his best to be accepting and not be an overbearing brother at the end of the day. No matter how bad he wanted to. 

“Go to bed, punk. I’ll take care of her,” Bucky laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Good night,” Steve walked out. 

Once Steve was down the hall and Bucky heard his door shut, he looked back down at Y/N. Yup, sound asleep. 

He didn’t want to wake her, but there was no way he was going to be able to sleep in the position he was in for a whole night, and eventually she would wake up with a crick in her neck too if they stayed like that too long. 

Gently, he ran his hand up and down her arm to slowly wake her. 

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up,” he said softly, laying his cheek on her head. 

“Hmmm,” she hummed nuzzling into him more. 

“We can go to bed, but I promise you won’t want to sleep here at the end of the night,” he chuckled at her protest. 

“I’m comfy,” she mumbled barely audibly.

“I bet, but I can promise, my bed’s a lot more comfy,” he hummed kissing the top of her head. 

“Fine, but will you carry me?” she asked, throwing her arms over his shoulder. 

He chuckled again before adjusting his arms in the best way to lift her. “Of course, doll.” As if she was a feather, he maneuvered her off the couch with him and walked her to his room. 

He placed her on one side of the bed, walked over and turned on his lamp before going back, and pulling the blankets over her. Instantly, she cuddled into his pillows and bedside. Luckily she was already in shorts and a t-shirt when she came over, so she didn’t really need to change, but he went and grabbed her overnight bag at the front door anyway. 

“Want to change, or-” he asked, placing it on her side of the bed. 

“No, ‘m ok,” she mumbled, pulling the covers up more to her chin. 

“Ok, baby. I’m going to go to the bathroom and I’ll be right back,” he smiled, kissing her forehead before walking off. 

When he got back, she was sound asleep again but now facing his side of the bed. And as soon as he was changed and maneuvered under the covers, it’s like her body sensed him and she shimmied over to him before he could move to her himself. 

Immediately going back to the position she had been in while on the couch. Her arm thrown over his torso and her head resting in the nook of his side and arm. Perfectly and comfortably puzzle pieced into his side. 

“Goodnight, Y/N/N. Sweet dreams,” he grinned, happy that they no longer had to hide anything and it was all free of worry from here on out. “I love you.”

(Tags for this series is closed. If you would like updates, please turn on my notification:)

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[ichayalovesyou]

You know, I LOVE all of the Triumvirate (Spones, Spirk, McKirk, McSpirk) ships and just how beautiful and impactful Star Trek: The Original Series has been on the LGBT+ community. Honestly, you just can’t deny that there is a wealth of gay subtext in the show (more so than other shows from the era). I’m here to gush over the lingering glances and obsess over flirty banter just as much as the next shipper.

However

I really do think it’s a testament to how screwed up American culture is. We live in a country and in an era where toxic masculinity has permeated so rancidly through our culture that the genuine, caring, tender interactions between men are almost assumed to be Homoromantic by today’s standards. Not necessarily in a “oh no GAY IS BAD” way, but as a neutral, unspoken assumption of this generation and its shippers.

Americans already live in an insanely touch starved, sex-obsessed (yet sex-repulsed) culture, and it’s only gotten worse since the time The Original Series aired. So now that half a century has passed, things that were perceived as normal and friendly to the original audience come off as flirting to us, because, as a general rule of our culture, men are not encouraged to rely on each other for emotional support, hell, even a gentle, helping hand, it’s seriously screwed up.

While the 60s and prior were more verbally misogynistic, it wasn’t as subliminal and internalized as it is now. Two guys were allowed to be genuine and gentle with each other in non-dramatic high-stakes scenes on TV and in books without it being perceived as gay subtext. I mean I can’t tell you the last time I saw a show with regular, tender/genuine interactions between two (or more) male characters where they weren’t:

father-son/brothers/bio or adopted family

Being (at varying intensities) shipped. Again, nothing wrong with shipping at all I love it!

The show having a go at the LGBT+ representation game.

That wasn’t a comedy (comedies get a little more grace but sometimes they’re even worse when it comes to the toxicity/sexism department).

It’s just not something you see anymore, most interactions between two dudes on Dramas these days are fighting physically/verbally, are cold and calculating with each other for Plot Reasons, or just straight up hate each other and can’t exist in the same scene without making mean jokes about each other.

I honestly think that’s why a lot of non-homophobic older generation Trekkies (that aren’t fandom/shipping grandparents obv) don’t see it, they didn’t grow up in the same, weird, touch-starved era of sexism we have.

I wish more shows were like Star Trek in that way, where people are allowed to be friends and have healthy relationships with no weirdness based on gender or expectations or anything else. It’s something that makes TOS stand out amongst the other Star Treks. These men love each other, they’re not family in the traditional sense, their relationships are nuanced and well developed, and how you interpret the love in those relationships is subjective, if you interpret it as queer (like I and many others do) that’s fantastic! Do what makes you feel loved and seen that’s what fiction is for!

It’s not that there is no subtext between the TOS triumvirate (because there definitely is, at the very minimum between Spock & Kirk, or if you wanna be a stick in the mud, just acknowledge Spock is queer-coded) but it is a cultural thing I’ve noticed between (reasonable) older fans and new, and in generations of TV in general.

[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - John Watson x Reader - Better Late Than Never - Words: 2,679

A/N: This was the prompt: Reader went to med school with John, she liked him but never told him so. John gets deployed and they lose contact. A few years later they meet again because of a case.

"C'mon, Y/N," John laughed. "If you don't study for the test tomorrow, I won't give you the ice cream I bought!" 

"Is it Death By Chocolate?" You replied, raising your head only slightly from it's spot on the floor. 

"Maybe," He replied with a smirk. The two of you were in your dorm, trying to study for the quarter finals. You were in your 6th and final year of med school. You'd met about halfway through your 2nd year and had instantly become close friends. Small displays of affection were normal between the two of you, the type that best friends would share without giving a second thought. John didn't have a clue, but you had developed quite the crush on him. You never told him, though, for fear of messing up the one good friendship you had. 

"John!" You groaned, dramatically sprawling out further on the carpet. "I think my brain has died." You had been trying to remember everything you'd studied and were coming up blank. 

"Hm, I'm studying to be a doctor, not a coroner, but I would say time of death was somewhere between 6 years ago and now," He teased, leaning over you from his nearby perch on your futon. Pretending to be mad, you threw your foot up and kicked his leg. 

"You git!" You exclaimed with a grin.

"Oi!" He replied, dramatically tumbling to the floor next to you. You both lost yourselves in a fit of giggles. You stopped laughing and just stared at him when your brain caught up with your eyes and you had one of your "moments". He looked so happy lying there next to you, laughing his head off. His hair was a mess, his jumper had gotten abit twisted and was creeping up his torso, and his eyes were bright with tears of laughter. "You ok, Y/N?" He asked when he noticed you had stopped laughing. 

"Yeah, just thinking," You replied quickly. 

"Ok, as long as it's nothing serious," He said. "Really, if anything is bothering you, you can talk to me. You've been zoning out more often recently so," He looked away, a bit embarrassed. "I was worried."

"I'm fine, John," You replied, not having the guts to tell him what was really on your mind. 

About a year later, only 3 months after graduation, John called you. You still kept in touch, although you lived in different cities now, and your feelings hadn't changed. John had dated a few different girls but nothing ever worked out. You, though? You had gone on one date but left halfway through when the guy wouldn't shut up about himself and asked if you were splitting the check. John had told you he had applied at a small clinic near his apartment so you assumed his call was to update you on that. "Hey!" You said, picking up immediately.

"Uh, hey, Y/N," He said, sounding fairly upset. "Look, I," He sighed. "You remember that I enlisted a few months ago?"

"Yes," You replied, a lump forming in your throat. 

"I've just gotten my deployment letter. They're sending me to Afghanistan. I leave this Friday." Silent tears streamed down your face and you found yourself unable to reply. "Y/N? Are you still there?" He asked.

"Yeah," You choked out. "Yeah, I'm still here, John. I, well, I guess I should wish you well then." You pinched the bridge of your nose and breathed deeply, trying to get ahold of yourself. 

"Look, I know you're not a fan of the military but can't you at least congratulate me? This is something I wanted after all."

"Is it? Is it really?" You nearly yelled. "You didn't sound all that cheery two minutes ago when I picked up the phone! Besides, how could I congratulate you when all I can see is you getting blown to bits out there!"

"Sorry," He replied immediately. "That, that wasn't fair of me to ask." You both were silent for a moment before John spoke up again. "I'll write." 

"Not with that handwriting you won't, " You replied, falling back into your regular banter. 

"I'll try to make it legible for you," He promised. You nodded, though he couldn't see you, and started crying again.

"Alright," You said. "Can I drive over Friday and see you off?" 

"Best not," He said. "I think it's better for both of us, yeah?" You reluctantly agreed. The two of you chatted for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. Shaking off the foreboding feeling that had settled on you, you continued with your day and started planning your first letter to him. 

The first few weeks went well, his letters arriving regularly on Friday's without fail. Then one week it came on Monday instead, the next on Wednesday, and soon two weeks passed without a letter. When you finally received it, he said that they had gotten to a point where it was getting harder and harder to safely send a receive mail. He asked for you to stop all letters and promised to find you again when, or if, he got home. That night you wrote him one final letter but, of course, never sent it. You were determined to move on with life now but you promised yourself to never forget him.

"Good morning, Molly," You said walking into the hospital with her. You'd moved to London and gotten a job at St. Bart's, working in the outpatient clinic. A few weeks after starting there, you'd met Molly while on break. You exchanged numbers and started meeting in the cafeteria if you both had breaks at the same time. In time you met Sherlock. What an experience that had been. He immediately deduced which department you worked in, how long you'd been there, where you went to college, when you went to college and he even figured out that you'd been in love with someone in uni and never got over them. Needless to say, you were impressed. Ever since then he texted you occasionally for confirmation on medical related hypotheses.

"Good morning, Y/N," Molly replied. 

"Have you heard from Sherlock recently? I haven't gotten any texts from him in the past few weeks." Molly chuckled and nodded. 

"I've heard from him. He has a new flatmate. A doctor too!" 

"Wow!" You replied. "Good for him! Let me know next time he comes by so I can meet him. I'd like to know who my replacement is," You teased. Molly giggled and you continued chatting as you walked over to the elevator. As the doors were about to close, you heard someone yell.

"Hold the lift!" You slammed the open doors button and Sherlock ran in. He nodded at you and you let go of the button. The doors started to slide closed again when another person called out.

"Sherlock!" You froze hearing that voice. You tried to get the doors in time but missed.

"Y/N?" Molly asked, worriedly. "Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost!" You nodded and leaned on the wall, trying to get yourself together. You decided to ride up to Molly's floor and see if Sherlock's friend came up on the next lift. Sherlock kept staring at you, confused, while you sat there waiting. A few minutes later, he came storming in the door. 

"Sherlock! What were you thinking? Why didn't you hold the lift for me? I had to wait for the next one which happened to-"

"John," You gasped, amazed that it actually was him standing in front of you. "John!" You exclaimed, jumping up and running over.

"Y/N!" He replied, a grin spreading on his face. His smile faltered quickly though. "I," He said. "I need to be going. I forgot I had an appointment. Yeah. That's it. I'll see you at the flat, Sherlock." John quickly limped out the door and off to the elevator.

"He's the one, isn't he?" Sherlock said after a few moments. You nodded sadly. 

"Why'd he run off like that?" You asked. 

"Well it's obvious he didn't have an appointment. That leaves two possible reasons for his lying. One he could be-"

"Oh shut up, Sherlock!" You cried. "I know why he left. I-" You cut yourself off, choking back a sob. "Just sod it all! I need to go to work. I'll see you at lunch, Molly." You ran off, down the hall and to the elevator. 

"Molly, I know that look in your eyes," Sherlock said once you'd left. "What are you planning?"

"The perfect set up. Now help me-"

"Molly," Sherlock interrupted her. "I may not understand a lot of things related to the topic of human relationships but I can tell you this, if either of us were to get involved, we may be maimed." Molly nodded in agreement.

Weeks went by and you worked harder than ever, taking extra shifts whenever you could. Your boss finally told you to take a week off to recharge. After much arguing, you relented and headed home for a week. Being alone all day, however, left your mind wandering. Thinking back to what might have been. To occupy your time, you decided to catch up with one of your good friends who lived nearby. You hadn't had the chance to hang out in some weeks but you texted each other every day. When you didn't hear from her yesterday, you worried but figured she probably was just tired. "Maybe she'll have some good advice for me," You told yourself. Knocking at her door, you checked your phone again to see if she had replied yet. Now you were really worried. You grabbed your spare key to her apartment and went in. 

"What do you want?" Sherlock said, answering his phone.

"Sherlock, it-it's Y/N. Can you," You paused, taking a shaky breath. "Can you come down here please? I need your help. Lestrade's already on his way."

"On my way," He replied, grabbing his coat and scarf. "What happened?" As you explained to him everything, he grabbed John's coat and tossed it to him. John was mildly confused of course, but went along. 

"I went in and found her in the bathroom," You told him. "I'm probably missing something obvious. I'm sorry," You cried.

"No, you're doing fine," Sherlock said genuinely. John looked at him surprised as they got into the cab, still not aware of who was on the other end of the call. "We'll be there in 7 minutes."

"We?" You asked. But Sherlock hung up before he answered. 

"Y/N?" Greg said, coming up behind you. "I hate to say this but, we're going to need a statement. Do you want to wait till Sherlock gets here?"

"No, it's alright. Let's get it over with." A few minutes later, you'd told Greg everything you knew and he'd gone inside with the others to investigate. A cab pulled up and Sherlock rushed out. "Sherlock!" You exclaimed running up to him. As you approached, you saw another person getting out of the cab. "Why did you bring him?" You hissed.

"He's my assistant, flatmate and, if I have deduced correctly, a friend of both of us," Sherlock said.

"Look, that was years ago, I don't even know if-" You started whisper-yelling. You got cut off though when John walked up. You noticed he was limping again. 

"John," Sherlock said. "I believe you're acquainted with Y/N. You're much better with people than I am," He stated briefly before going into the apartment.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," John said once Sherlock left. You nodded, sitting down on a nearby bench before your legs gave way from exhaustion. 

"She was a good friend of mine. I don't know what could have happened." John was quiet as he sat down next to you.

"Sherlock will figure it out. If anyone can, it's him," He finally said.

"That is for certain," You replied with a dry chuckle. "So how did you meet Sherlock?"

"Oh, well, you remember Mike Stamford?" 

"From uni? Yeah, I remember him."

"Well, he introduced me to Sherlock. We were both in need of a flatmate and he matched us up." John paused for a moment, brows furrowed. "That sounds much too much like a bad dating ad. Mike got us together."

"Nope, that's worse," You replied chuckling.

"You understand."

"I think so," You finally replied. "So," You paused. You were so desperate to ask him more but you weren't sure if this was the best time. "Oh, well, nevermind. Glad that worked out." You quieted again, staring off down the street. John looked at you for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Right, yes. So, what have you been up to?"

"Work. I got a job at St. Bart's about 2 years ago. That's how I met Molly and therefore Sherlock." You were silent for a moment before adding one more thing. "I've missed you, John."

"I've missed you too," He admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't write or call when I got back. I-" He sighed and absently rubbed at his leg. "I couldn't. I was scared, if I'm being honest."

"Why? What happened?"

"You know we got sent into a very dangerous area. That's why I had to stop writing to begin with. But then, well, I got shot."

"Your leg?" You asked since he had been limping and rubbing at it. 

"Ah, shoulder actually. The limp is psychosomatic. It comes and goes when I'm particularly worried or upset."

"Oh, I'm sorry," You said, not completely sure of what to say.

"I've been back in London for about a year. I looked you up actually. I found out you were working at Bart's. That's why I ran into Mike that day. I was in a park nearby, trying to work up the nerve to go and see you."

"Why didn't you?" You asked. He looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's ok. I should be honest." He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled nervously. "I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I didn't come back as some 'war hero'. I'm a washed up medic who can't even walk correctly."

"It's psychosomatic, right?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Sherlock says so."

Well then, you have nothing to fear." He looked at you questioningly. "You know I never cared about the military so I could honestly care less if you came back known as some 'war hero' or not. You're not washed up, just look at you! Out here solving mysteries with the world's only Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes! And you can too walk right! You're just too scared to."

"I'm not so sure-" You interrupted him by leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. Pulling away with a giggle you got up and ran a few feet away. 

"You'll have to come here to get another!" 

"Oh, you devil," He grinned. He got up and walked over to you quickly, picking you up, spinning you around and giving you another kiss. You laughed happily and leaned on his shoulder. 

"See? You did just fine!" 

"I suppose I did, didn't I?" He chuckled. 

"Oh, John," You giggled. "I should have told you a long time ago. I love you, John Watson." He smiled from ear to ear.

"I love you too, Y/N L/N. But a crime scene isn't really the best place to do this at."

"Why not? We giggle at murders all the time?" Sherlock suddenly butted in.

"How long have you been standing there?" John yelled.

"Well," Greg suddenly said, a few feet away and holding up his phone. "This video is already 4 minutes long, so," He trailed off.

"John," You said, not taking your eyes off the two other men.

"Yes, love?" He asked as you reached for his hand.

"Let's get 'em." You then spent the rest of the afternoon chasing Sherlock and Greg around the neighborhood, enjoying their girly shrieks, until Mycroft showed up and put a stop to it. Later that evening, you and John were enjoying some Chinese takeaway back at your apartment.

"I really can't apologize enough for leaving you in the dark, Y/N," John said. "I should have written," He chided himself.

"It's alright, John," You assured him. "Actually, you just reminded me of something. Wait here a moment." You ran off to your room and pulled an envelope out of a small box in your desk. You returned to the living room and held it out to John. "This is for you. It was my last letter but," You paused, blushing lightly. "I never mailed it."

My Dear Captain Watson,

I hope you're doing well. I hope you're staying safe and helping as many as you can. I hope -

Oh what am I writing. John, there's something you should know and I wish I could tell you in person but better now than never I suppose.

I love you.

There. Feel free to never write me back again or return this with a 'Dear John' letter. Well, you know what I mean. I wish I could have said it better or sooner but I was scared to lose your friendship. Now I'm more scared of actually losing you.

John, please return safely. Even if we never speak again. The world should not be without John Watson.

All my love,

Y/N

"Y/N," John said, tears in his eyes after reading your letter. "Why didn't you send it?"

"Well, you had asked me not to write anymore since it was dangerous and," You paused, shaking your head sadly. "I chickened out again."

"Well, I guess what they say is true then." You looked at him quizzically as he pulled you close to him and leaned his forehead on yours. "Better late than never."

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

[viia01]

A random thing I wrote that has no ending

Bruce hid a sigh as he listened to the third speaker of the night tell another terrible joke. He laughed with everyone else, too tired to do more. Ordinarily, he would lean into the opportunity to act the part of Brucie Wayne.

But he really wasn’t in the mood tonight.

The last mission with the Justice League had run overtime and Bruce was running on two hours of sleep. Ordinarily, lack of sleep wouldn’t slow Bruce down any, but for some reason he just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Briefly, he wondered why he hadn’t allowed Alfred to make his excuses.

The presenter came back onto the stage, not so subtly wrestling the microphone away from the rambling, somewhat drunk speaker from Luthor’s company.

Bruce tuned out the speech about Wayne Enterprises’ contributions to the development of new jet propulsion technology. He had had very little to do with the development, only funded it, so most of the technical talk was going straight over his head.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Bruce glanced to his right and saw that Hal Jordan had sat himself down in the chair behind Bruce. “Go away. We’re not supposed to know each other. People will talk.”

“Please, they’re too busy making eyes at the pretty boy you got up there singing Wayne Enterprises praises,” Hal scoffed. He was dressed in a well fitted tuxedo, though he had swapped the black jacket out for a forest green jacket decorated with elaborate rose designs.

There was a thump against the back of Bruce’s chair, and he looked down in confusion and saw that Hal had tipped his chair back on two legs, the back of it now resting against the back of Bruce’s. “Really? Are you five?”

Hal grinned at him lazily and leaned his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “No, but we’re both bored so I thought I’d entertain myself.”

“You were invited because of Ferris Air’s work with Wayne Enterprises, not to entertain yourself,” Bruce said, putting on a smile when he saw a few people looking over at him. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for Brucie Wayne to be distracted by a pretty face at an event, but Bruce didn’t have the energy or patience to put on the act tonight. “Go back to your table and Ms. Ferris.”

“See normally, I’d just put up with the crappy puns and eat all the food, but the food sucks. So now I’m not just bored, but also hungry,” Hal said, ignoring Bruce, head still resting on Bruce’s shoulder. “Is that your doing? Because if you paid them for this catering… you should get your money back.”

Bruce sighed again. “Hal…” he warned.

“Watery champagne and tiny canapes, Bruce!” Hal said teasingly, tilting his head to look at Bruce. There was a mischievous glint to his eyes.

Bruce looked at him, putting on another smile. Most people were still listening to the presenter talk about the new jet propulsions, but there were bound to be a few people watching them. “Go. Back. To. Your seat.”

Hal blinked at him a few times. “I really don’t want to. There’s an old couple there that keeps asking me if I want to ‘join them afterwards for drinks’,” he said with a grimace. “Somehow I don’t think they want drinks.”

Bruce was tired. And sore. And the last thing he wanted right now was to listen to Hal Jordan’s whining.

“And I’m getting the vibe that the rich-guys-masturbating-over-their-own-money scene isn’t exactly your speed either,” Hal continued blithely, still ignoring Bruce’s irritation. “What do you say we go and find somewhere that’s serving actual food?”

“I have responsibilities,” Bruce said immediately, clapping politely when the presenter introduced General Thomasson as the next speaker.

Hal tipped his head back further to look at the stage. “Oh shit, the big wigs are here,” he said dryly. “What do you say, Spooks? Wanna go find a burger joint?”

“No, now go back to your seat.”

Hal sighed dramatically. “You’re boring,” he said, letting his chair fall back onto all its feet with a muffled thump. He rose, the dim light playing over his face in a way that made his eyes look more amber than brown. “Guess it’s back to eating stale canapes.”

Bruce sighed as Hal walked away, ambling back to his table. In his ridiculous suit jacket, Hal looked very much the epitome of flashy West Coast flyboy and Bruce wasn’t the only one watching him.

Bruce shook thoughts of Hal Jordan away, focusing on the stage again.

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

Bruce ran through the notes he needed to hit in his speech. It was a fairly standard speech, talk about the minds behind the advances, explain the advancements as the video played, make a few jokes, and then close out by thanking everyone for coming.

For all of Bruce’s practice at playing the gregarious, fun loving Brucie Wayne, he actually didn’t enjoy it very much. It was exhausting, wearing the mask all the time and he was tired.

And hungry.

Hal had been right about the stale canapes.

“You did some really good work, Wayne,” General Thomasson said gruffly, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. “These planes will give us the edge over our enemies.”

“Anything for our troops,” Bruce said, mustering up a smile. “Can’t have them going without the best.”

The General chuckled. “And it’s only going to set the taxpayer back a couple billion, right?”

“Got to keep those stocks high,” Bruce countered jokingly. In reality, he and Lucius were already planning to wean Wayne Enterprises off the military contracts that sustained the R&D department and supplement it with investment into green energies and space exploration.

But the General didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Well, I need to go and prepare for this speech of mine,” Bruce said, even though he really didn’t. “Lots of technical speak tonight and I have to make sure I pronounce everything right.”

The General gave him a patronizing smile and wave. “Off you go, Wayne. We’ll talk business some other night.”

Bruce ducked behind a set of piled speakers and sound equipment. He pulled out his phone, to give himself a convenient cover of taking a phone call.

He took a moment to compose himself. All the small talk had taken a toll on his patience and his eyes stung with exhaustion. He knew he needed sleep and a good meal, considering how fuzzy and slow he was feeling. And the thought of going up onto that stage and enduring hours more so small talk and smiles-

“You make a big sale with the military brass?”

Bruce didn’t jump but he was surprised that he hadn’t noticed Hal’s appearance behind him. “What are you doing back here?” he asked.

Hal was holding a tray of canapes and his bowtie was untied and hanging around his neck. “Hiding from the creepy couple,” he said, offering the tray to Bruce. “You want one?”

“No. Go back to your seat,” Bruce said in exasperation. “How did you even get back here in the first place?”

Hal crunched on another canape and pulled a face. “My good looks and charm. Sure you don’t want a stale canape? It tastes like cardboard.”

“I don’t want a canape.”

Hal shrugged lazily. “So why are we hiding behind a bunch of sound equipment?” he asked through a mouthful of canape, looking at one of the speakers curiously.

“I’m not hiding, and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m not supposed to be a lot of things,” Hal countered immediately. “And you’re totally hiding.”

“I am not hiding,” Bruce snapped, irritated by Hal’s very presence. He had hoped that tonight, Hal would just spend his time as far away from Bruce as possible, especially since they had had a blow out the mission before. “Go away.”

Instead of listening, Hal just arched an eyebrow at him, munching on his cardboard canapes. “You don’t want to go on that stage, huh?” he guessed.

Bruce waited for an insult or a joke at his expense.

But Hal just looked around the speakers, in the direction of the stage. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. We’ve had like ten different speakers and I remember nothing of what was said or who said it.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention, then,” Bruce replied. “And I enjoy honoring the men and women who worked hard on this latest breakthrough.”

“None of them are even here,” Hal pointed out blandly, shoving the canape tray behind one of the pieces of sound equipment. “You probably already gave them a billion dollars anyway.”

“If I gave everyone a billion dollars, I wouldn’t be a billionaire for very long,” Bruce couldn’t help but say in exasperation. He really wondered if Hal ever thought before he spoke or if he just made it up as he talked.

Hal swiped a tongue over his teeth, giving Bruce a funny look.

On stage, Bruce could hear the presenters winding up to his introduction. He steeled himself with a sigh, pulling Brucie Wayne back over himself.

Hal tilted his head and then smiled, cocky and self-assured. “I wasn’t kidding about that burger, by the way,” he said.

“What?” Bruce asked.

Hal held out a hand, palm up. “You wanna blow this popsicle shop, Spooks?” he asked, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Popsicle stand,” Bruce corrected, irritated.

“Whatever, Bruce Wayne,” Hal said, rolling his eyes.

There was a beat and Bruce could hear the presenters bantering with each other. It was nearly time for them to introduce him.

Bruce had responsibilities.

He had to give this speech and thank the team for their hard work. It was their accomplishment and the least Bruce could do was show up to thank them publicly.

He couldn’t just leave and galivant around like Hal seemed to think he could.

Hal arched an eyebrow at Bruce questioningly, hand still out. His eyes were alight with amusement, the same cocky self-assuredness that got on Bruce’s nerves.

Only now it seemed less annoying.

“Offer’s expiring,” Hal sang, eyes darting to the stage and back.

Bruce took his hand.

[itsthemysteryofthedroods]

Halligan and Lowry may have some sort of a rivalry going on, but think about this: Steve doesn't change his pose to a normal, "human" one when Brent enters his office, which means he's perfectly comfortable with Brent watching him floating above the chair. Brent doesn't comment on it either. I feel there's something more to their relationship than it seems. 🤔

I enjoy the idea that Steve is something more than human, and that he needs to keep up an act. Honestly, looking at him, he very well could be. I suppose it's just a bit of potential-druid/mythical-creature/deity + ND/Druid solidarity thing going on here. I guess there isn't much point in hiding how out-of-the-norm you are when the other person also is that way, but the fact that Steve doesn't wish to uphold that facade with Brent, despite being an individual who normally seems to wish to uphold all kinds of social norms -based on his demeanor and supposed "disdain" for Brent-, it could be said that there's something profoundly personal about their supposedly impersonal rivalry. I think he likes his audacity, and refuses to allow Brent to see anything other than his "truer" facade self. I suppose that maybe after pretending to be his "ideal" persona like that for so long, he perhaps finds the idea of Brent's more "unnaceptable" imperfection to be kind of irresistible, and can't help but let his guard down a bit with him in an unspoken way that Brent wouldn't really point out because he's Brent? Brent is quite daring in how he speaks to Steve, after all, but he doesn't comment on this at all.

Not only that but once again the floating itself. The fact that it was the later update really does raise eyebrows.

Sorry to bring up this picture again, but look at him. I mean really look. Does this look normal either to you? Based on test-runs I did myself, no, probably not. He looks like a dead shrimp with that pose. Perhaps this version really was the error, and the later one the correction. Lowry here looks like he's about to slip right off his chair and fall on his ass. But the later one? Truly more confident, and his hands do not phase through his knees...I think. He's revealing himself a bit more to his tense rival, and he knows it.

I feel like their rivalry is actually a lot more tension than fighting and they don't admit it. Does Brent have something towards Steve? Maybe, it could also be one-sided, but either way this pair does make you question the heterosexuality orientation of more than one party, which is really saying something when one is wearing purple and gayly floating above a chair. Note that funnily enough, despite their banter, Steve never once calls Brent anything other than Halligan, while Brent actually does call him Steve twice in the game, yes, I checked, I'm completely certain. Enjoy that nugget of information.

They get into really heated arguments. But it is pretty peculiar that for all his threats, Steve is surprisingly lenient towards Brent. Although there are definetely lines where he sounds like he wishes to reach out of his throat and puil a very Brent move on him (by sustained choking), he never lays a single hand on him, in a bizarre act of respect and, something repressed perhaps? It makes sense that he wouldn't want trouble. But a little bit of violence, or even a grab by the collar would be acceptable in the department, presumably. Steve never stops just playing with his thumbs, almost nervously, the entire time. Does he entertain himself like this when he's angry, or is this actually something that happens when he sees Brent? We cannot know, because our only point of reference is Brent himself, and what he sees, so this question is most intriguing. Does he perhaps know that if he were to reach out and touch Brent for even a moment, he wouldn't be able to help himself? Can you blame Steve? Of course not; there's a reason one of my first MOTD posts ever was Halligan's eyelashes-

Whether or not that's an agreement or something Steve himself has decided, there seems to be a mutual understanding that they're not meant to go too far, or even touch each other. Even when there's venom in their voices, it's very clear that at all times at least one of them is partly enjoying the interaction. Even at his wits end, Steve never actively attempts to stop Brent from entering his office, much less interacting with him, or talking to him. If you do get on his nerves enough, he stops letting you ask him things, but he not once stands up to stop Brent. He remains a completely passive observer and you're free to do what you please otherwise. For all of the verbal agression, there is very little action involved, and everything else is a lot subtler. Even one of the milder actions he could've taken against Brent, would have been to take the scissors back from him. Brent has coat pockets and little else, at least canonically since he of course has videogame-character-with-infinite-space-on-their-persona-syndrome. He knows that Brent has his scissors in one of those pockets. But he makes zero moves to get them back, despite his earlier determination to "not lose anything to anyone again, especially not to [Brent]" (perhaps he realizes it's futile, for he has already lost here, against Brent, all the time. Despite his toxic "masculine" facade, he can't help who he is, and this goes unspoken). He just asks him what else he wants, and then tells him to get out, again, just spoken word. Brent is free to stay if he pleases.

This gets interesting when you consider an inocous detail in the game that no one knows how to answer: The fan. Why can you, as Brent, turn on the fan? Perhaps the detail of the fan, even, was meant to represent how this is their dynamic. Steve won't even comment on it, won't even care, because despite everything, he's not as bothered by this as he pretends he is. And perhaps even enjoys someone actually treating him this way for once, with dominance instead of fear. He finds Brent a bit threatening, and he enjoys it. Turning on the fan could disturb his work. It could make his papers go everywhere. This game takes place in the fall. It's presumably a bit chilly, so it could also cause Steve some discomfort, assuming he's not warm, and giving that they don't appear to have telepathic communication (unless they do), I highly doubt that Brent is aware of his current bodily temperature unless he supposes his presence is rising it. That or given that Brent is aware that Steve is floating, he is hoping that if he turns on the fan he will float away from the Yard, but that's neither here nor there.

Whatever their relationship is? ...It is definitely not just your standard rivalry. It is ADVANCED. There is something going on here. I don't know what it is, or what the hell any of this answered, to be honest.

...I'm gonna go get some coffee.

[seokiloquy]

Three’s a Crowded Couch - Oikawa & Kageyama

Au: Regular

Requested

Tags/Warnings: Time Skip spoilers(ish), “established relationship” (never labelled (not like I really ever do), interpret it however you see fit), fluff

Word Count: 1.1k+

“Come on. You can’t leave on your own. He’s not even here yet.” Huffing, you grabbed the back of the volleyball player’s collar, tugging him back to your side as he tried to walk away.

He choked, “I don’t want to wait for that selfish bastard!” 

“What are you gonna do? Run home? No way. Now, just wait a bit longer. He’ll be here any minute.”

The black-haired man slumped next to you, bottom lip jutting out as he kicked the smooth floor with the toe of his shoe.

People began pouring through the glass doors, luggage following them. A few fell into the arms of friends and family that waited while others walked by, covering their mouths as they yawned.

Kageyama pulled your sleeve and dragged you to stand in front of him as the crowd became a bit larger. His arms came to fall over your shoulders, tucking you comfortably into a backwards hug. 

He yawned.

"Was practice hard today?"

His thumbs brushed your shoulder. "As hard as it normally is," he said softly.

"Hmm, maybe it's just the nerves. Are you excited to see him again?"

“No way!” Strangers turned their heads at his outburst, chuckling at his scrunched nose and downturned lips.

Lifting your hand, you pinched the bridge of his nose, getting the muscles to relax beneath your fingertips. You snorted, “Liar.”

Just as you spun your head to look forward and lowered your hands with a brush against Kageyama’s shoulder, a loud and proud voice called over the busy chatter of the airport from the glass door exits. “Yahoo! My crowning jewels, royals upon the thrones.” Brown hair bouncing happily, the man jogged over. Behind him were two suitcases, behind him until he threw them forward, letting them roll to a stop on either side of you and Kageyama. 

“Tooru!”

“Tobio! (Y/N)!” The man cheered, wrapping his arms around both of your forms and tightening his grip as much as possible. Which effectively squeezed out all the air in your lungs as you were sandwiched between two of some of the broadest chests in volleyball.

Hearing your broken wheezes, both men let their arms fall, yawning at the same time in the process. Watching Kageyama bicker with the older man about mimicking him —which only made Oikawa do it purposefully— you smiled and grabbed the pale blue suitcases, letting the two continue to argue playfully as you led them to your car.

“Hey! You don’t have to carry those, we can handle it.” Oikawa got away from the childish banter, jogging up to your left and taking the suitcase from your hand.

“Give me the other one.” Kageyama didn’t offer to help, instead, taking hold of your wrist and sliding the plastic handle of the other suitcase out of your grip.

You stomped the tiled floor, watching the two continue to walk ahead of you before running to catch up. “You both are very tired, let me do this.”

They both responded negatively, only leaving you to carry Oikawa’s carry-on backpack. You wanted to take at least the literal weight off of Oikawa’s shoulders if you couldn’t drag the rolling ones.

Once at your car, the two placed the suitcases on the back of the trunk. Oikawa paused though, staring at the vehicle before opening the side door. “New car?”  Oikawa took the passenger seat, leaving a Kageyama grumpy, mad over behind dethroned from his usual spot.

Kageyama answered as he and you slid into your seats. “Ya, the last one finally broke down last week. But that’s a perk of company cars.”

While both Kageyama and Oikawa were slotted for the Japan and Argentina national teams, respectively, for the Olympics (only needing to join their teammates every 4 years or so), they usually were with their league teams. Similarly, you worked with the Olympic team during the on-season, but fully —to both Kageyama’s and Oikawa’s distaste (mostly Tobio’s)— spent your time working as, the one and only, Hinata Shoyo’s personal trainer in the V League and Olympic setting.

“I got to carry a lot of equipment for Shoyo alone, added to the fact that Tobio can’t drive.”

Oikawa laughed reaching backwards to ruffle the younger man’s straight hair like he was a child. Kageyama nearly bit his hand off, only making the brunette laugh harder.

Oikawa pointed out new buildings and shops as you drove through the city. You smiled at the almost childlike wonder for seeing a city he hasn’t set foot in for a couple of months. In the rearview mirror, you could see the small ghost of a smile on Kageyama’s lips as he listened and watched Oikawa chatter on.

Once home, Kageyama carried the suitcases away from the main hall. You took the opportunity to turn on the tv as Oikawa fell lax into your lap on the couch, head resting on top of your stomach and hand gently against the fabric over your thigh. He twisted around as Kageyma returned, facing the tv and shifted back on the couch to make room for you to move towards the centre and for Kageyama to sit behind you.

With Kageyama at your back, legs spread out on either side of you, and Oikawa back between your knees, head on your stomach, you switched to the bookmarked channel that played sci-fi, courtesy of Oikawa return home from Argentina (where he would soon return, not that it mattered with the number of trips the three of you managed to plan around busy schedules). Said brunette hummed, nuzzling into your stomach as the opening theme played.

You leaned back against Kageyama, head against his shoulder. His eyes shut as he yawned again, audibly, which made Oikawa follow soon after. You chuckled, nudging your head against the younger man’s chin which he responded to by fully resting his cheek on your hairline. Your fingers tangled with Oikawa’s hair brushing and knotting the strands all at once.  

It didn’t take long for you to notice the slow breathing of the two. It was only late evening, but jetlag and exercise can wear people out, even the greatest of athletes. A gentle chuckle escaped you as you departed between carrying, maybe more so dragging, the dead weight of the two to bed, or just enjoying the warmth you had now and falling asleep with them along the length of the couch.

The decision was made for you though, for as you tried to stand, both pairs of hands tightened their holds, followed by a set of gentle rumbling hums as you settled back into place.

“Damn you two,” you whispered, unable to stop the grin and warmth that built in your chest. With no complaints, you got comfortable in their holds and dozed off with the whirring sound of spaceships in the background.

Short and Sweet, I’m trying to speedrun writing a bit cause One Piece has taken a hold of me and I can’t escape. (Sabo is my favourite, and that’s saying something, I never have favourites I love them all)

If you read Behind the Scenes, don’t read the last 15 pages, spare yourself - Bacon

So soft ~~~ And yes, about the Behind the Scenes...Bacon told me what happened and you really don’t want to know….. Oh...and my exams are slowly coming within the next two weeks, but after that, expect more regular posting - Kiwi

Posted: 11/04/2021

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: save file 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words

𝐚𝐧: itaru event? itaru fic! me loving fake dating + direct af titles? nothing changed~ sequencing of events might be weird, oops~

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 2 LOADED

Itaru’s not the least bit surprised at the sight of your wrinkled nose; neither is he shocked at the crease that formed between your brows nor the narrowing of your eyes. It must be a lot to take in, truly, but it had to be done.

“Chigasaki-kun,” you said, immediately trailing off as though you couldn’t convey the rest of your thoughts. That was fine, he thought, he can wait for his SP to fill up for 100 minutes so surely he can wait a couple more minutes for your response.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but maybe he needs to explain a bit more? He doesn’t mind too much, he was putting you on the spot, after all.

“I know it’s sudden,” Itaru said apologetically, “but I need you. You’re the only one who can—“

“Chigasaki-kun,” you repeated, sounding firmer this time around. At this point, Itaru noticed that your eyes never left the cafe table that separated the two of you, or rather what laid right smack in the centre of it. As soon as he slid it towards you, your eyes had gone from wide and surprised to squinting, almost as though it had offended you.

He was so focused on your line of sight that he failed to notice the sudden rush of red that raced across your cheeks. After a moment of silence, you let out a deep breath.

“Why the fuck did you just give me a replica of Byleth’s ring from Fire Emblem?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he dug through his pocket to bring out another ring, the exact same design, “I have another one.”

■■■■■■■■□□□□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

“Hey, you made it! Thanks for coming, Chigasaki-sa—“ as he took in the sight of your locked hands, his co-worker let out a comically loud gasp, before trying and failing to cover it up with an awkward cough.

Itaru’s not stupid, at the very least he’s definitely not blind or deaf. Besides the gracious host, he can tell everyone is shocked and staring. They’re not even trying to be discrete about it anymore.

The people from his department had been gossiping for all of last week, creating speculations on his love life. The theories had a lot of exaggeration, a lot of denial.

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, him reciprocating to reassure you.

Envy. Judgement.

Still, as he glanced at your face to check for any sign of discomfort only to find a poised smile, he was once again reminded by your strength and fortitude. He always admired that from you, and it was always so enthralling to see that side of you in action.

■■■■■■■■■■■■□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 1 LOADED

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Itaru let out a quiet hum, yet refusing to answer immediately. Though he’d prefer to sit out of most gatherings, he particularly disliked going to non-essential get-togethers where the only real purpose was for his co-workers to eat and drink less restrained as they would with the higher-ups around.

Normally he would have some excuse conjured up, maybe even pretend to check his phone calendar and reject the invite apologetically. However, he had already skipped out three times, consecutively.

He already breached the three strikes and you’re out rule, and he’s not so sure risking going for four would be the smartest play for his reputation… but it probably wouldn’t hurt to save game and set aside his decision making for later.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. I just need to check with someone first,” he said, thinking back to the director and the rest of spring troupe. Would any of them give him an excuse he has yet to use?

“Ahh, feel free to bring your sister then!” the man paused, a small smirk appearing as his eyebrows waggled. “Unless you wanna bring, you know, a friend.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 2 LOADED

“You just don’t want to suffer alone,” you said, using your fork to prod at the meal he treated you to. Surely a one time gathering wasn’t all there is to it? Chigasaki Itaru, who always kept his life outside work private, suddenly wanting people to know he had a significant other?

Even though he didn’t?

“I’ve been to those— I know they suck,” you continued, your eyes darting away from the silver band to look at him properly, “will this even benefit you?”

“It’ll probably be annoying at first,” he replied, keeping eye contact to let you know how serious he was, “dealing with everyone’s questions, but they’ll eventually just accept it and stop bothering me.”

“What about me?”

“You work somewhere else— they won’t get the chance to bother you,” he pointed out, propping his elbow on the table as he rest his cheek on his knuckles. He continued seeing as you stayed silent, “plus, don’t you have anyone bothering you about your lack of a love life?”

In any other instance, you probably would have made a remark about him being too dedicated to his waifus to date as well, but you could only grimace as you recalled the upcoming family reunion. If your aunts teased you again for not being in a relationship… if your mom kept insisting that you were just hiding a secret boyfriend to delude herself…

“Fine, but in exchange—“

Itaru let out a chuckle, “so the matching rings aren’t enough? I’ll have you know, they’re Class A replicas.”

You snorted, “stop, stop! I’m being serious here!” you said, lightly kicking his feet from beneath the table. When he moved to retaliate, you hastily pushed your feet beneath your chair.

“Oi—“

“Just kidding, just kidding!“ he said, raising his hands up in surrender, “so, how can I help you?”

“… you up for a family reunion lunch on Sunday?”

■■■■□□□□□□□□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 3 LOADED

“So, like, do we need to prepare any— dude, dude, dude what the…? This part of your island is—” Even without heading over to where you were, he immediately knew which area you were cackling about.

“That’s the nature dump! Obviously not gonna terraform it yet?” Itaru replied, “I need a place to place all the normie flowers?”

He heard you scoff, your animal crossing character running up to his and hitting him with a net.

“Not that dump, dummy! Why are there toilets? The fences— toilets—“ you trailed off, unable to help yourself from bursting back into laughter. He instinctively laughed alongside you, knowing the monstrosity you were talking about.

“What kind of idiot makes a pathway out of toilets?”

“Hey! They create a cool effect when you walk past it!” he said, defending himself as your character hit his on the head again, “kind of like a clam opening up—“

“It’s a toilet! Not a clam!”

“Ya? Well I, Taruchi, am a resident of Urinetown, subtitle: actually an island and not a town,” Itaru said, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Before you come from me, Urinetown is a musical about capitalism. What’s your excuse, Pen Island?”

You gasped, obviously fake but dramatic enough to continue your banter “I’ll have you know, the actual name is Pen Isles? Also, you named our Stardew Valley farm—“ you paused, as though realising something, “wait, wasn’t I going to ask you something?”

“… pfft, GJ.”

■■■■■■■■■□□□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

Itaru watched you introduce yourself to the rest of the room, your words polite but brimming with a confidence that was rare to see from his friend turned pretend s/o… or at least, that was what he initially thought.

Maybe this side of you just so happened to be particularly evident tonight, ringing throughout your voice and exhibited by your body language; that didn’t mean it was hidden before this instance.

There was a certain charm to you. Always been, but he never really acknowledged it. It was the little things, like how you were never hesitant about adding to his commentary when you two played Co-Op, or the playfulness you showed from time to time, or your genuineness around him— kind, but not taking bullshit from him or anyone.

If he was reading the room right, he can’t blame them for being even a little bit enthralled with you.

Even if it didn’t exactly sit right with him.

“I didn’t know Chigasaki-kun was dating someone!” a brave soul piped up from the sidelines, probably vocalising what everyone else was holding back from saying. Huh, wasn’t she one of the people who fiercely denied the rumour that he was in a relationship?

He doesn’t miss the way the corners of your lips quirked downwards for a split second, before lifting back upwards as though it never happened.

“Well, Itaru can be a bit private,” you replied, a muffled but silvery giggle escaping escaping your lips, “though I suppose I’m a bit of the same? Might be why we’re compatible.”

The woman who asked flushed slightly, and he was sure it wasn’t from any alcohol consumed. Even still, he found himself mirroring the pink hue.

Itaru?

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 3 LOADED

“Itaru,” he repeated to you for the third time tonight.

“Shoot, sorry,” you apologised, making your animal crossing character portray your shock at your slip-up again. Lmao, that was cute. “Damn… it’s weird going from Chigasaki-kun to just Itaru.”

It was his turn to hit your character with a net.

“Taruchi isn’t that far from Itaru, and you call me that all the time,” he stated, snorting at the little huff that was somehow still audible on call.

“Calling you your IGN is way different though?” you protested, “I can’t just call you that in public?”

“Shame it might expose me irl,” he sighed in disappointment, “it would have been cute to have my gamer s/o go ‘uwu Taruchi, fighto!’”

“Hahhh? Was it ever cute any time I called you Taruchi?” you asked, incredulousness present in your tone as you proceeded to mock him, “uwu, Taruchi, fighto!… there, was that cute at all?”

Itaru’s hand slid up to cover his face, his growing smile lifting his cheeks upward. You were clearly just joking around, but, well, “who knows? Maybe if you said ‘Taruchi-sama, ganbatte! I’d be able to—“

“Itaru!” you interrupted, immediately making the human equivalent noise of a keyboard smash, your little avatar running around in circles as he imagined what expression your face had right now.

Amidst his unrestrained laughter, he managed to squeeze in his next sentence in parts. “You— you finally said it! Otsu~”

■■■■■■■□□□□□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

You had only called him ‘Itaru’ that one time, every other time being ‘Taruchi’ in private or ‘Itaru-kun’ in public. Still, hearing you say his name in person instead of on the phone made it feel like the first time again.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get that much time to dwell on it. Someone had lead you two to sit somewhere, surrounded by more of his polite and friendlier coworkers. Exchanging pleasantries with them was easy enough, as was answering questions about your relationship.

They’ve had multiple test runs after all. There was no way they were messing up any details, there was no room or possibility of either of them even fumbling.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been friends since university,” you replied, something that was actually true, “it took years for me to even confess! I’m just glad Itaru accepted,” you gave him a purposeful glance, your bashful expression nearly enough to lead him to believe that you really did have a crush on him all this time.

“So you two have been together since—?”

“After my graduation,” Itaru supplied helpfully, “so it’s been a few years.”

“That’s so sweet! You know,” the woman in front of you lowered her voice, and you leaned in a little closer to listen in, “a lot of us were wondering if Chigasaki was dating anyone after we saw his ring. I thought it was just a fashion statement, but now I know it’s the real deal!”

She eyed the silver band on your ring finger, one that completely matched his.

“The rings are beautiful! The design is completely unique,” another person commented. Itaru felt your ring finger loop around his own, and the two of you turned to look at each other, sharing an amused grin.

If only they knew it was actually really well-done game merch.

■■■■■■■■■□□□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 2 LOADED

“What’s the point of the rings, though?” you asked, curious of just how far Itaru was taking this plan anyway.

“Do you not like it?” Itaru asked. Undeniably, he would be a bit upset if you ended up not liking the ring. After all, he bought it because—

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely, carefully picking up the ring, “just surprised you already had rings on hand?”

He chuckled apprehensively, “I was going to save it as a friendship anniversary gift,” he explained, “I still feel a little guilty I didn’t get you anything last year.”

“You don’t have to get me anything anyway,” you said reassuringly, “but I appreciate it.”

He watched you slip the ring on your left ring finger, mouth opening up to apologise as he saw how loose the ring was on you, about to offer to have it resized immediately before you interrupted with quiet laughter.

“It’s a bit awkward right now, but I love it.”

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

The get-together was going really well, surprisingly. He still would have preferred to be in the comfort of his room, but your presence just made everything so much easier. Even the questions people threw at the two of you weren’t so bothersome, dodging the more nosy people and sticking with anything general.

It had somehow become a game between the two of you. It was like an act off, almost, of who could give the more impressive or heart fluttering statement. Whether it was for the sake of your audience or to just affect each other remains unsaid.

“What do you like about Itaru?”

You looked away from him, closing your eyes as though you were thinking. To be fair, anything real personality or gaming related was out of bounds. Would you cater your response to his work persona, or—

“Everything!”

He nearly choked on air, trying to ignore the urge to clutch at his heart.

“That’s no fair, give something more specific!”

“I do like everything about Itaru, though?” you said with a cute pout, “but I guess I like his kindness the most. He’s always so thoughtful and considerate. He’s a busy man, but he always finds the time to help me out when I need it.”

Everyone cooed at the two of them, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that when he could only cling onto the words that started to sound more and more real as the night went by.

Out of context, everything you said could be interpreted as you just being friendly, but there was something in the way you pronounced his name and the expression on your face as you talked about him that was… different.

“What about you, Chigasaki?”

Escaping from his thoughts, his mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, but the words refused to spill from his lips.

Was there a way to describe how captivated he was at your little quirks, from the random filler noises you’d make on call or text when words failed you, to the literal quirk of the corner of your lips as you shifted expressions.

Was there a way express his appreciation for sticking by him for years, regardless of his hidden side? Was there a way to express his gratefulness for the laughter rendered and the tears wiped off by you; the smile blooming on his face as he imitated your own subconsciously?

This was the one thing he couldn’t have a manual or guide to study, so he could only hope that he went with the right dialogue choice.

“Everything too, actually.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□  AUTOSAVING AUTOSAVE SUCCESSFUL!

The drive back home was quiet. He was exhausted, and he could tell you were too, but as he neared your street his driving got slower and slower, almost unmoving. From the corner of his eye, he saw you fiddle with your ring, twisting it around your fourth finger before pulling it off completely.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said out loud, yet you didn’t make a move to reattach your seatbelt.

“Itaru.”

Oh, wow. If hearing it a while ago trumped hearing it over call, then hearing you murmur his name in private, with just the two of you present, was…

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you continued, “all throughout the whole get-together, actually. Are you okay?”

When everything about this, about you simultaneously felt so new yet so familiar to him, how could he possibly convey his feelings? His admiration, no, his love for you?

He took the ring from your grasp, and before you could question what was up, he had grabbed your hand as well. With a serendipitous conscientiousness, he slid the ring back onto your ring finger, admiring your rosy glow that managed to be visible even with how dark out it was outside.

“The things you said a while ago,” he began, some hesitance still remaining as his thumb glided over your ring, “sounded really convincing.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. For a few seconds the both of you kept silent, until you finally broke it off, “maybe I wasn’t lying in the first place.”

He stiffened, pausing his previous ministrations as you continued, “… were you?”

Looking back at the past week, he almost laughed. Other than already being in a relationship, was anything between the two of you ever a lie to begin with?

“I wasn’t, either,” he replied. Taking in a deep breath, your gaze finally locked with his, he took the next step.

“If… if I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand, help you fight your battles, and shield you from attacks… would you have me?”

want to order again?

[taeswurld]

Ace VIII [Stinky]

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

genre: humor, romance

TW: violence, cursing, angst, fluff

Summary:

Shifting into My Hero was a total mistake, all those tiktoks you watched on a daily about shifting somehow convinced your brain to take part. Now the question is how to wake up, and most importantly, DON’T GET ATTACHED TO STUPID DRAWINGS!

A/N:

Yuhhhhh I KNOW IT’S LATE DON’T GET MAD AT ME, but i made a new chapter. Reblog and like for clear skin hotties!

{ACE MASTERLIST}

“Hey guys, thanks.”

All three boys, including the dog, turned their heads to you, simultaneously tilting their heads. 

“For what?” Midoriya asked. 

“I don’t know if I’m going to wake up in the morning forgetting everyday about this day and like what happened,” you began. “But I wanna say thanks for making me really comfortable and sticking with me throughout the day.” You said, giving them the sweetest smile you could muster. 

You really did have a lot to be grateful for. You got shifted in a world where everyone helped you figure things out as patiently as possible. You could’ve shifted into an anime where everyone hates each other, or worse, you could’ve shifted into AOT, and got your ass eat by naked, ugly, weirdly built humans. 

“Tch, don’t mention it dumbass. We were just doing our jobs.” Bakugou said grumpily, holding a small, barley-there blush on his cheeks. 

“We’ll miss you, Y/N. This version of you is way more expressive and, well how do I say this,-” Todoroki stopped to think.

“Bitchy?” Bakugou finished with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

“I was gonna say open, but that works too.” Todoroki said with a grin on his face. 

“Hey! I thought you were my friend Todo!” You pouted. 

“And what the fuck am I? Chopped liver?” Bakugou said, offended you didn't even care about his comment. 

“I don’t really give a shit about your opinion. You’re like, rude.” You said, with a small sneer on your face. 

Bakugou just clicked his tongue and looked away. 

To be quite honest, he didn’t know what to say. Old you was so calm and quiet, but now you’re showing that spunk he always knew was inside of you. Not that he didn’t miss the less expressive you, but it was always so hard to come out of your shell. And now, you’re engaging in banter with stupid Deku and Half-and-Half. 

He was getting a little jealous to be quite honest with himself. 

Usually, this side of you was always so reserved, only showing when he would pick small, meaningless fights with you during training, and then again when you two were locked in his room, murmuring sweet nothings and jokes into each other’s ears, sneaking small kisses every now and then. 

It absolutely killed him to see you like this. You weren’t by his side, holding onto his shirt, having your stupid mutt trail behind you two. Cuddling in each other’s arms during days when the class went out, watch sappy Disney movies with Hiro laying in between you two. 

And it utterly killed him every time he saw a small blush on your cheeks after engaging in jokes with Midoriya and Todoroki. 

But he never looked long enough to see you were slightly blushing at his words too.

He wishes you would hurry up and remember all your memories with him so his nightmare could end. 

The nightmare of not belonging to each other anymore. 

“Hey, you good dude?” Midoriya said, giving Bakugou a small shove. 

He knew of the small relationship you two had, after accidentally catching Bakugou slipping and saying your pet names, or sneaking in a forehead kiss before a huge battle. The guy was way more observant than what people credited him for. 

“Yeah shitty nerd, I’m good. Not my place to tell her what to do. Hopefully this shit passes by morning.” He whispered back, not wanting you getting curious and overhearing. 

“Hey, everything’s gonna be good. Our Y/N will be back, and hopefully shit will go back to normal. Or as normal as shit gets,” Midoriya said with a small smile growing on his face, trying to reassure his friend as much as he could. 

To be honest, he was also quite worried too. 

All throughout the day, you kept giving Kacchan looks of annoyance and sometimes even hatred, a complete 180 of your relationship before. But honestly, your behavior has been on edge for a few days now, and before today, he doesn’t think you’ve been on speaking terms with Kacchan for at least 2 days before your accident. 

He knows if they don’t figure something out to get you to remember all your memories with Kacchan, shit could get twisted really fast. The worst part is, that the only way to remember, is if Kacchan stops being such a little bitch and tells you everything.

Which, unfortunately for the three of you, probably won't happen any time soon due to this man having the emotional strength of a pea. 

“Hey guys, I’m gonna go get started on that shower, I need to clean up before I stink up the dorms” Midoriya said, sniffing his shirt, giving a small grimace at the smell, parting from the group.

“Me too, shoutout my name is you guys need anything. Especially you, Y/N.” Todoroki said, walking away to go get cleaned up. 

Another thing, everyone knows you are one, if not, THE prettiest girl in the class. This doesn't go unnoticed by your classmates, especially the boys. Almost everyone’s asked you out at least one, either jokingly or seriously. Having a super quirk doesn’t exactly diffuse the situation, if anything, people are even more attracted to you.

Bakugou was always worried you would leave him for someone else, whether that be someone else in your class, or some extra in another class. You would always reassure him you would never and that you only have eyes from him, but with your relationship being pretty much nonexistent at this point, his insecurity levels are through the roof. 

Doesn't help that Todoroki is one of the boys who find you attractive. Midoriya did too, at one point, but the shitty nerd knew better and instantly backed off when he found out you two were an item. 

“She won't, don't worry,” Bakugou growled at Todoroki. “Go take a stupid shower too, idiot. You stink.” He said turning to you with a bit less malice in his voice.

“Can you stop calling me mean nicknames and use names that won’t feed onto my insecurities.” You reprimanded, annoyed he kept giving you a shitty attitude.

“Alright, sweetheart,” He smirked. “Will the princess be a good girl and take a shower?” He said in raspy, deep voice. 

After scowling and flipping him off, you departed with a ‘fuck you’ and went to wash up. 

With a victorious smirk on his face, knowing you probably got a little flustered from his words, he looked down to see Hiro staring up at him. 

“I’m not calling you cute shitty nicknames. You're fucking ugly.” He said, looking down at your furry companion. 

Giving a small growl at Bakugou’s words, Hiro walked away to join you. 

“Shitty dog,” he said, with a small smile on his face. 

TAGLIST :

 lanaxians-2 

soft-levi-girl-

 blogladymidnight77

[bauslut]

bittersweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader 

word count: 1.4k

warnings: allusions to angst, tension, some banter, no happy endings with this sadly

a/n: this was a request from @forgottenword & it is a sequel to my hotch fic seventeen days which is linked here if you would like to re-read it or if you’ve never read it before! i really loved this one, & i hope you guys do too! :))

prompt: “so let's face it this was never what you wanted.”

seventeen days later...

the shrill ding of the elevator pierces through the air, ringing in your ears. sucking in a sharp breath, you take a step forward, shuddering in your blazer. 

pairs of eyes fall on you, a slim blonde approaches, a broad smile plastering her features, “good morning! you must be agent (y/l/n).”

“indeed,” you nod, mustering a feeble grin as you stick your hand out, “and you are?”

“oh i’m agent jareau, the media liaison for the team,” an airy chuckle flows from her lips, blonde locks bouncing, “but you can just call me jj.”

“good morning jj,” the feeble widens into a beam, your teeth flashing, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“are you excited to be back at the bau?” she arches an inquisitive brow, handing you a plain manila folder, “this is some final paperwork for your transfer. once you sign where it’s needed, just take it to hotch’s office and he’ll finish it from there.”

“o-oh,” you stammer, a blush spreading through your cheeks, “um, thank you.”

“if you’re nervous about the big bad wolf, don’t be. he’s harmless,” a smooth voice cuts in, “he might be a little cold in the beginning, but he’ll warm up to you.”

“i am well aware of the antics of the big bad wolf,” you snort, rolling your eyes as another figure emerges in your peripheral, his purple v-neck a rich, vivid hue in the early morning light. 

“oh, really?” he folds his arm across his chest, prompting you to retaliate, “how do you know hotch then?”

“we used to work together,” another voice chimes in, “morgan, i suggest that you leave the newbie alone. this poor agent already overwhelmed and firing off question after question isn’t going to help one bit.”

“it’s nice to see you again dave,” tucking the manila folder against your chest, you extend an arm, firmly grasping his hand, “it’s been a few years, hasn’t it?”

“oh yeah,” david rossi chuckles, eyes glimmering with amusement, “it’s been a little too quiet without you.”

“expect lots of catching up then,” you shoot him a wink, “jj, are you able to show me where my desk is?”

“of course!” she chirps, “i’m sure you’ll meet the rest of the team throughout the day. luckily, we haven’t been invited to a case yet, so you can settle in and relax for a few minutes.”

“sounds good to me,” carefully, you weave in between morgan and rossi, following the blonde as she strolls over to an empty desk, the sterile lights bouncing off the beige surface.

“this is your desk,” jj clears her throat, “if there’s anything else you need, or any other questions you have, do not hesitate to speak up. i’m here to help make this as smooth of a transition for you as possible. hotch even requested that i help you out in every way i can.”

you nearly choke on your own spit, a coughing fit racking your body, “h-hotch a-asked th-that you..?”

“yup.” she nods, “are you all right? you need a cup of water or anything?”

“i’m fine,” you sputter, “dry cough.”

jj exhales, arms dropping to her sides, “well, hotch asked that you complete that paperwork as soon as possible. when you’re finished, knock on his door. he didn’t mention any important meetings or anything, so you should be okay to interrupt.”

“thank you,” you mumble, your cheeks practically burning. 

the mere mention of his name was enough to get you riled up, crimson blush tainting your cheeks. 

and the fact that you were about to face him? alone? your knees buckled at the thought, a torrent of anxiety flurrying through your head, palms clamming up. 

sliding into the chair, a hand gravitates to your temple as you flip open the folder, scanning through the text, pen in hand. scrawling in the remaining blanks, you answered a few questions, initialing here and there, and then finalized it all with your signature. 

only a few minutes had passed since jj departed from your station, leaving your heart thudding in your chest, racing as you rose to your feet, nearly wobbling over to the looming office. 

the dark blinds were drawn, light peeking through the slits. trembling, your hand met with the door, rapping against the wood. 

“come in.”

the sound was oh so familiar, the same deep monotone rugged and gravelly, one of your favorite sounds. yet, it so distant, cold and unforgiving.

letting out a shaky breath, you took a step forward, a rush of cool air piercing through your clothes, sending goosebumps littering your arms, the hair rising. 

aaron hotchner sits at his desk, one knuckle resting against his temple, the other holding a pen in his grasp, thumbing through paperwork. your manila folder shakes as your hand trembles, placing it on the edge of his massive desk. 

“h-here.”

with a click on his tongue, his head tilts upwards, the warm mocha depths you were once familiar with now a hardened obsidian hue, thick brows drawn together. he clears his throat, accepting the manila folder.

“so let's face it. this was never what you wanted.”

chewing on your lower lip, you shift in place, smoothing out your palms on your slacks, “it wasn’t like i was given the choice. strauss was filling in open slots in departments.”

“it appears she was,” he tuts, shaking his head, “it appears you got the memo from jj.”

“yup,” you bite back the words rising like bile in your throat, threatening to spill out, “a lot has changed, aaron.”

at the mere sound of his name, his first name, aaron stiffens, the flint in his gaze hardening, “i would have to agree with you. a lot has changed. however, i am not going to let frivolous events of the past affect my performance on the job. we were just children back then, (y/n), some star-crossed lovers with visions of grandeur. we’re adults now. and we have duties to fulfill. now, are we done here or are you going to stare blankly at me while i work? i believe that jj a few more things for you to complete.”

tears well up in your eyes, pooling at the lids, any remaining color draining from your face, “oh, right. i’m sorry, sir.”

“do you mind closing the door on the way out?” 

“will do,” you manage to whisper, nearly scampering out of the room. 

the moment you were within a manageable distance away from the door, you came undone, the tears now streaming down your cheeks, splattering against your button-up. 

sniffling, you navigate through the maze of desks and printers, finding the nearest bathroom. slamming the door shut behind you, the tears explode into  gut-wrenching sobs, echoing off the walls. queries buzz in your mind, racking your thoughts. 

was this how he normally treated his team? had the horrors and terrors of the job make him a completely changed man? or, was he so unnerved by your presence that he lashed out? was he masking buried feelings? did he even have feelings? emotions? 

did he even love you? 

yet, there was one singular flash that caught your eye as you looked at him, taking in the sight of a stranger. 

of course, aaron still resembled the younger version of himself: thick, fluffy, jet black hair, fair complexion, deep, coffee brown eyes. the same lips etched in a permanent frown rather than a wide, radiant, grin. there were a few wrinkles lining his forehead and eyes, but that was expected. 

however, this man was not the aaron hotchner you remembered. 

he had morphed. 

morphed into a icy, expressionless, stone-cold man. 

a married man, no less. 

of course you noticed the golden band on his left ring finger. how could you miss it?

running a hand through your hair, you managed to scramble to your feet, inspecting the reflection in the mirror.

your first day at the new and improved bau was anything but fantastic. though, you reunited with an old friend, as well as a former lover.

 you were face-to-face with aaron hotchner, the man you were still hopelessly and undeniably in love with. the man you still held your broken, weary, heart in his hands. the man who still brought a smile to your face the moment you saw him. 

there was still the ever-looming fact that he could never be yours. that he was now married, intertwined with another woman. 

there was still the fact that you never knew what was running through aaron hotchner’s head when he saw you step into that office. was he elated? nervous? shocked that you went through with the transfer? what emotions did he harbor for you? 

you would never know. not then, not now. not ever. 

and god, did that leave such a bittersweet taste in your mouth. 

[shreddedleopard]

Ok but you know what would be super super delicious? An AU Rivahisu fic in a high school/college setting. Meek student pining over her cold, impassive professor, scandalous age difference, forbidden love yada yada. It's got Rivahisu written all over it

ANON.

So confession - I’m weak for AU professor Levi/student Hisu. 18+ though. My good friend Jay and I actually did a looooooong ass RP where Levi is Historia’s History Professor at University and she’s his star, goody-two-shoes student who secretly has a massive crush on him.

Things escalate when they head to Rome on an educational visit for a few days. 

CUE: Awkward, hopeful flirting by Historia, Levi being in complete denial that he wants to fuck his student’s brains out, Historia running into Levi shirtless post-shower in their accommodation, Levi getting hammered with Erwin (who’s on the trip too as Head of Department - hello Professor Smith) because he is stressed out of his mind trying to keep his thoughts and hands away from his student, drunk Levi then LITERALLY bumping into Historia in her tiny pyjamas and putting his hands on her, to both their utter embarrassment but inward elation, an argument over an Eros exhibit which is dressed up as academic but is totally really about the fact that he has the hots for her and she’s calling him a coward for not acting on it, leading to Historia misreading the situation and in the heat of the moment, leaning in and kissing him, then leading to momentary reciprocation followed by LIVID Levi. Then follows awkward dinner conversation amongst the other students and Professor Erwin and old friend/ museum curator Mike, who’s also part of the trip, NONE OF WHO have any idea what's gone on and are a loss as to why moody prof. Ackerman and his star student are taking shots at one another across the dinner table. End result is Historia deciding SCREW HIM and flirting with Eren instead, who’s been lusting after her for literally years. Cue jealous Levi who continues to hate himself for a) having an unprofessional crush on his student and b) not being able to give himself a shake and get over said crush OR have the balls to just act on it. Everyone goes to bed, (even Eren once Historia shoos him away) and it’s just them and the remainder of the wine from dinner, and Levi decides to apologise for being an ass. Historia asks why he kissed her back for a split second, Levi finally admits that he fancies her like FUCK but under no circumstances will he act on it for the sake of both their professional reps, but we aaallllll know how weak Levi is for her when she decides she's doing something. LOTTA SEXUAL TENSION. Historia is fiery and persuasive. Levi relents in one of the most SCREAM INDUCING MOMENTS I’ve ever had the pleasure of writing with another person, under the condition that it is a one time thing - they will sleep together, get rid of that tension, then go back to normal. HM YEAH OKAY SURE LEVI. He fucks her over the dining table while everyone else is asleep upstairs - starts off steamy, but by then by the end they’re both totally lost in each other and devastated that it has to be a one time thing ... and it goes on. and on. so much sneaking around, banter and hot steamy moments. Plus, they discover they both speak French, unlike everyone else on the trip (except Erwin) and there is lots of sniping at one another in French, as well as risqué talk in front of the others.

Honestly its the hottest thing I’ve ever written - Jay’s Levi in it is just PERFECTION. We keep meaning to re-write it as a proper fic.

I’m also 100% down for writing High-school Caste Queen Bee, snobbish Historia with bad boy Janitor Levi. I just need tiiiiiiime.

But Anon - if I was going to write anything next, something along these lines would be it WITHOUT DOUBT.

This answer went on but I am just so weak for that RP it killed me.

SR x

[inqorporeal]

Future Tense

It was rare, Theron mused, that things were so quiet that they had a moment to relax like this. The cantina was bustling, and all of the advisors and primary staff had been able to justify taking the evening off. Theron got a lot of shit for being a workaholic, and even now he could feel the niggling itch of a puzzle left unsolved. But it could wait. For the moment, there were more important things to worry about.

Sitting in the booth beside him, the Commander cradled their drink between their hands and leaned a little more into Theron's space, seeking permission.

It was a… weird dynamic between them. The Commander was Imperial, Theron was a Republic spy. Feelings should never have developed between them; but what had begun as an uneasy alliance had blossomed into a mutual respect and even admiration. By the time Theron ran into them on their way to rescue him from the Revanites, well….

You couldn't fake that look of relief in a person's eyes. They had stood up for him, defended him, and hadn't agreed with Lana about her willful negligence which had led to Theron's capture. Seven years later and he was still awed that anyone had successfully extracted an apology, however reluctant, from a Sith Lord on his behalf. 

When they'd first begun their association chasing rumours of Revanites, Theron had been worried that the two Imperials might try to extract Republic secrets from him; neither had asked more than he was willing to offer, and even though he'd felt incredibly lonely during that time, he had also felt at ease. Nobody was leaning over his shoulder for once Marcus, nor prying into his downtime activities Jonas, and the people he had to work with had encouraged him to put the datapad down in the evenings to share a drink or two and talk shit about members of the Dark Council. Theron had felt free enough to dump some of his (non-classified) dirt on certain Senators, to the amused delight of his partners in conspiracy-routing.

So when the Commander had asked about Satele, Theron may have spilled a bit of long-held bitterness. It wasn't really fair of him -- Satele wouldn't have wanted to let Darth Marr know Theron might be leverage on her (he would be; her distance in his youth aside, Satele did care). But… he'd been tired. The painkillers had been wearing off. Maintaining a semblance of professional decorum during that meeting had consumed his remaining energy, and his patience had largely taken a leave of absence.

The Commander -- his ally, swiftly sliding into territory that could have tentatively been friendship -- had expressed concern, support, bantered lightly and teased him, drawing his mind away from the pressing issues for a precious moment. When they'd kissed him, it had felt real, like Theron was appreciated and cared for, like they had seen the worst sides of him and found the whole package worth the risk.

They had been risking everything, stealing private moments when and where they could on Yavin IV, surrounded by military detachments from both sides who clearly didn't trust each other. If anyone who had cared had caught them together, Theron would have lost his job and possibly been brought up for an official inquiry; who knew what the Commander had risked. Knowing the Sith, probably interrogation and/or death.

Just for him, Theron, a Jedi washout, an intelligence analyst with no life outside his work and a long list of past relationships that had never survived his career for more than a couple of months. The knowledge had shaken him to his core then, and it still did now: that someone had looked at Theron and found him worth risking death for.

Of course it could have been a ruse, but the looks Lana had been giving them said otherwise. She pretended not to see anything and didn't utter even one word of teasing. If Marr and Satele found out about them, it wouldn't be from her.

Saying goodbye had been unexpectedly painful. In truth, Theron had allowed things to continue because he hadn't believed they would live long enough to see the end of it. So, it seemed, had the Commander. Who needs words? they'd whispered, and kissed him, soft and tender, gloved fingers weaving into his hair and pulling him close. Theron had started to speak, to say how sorry he was, and they'd pressed a fingertip to his lips, with a smile so gentle and sorrowful it damn near broke his heart. Message received: don't apologise for the inevitable.

Theron had spent a year denying that it still ate at him, denying that he thought of them every day, denying that the reason he'd stopped joining Jonas for nights out that ended with casual hook-ups had less to do with working hard to re-prove his loyalty and more to do with the fact that a certain Imperial loyalist had claimed Theron's heart and he didn't want a replacement. Hearing about what had happened to Marr's fleet, though, had blasted that denial right out of the sky. Theron had got back in touch with Lana, asking what happened; maybe she'd actually liked him, or maybe she'd just been in shock, but she gave him straight answers instead of telling him where to get off, and then wrapped it up with, They're not dead, Theron. I can feel them, still. I'll be in touch.

Now he knew why the Commander had been pissed enough to force Lana to apologise to him a year earlier. The thought of the Commander imprisoned somewhere while everyone assumed they were dead nearly destroyed Theron. He'd thrown out all the alcohol in his Coruscant apartment so he wouldn't give into the temptation, and the feeling of time being wasted on the comparative minutiae of his actual job scratched and scraped at the back of his brain. Jonas, perceptive bastard that he is, had noticed; he'd suggested burning off Theron's restlessness with a night out and got snapped at for his trouble.

Theron had -- eventually -- apologised for that, but not before Lana had commed him on the secret, massively encrypted frequency he'd devised. Theron had sent his apology to Jonas taped to the only bottle of booze he'd kept, the unopened bottle of Corellian brandy Jonas had given him to celebrate Theron's most recent promotion.

He had no illusions that he'd effectively sunk his fifteen-year career in the SIS when he'd packed up his essentials and bought a shuttle ticket to Nar Shaddaa under a pseudonym, using credits from one of his other pseudonymic accounts. It wasn't like his work mattered anymore, anyway. In the last few months since Zakuul's Eternal Fleet had come out of nowhere and effectively annexed the Republic, their department heads had played at pretending everything was fine and normal, while all signs pointed to the contrary. According to Lana, the Empire was in much the same state.

Theron had long since grown tired of sitting on his hands instead of actually doing something. He never had dealt with periods of inactivity well.

And now… now he sat in a cantina surrounded by people he by rights should never have become friends with, with his arm openly around the shoulders of a certain ex-Imperial whose faith and loyalty had been well and truly shattered. They'd looked terrible when Theron had first seen them upon his arrival at Odessen: too thin, too exhausted, moving like everything hurt.

It hadn't prevented them from hugging him tightly -- right there in front of everyone -- and murmuring, "You're a sight for sore eyes," the same greeting they had offered on Ziost six years earlier. The feelings were still there, stronger than ever, and Theron had accepted the knowledge that this was his life now. Their lives, now.

The Commander was doing better since Valkorion had taken a cryptic leave of absence; better appetite, less prone to waking up in the middle of the night cursing out someone Theron couldn't throw out of the room, able to focus on work without drifting off to glare at the corner of the room every few minutes. Force only knew how much hassle the creepy Sith ghost had been giving them. It was a relief to Theron, as well -- both of them had been uneasy about the idea of the Sith Emperor watching them in the privacy of their quarters.

"What do you plan to do?" Theron found himself asking. "When this is all over and things go back to normal, I mean," he added when everyone at the table looked at him.

The Commander frowned into their drink. "I'm not sure 'normal' is ever going to happen," they answered. “Too much has changed in the galaxy. Everyone has been forced to adjust and adapt."

Theron gestured to the cheerful crowd beyond the relative privacy of their table. "I mean… the Alliance. Are we all going to have to just… go home?"

The Commander looked thoughtful, then glanced at Lana. "In your professional estimation--"

"Hah," Lana snorted, but she was smiling.

"Shush, you. In your estimation, how many friendships and romantic entanglements have occurred since the Alliance established itself?"

"On Odessen?"

"Everywhere we have operations."

The Sith frowned for a moment. "Hundreds. Thousands."

"Mmhmm, and in your estimation, how many of those would be considered cross-faction?"

Theron could see where this was going but he remained quiet -- his specialty was external intelligence; Lana's was internal.

"Roughly two-thirds, if we're considering smugglers, pirates, and bounty hunters their own faction."

The Commander looked back out at the bar. "Infrastructure is nothing without the people who make it tick, and those little alliances mean something. Say we win. Say we beat Valkorion at his own game. Do you really think people will happily give up everything they've built over the last few years and go back to what we were doing before? No. The defection rate would be tremendous. We're all here because the people we wanted to trust in sat back and did nothing, chose to use the opportunity to enrich themselves politically rather than combining their strength and fighting back." They turned their glass on the table, watching the water ring smear. "I'm not going back. I can't. I can't believe in that anymore. And if there are others who also don't want to go back…? Then we'll figure something out together."

Theron looked over at Lana, who met his eyes and shook her head. She couldn't go back, either. "Then maybe we should start thinking about future organisation," she ventured. "I know you don't want to remain in control forever--"

The Commander scoffed and leaned further into Theron's side. "I'm only the Commander because you pushed for it. Our Zakuul allies want me to sit on the Eternal Throne. I can guess why -- they think I'm Valkorion's next incarnation -- and I don't want that. Zakuul can figure its own shit out. But if we settle anywhere else, either the Republic, the Empire, or both will try to annex us. They already dislike the concept of a third power existing in the galaxy, and let's be real: Odessen isn't as secret as we wish it was. We should already be looking for a backup base; we might as well look for something that can be more permanent. I’m not just giving this up. Not again."

They hesitated, and glanced at Theron, something guilty in their eyes. Before they could apologise for making a choice without talking to him first, Theron pressed his temple against theirs. "Wherever we go, you can count on me to be there too."

[dreamingofscully]

MOVIE: “The X-Files: Fight the Future” - X-Files Rewatch

"Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder? To debunk your work, to rein you in, to shut you down." - Scully "But you saved me! As difficult and as frustrating as it's been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over! You've kept me honest ... you've made me a whole person. I owe you everything ... Scully, and you owe me nothing. I don't know if I wanna do this alone... I don't even know if I can ... and if I quit now, they win." - Mulder

Seeing XF in theatres. The black screen, and suddenly the theme music, the oil, the Title on screen. One of the best moments of my life.

How do we go from the devastation of "The End" to the happy, jokey Mulder and Scully at the beginning of the movie?

I have some ideas, which are currently in development.

"Mulder, it's me." First line. ❤️

Introducing the characters to a new audience: Scully as the rational one, Mulder "playing a hunch".

Joking with each other, incredible banter and UST. Such a wonderful team.

They are in a good place here.

Mulder hitting something when frustrated.

SCULLY IS BADASS LISTEN TO HER!!

Standing beside each other when they get into the snack room with the bomb,

Scully grabbing Mulder, yelling at him to leave.

He has a sense something's wrong. His self-sacrificing nature, doesn't care about his danger.

Scully in the meeting, Mulder's late. 😥

That they cover for each other. Blaming themselves for what happened and not wanting the other to take any responsibility. (Mulder would have been lying to protect Scully here. When the SAC ordered M&S to leave him, against regulations, Scully listened while Mulder pushed back.)

Outside the meeting

Scully's suit is so... Hnnng. I think it’s the same one she wears at the end of the movie. I’d wear it every day. Jesus.

Mulder with his sleeves rolled up, how long was he waiting?

Both of them are so damned beautiful this movie.

They're being split up. Not just to different departments but different STATES.

- Mulder moves a bit closer when she tells him this.

"And now if they were to transfer me to Omaha or Cleveland, or some field office, it just doesn't hold the interest for me that it once did. Not after what I've seen and done." - Scully

Not to mention being separated from Mulder.

Mulder realizes she's quitting, which he assumes means he's losing her.

Scully's in a place where she feels that she can't or won't get answers, and she can move on from the X-Files with relatively little fuss. In fact, the price that she feels both her and Mulder keep paying seems too steep for the bits and pieces that they get. Even if they get the truth, get answers, will they be able to hold those responsible to justice? Scully doesn't think so, not any more. So is it worth it? Only because Mulder is there, she needs to watch his back, and she loves working with him. But if he decided to leave, to do something else, she would be fine with it. He can't, because of his sister, ultimately. But all throughout season 5 (since Redux probably: “That would mean that for 4 years we've been nothing more than pawns in a game, that it was a lie from the beginning. Mulder, these men... You give them your faith and you're supposed to trust them with your life.”) and then season 6 we see Scully drifting away from wanting to work on the X-Files, wanting to leave and bring Mulder with her. She won't leave without Mulder, unless forced to by larger powers. She's leaving the bureau to STAY with Mulder, not to leave him. Mulder thinks there's some hope they can get the X-Files back, together, and that if she leaves the FBI he won't see her again.

"Maybe you should ask yourself if your heart's still in it, too." - Scully

Scully is asking him to move on WITH her. Mulder assumes she is just leaving and abandoning not only him but their work on the X-Files. The answers and the truth (and his sister) still mean a lot to him.

Scully knows how relentless Mulder is. She loves it but it's also frustrating. He can't give up and will still pursue his answers in whatever way he can. What is her choice? Stay in the bureau and get transferred away with some hope of returning and working with him or leaving the bureau and having some sort of friendship/relationship with him outside of their work.

Her soft "I'm sorry." when he goes to leave.

Knowing she's disappointing him, even if she thinks she doesn't matter.

Scully's sad face when she gives him his jacket. Her hesitance about leaving in the hallway.

Mulder drinking. [["I usually, I normally never, I don’t drink.." (Syzygy)]]

Feeling pretty sorry for himself.

"One is the loneliest number." - Mulder

Thinking about his impending split from Scully. 😥

"I heard you come in here now and again, figured you'd be needing a little drinkie tonight." - Kurtzweil to Mulder

When did he start going to the bar occasionally? During Scully's cancer perhaps, losing himself in his sorrow.

Going to Scully's after hearing what Kurtzweil said. Maybe the last chance he has to do something with her. 😥

She can't sleep. 😥

Their interaction at Scully's apartment.

"Are you drunk, Mulder?" - Scully "I ... I ... I was until about 20 minutes ago, yeah." - Mulder "Was that before or after you decided to come here?" - Scully "What exactly are you implying?" - Mulder

Scully thinking he's just drunk, that he came here to get her to change her mind, to do something neither of them has had the guts to do sober. But she doesn't want anything from an inebriated Mulder.

BUT! Don't worry Scully it's just a case. 😥

I think Scully's wearing the same coat as the one she wore in Christmas Carol.

She always knows to pack gloves around Mulder.

Standing close over the body.

Love Scully in the cold room & the phone ringing. Her panicked face. Mulder just left her there. 🙄

Hiding under the gurneys. 😆

Scully arriving in Dallas. Mulder wasn't sure if she'd come but his face says everything - so happy she changed her mind. He needs her.

Standing closely over the microscope. His FACE! He loves her. ❤️

Scully's face when she sees what's under the microscope.

I really love Well-Manicured Man. Seems more similar to Mulder's father, except having stayed more involved with the Consortium rather than quitting it completely. He wants to do the right thing, but found himself in a strange position of power and forced to do bad things. He's still terrible, of course, but much more nuanced than CSM.

"Mulder" saw one of the infected bodies. What about Scully? Why are we forgetting about how important she is here? Ugh.

"Then you must take away what he holds most valuable. That with which he can't live without." - Strughold

Cut to shot of Scully.

Everyone knows what they mean to each other, except each other. 🙄

I mean... I'm conflicted here. Love that we're acknowledging that Scully is something Mulder can't live without but at the same time she's not just important in terms of how Mulder feels about her. She's the reason that Mulder is as close as he is to the truth, that he's been able to do so much and be such a pain in the ass. If not for her, he'd probably be unwittingly working for the Consortium by now.

"Five years together, Scully. How many times I been wrong? Never. Not driving anyway." - Mulder

In the car - their teamwork, their compromise. Mulder drives straight instead of going right (Scully) or left (Mulder). And because of this, they find what they were looking for. A bit of a 'knock you on the head' metaphor, but oh well. They find their answers not because of Mulder and not because of Scully but because they work together to reach the truth. The danger comes from them both being a team, not from either of them separately.

The scene with Mulder bashfully admitting this is an extraterrestrial virus to Scully is so darn cute. I wish they'd kept Scully's swearing in the final movie, that would have been amazing.

Mulder keeps looking back at her, making sure she's with them, as they approach the white structures in the cornfield.

When the bees come, Mulder taking her hand/wrist, going back to help her. Putting his arm around her.

Scully's wild hair. ❤️ Mulder gazing.

Yelling at each other in the cornfield. PEAK X-FILES!!

MULDERRRRRRR! SCULLAYYYYYYYY!

Mulder's face when they find each other. His hand on her arm.

At the meeting, Scully looking disheveled as she arrives late.

HALLWAY SCENE.

Scully resigns because she doesn't want to go to Utah. The appeal of working for the bureau has waned after working for Mulder and seeing how things really are with the corrupt government.

What she wants is HERE, in D.C.

Mulder doesn't want her to quit because he thinks there is some hope they can get the X-Files back, knows he can't do it without her. And he thinks he's losing her if they don't work together. That the only way he can have her at his side is if they are partners. That he doesn't deserve her in any other way, or that she'd even want it.

Like she told Mulder earlier - her heart isn't in it if she's not with him.

"I need you on this, Scully." - Mulder "You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've just held you back." - Scully

Her thoughts from the past while:

“Folie à Deux”: not believing in him. In fact, refusing to do so and nearly getting him killed

From “The End”: Finding out about Diana: a previous partner who also had a romantic relationship with him, who was able to work with him and believe him

Also, their office, all their files and work destroyed: Not only does Mulder not have the proof Scully wanted to give him, but they lost the X-Files; Scully feels responsible. They were warned (by Diana no less) about pursuing this course of action, and Mulder chose Scully's way - and they were punished for it.

She thought she could make a difference in the FBI, but she feels like she hasn't (her comment from earlier in the hallway at the FBI)

So - she feels like she holds him back. She can't believe, feels like she can't be that person. She can never be the person he needs and wants. She caused their work to be destroyed, for him to lose everything important to him.

I love how she just shoves her face into his chest. 😍

Mulder never planned to tell her these things (they don't normally talk about their feelings), but he can't let her say that she doesn't matter. She is everything to him. 😍

Mulder's spontaneity.

For all of season 5, he's been holding himself back, despite knowing how he feels about her, because he's felt he doesn't deserve to be loved, especially by her.

His feelings come rushing out here

No "I love you" but everything that those words mean to him.

Scully's emotional state. Her chest heaving, tears welling in her eyes. His words to her mean everything. Acknowledging that she completes him, that she makes their work possible. That she is critical to his quest. That he doesn't want to do it without her, doesn't think he can.

Everything that she's wanted to hear from him, that she's wanted to BE to him - proven to her by his words for once. Actions may be stronger proof, but you can always deny their true meaning, misinterpret the gestures. But then he backs those words up with more actions...

Scully can't look at him whole he's talking, afraid of what her eyes will reveal. Holding him, kissing his forehead with affection. Familiarity. They've done this before to comfort and she loves to touch him.

UNTIL-- !!! She realizes what he's about to do, what his eyes are saying. Her world shifts -- HE LOVES HER?!

How did that damn bee know to pick this very moment. ARGH.

Mulder's concern when she pulls away sharply. Thinking that he crossed a line, that she doesn't want this. MORE GUILT.

Her reassurance turning to fear. Bees - can't be a coincidence.

Mulder's tenderness and fear when she collapses.

LGM ❤️

Instant rescue mode: WHERE'S SCULLY??

Mulder just throwing Byers' jacket in the street. LOL

WMM - knows exactly what to do to get Mulder into the car with him. Everyone knows except Mulder and Scully how they feel about each other... Well they sorta have an idea now.

"Save Agent Scully" - hmm, OK, you just killed Kurtzweil but I'm listening.

IN the end WMM gives Mulder the vaccine/coordinates not out of any altruistic motives, just out of a need to help his own family - disagrees with the rest of the consortium on their methods (that they are willing to work with the aliens despite new information that they are being used). Mulder is WMM's best chance to fight the aliens and the virus, but he knows Mulder needs Scully. Mulder would be USELESS and LOST without her.

When the car blows up Mulder's face, he’s shocked, realizing the truth in WMM’s words but still focused on his goal -- SCULLY.

Just think about how much pain he must be in. Doesn't matter. SCULLY.

Goes to ANTARCTICA to save her. Doesn't think twice. What a hero.

At the ship, seeing everything, what it could mean. Doesn't matter. SCULLY.

Seeing her clothes and necklace in the transport container. The first evidence that she's here.

Finding her! Desperately breaking her out of the container.

"I'm cold." 😥

His hand on her face.

Definitely sees her naked.

She's so pale. 😥

Lifting and carrying her when she can't continue.  

The mouth-to-mouth. Her joke when she comes back. ❤️ "Had you big time." And her smile.

When they get out Mulder keeps his hands on her.

He just wants her to SEE to BELIEVE him ❤️ He wants to share that with her.

SHE SAYS SHE SAW IT. Mulder's like "FINALLY!"

Their cuddle on the snow. Scully's face in his hair.

The ending scene.

Mulder on the bench, watching Scully approach. Looking fabulous! ❤️

Mulder and Scully's positions are reversed compared to the hallway scene.

Mulder doesn't want to watch her die - this she was leaving him when she was resigning.

Scully now has the determination to continue - that Mulder did what he did to save her, what she saw even if she can't explain it or admit it.

AND she knows how he feels about her. He loves her, she believes in that at least. She wants to give him reason to continue, knowing he won't do it without her.

"You were right to want to quit! You were right to want to leave me! You should get as far away from me as you can! I'm not going to watch you die, Scully, because of some hollow personal cause of mine. Go be a doctor. Go be a doctor while you still can." - Mulder

Mulder's guilt - telling her to leave him and be a doctor. That she went through hell because of HIM. (Not thinking about how he went through hell to get her BACK. Of COURSE he would, but it doesn't seem significant to him.)

That she was CURED. That there is a vaccine for this thing. Scully needs to pursue it and she needs to be with him to do so. As a scientist this would be incredible exciting. She has some physical proof, some tangible thing she can focus on, not just an endless search. That their work can potentially lead to something good, that can save lives.

Scully encourages him and he loves her for it.

She grabs his hand but then Mulder holds hers in his. ❤️ 

The actual ending. More forgetting about Scully. "He is but one man. One man alone cannot fight the future." Like, FUCK OFF. Shoulda left it with the previous scene. 😩